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MECHANICS

— AND-

FAITH.

— BY

CHARLES T PORTER.

Put ill type and a few copies printed in this form, for the purfmse of
submitting it to criticism in entrance of its publication.

NEW YOEK:
Evkning Post Jon Printing Office, cor. Broadway and Fulton Si.
(Law Telephone 541.)

18S5. 11 +

MECHANICS

AND-

FAITH

— BY-

CHARLES T. PORTER.

NEW YOEK:
Evening Post Job Printing Office, cor. Broadway and Fulton St.
(Law Telephone 541.)
1885.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1885, by Charles T. Porter, in the
Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.

ERRATA.

Page 19, line 29, for "beings" read " being."
" 68, " 29, " strike out " ! "
38, " " our " read " an."
27, " •' those " " " these."
3, " " these" " " three."
21, " •' the " " " to the."
38, " "matters'' read "matter."
First paragraph to be read as a foot Dote.
line 40, for •• develepement " read " development.'

72, 76,
83,
85,95,
IIS,179, 196,
203,
204,
219, 221,

28,
25,
81, 13,
29,

knew "
' determine "
' imitate "
' men's "
of"

' know."
' determines.'
emulate."
' man's.'.'
' or."

Tribune Building, No. 58.
New York City, 1885.

Dear Sib :
The following papers are of such a nature that it seems to be the
prudent course to submit them to criticism before publication. I have,
therefore, had them put in type, and a few copies printed in this form,
and the type distributed.
It is my intention, after having obtained the fullest criticism that I
I am able, to make a re-study of the whole subject.
I shall esteem it a great favor if you will read the papers, and note in
the margin, or on the right-hand page, faults and errors, large or small,
that you may detect, and points of criticism that may occur to you. The
course that I have pursued is the best assurance I can give that I desire
faithful and thorough criticism.
I am especially anxious lest I may have been an unintentional pur-
loiner of the thoughts of others. Please nail anything of this kind you
may discover, and if convenient give particular reference.
When your notes are completed, will you kindly return the book to
me at above address, by express.

PREFACE.

In presenting the following papers, a few words seem
to be called for by way of preface.
What is known to us as matter, in its various forms
and states, is commonly conceived of as being something
quite distinct from force. Here matter will be considered
to be force itself manifested in endless diversity of adapta
tion to our nature and wants.
The exposition of this view will not, however, be
reached until an advanced stage of the discussion. Until
then it will be necessary to conform the language em
ployed to the prevailing idea of a distinction between
matter and force. Otherwise the truths which are at
tempted to be presented in the earlier papers will not be
conveyed with clearness.
This conception of the identity of matter with force
must be regarded as fundamental in true philosophy.
In every department of thought there is to be ob
served a reluctance to recognize the fact that we are
surrounded by mysteries. While in reality all things pass
the limit of our understanding, there are not wanting
minds that refuse to confess even that anything does so.
Instructors generally feel called upon to explain every
thing. In order that they may seem to do this, they
assume imaginary starting points, which, having been
devised either by themselves or by their instructors, are of
course quite within their comprehension.
The great starting point is the material atom. The be
lief in the existence of the atom is the present bane of
philosophy. This belief gives to physical science its
materialistic tendency. It provides a limit at which
thought can be arrested. It opens the door to the revival
of the heathen conception of the atom, as self-existent and
possessed of inherent activities. Many minds at the pres
ent day seem inclined to rest upon this conception of the

material atom, as something that can be com|)rehended,
and beyond which they feel no impulse or inclination to
look.

Much vagueness of thought prevails respecting the
nature and functions of "the reason." Our view will be
made distinct, and it is believed also correct, if we con
ceive of that which is commonly termed the reason as
merely the judicial exercise of the mind, or as the con
scious spirit in its judicial activity.
With the exception of abstract truths we discover noth
ing by the process of reasoning. In reasoning we trace
relations, discriminate, generalize, conclude, and so deter
mine our beliefs. These judgments we are forming con
tinually, and we always must be forming them, on the
basis of what appear to us as facts in consciousness.
Here arises the liability to error. This liability to error
is of two kinds. In the first place, there is probably no
one who is not, in a greater or lesser degree, affected by
preconceptions or erroneous habits of thought, so as to be
liable to arrive at conclusions which are not warranted by
the facts observed. And, secondly, it is obvious that, in
order to form a correct conclusion by the judicial activity of
the mind, there must be presented in consciousness all the
facts, certainly ascertained, and nothing else. Otherwise,
the possession of even a perfectly judicial mind, or a mind
that is capable of giving to every fact that is seen in cons
ciousness its due weight, would be of no avail.

Force, Truth, Love and Beauty are the four spiritual
realities which, in their unity, interpenetrate all material
forms of being.
These spiritual realities are revealed directly to the
spirit of man, while the forms within which they are con
tained are made known to him through his physical organs
of perception.
For the sake of clearness, our perceptions may be con-

6
ceived of as being of two kinds, namely, those through
which we are made aware of the existence of what are
termed material forms of being, and those through which
we are made aware of the existence of the spiritual reali
ties which are manifested to us through these forms, or
of which these forms are to us the sensible expression.
If these spiritual realities in fact exist, then it is evident
that they must all be apprehended by us equally at least
with the physical forms which then appear only as the
media for their manifestation, or as the concrete mode of
their expression, adapted to our physical nature, if we
would avoid forming partial and superficial conclusions.

It is through the recognition of these truths that the
mind becomes able to perceive the harmony that exists
between reason and faith.
I have endeavored to reach these truths and to show
this harmony by the aid, primarily, of mechanical science,
and of the analogies that this science affords. As such an
effort, these papers are submitted to the judgment of
sincere men.

SUBJECTS.

PAGE
Introduction  8
The Unseen  12
The Criterion of Truth  21
Superstition  33
The Judicial Spirit  37
The Unity of the Mind  46
Mechanical Science and "the Keason "  51
Kevelation.  60
The Revelation of Objects of Sense  64
Cooperation  70
The Revelation of Mechanical Truth  75
The Revelation of Abstract Truth  82
Materialism  87
The Revelation of Poroe  101
The Unity of Physical and Spirituaii Truth  108
The Perception of Spiritual Realities by Recognition  123
The Revelation of God  128
The Verbal Revelation  140
Perfection  155
Natural Religion  159
Beauty  186
Suffering  199
Faith  ,  206
Prayer  ,  214

INTRODUCTION.

To most persons, perhaps to every one at first view, the
title of this book would seem to express the opposite ex
tremes of thought. It would appear to be a bringing
together of subjects which are quite incongruous, and be
tween which no relation can exist.
A little reflection, however, will show us that this view
cannot be the correct one, but must be only an effect of
our conventional habits of thought— habits that have been
formed by a false education.
There are no incongruities to be discovered in nature, but
everywhere harmonies instead. No unrelated things exist,
but all things are seen to be bound together by innumerable
relations. If, therefore, mechanics and faith are realities,
if one or the other of them be not a mere figment of the
brain, then it is certain that they cannot be incongruous
and unrelated, and it is possible that harmonies and rela
tions of the most perfect and intimate nature may exist be
tween them.
There is also another line of thought on which we are
impelled to the same a priori conclusion. This reasoning,
briefly stated, is as follows :
Faith is held by the christian to be the highest spiritual
attainment of man, and an attainment that is ultimately
to be reached by all men on the earth. This he believes to
be the purpose of God. Now, if this be so, then everything
must have a direct relation to this supreme result. It is
not supposable that anything can in reality exist to
antagonize this result. No incongruity can exist between
faith and any other reality whatever. On the contrary, it
must of necessity be assumed, that, in the universal scheme
of things, everything has been adapted to promote the
growth of faith in the soul of man. Whenever the real
nature and the legitimate influence of any part of this
scheme comes to be perceived, and just in the degree that

this nature and influence are perceived, we should expect
this supreme adaptation to appear, and to grow in distinct
ness and prominence.
In these papers the attempt will be made to show the ex
istence of this relation between mechanics and faith — a re
lation which, however we may have been taught to ignore
its existence, still is one which the foregoing considerations
make it evident that we ought to look for, and one which
we may find to be of the greatest consequence.
In a book of travel in England by an American scholar,
published a few years ago, a book of singular interest on
account of the charm of association with which every spot
is invested, a quotation is made from an address delivered
by Eobert Stephenson, on the completion of the central
towers of the Britannia Tubular Bridge, across the Menai
Straits, as follows :
"Mr. Stephenson said : ' Let them not, any more than
himself, and all who have been connected with this great
work forget that, whatever may have been or whatever
may be, the ability, science, intelligence and zeal brought
to bear on the creature's work, it is to the Creator that we
should give praise and thanksgiving ; for without his bless
ing on our works how can we expect them to prosper V He
fully believed that Providence had been pleased to smile on
the undertaking, and he hoped that they all with him
would endeavor to obtain those smiles."
Upon this our author remarks : " It is pleasant to see
so simple a faith in a mind devoted to so material a science
as mechanics."
This amiable comment, so far as it characterizes mechan
ical science, may, without doubt, be taken to represent
the manner in which this science has generally been re
garded, or it would be more correct to say has been disre
garded, by men who are ranked as thinkers. They whom
the world delights to honor with this name, however
widely they may differ on other points, would doubtless be
found to agree in regarding mechanics as a science alto
gether material, devotion to which is especially unfavor
able to the growth of faith.
And yet no view could be more erroneous. Our teachers,
from causes which we will not stop to seek for now, have

10
here overlooked what was especially entitled to their at
tention. They have committed the common mistake, and
one of which they would consider themselves above all
men to be incapable, of looking only at the outside of
things, .of permitting the thought to rest on that which
meets the senses. This error of arresting the thought is
one of degree, and in one degree or another it is more gen
eral than is commonly imagined. It lies at the bottom of
materialism, and hides God from the sight of men.
Mechanical science deals with matter, although, as we
shall see, not primarily; but it is not itself material. On
the contrary, it is spiritual in its nature and in all its in
fluences. And precisely on account of this singular
duality, because while spiritual in itself, it deals with
matter in all of its states and forms, mechanical science is
also singularly practical, and so is adapted to correct the
tendency to erroneous habits of thought and visionary
speculations, of what character soever these may be.
The adaptation of mechanical science to meet the fal
lacies of materialism is so admirable, that the complete
eradication of this noxious weed from the fields of philo
sophic thought may be regarded as its special office.
The effect of mechanical science on our physical well-
being, great and beneficent as this is, shall be surpassed
in intrinsic importance by its healthful influence on
thought, on belief, on morals, and generally on the
spiritual nature of man. Indeed, this influence has been
widely felt already, although hitherto various causes have
combined to prevent its distinct recognition.
This influence of mechanical science is far-reaching. It
is of a nature to aid directly in establishing in the mind
the solid foundation of faith. Its immediate tendency is
to dispel the idea of antagonism between reason and faith,
to show that antagonism exists only between reason and
credulity, and to vindicate the authority of faith over its
own vast region. It shows that faith is not only con
sistent with, but that it requires, the exercise of the
highest intelligence, that all true philosophy leads up to
faith, and that the larger and more complete the compre
hension of truth becomes, the more absolute faith must
become.

11
These statements, on their first presentation, will natu
rally be received with more or less incredulity by many
persons, whose studies and habits of thought have been on
lines far removed from those which they are now asked to
follow. In presenting them, the full burden of proof is
necessarily assumed.
In these papers I have attempted to maintain the fore
going propositions, and to show the practical application
of mechanical science to this higher use. I have en
deavored to show the intimate connection that exists be
tween those forms of truth which are known as spiritual
truth and those forms of truth which are embraced in the
term "Mechanical truth," or rather to show the essential
unity of these varied modes of expression of universal
truth. I am, however, deeply sensible of the contrast
between the greatness of the subject and the necessarily
limited character of my treatment of it.

12

THE UNSEEN.

Above all other employments of a secular character, the
study of mechanical science, using the term in its largest
meaning, operates to familiarize the mind with the reality
and the controlling nature of unseen things.
In this respect mechanical science occupies a peculiar
position. On the one hand, it differs from the other
physical sciences, in that these terminate in observations
on matter itself, and on the other hand, it differs from
pure mathematics, in that this contemplates abstract con
ditions only. When physical science is extended to the
consideration of the laws which govern the action of
matter, and when mathematics is considered in its ma
terial applications, then the two unite, and constitute the
various branches of mechanical science.
This science deals, primarily, not with matter, but with
force, with the unseen and the eternal; and in its study
and its practice it is with this first spiritual reality that
men are brought into habitual association.
Among the things which are earliest taught to the
student in any branch of mechanics is, to put down on
paper imaginary points and lines, which are called centres
and centre lines. These are not seen in any construction,
but they are the fundamental elements of every construc
tion. They are the points in which forces are properly
conceived to be gathered, and the lines along which forces
act — in which these are transmitted or resisted. Mechani
cal structures and movements are primarily represented by
diagrams consisting only of centres and centre lines, to
which, in the case of moving machines or bodies there
are added lines of motion, which represent the successive
positions of the centres or of the bodies to which motion is
imparted. These points and lines are objects of purely mental
perception. They have no material existence. But in the
mind of the designer of any machine or mechanical
structure they must always precede the idea of matter,

13
and determine the order of its distribution or arrange
ment. A familiar illustration of this requirement is afforded
in the eccentric crank, by which the valves of steam
engines are commonly actuated. No eye ever saw the
centre of an eccentric, nor the circular path in which this
centre moves. Both the centre and its path are hidden in
the solid interior of the shaft. But in every diagram of
movements derived from an eccentric, the centre and its
path are the essential things, the only things pertaining
to the eccentric itself which need to be represented.
Following upon these purely ideal points and lines, there
comes the study of mechanical laws, in obedience to which
force centres in these points, and is exerted or is trans
mitted along these lines.
These laws, as they are termed for the sake of brevity,
are merely the statements or expressions of the effects
which force is observed invariably to produce upon matter,
under given conditions. We have conferred upon us the
ability to ascertain these laws, and to determine their
existence as invariable modes of action. We are thus
enabled to conform our own purposes to them, and so to
make matter, in its various forms in which force resides,
minister to our ends.
The investigation of these laws, or of the observed effects
that are produced by the action of force upon matter,
under the endlessly varied conditions that are found to
exist, constitutes the sciences of statics and dynamics, or of
the laws of force at rest and of force in motion ; including
the subdivisions of these sciences which treat of the effects
of force at rest and in motion upon matter in its fluid and
gaseous states.*
The observation is an obvious one respecting these me
chanical laws, that they are universal. They stand calm
in eternal unchangeableness. Man is free to obey or disre
gard them at his will. At the same time perfect obedience
to every one, so far as it may be involved in his particular
work, is the condition of his success, and this condition he
cannot evade in any way nor in the least degree.
* The term " dynamics " is used here in its limited and more familiar sense.

li
Considering these uniformities in the effects of force as
laws, we may say, not only that we must obey them, but
also that God has imposed them equally upon himself. Pre
cisely as our work must be, so we find all His works to be,
made in conformity with the requirements of physical laws.
Whether we consider the sublime mechanism of the uni
verse, or the structure of the most minute organism, or the
operation of any natural agency, everwhere we behold the
perfect illustration of those principles of construction and
operation which must be illustrated also in all our works.
But the mind which has received a development in any
degree symmetrical, in which the spiritual senses have
been cultivated, or rather in which these have not been
obscured, cannot rest here upon the idea of law. Such a
mind sees clearly that to do this would be to remain satis
fied with a very superficial view of the subject. It can affix
no intelligible meaning to the term "natural law" or
"law of nature " until it arrives at the idea that what for
convenience we express by this phrase is, in reality, noth
ing less than the changeless will of God — the unvarying
mode in which he chooses that His will shall be done, and
the mode in which we also must act, unless, either ignor-
antly or designedly we resist His will, when our purposes
must fail and our efforts come to nought. Matter implic
itly obeys our wills, unless we require it to disobey the
Supreme will. To this will, therefore, in order that we
shall accomplish anything whatever by the use or employ
ment of matter, our wills must be completely conformed,
so far at least as the occasion calls for their exercise.
We repeat, that the mind, in its healthy development,
demands here something to rest upon more substantial
than mere verbal conventional expressions, and it cannot
stop until it has arrived at this sublime truth.
Now, here is a wonderful thing. Here is a sense in
which God lifts us up to Himself, in which we are admit
ted to share His thoughts, and to give effect to our free
wills, by harmonizing them with His will. In every suc
cessful mechanical work there is a unity of purpose be
tween us and our Maker.
In the production of all these we become His co-workers,

15
yea, the voluntary agents by whom He accomplishes His
purposes. When Kepler reflected on the laws of planetary motion
which he had discovered or demonstrated, he was over
come with awe, and has put on record his exclamation:
"Now, 0 God, think I Thy thoughts after Thee."
But certainly the same reflection is pertinent in the case
of every universal truth discovered by or, correctly speak
ing, revealed to man. That such a reflection is not always
made is only because we are not possessed of Kepler's rev
erent spirit.
Here, then, at the outset we find a close and vital con
nection existing between man and the infinite engineer
of the universe, and we discovered one respect or particu
lar in which, beyond any question, God has created man
in His own image.
We have, thus, in a very general manner, considered
two subjects, namely, centres and lines of force and mo
tion, and physical laws ; but we have not yet contem
plated any reality. We have only observed modes of action.
We are now to be brought face to face with the first real
ity, and we shall perceive it to be entirely spiritual.
Within all the forms of what we call matter, the first
reality which our spiritual sense perceives is force. In
some unknown way force acts upon matter, as the medium
of its manifestation. But what force is, how it acts upon
matter, or manifests itself through matter, what is the
nature of the connection between them, or what is the
essential nature of matter itself, all these are questions to
which we can give no answer. We only know that mat
ter, in the various states and forms in which we are
acquainted with it, behaves, under the action of force, in a
manner that is invariable under the same conditions.
Thus we are confronted with a mystery. The very
first reality, the existence of which we are compelled to
acknowledge, about which our minds cannot admit a
doubt, is something of a nature not capable of being per
ceived through our bodily organs of sense. We are made
aware of its existence only through a spiritual sense. We
may indulge in speculations concerning the nature of force,

16
but we can know nothing about it, beyond the fact of its
existence, thus revealed to us.
Upon this reality the attention of the engineer must con
tinually be fixed. He is always in its presence, but he
cannot behold it. It serves him faithfully, but when he
would question it it is dumb. To the engineer force is
at once the most familiar of all things, and the mystery of
mysteries. With this omnipresent energy, which eludes
his senses, and is seen only in its effects, he has to deal
continually. Matter has significance for him only as the
habitation of force. He is accustomed and required habit
ually to look within all material forms, and to consider
only the forces, in their action and counteraction, which
either abide in or are transmitted through these material
forms, in their states of rest or of motion.
A familiar illustration of the extent to which engineers
have become able to dispense with matter, and yet to
secure the forces which alone they require, is furnished in
the construction of modern railway bridges.
In these structures the requirement is, that the heaviest
trains, moving at the most rapid speeds, and thus transfer
ring their weight rapidly from one point of the structure
to another, shall cross spans which often need to be of
considerable length, and also that such trains coming from
opposite directions, and moving at these speeds, shall pass
each other upon these bridges, and that the stresses and
shocks thus produced shall be repeated incessantly, and
yet that the bridges shall remain entirely safe.
We glide over them, and they are so firm that the
change in the reverberation from that which is heard when
the train is moving over the solid ground is hardly
observable, but when we look at the structures, we see
that, as compared with bridges of former times, which
were intended to bear only insignificant weights in addi
tion to their own, they seem almost like spiders' webs.
In the construction of these bridges, every stress that
can come upon them is exactly known, and is met in the
most advantageous practicable direction, and with a resist
ance equal to several times its greatest possible intensity.
That material is employed in which the resisting force is
known to be contained in the highest degree, and this

17
material is so disposed that not a pound of it is wasted.
Each member of the structure has its special function, and
is designed and proportioned in such a naanner, that the
amount of resisting force residing in every part of it bears
a uniform ratio to the amount of stress that can come
upon such part.
The history of the growth of engineering skill, and of
the advance in our knowledge of the action of force, and
of the means and methods of employing and resisting it,
which have made such structures possible, is more wonderful
than the stories in the "Arabian Nights;" and this be
cause we have always to realize the amazing fact that this
history is true, and its truth constitutes the supreme
element of wonder, which in the tales of oriental imagina
tion is lacking.
The most comprehensive definition of force that men
have been able to frame, and one which seems inclusive
of all its observed effects, is a cause producing, or tending
to produce, motion. Although this appears to be the
utmost that we can know about it, still its effects have
been made the subject of grand generalizations.
It has been established that force is capable of a great
variety of manifestations. These appear as potential or
as dynamical energy, as light, as heat, as electricity and
magnetism, and as chemical and Vegetable and vital
activity. Force has been shown to be indestructible, and
to exist in a total degree or amount that is not capable of
variation. No existing force can ever cease to manifest
itself in some way. It passes freely from one form of
manifestation to another ; its disappearance in any one
form being attended by its appearance, in precisely equal
amounts, in other forms.
Force is the sole cause of physical phenomena. All rest
of matter, and all uniform motion, which is rest in its true
sense of undisturbed condition, result from the equilibrium
of counteracting forces ; while changes from a state of
rest to one of motion, or from one degree of motion to
another, result from disturbances of this equilibrium, and
tend towards its restoration.
The beginning of the cultivation of mechanics, in its

18
various branches, as the science of force, marked an era of
peculiar importance in the progress that mankind is
making in civilization. The recognition of force, as a
spiritual reality, manifested through the medium of
physical forms, which is made in this science, required a
certain degree of spiritual insight, and constituted the first
advance made by men from that primitive perceptive con
dition, in which thought was limited to these forms them
selves, as these are disclosed to us through our physical
organs of sense.
This recognition of force has been the first step towards
the scientific recognition of all spiritual realities, which
are manifested to us through the same physical medium,
and of the infinite Being in whom all these consist. And
because it was the first step in this advance towards the
perception of all spiritual realities in their unity, it was by
far the most important one, as upon it all succeeding
steps must follow. It was also the step which was most
slowly and gradually taken, and which it was necessary
should be dwelt upon for a considerable time, in order that
the mind might be prepared for those which are to follow
it, in the natural progress of thought. Thus by mechanical
science the door has been opened to the whole realm of the
unseen. At present, scientific thinkers generally are accustomed
to stop with the contemplation of force. In point of fact,
as will be shown, force is not to be genetically distinguished
from the other spiritual realities of truth, love and beauty,
which are equally manifested to us through the same uni
versal medium of the physical creation, and of whose ex
istence we are made aware through a similar mode of
revelation. But from the point of view to which men are
now by their education generally confined, force appears
to be the only spiritual reality that is manifested to us in
this way. It is the only one with which we are conceived
to be immediately and practically concerned, and so it is
to-day imagined to be scientific to limit the attention
altogether to force.
This marks the stage of mental or spiritual growth at
which mankind has arrived. In this stage, scientific
thought is quite occupied with this first unseen reality, to

19
the contemplation of which, in its grander features, men
are only beginning to be accustomed, and which must be
employed by us in all the activity of our lives. In reality,
our connection with force, and our dependence upon it,
are not any more close or more absolute than are our con
nection with, and our dependence upon, all spiritual reali
ties; but our relations to it have hitherto seemed more pal
pable than those relations do which require for their dis
cernment a still more spiritual vision.
Generalizing from the observed uniformity of the action
of force, men have formulated the expression, "law." In
returning to this subject, the object is to call attention more
pointedly to the disposition, now commonly to be observed,
not merely to rest upon this mere word, but to give to this
word in some sort an objective character, to regard it as if
it expressed some substantive reality; when in fact it ex
presses and can express nothing except the uniform mode
of action of a Being.
This disposition presents an instructive phenomenon.
Scientific minds are sometimes said to be destitute of im
agination, but it will be difficult to find a work of the hu
man imagination that is worthy to be ranked with this
creation. The worship of law is scientific idolatry; or the
adoration of an image, created by men themselves, to
satisfy an instinctive want.
We begin here to observe the relation that the physical
creation bears to the human race as its educator. Its
office as our teacher respecting all material, forms of be
ings, and also in the development of our senses, and of all
our physical and mental powers and activities, which are.
employed in the acquisition of the knowledge of these
forms of being, and in the utilization of them which we
have evidently been intended to make, all this is of course
obvious. But beyond this, we already perceive that it is from the
manifestations of it in the physical creation that we ob
tain all our knowledge of force, and receive the prodigious
increase in our spiritual development that this knowledge
brings to us. This may be termed "the ministry of
force." As we advance in this discussion, higher and

20
higher exhibitions will appear of the educational work
which the universe by which we are surrounded has been
adapted to perform. These educational influences we
shall find to be addressed to, and to employ and develop,
every mode of our spiritual activity.
An important lesson may here be noted. The argument
from analogy rests upon the unity between spiritual and
physical being, as proceeding from a common source.
Upon the assumption of the existence of this unity, and
upon the evident fact that spirit is a higher order of being
than matter, the physical creation affords strong pre
sumptive evidence of the immortality of the soul.
A remarkable identity is observed between matter and
force in this, that the former is, like the latter, indestruc
tible. While subject, like force, to endless changes of state
and form, no particle of matter can cease to exist. This is
established by universal and familiar proofs. Then, a
fortiori, the soul of man, though likewise changing its
state, cannot cease to exist.
While to uninstructed minds the constantly present
phenomena of decay and disappearance of matter sug
gest by association the idea that our conscious being may
cease in like manner; it is deeply interesting to observe
that, on the very first step towards a knowledge of physi
cal truth, this suggestion becomes dissipated, and the true
analogies of immortality appear in its place.
Thus from a consideration of the known harmonies of
the creation the conclusion is compelled, that the idea of
the cessation of our being in annihilation, that idea which
fills us with distress, from which we instinctively recoil, is,
like a mistaken mechanical conception, only a figment of
the brain, which represents no reality, a shade that vanishes
at the first dawn of light; and that the opposite idea of our
immortality, the idea to which we instinctively cling, which
fills the healthy soul with gladness, which is the balm for
all wounds, and in which is found the solution of all mys
teries that would otherwise darken our earthly being, is
true. It cannot be that spirit perishes, and matter and
force endure.

21

THE CRITERION OF TRUTH.
In the preceding paper, I have attempted to give a brief
exposition of the true nature of mechanical science. We
are next led to consider, in the same general manner, the
character of the influence which this science is adapted to
exert. It will be found, on making proper inquiry, that
mechanical science has been the most important auxiliary
to verbal revelation, in disclosing to mankind the real
criterion of truth.
In this work, two things are necessary. Not only must
the criterion of truth be shown to men, but in addition to
this the minds of men must be prepared to admit it.
Men must be educated to recognize, to accept and to
appeal to this criterion, as the sole and infallible test of
all truth whatever.
For the attainment of this result, much more, indeed,
is required than mere education, as this term is commonly
understood. A radical change needs to be effected in the
tendency and disposition of our nature. This change re
quires for its accomplishment a strong agency, operating
through a long period of time, and producing its effects in
an almost imperceptible manner. Mechanical science is
such an agency. This change on the character and di-
retion of thought is, in an eminent degree, the work of
the science of force.
The problem of the ages has been this: How is truth to
be distinguished from error ? What test shall be applied
to the notions that we form in our minds, in order to
determine whether or not there exist any realities to which
these notions correspond ? How is it to be determined
what we shall, and what we shall not believe.
With respect to all beliefs, to those of a physical and
those of a spiritual nature alike, the ancient heathen world,
if we except the geometry and mechanics that were known
to .them, and the influence of which we have reason to
believe was very limited, knew of no criterion except

90

human authority. The same is true of all heathen races,
ancient and modern. We limit our view, however, to the
most intellectual of all. In the teachings of the great
minds of the Grecian race, there is presented a curious
medley of half -inspired truths, mistaken conceptions and
frivolous absurdities, all of which were received by the
disciples of the philosopher with the same implicit belief,
on his authority alone. Ipse dixit was the only proposi
tion that needed to be proved.
Under the conditions of heathen society, this reliance
on human authority was a logical necessity. No inquiry
had been instituted respecting the source of truth.
Human thought had not ventured so far as this. The
human mind was the only source of beliefs. These were
wholly derived from human teaching. So it will be per
ceived that human authority afforded the only criterion of
their correctness. The mind must always be satisfied by
an appeal to the source of its belief. Beyond this there
can be no appeal.
Any departure from this established usage involved a
radical change in the mode and direction of thought.
Such a change must be effected by some means, as the es
sential pre-requisite to a true civilization.
This change is from that habit of thought in which the
mind is satisfied by an appeal to the source of its belief,
whatever, as the result of previous influences, that source
may happen to be, to that contrary habit of thought, in
which the mind seeks for and recognizes the single source
of truth, which then becomes the only source of its belief,
and to which, in all cases, its appeal is directly made. We
shall see that the source of truth, thus either consciously
or unconsciously recognized, can be nothing less than the
infinite Being.
This change in the habit of thought is still far from
being completely accomplished. It is resisted by subtle
and powerful influences. It advances so slowly that it
seems sometimes to retrograde. On the whole, its pro
gress has been so partial that, when one contemplates the
extent of that which is yet to be made, it seems to be only
just begun.
The various influences which oppose this transition from

23
the one to the other of these modes of thought all have
their root in a common weakness of our nature, which
manifests itself in two apparently opposite ways. These
manifestations are a disposition to assume and to submit
to human authority in matters of belief. These are essen
tially the same disposition, the direction of its exhibition
being determined by accidental conditions. Whichever of
these forms this disposition may take, it shows its identity
by appearing continually in both forms and in equal
degree in the same individual. The severity with which
submission is exacted from inferiors always corresponds
precisely with the servility with which it is rendered to
superiors. In whichever way this weakness may manifest itself in
any individual, or in any organization, whether in the dis
position to assume authority over belief, or in the disposi
tion to submit to such authority, in either case alike it
involves an inability to perceive that, since the human
mind cannot be the source of any truth, so it cannot be
the legitimate source of any belief.
When, however, this fundamental truth has been appre
hended, then it at once becomes evident that in matters of
belief all men stand on an equality, and have in this
respect no relations towards one another, but the relations
of each individual are immediately and directly with the
source of truth. It also becomes evident that in this
respect no distinction is to be drawn between physical and
spiritual truths. The relations of the individual to the
infinite source of all truth are just as direct and the
absence of all relations towards his fellow men is just as
complete in the case of spiritual truth as they obviously
are in the case of physical truth.
The clear perception of the immediate and exclusive
relation of each individual to the source of truth renders
it impossible for men either to assume or to submit to
authority in any matters of belief whatever, for it is then
obvious that all assumption by man of authority over
either the physical or the spiritual beliefs of his fellow
men is absurd, and the exercise of such authority is a
usurpation. This fundamental change in the mode and habit of

24
thought has been, and still is, and must continue to be
until such change shall be universally made, dependent
for its accomplishment very largely on the influence of
mechanical science.
The peculiar adaptation of this science to the task of
delivering the mind from bondage to human authority,
and of making the assumption of such authority ridicu
lous in the sight of all men, becomes manifest when we
consider the nature of its methods. These methods are
simply experiment and observation. In common with all
true science, mechanical science has this characteristic,'
that its conclusions are derived from and are brought!
directly to the tests of experiment and observation, and
are open to free criticism.
Eepeated experiment and observation constitute the
only mode in which the teachings of mechanical science!
can be either established or assailed. The names of emi
nent discoverers or inventors are held in peculiar honor,
it is true, but this is only because the truth and the value
of their discoveries and inventions have been confirmed
by every fresh investigation or application of them. For
this reason alone these have received the acceptance, and
the minds through which they have been l'evealed have
received the homage, of mankind.
All experiments in mechanical science have for their ob
ject to determine the action of force under given con
ditions, or, the behavior of some form of matter underf
the action of force. The essential nature of these acts of
experiment and observation seems hardly to have been
realized. It is of the first importance that their real char
acter should be clearly apprehended.
They are, in reality, nothing less than appeals made in
the only possible way, and in the way obviously appointed,
directly to the source of truth, to the Divine Being, who
through this method reveals to man the changeless modes
of his beneficent activity, and also the modes in which;
man may cooperate with this activity.* Through ways of
* Those who cannot see experiment and observation to be such appeals to the
Deity will, nevertheless, agree in regarding them as appeals made directly toM-i
ture herself. But this is an expression of which the only intelligible meaning H
the one given in the text.

25
human devising the ancient augurs pretended vainly to
inquire the will of imaginary divinities respecting parti
cular human affairs. Now, employing in all sincerity the
methods of divine provision, man seeks to learn the will
of God. in its uniform physical operation, and how he
may direct his own will in conformity with it. The
knowledge gained by these methods constitutes mechan
ical science. In the light of the present day, it is clearly
seen that the intrusion of human authority here would be
a profanation. But this has not been the case very long. This is a men
tal illumination, at which the civilized portion of the hu
man race has only arrived quite recently. Until mechan
ical science had its birth, only two or three centuries ago,
human authority continued to be the sole arbiter in all
matters of physical belief. No other criterion of physical
truth had been so much as imagined. From all antiquity
submission to human authority in matters of physical be
lief had been the unquestioned habit of the unlearned and
the learned alike.
The consequences of this error have been far reaching.
In contemplating them, we first observe the intimate na
ture of the connection that exists between physical and
spiritual truth, a connection more intimate than any mind
is probably able to conceive. In the darkness of the mid
dle ages, the same deep obscurity rested upon both.
While the real source of physical truth remained undis
closed, the growing tendency of human thought was to
hide also the real source of spiritual truth. While sub
mission to human authority was universal with respect to
physical belief, it was not possible that the contrary teach
ing of the Bible respecting spiritual belief could be com
prehended. Opposite habits of thought respecting these
two classes of truth could not coexist. In this fact, in
which once lay the despair, now lies the hope of the
world. The habit of servile acceptance of the dictates of recog
nized human authority inevitably extended from physical j
to spiritual beliefs. In this habit is found the funda- J
mental reason, why the teachings of the Christ came,
through century after century, to be more and more

26
buried under human traditions and requirements, why
the ultimate appeal came more and more to be made to
human authorities, on all questions both of faith and of
conduct, and why at last the Christian Church came to re
peat the phenomenon of Judaism in its last age, and to
present the almost complete extinguishment of Divine
truth in human defilement ; as human authority became
more outrageous in its exactions, and submission to it be
came more degraded in its servility.
Obtaining the position of general spiritual supremacy in
Western Europe, and maintaining this position for many
centuries, under these conditions of thought respecting
physical beliefs, and when the source of physical truth was
utterly unrecognized, it was unavoidable that the Church of
Rome should come to hide, also, the real source of spir
itual truth, and should limit appeal to human authority
also in all matters of spiritual belief. Thus this amazing
development of human authority over the consciences of
men followed as the necessary consequence of the uni
versal error of submission to human authority in respect
to physical belief.
It is true respecting most great movements that their
origin is obscure. Fundamental causes must be in opera
tion for a longtime before their effects begin to appear with
distinctness. Mechanical science is probably to be regarded
as' one fruit of the Reformation, yet Galileo owned alle
giance to the Church of Rome. The spiritual awakening
was abrupt, and brought conflict and desolation in its train.
and was followed by a strong and thus far a permanent
reaction. The mechanical awakening was insensible, but
has been steady and full of benefactions.
The vital question common to both was, whether human
or Divine authority should receive the submission of the
human mind. A century after Luther and Zwingli, the
issue was at last distinctly joined between the dictum of
Aristotle and the demonstration of Galileo, on the physi
cal question, whether the velocity of a falling body did or
did not vary according to the weight of the body. When
this issue had been decided, then also the enormous and
hoary structure of spiritual pretension was undermined,
and the work of emancipation from all forms of human

27
authority was really begun. Such is the unity that con
nects physical and spiritual truth.
This event marks the beginning of the great transition
in the mode and direction of thought, so far as relates im
mediately to physical belief. It was more than an event.
It was a prophecy. It foretold the time when thought
shall be free, when human authority shall be driven out
of the temple of spiritual truth as well as out of the temple
of phsical truth, when, universally and forever, for the
knowledge of all truth, whether in its physical or in its
spiritual forms, man, in his individual freedom, shall
appeal to God alone.
Even yet, however, such is the influence of conventional
modes of education, men are not ready to recognize the
unity of all truth, nor the common source of all well
founded belief.
On the one hand, science, confirming its view to incom
plete data, is unable, in what it terms matter, to see
the principal thing, to behold the revelation of God.
On the other hand, theologians fail to recognize the
equal sacredness of all truth, as truth, whatsoever its form
may be, and so they too are unable, in any proper sense, to
behold in all physical being the infinite and universal
presence. Both have apparently yet to learn, or at least to realize,
the great fact, that religion and philosophy are manifes
tations of the same truth, expressions of the nature of the
same Being, between whom and each individual the re
lation and connection are immediate and direct.
Meanwhile the insidious disposition to assert and to sub
mit to human authority is still seen, and its despotism is
felt, in a greater or lesser degree, in all human systems
of thought, and especially in religious systems. Its
presence in the latter reveals the admixture of the human
element, and pretty accurately indicates its proportion.
It may be well to dwell somewhat longer upon the
methods of scientific inquiry. The more familiar the mind
becomes with these methods, the better prepared it will
be to give proper consideration to the views which have
already been presented, and especially to those which are
to follow.

28
Before proceeding further, however, attention should be
drawn to the distinction which exists between the real
nature of all scientific methods, as this has been exhibited,
and the grand consequences that have followed from the
adoption of these methods, and that must still more largely
attend their employment in the future, on the one hand,
and, on the other hand, the frequently limited purposes,
and even the contrary disposition of individual inquirers.
These often fail to recognize, and even deny the existence
of the God to whom, in fact, they continually appeal.
This distinction is an obvious one, and cannot fail to be
observed by every candid reader.
All true science must be destitute of the reverential
spirit, in the sense in which this term is commonly used.
If a belief is venerable, that fact tends to raise the presump
tion that it is unfounded, since the beliefs of more ignorant
ages have generally been found to be so. The authority of
Scripture is inadmissible, and this with evident propriety;
for the subject of inquiry is some form of physical truth,
and, on any statement contained in the Scriptures that
conies fairly within the scope of physical inquiry, their
claim to be the Word of God is itself on trial. Be
fore this test of agreement with the facts in nature, every
religious system of human origin has gone down, and
must inevitably do so, since these systems are sure to
teach, as essential portions of their creeds, some things
that are proven by science to be false.
Science is not less destructive of human creations in her
ministers than in her methods. Here is no priesthood,-
nor ordination, nor privilege, but a pure democracy, where
the right of private judgment is exercised without re
straint, and admission to the mysteries is open to all on
the same conditions.
The observations and experiments by which knowledge
is advanced are repeated by independent inquiries, under
varied conditions and by all known methods, before the
results can be accepted as established facts. In this way,
from age to age, experimental science in all its branches
makes its slow but certain progress. The discoveries of
one generation become the familiar truths of the next are
taught to children, are turned to account in the arts and

29
industries, and so are continually adding to the occupa
tions, to the comforts and to the intelligence of mankind.
The discoveries and inventions, or properly speaking,
the revelations, which together constitute mechanical
science, may be grouped under four general heads. These
are:1st. The laws of force and of motion ;
2d. The operation of these laws, in their application to
matter in its various forms and states ;
3d. The forms and properties of matter itself ; and
4th. The conception of modes in which all these, in the in
finite variety of their combinations, are found to be
practically applied in nature, or in which they can be
practically applied by man.
The weight or pressure of the atmosphere, or the mutual
attraction of the earth and the atmosphere for each other,
and the amount or degree of this attraction, is a phenom
enon that belongs to the second of these groups. The dis
covery of this attraction was one of the earliest discoveries
in modern mechanical science. A brief account of it will
fitly illustrate the method in which the facts of this science
have been established ; or the form and mode of the appeal
that, in all experiments of a mechanical nature, whether
these are successful or unsuccessful, is made to the infinite
source of truth, and in which the revelation of all physical
truth is given, in answer to such appeal.
So far as we have any knowledge, the idea that the
atmosphere might have weight or exert a pressure never
occurred to the philosophers of antiquity. During the
earlier period of the revival of learning in Europe, the
question was occasionally discussed, and was always de
cided in the negative. No such pressure could be felt.
All experience and sensation seemed to be opposed to the
idea of its existence.
Men were everywhere using their rude devices for rais
ing water in pumps, without the least idea of what they
were doing. The action that was taking place before their
eyes never entered into their comprehension. If any one
had told them that, in raising a pump bucket, they were

30
lifting a portion of the weight of the atmosphere from the
water under the bucket, so that the excess of this press
ure, exerted on" the surface of the water in the well,
would force the column of water in the pump barrel up
after the bucket, there were centuries when such a teacher
would have been in danger of being burned up.
This, with all similar phenomena, was explained by the
dictum, that nature abhorred a vacuum. This nonsense
passed for science through many an age. It is interesting
to recall the long period, during which this was assumed
as an axiom that no one dared to question. But are there
not now conventional absurdities, from which we must
ourselves become free before we can be entitled to smile at
that one '( And are we not ourselves surrounded by truths,
which in reality are as palpable as that of the weight of
the atmosphere, but which our eyes have not yet been
opened to see ?
The raising of the question, whether the atmosphere
might have weight, was itself a notable event, as marking
the beginning of scientific inquiry. But an experiment
was tried, which was long regarded among the learned as
settling this question in the negative. This experiment
consisted in weighing a bladder, when distended with air,
and when empty. No difference in the weight could ever
be detected.
The power of observation, which was to be developed only
by the study of nature, did not then exist, that would en
able men to detect the fallacy in this experiment. This
fallacy lay in the unobserved fact, that the bladder was
filled with, and immersed in, the same fluid. Whether
full or approximately empty, it always displaced, in addi
tion to its own proper bulk, very nearly the same weight
of air that it contained. A similar experiment would just
as well prove water, or even mercury, to be without
weight. So this great fact was yet hidden from men.
Copernicus, Galileo died without the sight.
In endeavoring to raise water from a deep well in Flor
ence, it was found possible to lift it only about thirty-two
feet, wiiich led Galileo to observe, that nature, evidently,
did not abhor a vacuum above thirty-two feet. Dying,
Galileo commended the investigation of this subject to his

31
pupil and successor, Torricelli. The reflections of Torricelli
led him to the Conviction that the atmosphere must have
weight, and that it must be by its pressure that the water
was caused to rise in the pump barrel. In considering how
this question might be tested, he at last thought of mer
cury. This substance, being between thirteen and four
teen times heavier than water, would be caused by the
same pressure, if it existed, to rise only about thirty
inches. So he reasoned that, by the employment of mer
cury, the effect of this pressure might be observed in a
glass tube.
It is interesting to imagine the feelings of this philoso
pher, when preparing for this experiment, which was so
remarkable at once for its simplicity, its conclusiveness,
and its importance. It was almost as simple as that of
standing the egg on its end, yet no other finite mind had
conceived it. Was it writh trembling expectation, or in the
calmness of conscious strength, that he filled with mer
cury his glass tube, four feet in length, sealed at one end,
placed his finger over the open end, inverted the tube,
plunged the open end in a vessel half filled with mercury,
and then — removed his finger ?
What were the emotions with which he saw the column
of mercury fall, and after completing the oscillations pro
duced by its momentum, stand at a height of between
twenty-nine and thirty inches, in equilibrium with the
pressure of the atmosphere on the same area of surface of
the mercury in the vessel ; or with which he realized the
fact that the glass tube above the column of mercury
enclosed the absolute void, then first obtained by man,
since only approximations to it could be reached in the
pump barrel, and which was ever after to be known as the
Torricellian Vacuum % And what would his emotions have
been, if he could have imagined, what, indeed, no one can
adequately conceive, the influence that this discovery was
to exert, in promoting the industries and the civilization
of his race ?*
* Belief in nature's horror of a vacuum diod hard, however. The account of
the repetition of Torricelli's experiment by Pascal,and his correspondence on this
subject with Jesuit Fathers, in the 4th volume of his works, Paris ed., 1819, is de
lightful reading.

32
The discovery of the pressure of the atmosphere was
one of those discoveries by which the boundaries of our
knowledge have been enlarged in an unusual degree. It
was a radical discovery, and out of it there have sprung
an endless series of discoveries and inventions, which,
while they have contributed in an incalculable measure to
the material welfare of man, have, at the same time, ad
ded still further to the extent of his knowledge and to the
power of his understanding.
We here close the present consideration of the subject
of the criterion of truth. In subsequent papers it will be
resumed, and considered from other points of view. In
those connections we will trace more particularly the reve
lation of mechanical constructions.

33

SUPERSTITION.

Mechanical science is the angel whose spear has van
quished the demon of superstition. The source of this
power in mechanical science is no secret. It is the science
which penetrates to the causes of phenomena. Force, in
the various forms of its manifestation, is, as has been ob
served already, the cause of all phenomena whatever.
But force is unseen. It is hidden from the apprehension
of rude and ignorant races. To them nature is full of
mysteries. Their minds are without guidance in their
imaginative or form-constructing activity. Every phan
tom becomes to them a reality. They people the earth and
air with spiritual representations of their own dispositions,
and tremble before their conceptions of natures like their
own invested with unlimited power. Their minds become
the abodes of superstition and credulity.
The dawn of light on this darkness is the development
of the knowledge of force, in its unvarying and beneficent
activity. This is not the full light ; it is only the dawn.
Mechanical science is a science that diffuses itself, and
exerts a wholesome influence throughout the masses of
every civilized society, even where the very term " sci-
cence" is unknown. It is the foundation of what is called
"common sense," which is an orderly habit of thought
and a disposition to look for natural and reasonable causes
for phenomena.
Confining our attention to the most enlightened na
tions of the world, we observe that, before the general
cultivation of mechanical science, unlimited credulity made
men everywhere the victims of ghostly authority. We
see superstitions and delusions controlling the most culti- .
vated minds, and, springing out of these, we see irrational
and erratic habits of thought prevailing, with little check
or guide.
Although there is still an abundance of all this to be
seen, showing at once the incompleteness and the need of
the work of mechanical science, still the influence already
exerted by this science, and the results accomplished by it,

34
in substituting, in place of these vagaries, reasonable and
correct methods of inquiry, and habits of thought based
upon and guided by fixed principles and laws, have
already been greater and more important than can be
adequately conceived. Illustrations like the following in
dicate both the extent and the fundamental nature of this
influence. Institutions of learning do not now esteem relics as
their most precious possessions. Men of science do not
now make a business of calculating nativities. Courts of
justice do not now gravely engage in the trial of witches.
But when mechanical science had its birth, in the age of
Galileo and his successors, they did all these things.
These and like absurdities, which only about two centuries
ago were regarded as so serious, mankind has outgrown
wherever mechanical science has been cultivated, and
largely through its influence.
The word ' ' superstition '' is properly employed to ex
press any unfounded belief, and the disposition that ac
cepts such beliefs with readiness is properly called super
stitious. The practical way in which mechanical science
goes about the work of destroying this monster, where-
ever it finds it, is readily exhibited.
Whatever be the particular direction that thought may
take, human nature always manifests itself in essentially
the same way. So it is the case in mechanics, as well as
in other branches of science, and in speculative philo
sophy, that vagaries, more or less visionary, are appearing
continually. In all these departments of thought alike,
it is constantly occurring that absurdities are being urged
upon the attention of men. This is a general manifesta
tion of the perverse tendency of thinkers, so-called, to be
captivated by the work of their own imagination, and to
proclaim this as the truth.
But there is a wide difference in the credence that these
mechanical and philosophical speculations command. Me
chanical science possesses the important advantage of
being able to bring all conceits that appear in her realm
sharply to the test of experiment. " How will it work ?"
is the pitiless question, and but little interest can be

35
aroused in any supposed invention until this question has
been satisfactorily answered.
One occasionally hears of a person who is cherishing a
pet mechanical conceit. It is opposed to mechanical prin
ciples ; but he is quite innocent of these, and, as they
antagonize his supposed invention, he cannot admit them
into his mind. He is sure of the soundness of his plan.
It takes complete possession of him. Some one is induced,
or more probably a number of persons together, to con
struct a machine which shall at the same time demonstrate
the invention, and show the inventor to the world.
A trial is made, and lo ! as was the case a few years ago
with a propelling apparatus that was constructed on what
was represented to be a new principle, and which, when
it came to be tried, was found to produce no effect in
moving the boat in any direction, the whole thing vanishes
into thin air. And the reflection of the thoughtful observer
is : " What a pity that the same disposition cannot be as
quickly and effectually made of the vain speculations
which, under the name of philosophy, are continually
wearying the ear." Here, for want of checks that can
be promptly applied, we see advocates of all sorts of
theories doing serious harm by confident assertions and
plausible reasonings, which one experiment, if only it
could be fairly tried, would dissipate forever.
Mechanical science operates powerfully, however, to
reach absurdities of the latter character also, by its indi
rect influence and the general habit of thought that it
developes. It thus becomes, in the largest sense, an im
portant educator, and one whose influence is felt through
out the masses of society.
Men who, in any department of mechanics with which
they are acquainted, observe continually the natural adap
tation of means to ends, become accustomed to the uni
form operation of unvarying laws, and see idle conceits,
formed in contravention of these laws, continually exposed
and thrown aside. In this way they insensibly acquire a
stability of character and correct habits of thought, and are
not likely to be led away by delusions of any sort.
They observe that in mechanics there exist fundamental
principles which must be regarded, and they naturally

36
look everywhere else also for general requirements of a
corresponding nature. They become accustomed to rea
soning with some degree of precision, and vague generali
ties have little or no effect upon their minds. They con
sider, correctly enough, that absurdities are quite as likely
to arise in other departments of thought as they are in
mechanics ; and they come to be on their guard against
specious novelties, in whatever form these may be pre
sented. In a later paper the opportunity will be found for giving
to this line of thought a more particular direction. We
may properly observe here, that, at the present day, when
free thought is coming to be more and more general, and
the minds of the masses of men ai*e awakening to an in
creased activity, it is certainly a gratifying feature of the
case, calling for sincere congratulation, that there exists a
conservative influence so strong, and at the same time so
all-pervading, as mechanical science has shown itself
to be.
It is difficult to draw a line between the destructive and
the constructive forces of mechanical science ; just as it is
difficult to distinguish between the effects of light, in dis
sipating the phantoms and chimeras that filled the dark
ness, and in revealing the world around us in its reality. •
So also the direct and the indirect influences which are
exerted by this science blend insensibly with one another.
It must be sufficient, therefore, merely to call attention to
those distinctions, without attempting to observe them
strictly in our argument. These being borne in mind, all
the beneficent influences of mechanical science may prop
erly be considered together.

37

THE JUDICIAL SPIRIT.

In a former paper I have endeavored to show the in
fluence of mechanical science, in combating one weakness
that is common to men, namely, the disposition to assume
and to submit to authority in matters of belief.
We have now to observe an influence of an equally
healthful character, that is exerted by this science with
equal force in resisting another weakness more subtle,
and if possible more dangerous, than that.
As in that case, so in this also, the work of mechanical
science will be found to be, not negative merely, but
affirmative as well. In both alike, it tears down only
that it may build up. There we found this science to
establish individual freedom of thought, and direct access
to the infinite source of truth. Here it will be found de
veloping that spirit or disposition by which only it is pos
sible for truth to be apprehended.
Many minds are found, even among men of intellectual
power and influence, which are accustomed, in a greater
or lesser degree, to look within themselves for the criterion
of truth. Such persons seem irresistibly inclined to be
lieve that because anything appears to them to be true,
therefore it is true. They would hesitate to declare this
in so many words. Indeed, they would most likely be
offended, if their real mental operations were exposed,
even to themselves. But in reality they can never bring
themselves to see that, although a certain idea may appear
to them to by true, that fact in itself does not afford the
least reason for concluding that it is true; that truth must
be established by evidence existing wholly outside of their
own minds; that, in balancing the reasons for and against
any belief, the belief itself, even though it be held by
themselves, ought to weigh nothing.
This weakness is exhibited by different minds in various
degrees. Indeed, it is doubtful if there lives a man who
is entirely free from it, who in examining a question
about which he already holds a belief, can in all cases,

3S
bring to the consideration of that question a perfectly
judicial spirit, can distinguish absolutely between the
proper evidence and his own prepossessions, and can form
an unbiassed judgment. Many men, it is true, are found
capable of forming singularly impersonal judgments on
many questions, but we shall catch them somewhere. On
some side of their minds prejudice is sure to appear. The
necessity for ignoring all prepossessions if the truth is to
be seen, if the idea formed in the mind is to conform to the
reality, is obvious; but who is there that can always do
this? There are cases in which this weakness appears in its
extremest form ; in which it is obvious that, habitually,
the necessity is not perceived for bestowing much atten
tion upon external evidence, and still less for giving
weight to the views of 'others; but the mind is satisfied
with the short train of reasoning already stated; the in
dividual being probably unconscious of his weakness,
may, willingly blind to it.
It is interesting to consider what must be the major
premise of the syllogism, from which a conclusion of this
nature can be drawn. This is, that, so far at least as
relates to the question at issue, my knowledge is infinite,
all things in reality are just as they appear to me to be.
It is only on this general assumption, that any one can
say or can feel: "this appears to me to be true, therefore I
am satisfied that it is true."
The fact of this common weakness of our nature ex
plains why so little progress towards the establishment of
truth is usually made by discussions, and why the curious
result is almost always observed to follow from these, that
each side is more firmly fixed in its own belief than it
was before.
This infirmity is one of the principal causes of sectarian
ism in religion. The division of the Protestant Christian
world into sects presents a most interesting phenomenon.
A survey of the multitude of religious sects that have ap
peared since the Reformation shows that, at the bottom,
modern sectarianism has been a natural extreme reaction
from the bondage to spiritual authority, and to enforced
uniformity of belief, which had been the condition of the

39
same races for many centuries. At the same time, the
tendencies to superadd human inventions upon divine
truth, to express that truth in formulas which reflect the
limited and perverted conceptions of it that are formed by
men, and to exercise and submit to spiritual despotism,
have shown their universal characters, by appearing also
in degrees more or less marked in every Protestant or
ganization. The sectarian feeling is that disposition which seeks after
distinctive peculiarities of belief, and which cherishes these
points of difference with especial zeal. Sometimes this
feeling finds its excuse in attributing undue importance to
particular truths. Sometimes it is seen in attachment to a
cherished notion, which, in reality, is immaterial, or even
unwarranted. Most Christian sects show the enduring im
press of' some commanding but necessarily imperfect
mind, which for its adherents in some degree takes the
place of and hides the Christ. There are cases in which
the distinctive peculiarity of the sect, about which its mem
bers are strenuous above all other things, is something
very whimsical.
Sectarian feelings are the opposite of Christian feelings.
Sectarianism is directly at variance with the unity which
the Christ so earnestly prayed might exist among his dis
ciples. The observations which are suggested by sectarian
ism are therefore not observations upon Christianity, but
upon its opposite.
When once a religious sect has been formed, multiplied
and sometimes extensive associations and interests become
involved in the maintenance of its separate existence.
These interests and associations are, of course, quite dis
tinct from any logical reason for the separate existence of
such a sect. Nevertheless, they sometimes become the
principal motives for its continuance.
These interests and associations impel to strenuous, and
in some cases to extreme, defences of the distinctive tenets
of the sect, although these tenets may have been formu
lated under conditions of thought which are now obviously
imperfect, and which, in developing to a rounder and
fuller spiritual life, Christians have outgrown, or are out
growing.

40
Upon a comprehensive view of this subject it becomes
apparent that sectarianism belongs to the period of spirit
ual childhood. It presents every characteristic of this
age. In this earlier period of human development, out
of the conditions of which it sprang, and to which it has
been, and still is, although in a continually diminishing
degree, adapted, sectarianism has had its essential mis
sion to fulfil.
It exists, however, only as a step to something higher.
Antagonism, which is of the earth, earthly, must pass into
concord, which is from heaven. The human must give
place to the divine. Mature spiritual life rises far above
many trifles which have appeared of such solemn import
ance. The tendency to sectarian division has passed its cul
minating point. The current of Christian feeling is now
clearly in the opposite direction. The antagonisms of a
former age are something that christians at the present
day can only with difficulty form an idea of. The period
of Christian unity is evidently approaching. All the novel
influences by which men are now surrounded, and of
which they are only partly conscious, are insensibly oper
ating to bring the minds of individuals, in the exercise of
their free activity, into a state of charity and harmony,
with regard to spiritual truth.
Among the influences which are tending to liberate the
mind from bondage to all the inventions of men those
that are exerted by mechanical science must be accorded
a prominent place. _ That which may be termed the ex
ternal influence of this science, or that influence which it
exerts in breaking down the barriers that have separated
and isolated from each other the various races of man
kind, with the immediate effect of destroying prejudices,
enlarging the range of thought, multiplying human rela
tions, and broadening human sympathies, all this work
of mechanical science is, of course, obvious.
But deeper than this is its influence upon thought. Not
only has it contributed to make thought free, but its
influence is exerted even more strongly to give to free
thought its proper direction. Anticipating in some degree
the conclusions of a subsequent paper, we may observe

41
here that mechanical science gives precision and definite-
ness to the use of language, substitutes ideas of uniform
ity in place of those of caprice, and destroys the delusion
that truth is to be arrived at by speculative methods.
There are no sects in mechanics. No warring schools
contend here, as in medicine. No conflicting views are
put forth and battled for in mechanics. And why ? Be
cause mechanical science appeals at once to the infallible
criterion of truth. "Thus saith the Lord" is the only
declaration to which it yields its assent. For the most part
unconsciously, but none the less really on that account, and
none the less trustingly, the engineer listens for the voice of
God. Whenever this voice is clearly heard it is recognized
writh gladness, and thus we have mechanical science.
The power of mechanical science in correcting false
methods of thought lies partly in the fact that all its
conclusions must be based on evidence which exists
wholly outside the individual. It appears, indeed, to
the superficial observer as if the very weaknesses
the nature of which has just been exposed were
especially liable to appear in mechanics. This, however,
is because in mechanics absurdities are always detected,
and are shown in their true light. In other departments
of thought these often pass for wisdom.
Before the tests of truth that mechanical science em
ploys, all preconceptions and prejudices, all influences of
association or of education or habits of thought, all mere
words, which, however established by usage, or imposed
by dogmatic authority, in reality mean nothing, all pride
of opinion or of place, all conceit as to anything that for
any reason may strike the mind favorably, all these things
that so darken the understanding, and render it incapable
of apprehending truth, or of giving to different truths their
proper relative importance, are at once and forever swept
away. The individual may, and often does, cling to mechanical
delusions, in which case he also disappears. The practical
application of an idea in a working machine frequently de
stroys in an hour the cherished fancies of years. From
this crucial test no inventor can escape. It searches, not
only his work, but also himself. It reveals at once his

42
genius, his knowledge and his disposition. The latter is
generally the real thing, or at least it indicates the posses
sion or the want of the real thing.
No one who conceives of himself as already knowing
anything that he has not profoundly and experimentally
studied, no one who brings to his work the disposition that
has been described in this paper, can ever either produce
anything or learn anything in mechanics. He exemplifies
the proverb : "Though thou shouldst bray a fool in a mor
tar, among wheat with a pestle, yet will not his foolishness
depart from him."
A good illustration of this disposition recently came un
der my observation. A legal gentlemen of an unusually
acute and discriminating mind, but who, of course, had
been trained to see the truth only in his side of a contro
versy, conceived himself to be an inventor, and, of all the
foolishness in the world, he hit upon that of making rail
way cars to run upon skates instead of on wheels. He
actually obtained a patent for this invention, and then pro
ceeded to urge it upon the attention of engineers.
The case was an interesting one from a psychological
point of view. Argument was wasted on him. He was
asked, " How will your skates slide on the greased rails,
when, as will happen directly, they become covered with
dust adhering to them ?" ' ' That, gentlemen," he replied
with an air of triumph, as if he were destroying the effect
of the question on the mind of a court, " is something for
you to provide against."
The conversation then took this form : He was asked,
" Did you ever hear of the mechanical device, termed the
wheel and axle ?"
"0, most certainly, gentlemen ; you cannot teach me
anything about that."
" You know, then, that one of its offices is to reduce the
loss from friction ; that it accomplishes this object by
diminishing, very greatly, the amount of sliding motion of
one surface upon another, transforming that which is so
got rid of into rolling motion ; and that the small surfaces
that still slide on each other are certainly lubricated, and
protected from dust."
"Gentlemen," he replied with energy, " I have absolute

43
confidence in the value of my invention. All that I re
quire is capital to enable me to demonstrate it."
" You will need for that purpose," his interlocutors an
swered, " about twenty- five dollars. With this sum you
will make a little model, on which the difference can be
shown at once between the power required to move, say,
five pounds, along a line of rails when set on skates, and
when carried on wheels."
The suggestion was resented, as trifling with his inven
tion. This example illustrates the character of mind that truth
cannot enter, a mind that is completely occupied already
with its own prepossessions. Yet such a mind is not
wholly self deceived. While loudly proclaiming the cer
tainty of its belief, it is careful to avoid a fair test of it.
Minds of this character prefer, generally, some department
of thought, in which their dogmas cannot be brought to
the test of an observation. This is the disposition that
controversy developes, and perpetuates itself by developing
it. It is the disposition which is in all respects the op
posite of that which mechanical science demands, and
which all the influences of this science combine to pro
duce. Let us now, by way of contrast, suppose a disposition
of the latter kind, and approximations to which are by no
means rare, in the case of a real inventor, who is possessed
of that choice gift, a judicial spirit; a spirit humble,
teachable and honest, both with itself and others. Such
a man conceives of something newT, and which appears to
him to be practicable. In reflecting on his idea, he finds
after a while that he has reached a point, from which he
can make no further progress by thinking. His invention
has been matured in his mind, so far as he can go.
He now proceeds to construct his machine, or apparatus,
or whatever the device may be, according to the light he
has. Then he puts it into operation, sits down before it
like a little child, opens his mind wide to receive instruc
tion, and lets the invention itself teach him, by its practi-|
cal working.
His spirit being entirely receptive, he is sure to receivej
the revelation. This revelation may be, it often is, that

44
his scheme is radically defective, that his idea was a delu
sion, that there is nothing in it.
He recognizes the infallible character of the criterion
to which he has appealed, and perceives the demonstration
of the unwelcome truth in its full force. It costs him a
pang and a tear, but, as he sees his dreams melt away, he
feels that he has learned something, that he has been to
the fountain of knowledge and has received instruction,
and that he is capable of better things than he was capable
of before.
Instead of total condemnation, the disclosure may be,
that something he never thought of, just in the last place
he would have expected, is wrong or is wanting. Some
times defects will appear that puzzle him, and the nature
of which can only be discovered by long study. Perhaps,
again, the revelation may be, if the scheme is a radically
new one it is pretty sure to be, that extensive changes of
a radical nature must be made, before the invention can
be fairly judged of. All real inventions are slowly reached
through just such discouraging revelations.
A fact here confronts us, that is well suited to command
our attention. In every attempt made by man to produce
anything of a novel character, something is sure to be
wrong. No finite intelligence ever, on the first attempt,
produced or conceived of, even the simplest thing, in the
form that was finally found to be correct and satisfactory.
This is a fact of human experience. One who imagines
that he would form an exception to this law, would be the
last of all to approximate to initial excellence.
An individual may, from a knowledge of general princi
ples, and from familiarity with like attempts, be able to
say, in any particular case, what will not answer; to de
tect, perhaps at a glance, defects that are hidden from
others; but whenever he attempts to produce anything
new, even in the field with which he is most familiar,
something will certainly escape him, until it is revealed in
practical operation. The variety of possible conditions and
combinations is so great, and the range of our thought is
so closely limited to our previous experience, that suc
cessful inventors always come to be astonished at the
crudity of their first attempts.

45
It should be observed, that the word "new" is rarely
employed in an absolute sense. In the comparative use of
this word, there are endless degrees of novelty. Generally,
in mechanics the word "new" is employed to mean merely
new arrangements, or the application to new uses, of de
vices which are familiar. In some of the more simple of
these novel combinations of familiar devices, it occasionally
happens that a person of experience in their use, by care
ful study, succeeds in his first attempt. But, on the other
hand, for any finite mind to enter upon that which is new
in mechanics, in anything like the absolute sense of that
term, is like entering an unknown sea, whose extent and
every indentation of whose shores must be learned by ob
servation. The fact is an obvious one to every candid mind, and is
one which all experience impresses more deeply, that only
an infinite intelligence can comprehend beforehand, and
can embrace in its view, all the conditions and requirements
that will manifest themselves in the operation of a new
device. Man must grope his way through darkness into
the light.
The following general conclusions seem to be warranted,
as the clear teaching of mechanical science respecting
physical truth :
First. — Although the mind may be wholly unconscious
with whom it has communed, this truth is to be found by
it only through a direct appeal to the infinite source of
truth; and
Second. — Only the teachable spirit, completely emptied
of self, can recognize the existence of the source of truth,
or can receive the revelation of truth which is always ready
to be imparted.
These conclusions are here limited to physical truth. As
we advance in this discussion their universal nature will
appear, even before we come to observe the unity of phy
sical and spiritual truth.

46

THE UNITY OF THE MIND.

In reflecting on the general subject of these papers, I
have found myself embarrassed by the term "faculty,"
and the meaning that is affixed to this term; comprehend
ing, as it is made to do, certain functions and activities of
the mind, to the exclusion of others.
Thus, according to tho accepted systems of philosophy,
we possess the faculty of the reason, the perceptive facul
ties, the faculty of the will, the faculties of memory and
imagination, the aesthetic faculty, and the faculty by which
we distinguish right from wrong. To these some theolo
gians have added the faith faculty.
On the other hand, in all existing systems, the emo
tional nature is represented as being without faculties.
Nothing is admitted to be a faculty, that does not come
within the category of what are termed the intellecual
powers. We can, therefore, have no faculties with which
we rejoice or grieve, or love or hate. We do all these
things, but we do them without the employment of any
faculties. After a while I began to inquire what the word " facul
ty " really means. It is a word in universal use, a com
ponent of accepted formulas of speech ; and, until one has
broken through the thick ice of conventionalism, it cer
tainly appears as if this word "faculty" must represent
some kind of a reality. It pretends to convey an idea of
something definite and substantial. But the least scruti
ny exhibits the fact that all these " faculties " are noth
ing but figments of the brain.
In our philosophies the mind has been divided and subdi
vided, and these divisions have been classified and ar
ranged into systems; and such methods or analyses are
taught by teachers who have themselves been taught
them, just as if these divisions of the mind, instead of be
ing wholly imaginary, were as real and substantial as are
the physical divisions of the earth.
The result of the examination that I have been able to

47
give to this subject is the conviction that the mind or
spirit is a unit, and that in all its operations it acts as one
whole indivisible being; that therefore the divisions de
scribed by philosophers have no existence, and all these
substantive terms are only conventional expressions, that
represent no realities.
The spirit is a unit. What have been termed faculties,
as well as the operations of what is distinguished as the
emotional nature, are only the different modes of our spir
itual activity; into each form of which activity, as this
form is determined by the occasion, the spirit directs its
whole power.
The spirit is a unit. It is the same conscious self that
both thinks and feels, that performs every mental opera
tion and is sensitive to every moral impulse.
It is the one self-conscious indivisible being, that suc
cessively observes and remembers, that reflects upon the
images that it has formed in consciousness by observing,
and which it retains or recalls there by remembering, that
judges, that decides, that resolves, that impels to speech
or bodily activity, that constructs imaginary forms, that
grieves or rejoices, that loves or hates, that is true or de
ceitful. It is the one conscious intellectual, moral and emotional
unit, in its completeness, that exercises itself as such unit,
in each and all of these different ways, as the occasion
calls for such exercise, and in each one according to its
development in power and in disposition.
As the sun light, though manifold in its composition, is
a unit, and as all life which it calls into being would be
different in some respect, if the constitution of the sun
light were in any particular different, so every act that we
perform, every thought to which we give shape and every
emotion that we feel would be in some respect a different
act or thought or emotion, if our whole combined intellec
tual, moral and emotional nature were in any particular
different from what it is. Every act and thought and feel
ing is the act or thought or feeling of our spiritual being
as a whole.
No intelligible meaning can be affixed to the term "fac
ulty," except "a mode of exercise," "a form of spiritual

48
activity. " In the ordinary substantive sense of this term,
if indeed any one can define this sense, there are no such
things as faculties.
The incorrectness of saying that we possess faculties is
abundantly exposed by the fact, that when we are once
accustomed to admit this form of expression, we do not
perceive the absurdity of proceeding further, and saying
that we possess minds, or even that we possess souls. The
fact is, we are minds, and what have been termed the fac
ulties of our minds are in reality only some of the various
forms or modes of our spiritual activity.
It is a curious and instructive study to trace the origin
of this arbitrary division of the mind into these imaginary
distinct and unrelated faculties. These divisions were ob
viously the product of a rude process of thought similar to
that which evolved the system of polytheism.
In eaiiier ages men observed the various divisions of
natural objects, but had no conception of the unity in
which these divisions are combined. They created, there
fore, in their imaginations a separate divinity over each
one of them. Then, observing in the same isolated fashion
their own different occupations and interests, they imag
ined other divinities, also, presiding over each one of these.
The tendency of the heathen mind has always been to
multiply these imaginary deities.
The conception of one God is the most sublime of all
possible conceptions. Science has shown the unity of the
creation, a unity comprehending the universe, and which
is expressed by its name. It has thus demonstrated the
truth of this conception of one Supreme Being.
We are taught that this great truth of the divine unity
was imparted to mankind by direct revelation. The ob
servation of the uniform tendency of the mind in the
opposite direction, or to the multiplication of divinities, as
illustrated in all pagan history, affords strong confirmation
of this doctrine. If, however, any doubt remains that a
direct revelation was necessary in order that the truth of
one God should enter the human mind, that doubt must
be removed when one considers the persistent tendency of
our thought to division, as this is exhibited in modern
mental philosophy.

49
Precisely as men reasoned, if indeed the term
can be employed in such a connection, in creating their
separate divinities, so they have reasoned in imagining
separate mental faculties.
They observed the members of their bodies, and saw
that each one of these members had a separate and dis
tinct office to perform, and which it was expressly fitted
for performing ; as, for example, the eyes for seeing, and
the limbs for walking. From this observation they were
led to conceive of their minds, as being also composed of
members, each one of which was expressly adapted to the
performance of separate and distinct functions. These
several mental operations were arranged in classes or
divisions, without much regard to the unity that com
prehends them all, and a member or faculty of the mind
was imagined, adapted to perform each one of these
classes of operations. So these imaginary faculties re
ceived from the philosophers, just as the divinities did
from the poets' pen, their " names and habitations."
The description and classification of these imaginary
faculties, and the definition of the boundaries allotted to
each one, or of its especial function, is called mental phil
osophy. In this operation of cutting up the mind, a difficulty was
encountered when the dissectors came to the acts of rejoic
ing and sorrowing, of loving and hating, and of speaking
or acting truly or falsely. It was evident that these must
be the acts of the spirit in its unitj^. No ingenuity could
contrive separate members to which the performance of
these acts should be committed.
The difficulty was met after the heroic or Alexandrine
fashion. What were regarded as the moral and emotional
parts of our nature were denied the possession of faculties.
Moreover, being destitute of these appendages, it was
obvious to the philosophic mind that this supposed separ
ate department of our spiritual being was not entitled to
scientific consideration, in any such sense as that in which
this consideration was bestowed on the intellect, which i
was held to be blest with the exclusive possession of facul- l
ties. Philosophers, essentially repeating one another continu-

50
ally, have been blind to the fact that, in assuming the reality
of this artificial and wholly imaginary system, they have
ignored the supreme element of spiritual existence, and
the highest form of activity in their own nature, in a de
gree that is fatal to any conception of truth in its unity,
or to the conception of the real nature of truth.
Now, it is submitted that it is high time that all this
work of the imagination should follow the classical deities,
which, in the conceptions of their adorers, were once so
real that they could not be spoken against, but which have
not now a worshipper ; and that the recognition of the
supreme truth of one God should be supplemented by the
recognition of the truth of the unity of the human mind.
The importance of this latter truth, and the necessity for
its recognition, if any progress is to be made in the appre
hension of spiritual realities, will become abundantly evi
dent as we advance in this discussion. Moreover, it will
be seen that practical consequences of a most serious and
injurious nature follow from this doctrine of divisions of
the mind, a doctrine which has been universally accepted,
as if these divisions really existed, instead of being imagin
ary parts of the spirit of man, which, in reality is indivisi
ble. The artificial and mistaken habit of thought which
has thus been engendered affects disastrously both our
systems of education and our religious conceptions.

51

MECHANICAL SCIENCE
AND
THE REASON.

In a preceding paper reference has been made to a class
of persons who, from whatever cause, are, in fact, not
honest seekers after truth. The ascertainment of truth is
not the real object of men who belong to the class referred
to, however they may persuade others, and even them
selves, to the contrary.
The real purpose of such persons is to strengthen them
selves in a belief already formed. They are laboring to
sustain their theory, to maintain their position, to carry
their point. They always have a feeling of anxiety
about the result of their inquiries, a feeling that is quite at
variance with a judicial disposition, and which marks the
advocate. We come now to consider another class of thinkers, and
a numerous class at the present day, who are more agree
able to contemplate. This class is made up of men who,
for the most part, are sincere in their search after truth,
but who make the mistake of supposing that truth is to be
ascertained by the mere exercise of their reasoning powers.
This influential body of men, led by profound and acute
minds, present a study of the greatest interest. What
ever may be the differences, and these are endless, in the
particulars of their belief, they all agree in one thing, and
may be grouped together as rationalists. All forms of
rationalism unite in claiming supreme authority for "the
unaided human reason." In this the rationalists repeat
the philosophy of antiquity, and they likewise imitate that
philosophy in employing "empiricism" as a term of re
proach. Rationalism delights in confusion of thought. It ex
ists only by virtue of confusion of thought. When this
confusion shall be reduced to order rationalism must
cease. It disregards the broad and fundamental distinc-

52
tion between reasoning and observing. It claims for the
reason every discovery in science and every invention in
mechanics, when it is certain that all these are revelation's
to man, which are received by him either wholly, or at
least primarily, through the methods of experiment and
observation. Thus, using words in a loose and incorrect manner,
rationalism ascribes to the reason a vague and boundless
authority. It worships this imaginary faculty, this crea
tion of its own hands.
The influence that is exerted by rationalistic teaching at
the present day is very great. It is felt in every depart
ment of thought. It affects largely the teaching heard
from the pulpit. This influence is wholly pernicious.
Under it the mind becomes lost in endless mazes of error.
The more brilliant the will-o'the-wisp that allures into
any of the vagaries of rationalism, the more hopeless the
entanglement becomes. Confidence in the conclusions if
the reason is a delusion that is all the more fascinating
and dangerous, because it flatters the pride of intellect, a
conceit that, like "the fatal gift of beauty," often turns
the heads of its possessors to their ruin.
Mechanical science calls a halt to this vain wandering of
thought. It shows, and insists upon, the distinction be
tween reasoning and observing. It shows that wherever
mental speculations can be brought to the test of experi
ment and observation, they are invariably discovered to
be wrong. In mechanics it is found, universally, that
every step taken by the mind in advance, on untrodden
ground, however certain the processes of reasoning may
seem to be, is always taken, in some degree at least, in a
wrong direction, and needs to be corrected ; and that the
mistake can be corrected in only one way, namely, by ex
periment and observation. Thus mechanical science di-
rects thought into the paths of true philosophy. This
philosophy, it will be attempted briefly to outline, so far
as is required for the purposes of our argument.
The first step must be to rid the mind of that creation
of our imagination, the reason. No progress can be made j
until this has been done. A glamour surround this
" shape that shape has none," that seems to render cor-

53
rect reasoning extremely difficult. When, however, we
are able to see clearly that the only reality that can be
expressed by this term is the mental process, by which the
spirit of man, in its unity, discusses the appearances
which are given in consciouness, then the first position
has been gained. It is important that we should see that
"the reason " is, itself, one of those unwarranted concep
tions that the spirit, in its form-constructing activity, is
continually creating. When we are fairly rid of this con
ception, and are able instead of it to consider the act of
reasoning, then it becomes evident that the subject matter
of reasoning must first be given in consciousness, and the
distinction between reasoning and observing becomes an
obvious one.
The act of observing, including the verification of the
reality and the truth of the image formed in conscious
ness, is an exceedingly complex act. It calls into exercise
every form of our spiritual activity, and it manifests all
the qualities that, in their aggregate, constitute character.
It is not proposed to attempt an analysis of this act, but
only to point out that the appeal for the exposure of the
falsity, or the verification of the truth, of the mental con
ception, must always be made to a criterion existing
wholly outside of the mind itself.
The science that deals at once with spiritual and with
concrete realities, affords here the very help we need. It
does this in two ways, first, by maintaining the import
ant distinction between the acts of observing and of reas
oning, and, second, by exhibiting the tendency of the mind
to form erroneous conceptions, and its complete inability
of itself to correct or even to detect its errors.
It is interesting to consider the light that is thrown by
mathematics upon this distinction between observing and
reasoning. The processess of mathematical reasoning are
certain. They are of a nature that excludes doubt. But
in the physical applications of mathematics, that is, in the
application of mathematical reasoning to any purpose
whatever, the correctness of the result depends entirely
upon the correctness and the sufficiency of the data, and
these data mathematics does not provide, nor does it
primarily contribute in the least degree to their provision.

54
The fault is not an uncommon one among mathemati
cians of neglecting proper verification of their data, or proper
assurance that all essential data have been given them.
The mathematical mind, just in the degree that it is ex
clusively mathematical, seems inclined to be wrapped up
in its processes, and to be satisfied with their certainty, so
as to be incapable of appreciating the anxious observation
that must be exercised in ascertaining the data on which
its calculations are to be based. In this respect, a simi
larity appears between mathematicians and rationalists,
that is precisely what one would expect.
I once witnessed an incident that illustrated the uncer
tainty which attends all physical applications of mathe
matics, in cases where the necessary data have not been
well established. At a meeting of the American Associa
tion for the Advancement of Science, that was held in the
city of Albany some twenty- five years ago, in the Physical
Section, which was presided over by Professor Henry, a
paper on a subject in mixed mathematics was presented
by Professor Pierce, of Harvard. When the reading of
the paper had been concluded, Professor Alexander, of
Princeton, arose and requested that the discussion of it
might be postponed till the next day, as he expected then
to present a paper on the same subject, in which, by a
different course of reasoning, he had arrived at precisely
the opposite conclusion. Some different elements had en
tered into the problem, as it had been attacked by each of
these eminent mathematicians.
The discovery of the planet Neptune is often cited as a
prominent and striking instance of the discovery of a fact
by the mere exercise of the reasoning powers, through a
purely mathematical process. This discovery is referred
to here on account of the important aid that it renders to
our argument. No event has ever been more misappre
hended, for there is none that places the distinction be
tween observation and reasoning in a stronger light, or that
exhibits in a more remarkable manner the dependence of
reasoning upon previous observation for the correctness of
its results.
The power of the analysis that could locate the unseen
planet, and the strength with which this mighty weapon

55
was wielded by the young English and French mathema
ticians, whose names are forever associated with this dis
covery, command the admiration of men. The basis on
which this analysis proceeded was, the accumulating ir
regularities in the orbit of the planet Uranus. This orbit
had been computed, as it would be determined by the in
fluence of all known attractions ; but, to the surprise of
astronomers, Uranus did not move in this orbit. The de
gree of its departure from it was ascertained by observa
tion, and this obviously could not be learned in any other
way. If these observations had not been exact, or if they
had been insufficient, in either case the mathematicians
would have been misled, the result reached by the mathe
matical process would have been wrong, the planet would
have been looked for in the wrong place, and would not
have been found.
But it is reserved to mechanical science to afford the
most convincing demonstration both of the dependence of
reasoning upon data otherwise ascertained, and of the
tendency to error in all mental processes, which tendency
can be shown and corrected only by observation and ex
periment. We may first refer to the application of mathematical
reasoning to mechanics. Engineers know very well that
it will not do, in practice, to conform to any deductions of
mathematics, unless these deductions have been founded
on exhaustive experiments. All such deductions made in
disregard of this requirement, and it may be added that
the name of these is legion, are presumably worthless.
Some factor is certain to be omitted; some requirement,
often of great consequence, is sure to be under-estimated,
or even to be entirely overlooked. The result of every
experiment is always in some respect a surprise. Some
thing is revealed that was not anticipated. The great
structure of mechanical science has been reared by mathe
matical investigation, upon the foundation of experiment;
and, to change the figure, experiment has been the plumb
and the level and the square, the application of which to
this structure has been necessary at every point in its
rise. The unvarying fact that appears in mechanics is one

56
that requires to be stated again with emphasis. Every
step that is taken in advance upon untrodden ground is
sure to be taken in some degree in a wrong direction ; and
the mind possesses within itself no power to correct the
error, nor even to determine whether or not the step is an
error. Notions of a novel character, which, from all the
thought that can be given to them, even by experienced
persons, seem most certain to be correct, turn out in the
large majority of cases to be delusions. The experience of
inventors in every branch of mechanics, as well as that of
explorers in those branches of physics that are not strictly
mechanical, will confirm this statement. The most com
prehensive knowledge fails when it finds itself confronted
by a single unfamiliar feature. The tyro is always confi
dent, but the utmost that the man of experience will per
mit himself to affirm respecting a new device or new
operation, even in those rare cases in which he can detect
nothing which is at variance with truth already estab
lished, is that it seems to be worth trying.
One of the greatest of living inventors once said to me :
' ' There can't be any more mistakes, I have made them
all." Professor Tyndall relates that, in entering upon his
investigations respecting the power of the atmosphere to
arrest radiant heat, he assumed that the aqueous vapor
contained in the atmosphere, being so minute a quantity,
rarely exceeding one two-hundredth part of the volume of
the air, might be disregarded. He was perplexed by the
varying character of the results obtained, until he began to
suspect that the varying degrees of humidity of the at
mosphere might have something to do with these results.
The final outcome of his exhaustive researches, as is well
known, was the discovery of the important fact, that dry
air has no power at all to arrest radiant heat, and that the
aqueous vapor contained in the atmosphere, which for a
long time he could not see that he should pay any attention
to, affords the only protection to the earth, to prevent the
immediate loss, by radiation into space, of the heat re
ceived by it from the sun.
Such candor as is exhibited in these confessions marks the
true seer into nature. Through such minds only can phy-

57
sical truth be revealed to men. And it is only by effort on
the part of such men, sincere, patient and persevering in
a degree beyond ordinary comprehension, that the clouds
and darkness which are round about every form of physi
cal truth can be penetrated.
Poets are not by any means authorities, but in the line
" What can we reason but from what we know ?"
the poet came very near to expressing the truth. The im
portant addition, "or what we suppose that we know,"
would most likely have spoiled the versification, but would
have made the question complete.
Thus mechanical science exposes the true reality of
what is so proudly termed "the unaided human reason."
And it does this in a manner that enables the baseless
character of its pretentions to be seen and understood by
all men.
It is certain that in mechanics, all attempts to ascertain
truth by mere reasoning infallibly lead men astray.. Active
minds create legions of phantoms, all of which need, not to
be discussed and argued about, but to be mercilessly ex
posed and destroyed. In mechanics we see clearly enough,
that the employment of "the unaided human reason "is
merely reasoning, or pretending to do so, without any
properly established data, which here at least would obvi
ously be the work of fools.
In mechanics we are confronted by two facts, which are
as familiar as any facts of human experience can be. The
first of these is, that, in the search after physical truth,
the mind is, to the last degree, fallible, and liable to error.
Where, out of all possible images that we can form in
consciousness, there can be only one that corresponds with
the reality, we are equally liable, instead of this, to form .
any one of the endless number of images that would rep-
i-esent nothing, and to accept this phantom of our brain as
true. We have within ourselves no power to distinguish
the true from the false. In advancing even one step be
yond what is already established and familiar, we find our
selves iu absolute need of a guide, who shall arrest our
tendency to error, and shall set our feet in the right path
on solid ground.

58
The second fact is that this infallible guide has appeared,
surrounding man on every side, precisely adapted to this
service, demanding his recognition, and his absolute sub
mission to its control and guidance ; and that it is by the
aid of this guide that all progress in physical knowledge
has been made.
It is the familiar teaching of mechanical science, re
specting the means by which we have arrived at our pres
ent knowledge of physical truth, and by which all further
knowledge of this nature is to be got, that this knowledge
is imparted to us, and verified to us, wholly from without,
beyond and above ourselves.
Now, this is a fact of supreme consequence, not only in
itself, but still more on account of the deductions which
appear naturally, and indeed necessarily, to" be drawn from
it. For there seems to be no way of escape from the conclu
sion, that this truth, which is so certain with respect to the
facts of mechanical science, and, it should be added, of all
science as well, must in reality be a universal truth, of
which these practical illustrations or applications are, to
our present sight, merely the most obvious and unmistak
able expressions.
The folio wing propositions seem to be self-evident:
First. If the unaided human mind cannot be relied
upon for the ascertainment of any physical truth, this is a
direct intimation that we are not to rely upon it for the
ascertainment of any other form of truth. If, as is obvi
ously the case, our mental powers are not given to us to be
employed as the means for arriving, by any mere un-
guided exercise of them, at the knowledge of physical
truth, we have no right to rely upon their unaided power
or activity as the means of arriving at higher forms of
truth. If at every step to physical knowledge we need
an infallible guide, it is a reasonable presumption that we
require such a guide everywhere.
Second. If such a guide is found to have been provided
here, it would be unreasonable to suppose that mankind
have been left helpless in any other respect. On the con-

59
trary, the presumption is exceedingly strong, that if, in his
search after physical truth, man finds at his hand the very
aid he needs, without which he must have remained in
helpless ignorance, in a state in which every creation of
his imagination would appear to him as a reality, but by
the employment of which he may hope to reach the
heights of physical knowledge, so he must be able, if he
will, to find aid equally available and equally efficient, as
well as equally indispensable, in his search after spiritual
truth. And finally. If this guide to physical truth can be of
no service to man, except as he seeks for it, voluntarily
employs it, recognizes its infallible nature, holds his con
structive and his reasoning powers entirely subordinate to
it, yea, humbles and prostrates himself before it, it is a
reasonable conclusion that he must deal in precisely the
same manner with the guide that shall lead him to the
knowledge of any truth whatever.
Such a unity pervades all truth, physical and spiritual,
and this unity is so obvious to us, that the force of this
argument from analogy cannot be either disregarded or
resisted. The criterion of all truth, spiritual as well as
physical, to which the appeal must always be made, is to
be found only at its source, and the universal guide to
it is

60

REVELATION.

In the preceding paper I have endeavored to point out
the analogies that are afforded by mechanical science, and .
which seem to lead to the conclusion that all truth must
be communicated to the human mind from without, that
is, by revelation. In this and subsequent papers I shall
present some considerations which tend directly to con
firm this conclusion.
If it be the fact that we cannot arrive at the knowledge
of any truth, except as this knowledge is imparted to us
from a source external to our own minds, then, clearly, it
is of the first importance that this fact should be univer
sally recognized. However inclined the reader may now
be to question this proposition, in the general form in
which it is stated, I hope, if he will accompany me in my
attempt to present the reasons on which the proposition is
rested, he will in the end be prepared to give his assent to
it, to yield to the evidences of its truth.
Our minds must first be disabused of an unfavorable
prepossession. The term "revelation " has been used in a
restricted sense. It has been customary to employ this
term only to express the verbal mode in which the highest
of all forms of truth has been communicated to man; and
which particular form of truth it is obvious could not have
been imparted to him in any other way.
It is claimed that this limitation is unwarranted, and
also that it is unfortunate, in that it has served to hide the
essential unity of all truth, by assuming a radical distinc
tion between the modes in which the knowledge of its
different forms or manifestations is conveyed to us; a dis
tinction that in reality has no existence. All forms of
truth proceed from one source, and are intimately related
to each other, and are associated with each other in their
relations to man. The essential unity between physical and
spiritual truth will form the subject of a separate paper.

61
At present we will only observe, that this unity enables
the latter class -of truths to be presented under the forms
of the former class; that both alike involve deep mys
teries; that truths of either class are capable of being ap
prehended only by the humble and teachable spirit which
has been prepared for their reception; and that, within
the limited extent to which the knowledge of either phy
sical or spiritual truths is possible for us, there are de
grees in the apprehension of either, which are proportion
ate to the fitness of the mind to receive the truth, and to
the earnestness of the search for it. These close analogies"
or likenesses point clearly to a common source, from
which the knowledge of both these forms of truth is im
parted to us. If this indication be correct, then the term
''revelation " ought to be employed in a general, or rather
in a universal, sense.
In point of fact, all truths are equally revealed to men,
only the mode of revelation differs, as the nature of each
truth requires. We shall find that different classes of
truths are revealed to us in different ways, as is made
necessary by their varied nature. Each one of the several
modes of revelation will be seen to be the only way in
which, as we are constituted, the particular class of truths
which is revealed to us in that way could be made known
to us.
Attention is first invited to some general considerations
which serve to indicate very clearly that all truths must be
imparted to the human mind from a source external to
itself. With respect to mechanical science, the truth of this
proposition has been abundantly shown. But a general
survey of the history of human thought will prepare the
mind to i*eceive evidence of its universal character. It
will be observed that, just as the unguided imagination
becomes filled with false mechanical conceptions, in pre
cisely the same manner out of the unguided activity of
the mind there have proceeded all false religions, all false
morality, and all false philosophy, of whatever form.
From within the human spirit all perversions of both phy
sical and spiritual truth have sprung. In every field of
thought alike, men have constructed in consciousness

62
images which represented no realities, and have treated
these vain fancies as if they were true.
Thus all experience appears to confirm the deductions of
analogy. The liability to error, the need of a guide, which
is so manifest in exploring the regions of physical truth
seems to b3 equally apparent in every other field of
thought. In all alike, whenever the mind acts independ
ently of direction from the source of truth, it seems
equally liable to fall into error. It would appear as if this
tendency to error wras not by any means confined to me
chanical truth, but was rather a universal one, and that
its invariable presence in the former relation, that experi
ence renders so obvious, merely serves to open our eyes to
its universal existence. Indeed, in the light that is shed
on this subject from all these sources, we seem warranted
in the a priori conclusion, that whatever has its origin in
the human mind, and receives its development from the
unguided operation of that mind alone, must of necessity
be false. It would seem that all truth must come to us
from the infinite ; that an intelligence that is less than
infinite can come to the knowledge of any truth only as it
is taught.
If this be the case, then we are shut up to revelation.
It must be by revelation alone that we can receive any cer
tain knowledge. The source and the test of all truth must
be wholly from above ourselves. We must submit to re
ceive everything from the almighty hand.
I have used the expression " shut up to revelation."
This is liable to convey a false impression. In reality, our
minds must be opened to revelation. We cannot conceive
of its abundance or of its variety. Spiritual as well as
physical revelation fills the earth and the heavens. It is
infinite. The fullness of our own being is limited only by
the wideness with which that being is voluntarily opened
to receive the universal revelation of all truth.
The question now presents itself : In what manner is
this revelation made to us ? The answer to this question
is given in the nature of things. To our spiritual being as
a unit, all appearing in the same consciousness, and in a
degree that is limited only by our capacity to receive each
one, every revelation of physical and of spiritual truth is

63
made through appropriate senses, with all which we have
been endowed for the obvious purpose of receiving these
revelations. This truth will, I think, be rendered obvious,
if, commencing at the lowest form of revelation, we shall
examine its various modes somewhat in detail. Such an
examination will be attempted in succeeding papers.

64

THE REVELATION OF OBJECTS OF
SENSE.

We begin our review with the external or sensible crea
tion. This is certainly revealed to us. We cannot form
in our minds a correct preconception of anything. If in
any case we permit ourselves to form a preconception, this
vanishes in the presence of the reality. The single obvious
duty of every original inquirer is, to form a correct image
in the mind by observation of the reality, and in no other
way. We are endowed with a variety of physical senses,
which are adapted for the observation of every quality of
external objects, and which will convey to the mind true,
and so far as they go complete, ideas of them. We thus
obtain all the knowledge that we need to have, and all
that we were evidently intended to have, concerning these
objects. We should observe here the variety of our senses. One
sense alone may be deceived, indeed it often is so. But
others are always at hand to detect the imposition. I once
visited Eton Hall, the seat of the Marquis of Westminster.
On being admitted to the grand entrance hall, the appear
ance of magnificence was very impressive. But I rapped
on one of the supposed marble columns, and it was wood.
The artist had done his imitative work wonderfully well,
but it could not deceive the senses of touch or of hearing.
Universally, we find ourselves provided, in our various
senses, with the means for verifying the reality of the
objects themselves, as distinguished from the images of
them that are formed in our minds, and also for verifying
the correctness of these images, as the counterparts of the
objects, which are presented through our senses for our
mental apprehension. The completeness of the adapta
tion of our senses to both these functions, and the manner
in which one sense supplements another, and all combine
to give to the mind full assurance on both these points,
are calculated to fill us with admiration and wonder.

65
Thus we find the beginning of human knowledge to be
received into the mind by re relation, which is made in the
mode and through the senses that are appropriate to the
character of this knowledge. We need not here enter
further into the philosophy of perception. It is necessary
only to emphasize the fact that the single obvious duty of
man in this relation is to observe. This, clearly, is the
only function of the mind that it is now called upon to
exercise. The objects of sense are not created by the
mind. Their nature and condition are not in any way
affected by its action. They are merely shown to it, and
perceived by it. Man becomes a conscious, voluntary and
active agent in receiving knowledge of this nature merely
by observing.
But a mind is conceivable that refuses to receive know
ledge in this way — that declines to submit to any such
test of the correctness of its preconceptions — that insists
that all these appearances are contrary to reason. In
stances of such refusal are common enough where the
facts have been observed by others. An example of this
was furnished a few years ago by some German geog
raphers, who had constructed a map of the interior of
Africa as they concluded it necessarily must be, and who
declared the reports of certain discoveries, when those
were first announced, to be untrue, because the lakes and
rivers discovered had not been so laid down on their map.
But we are supposing the case of a man who rejects, as
unreasonable, facts that are being continually verified by
the general observation of mankind. Common sense,
however, recognizes the conclusiveness of the tests em
ployed, and the fitness of the physical senses for this work
of observation and verification.
The argument that I wish to urge is made very strong
by the fact that there is no such person. No sane man
ever thought of anything so obviously absurd, as in this
field to set the conclusions of any process of reasoning
before the facts that are established by observation.
But such a misdirection of our mental activities would
be no more ridiculous than are those misapplications of
them that we are accustomed to see in the opposite direc
tion. We behold continual attempts made to establish

66
imagined spiritual ' realities or truths by processes of rea
soning, when it is evident that reasoning is not the mode
of spiritual revelation any more than it is the mode of
physical revelation.
The present consideration of the subject of perception
will be concluded with two observations:
First. Perception' through our senses is obviously the
only way in which external objects could be revealed to
us. Language would convey no idea of them. Our senses
are expressly adapted to receive or to form the images of
these forms of truth, and to present these images and
verify them in our consciousness.
Second. We shall find this to be the universal law.
Every fact and truth, physical and spiritual, from the
lowest to the highest, is, in like manner, revealed to man,
in the onljT possible way, through senses which are ex
pressly adapted to receive it, and to present it and verify
it in consciousness.
We come now to consider the revelation of the facts of
natural science. Here an interesting distinction presents
itself. The ordinary objects of sense, when these are first
beheld by any individual who is capable of reflection, are
viewed with the consciousness that, while new to him,
they are familiar objects to others, and have been so to all
generations of men. But in the case of a fact in science
there is always a discoverer, to whom the fact is first dis
closed, and by whom it is viewed, as Galileo beheld the
planet Venus crescent like the moon, or the satellites
revolving about Jupiter, or, as recently, . the satellites of
Mars were seen by Hall, with the consciousness that he is
the first of mortals to behold it, and that through him the
knowledge of it is to be conveyed to the minds of his
race. In all cases, however, there is the certainty that the
fact itself is not new. There is an intelligence to whom it
has always been familiar, while it is not unreasonable to
suppose that there may also be an infinity of inferior in
telligences, by whom it was known before. In most cases,

as in that of the pressure of the atmosphere, we find that
the fact, while it was yet all unknoAvn to man, had its
myriad uses. When once the fact has been disclosed to
us, these uses are found to come within our comprehen
sion, and to be in immediate connection with our own
daily life, just as multitudes of facts are, of the nature of
which we still remain in ignoi-ance. We then discover
that all nature had been adapted to this fact, that in the
infinite complications as it appears to us, but what in
reality is the harmonious interrelation of all created
things, this fact was essential to the performance of in
numerable functions by other agencies ; that iu the begin
ning it had formed a necessary feature in the plan of the
creation. With respect to discoveries in natural science this fact
appears. These discoveries are all made by the activity of
the mind in observing — the same mode in which the mind
exercises itself in forming images of any objects in nature.
The difference lies wholly in the closeness of the observa
tion, in the degree of attention that is given, and in the
discrimination that is made. Between thes different de
grees of spiritual application no line of separation can be
drawn. We pass byr insensible steps from one extreme of
care and power in observation to the other.
From the first discovery of its own hands by a little
child up thi'ough familiarity with all things as they are
presented to us, still up, till we reach what are known as
elemental forms of matter, where now our progress in this
direction is arrested, still up, until we see the trained and
penetrating intelligence able, through the revelations of
the spectroscope, to affirm the constitution of suns and of
nebulas, and still up, through all physical discoveries that
ever shall be, we see all to be made by directing the spirit
ual being into the same form of activity, with reference
to different objects, by the aid of different helps, and with
different degi-ees of concentration.
In all these cases alike, we deal with those manifesta
tions of force which are familiary known as matter, and
for the apprehension of which by us they and our senses
are mutually adapted. And in all alike, the mind, in
order to be fit for the reception of the true image, must be

68
absolutely free from preconceptions, so as to be able, with
just discrimination, to estimate all appearances at their
true value.
Moreover, every mind must be at liberty to point out
the oversights or the misconceptions of any other mind, so
that, through many independent observers, every form of
personal error may be detected and corrected. In this
way the true idea, corresponding to the reality, is finally
determined. It will be observed that discoveries in science are made
by the faithful employment of all the powers and means
of observation that are either directly given to man,
or that he is endowed with the ability to produce. This is
the way in which all the facts in physical science are re
vealed to him, and, as was observed with respect to the
ordinary objects of perception, it is obviously, as we are
constituted, the only way in which these facts could be
revealed. From the complete adaptation of our physical sen
ses to this work of perception and verification wTe have the
same right to conclude that they were expressly designed
by their Maker for this obvious and necessary use, that
we have to conclude that the instruments that we employ
to aid us in these researches were expressly designed for
this purpose by their makei-s.
It is a fact well worthy of observation, that it has never
occurred to any one to say : If we possessed an additional
sense, we would then be able to apply an additional test of
the reality of external objects, or of the correctness of the
images of these objects that we form in our minds ! This
has never occurred to any one, and it never can occur to
any one, because we do not feel any such want. We per
ceive our equipment for both these pui-poses to be complete.
We cannot conceive of any use for another sense, nor of
another sense to be used. We cannot imagine a test, to
these ends, additional to those which we are now able to
apply. On both these points the employment of the
senses that we have brings entire conviction and satisfac:
tion to our minds.
We note here already the appearance of the universal
law of hungering and thirsting. The pearls of science are
not cast before swine. Physical truth can be imparted

69
only to those minds which have been prepared to receive
it, which are devoted to the search after it, and which
prize it above rubies. Minds that are in any degree in
different to it must, just in that degree, remain dead to its
existence. And. on the other hand, the completeness of
the preparation, and the earnestness of the search, measure
the degree in which this form of truth, like every other,
is, or properly speaking can be, imparted to man.
In concluding these remarks upon the revelation of the
physical creation, I desire to call special attention to the
fact, that this revelation is always inclusive of the verifica
tion both of the reality of objects, and of the truth of the
images of them that we see in consciousness. No question
can arise here about the criterion of truth. The evidence \
is conclusive to the mind that is prepared to receive the
truth at all. The inquirer has been to the highest source
of knowledge that he can conceive of, in fact, he has been
to a higher source than he can conceive, and he is satisfied. '¦
This we shall find to be the case universally. Every form '
of revelation is of such a nature as to be conclusive of its
own truth, to minds which are prepared for its reception.

70

COOPERATION.

A difficulty has doubtless already occurred to the reader,
in the way of admitting the truth that we receive all our
knowledge by revelation. This apparent difficulty lies in
the fact, that knowledge is so obviously acquired by our
own exertion. In the mere work of perception, already
first considered, we are required to employ our senses, and
to bring our spiritual being into a state of activity ; and in
the higher departments of knowledge the mental effort by
which this knowledge is acquired is still more serious,
being in most cases the utmost of which we are capable.
How, then, can knowledge be said to be revealed to us ?
Before proceeding further, it is necessary that this question
should be answered.
The same difficulty comes in the way of our under
standing the truth, that all our possessions are given to us,
when, apparently, we get them ourselves. These pos
sessions are the direct fruit of our own exertions, unless
we have obtained those which are the fruit of the exer
tions of somebody else. In the same manner, all achieve
ment is the result of properly directed and adequate effort,
and it is not to be reached or accomplished in any other
way than by such effort.
The truth about all this matter was fitly illustrated by
the Christ, in the declaration that our Heavenly Father
feeds the fowls of the air, when we have the apparent
evidence of our senses that they feed themselves. When,
however, we consider the matter, we observe that the
series of acts that are necessary to sustain the existence of
the fowls of the air is long and interrelated far beyond our
power to trace. Of all these acts, the conscious and volun
tary performance of only one is committed to the fowls
themselves. They have only to select and take the food
and drink that they find provided for them, and adapted
to their sustenance. We observe further, that this single
intermediate act is the only act that the fowls have the
ability to perform. The power is given to them to do

71
that which is required of them, and which is committed
to them to be done, and no more.
This is precisely the case with man. All difficulty dis
appears from this subject, when we consider, how many
things are necessary to be done, in order that any revela
tion shall be received, or any result be accomplished, by
man ; and, out of this inconceivable number and variety
of acts, how few have been committed to man himself.
Almost everything is done for him. It is especially note
worthy that, as in the case of the fowls, so also in that of
man, the little that is left for him to do is all that he can
do. In its nature and its extent it is precisely adapted to
his powers. It fully employs them. He is called upon to
exert himself to the full extent of his ability. There is
nothing, above that which man enjoys in common with
inanimate nature, that he can receive without his own
voluntary cooperative effort. From the supply of his
lowest bodily wants, up to the satisfying of the highest
longings of his spiritual being, his own active cooperation
is the condition essential to every gift. We are able to
perceive that this must be the case, in the very nature of
things. The desire and the receptive power or condition
must exist on the part of man. There obviously cannot
be such a thing as the passive reception by man of any
good, above that which, as already stated, he shares in
common with inanimate nature.
We shall, in a later paper, have occasion to observe the
fact that all the apparently independent agencies in nature
are working together in harmony, cooperating with each
other in ceaseless activity and to the full extent of their
efficiency, for a single purpose, and that this purpose is
the well-being and the happiness of man. We have now
presented to us the further fact, that man, on his part,
must join in this harmonious activity ; that in order to
become the recipient of any good whatever, from the low
est up to the highest conceivable, he must perform his
appointed part. All agencies of which we have any
knowledge are working for him, and we may naturally
suppose that this beneficent activity extends also to
agencies which it is beyond our power to discern ; but all

72
must be to no purpose without the voluntary cooperation
of man himself.
This law of cooperation is a most important one. A
clear apprehension of its universal and necessary nature
will aid us to the understanding of much that, for the
want of such apprehension is often obscured. I shall, in
this place, limit myself to a single illustration of this law,
drawn from the primary labor of man. While thus ob
served only in its first and most simple application, its
universal nature will be obvious. Then, when we resume
the line of thought, now interrupted, we shall see the fact
continually exhibited, that man's voluntary cooperative
activity is the essential condition of the communication to
him, or reception by him, of any gift, or any revelation,
and may properly be considered as the mode in which
these are imparted to him.
It is assumed as obvious that there must be an infinite
giver, from whom we receive everything, including our
existence. Beyond this gift of existence, there are only
four things that we receive without our own cooperation,
which, iu a sense more or less absolute, may be termed
voluntary. These are light, warmth, air and water.
Light fills the universe, and enters our open organs of
sight. We may say that no act on our part, either volun
tary or involuntary, is required in order that light shall
enter these organs, and there form the images of external
objects. Indeed, we must close our eyes in order to keep
the light and the images out. So also from the same
source, the sun, we receive warmth without any act on
our part.
After these first gifts of light and warmth, it is interest
ing to observe the gradual manner in which our acts, upon
which the reception of all other gifts depends, assume a
voluntary character. At first the act is compelled by a
sensation of want. It becomes truly voluntary only when
choice has become free.
With respect to air, we have our being at the bottom of
our atmospheric ocean, in which both the earth and all
things and beings upon it are immersed, and out of which
no animal or vegetable could exist. To receive this into our
bodies, there to perform its amazing functions, we have

73
only to breathe. The act of breathing can'hai-dly be called
voluntary in any sense. The necessity is urgent, the
supply is instant, and the act is performed with equal
regularity in our conscious and our unconscious states.
Water, the next universal necessity, universally pro
vided, we must drink. This is only a semi-voluntary act.
It is performed under the pressure of an impulse, which,
if not sooner yielded to, grows to be irresistible.
It is to be observed that we share these four gifts with
all organic being, vegetable as well as animal. The exist
ence of all alike is dependent upon them ; and in each
one, and in the relations that each one sustains to all being,
there are involved infinite wonders, to which the mind
that is in the least degree thoughtful cannot, even by
constant familiarity, be rendered insensible.
But we now pass beyond these. The vegetable creation
has only to expose itself to the warmth and the light of
the sun, to breathe and to drink. Animals must also eat. '
But for every creature except man its food also is pro
vided, to be eaten in the state in which it finds it. Man
only feels the need, and possesses the intelligence to till
the ground and to make a fire. There are acts, additional
to the single one required of the animal, for which man's
intelligence was obviously given to him, and which he is
left to perform. In the nature of things, a command is
laid upon him to perform these acts, and this command he
must obey.
Here, in the work of supplying his lowest physical
wants, man's voluntary cooperative agency begins, never
to cease. And even here we cannot fail to be struck with
the relative insignificance of the part that is committed to
man, essential though that part is. The earth to be tilled
and the grain to be sown are provided for him. With
these provisions he certainly had nothing to do. And now
in faith and trust, not in the sunshine nor the rain, but,
whether consciously or unconsciously it matters not, in
reality, faith and trust in the unseen goodness behind the
sunshine and the rain, and in the assurance of that power,
whether heard or felt it matters not, that in the sweat of
his face he shall eat his bread, he tills the ground and
buries the seed out of his sight. In this simple act his ap-

74
pointed work is done. His part is performed. Now he
has only to wait and wonder, while the sun shines and the
rains descend, and the earth yields her increase. The seed
springs and grows, he knows not how, and multiplies and
ripens for the harvest.
It will not be necessary to pursue this subject further as
a separate topic. The analogy which the mind naturally
draws from this single illustration renders it sufficiently
obvious, that our cooperation must be a universal
requirement. The correctness of this conclusion all
observation of human affairs confirms. We are prepared
to recognize all human activity as the different modes of
man's cooperative work. We repeat that there cannot'
be such a thing as the passive reception by us of any good
above that which we enjoy in common with all animate
and inanimate nature. The receptive state of man is a
state of activity. Accordingly, throughout the diverse
modes of revelation, varying as these do with the varied
nature of the truths revealed, we shall find running, pre
cisely as analogy would lead us to expect, the unity of
man's co-operation.

75

THE REVELATION OF MECHANICAL
TRUTH.

The subject of revelation will now be resumed, by con
templating briefly the revelation of mechanical truth.
I do not propose to view mechanical truth here in its
largest aspect; but merely to present some considera
tions suggested by the practical applications of this form
of truth that are made by man.
We mark at this point the first important transition.
In a preceding paper we had our attention occupied by the
revelation of the forms of matter, or the sensible manifes
tations of force. Now, we are brought into immediate con
tact with the unseen. From what we term things, which,
indeed, are only embodied thought, but which we are not
often so regarded by us, because our attention is com
monly arrested on the object, we pass to the direct con
templation of thought itself, and of those embodiments of
it that have been committed to us.
In mechanical science, we find ourselves to have been
placed between two creations, the seen and the un
seen, as the agents for the embodiment of thought. Beyond
that provision for our existence that we share with all the
animal creation, we discover a boundless preparation to
have been made for our welfare and happiness, the em:
ployment or the utilization of which has been committed
to our own hands. The transition that we make here is
not in reality so great as at first it seems to be. It is only
from those thoughts which have completely embodied for
us to those which, in a great multitude of their applica
tions, have been left to be embodied by us.
For the purpose of this embodiment, these thoughts
must be communicated to us. The common idea is that
mechanical discoveries and inventions are made by men,
and there wo are accustomed to stop. But the properly
developed mind cannot rest upon this idea. We have
already dwelt upon the character of mind by which alone
mechanical truth can be originally apprehended, and upon

76
the process through which such minds must pass, in order
to arrive at the completed, or, as we say, the matured,
thought of any invention or discovery. In a mind that is
prepared to receive it a mechanical truth is disclosed
gradually. Seen dimly at first, through close and often
protracted application, and by submission to constant
practical correction, the thought grows in distinctness,
until at last it appears clear and self-luminous. And
the proposition now is, that these truths, in all their
completeness, are imparted to the mind by direct revela
tion, and that this laborious search is our necessary
cooperative act, or is the mode in which these revelations
are made to us.
When we reflect on this subject, one confirmation of this
truth presents itself after another. We cannot conceive of
thought except as existing in a mind. Indeed, we know
nothing of thought except as a function of mind. We
note, concerning the thought*of any mechanical construc
tion, as was observed concerning the facts of natural
science, and the thoughts that are embodied in them,
that the thought itself is not new. It is certain that there
must be a supreme intelligence to whom it has always
been known, a mind in which it has always existed, and
as with physical truth, so here also, we may rationally
suppose inferior intelligences to exist, in infinite number,
by whom it was known before. In fact we cannot draw
the line between physical and mechanical truth. Those
are intimately associated with each other. We pass from
one to the other by insensible steps. We see physical .;
truth everywhere underlying mechanical truth. More
over, we find throughout nature, especially in animal
structures, embodiments of mechanical thought, which we
recognize to be essentially the same as our own. Physical
and mechanical truths cannot be essentially distinguished
from each other. Their common origin is apparent.
Whether, therefore, mechanical thoughts are completed
in their embodiment by the Creator, or are in any part
committed for this purpose to man, the truth of their eter
nal existence in tthe Infinite Mind, in all their complete
ness, however great may be the mystery that it involves,

77
is one that we find ourselves compelled to assent to, as
much as to the eternity of physical thought.
Of the latter class of thoughts, Columbus was penetrated
with one, namely, the thought that the earth is' round.
But clearly this thought had existed in the Infinite Mind
since the earth assumed its form. Of the former class, let
us consider some of the grander thoughts to which
mechanical science has given embodiment, and which
have thus become important agencies in the civilization of
our race. These are thoughts of the varied applications of
steam and electricity, which, in annihilating space and time
in so large a degree, point unmistakably to a state of being
in which our existence shall be wholly independent of
these conditions.
It is not possible that any of these thoughts can be new,
in the absolute sense of that term ; for they constitute
agencies of an essential character in the work of human
development, and they must, therefore, have held a cor
responding place in the scheme of that development.
Neither is it conceivable that those thoughts should have
been originated by man independently without having
been imparted to him directly from the divine intelli
gence. The mode in which these thoughts are reached by
him forbids such a conception.
The divine ordering of human affairs involves, of neces
sity,, the communication of mechanical truths to man, as
he becomes prepared for their reception. Rightly viewed,
then, the idea of the direct revelation of these truths is
seen to be not only the natural, but the necessary idea.
No other case is conceivable, unless belief in the infinite
mind be rejected altogether.
But if the foreordering and the communication to man
of the most general mechanical thoughts be admitted,
then this admission must extend to the most minute as
well. There is no place where a line of separation can be
drawn. Every part of any mechanical structure, however
inconsiderable it may be, has its own especial function,
that must be performed, and which it only can perform.
It constitutes an essential feature of the complete concep
tion. In the Eternal Mind thought is always complete.
The minuteness of its detail is infinite. This is illustrated

78
everywhere in nature. So, when fully revealed to man,
mechanical thought must be revealed in all its complete
ness. This subject may be considered also from another point
of view, and such consideration, it seems to me, can hardly
fail to fix more firmly in the mind the conviction of the
direct revelation of mechanical truth.
All forms of matter have evidently been prepared with
reference to such revelation. Matter exists for the em
bodiment of thought. This is its great use. For many of
its forms it is the only apparent use. The completeness
of the adaptation of matter to this use is the subject of
ever growing wonder. Matter has waited through incon
ceivable duration for these uses to appear. During this
period it has passed through successive changes, and its
various forms have entered into multiplied combinations,
the uniform result of which has been to adapt it for varied
uses, to which in many cases it was not adapted in its
original condition. We naturally conclude, therefore,
that adaptation to these uses was the purpose of these
changes. The absolute dependence of man upon matter for the
embodiment or realization of his mechanical conceptions,
and the complete fitness of matter for this purpose, consti
tute one of those amazing correspondencies with which
nature is everywhere filled. The fundamental thought
which, precedent to any activity, is always formed in the
mind is a purpose, a thought of something to be done, of
some end to be accomplished. The thoughts which suc
ceed to this primary thought or purpose relate entirely to
matter. They group themselves under two heads. The
first is, the selection of the material suitable for the pur
pose. The second is, the mode of the application of this
material to the purpose. The relation between thought
and matter is, therefore, obvious. Matter exists for the
embodiment of thought. Each is necessary to the other.
Each is complementary to the other. The two are coordi
nate parts of one whole.
We cannot, then, stop short of the evident truth, that
thought and matter are from the same source ; that, as
man cannot create matter, so neither can he originate

79
thought ; that, as the forms of matter are shown to man
through his physical organs of perception, so also every
true mechanical thought is revealed immediately to his
mind ; and that, with reference to his work universally,
he receives the command that Moses received, and which,
from the very constitution of his being he must obey, "See
that thou make all things according to the pattern shewed
to thee in the mount."
We must not overlook the three-fold unity, which is ap
parent through their mutual adaptations, of thought, mat
ter, and man. In the great scheme, the part assigned to
man is the material embodiment of thought. The purpose
that man conceives to-day is new to him, but it has ex
isted, and matter has been prepared for its realization,
from the beginning. It is now shown to him, and so he
shares the thought, and becomes, through his free but har
monious activity, the agent to execute the will, and ac
complish the purpose, of the infinite mind.
The impressive truth now appears, that these purposes
are all purposes of good to man himself. There can be no
escape from this obvious fact. Man is employed as the
active agent in promoting his own happiness, in effecting
his own civilization. This is the beneficent end, to the ac
complishment of which matter, in its innumerable forms,
is adapted, and for which all thoughts which relate to mat
ter and its uses, and to which our view is at present
limited, have been, and are continually being, imparted to
man. We see clearly enough that mechanical thoughts and
uses for matter are fundamental requisites to the civiliza
tion of our race. Civilization appears only as these
thoughts are disclosed to man. To the Indian, few and
simple were the thoughts revealed, and so for him the
forests decayed unused, and the marble and the ore lay
unsunned. The revelation of mechanical thought has been
made to man very gradually, one thought at a time, and
in the order in which he has become prepared to receive it.
Sometimes these revelations have been separated by long
intervals, and at other times they have come crowded
thick together. They have appeared in grander and
grander procession since free thought began, in the pure

80
worship of Him "in whom are hid all the treasures of wis
dom and knowledge."
The question presents itself respecting the multitude of
erroneous mechanical ideas, mistaken notions, false con
ceptions, which first present themselves in the mind,
whence do all these come ? The only answer to this ques
tion is, that we do not know. We do know the fact,
although we are ignorant why it is so, that everything
requires its opposite. As there cannot be height without
depth, or the right hand direction without the left, so there
can be no truth without corresponding error. Moreover,
while truth is single, error is legion. Here we encounter
this law of opposites, and within ourselves we find not
only an inability to chose correctly, to distinguish be
tween the true and the false, but, moreover, we find that
almost always some form of error is the first to appear,
and we feel the inclination to accept and follow it as the
truth. But we find also that from without, and involved
in the very nature and method of the revelation, a test ap
pears, that we at once recognize to be infallible, by which
we shall know the true thought that is eternal, that alone
inhabits the Infinite Mind, that forms a part of the uni
versal harmony, and shall be able to distinguish this from
every form of error. Then we find that no place remains
for the latter, but as the truth grows brighter in the mind
error vanishes away.
The mode in which mechanical truth is revealed to man
suggests the reflection that inventions form no exception
to the rule, that mankind must receive all their blessings
through trial and suffering. Here, as everywhere else,
this appears to be the appointed way. How wonderful is
our mechanical inheritance ! Few persons ever attempt,
what is far beyond the power of any, to imagine its ex
tent. Every real invention has been produced for the
benefit of the human race forever. Many of these, in
deed, pass into oblivion, but not until they have served as
steps to something higher. What a history of endurance
and weariness do inventions represent! the forgotten ones,
the real germs, out of which the trees, perhaps long after,
grew, often costing most of all.
The remarks presented in this paper are intended to ap-

81
ply especially to mechanical inventions. Respecting me
chanical laws, or the uniform mode in which forces act,
or in which matter behaves under the action of force, as
well as respecting the properties of matter which adapt it
for mechanical uses, it does not seem necessary to make
these the subject of separate discussion. The train of
thought already followed applies to them directly. It is
evident that if anything of a physical nature is communi
cated to man by revelation, these must be.

82

THE REVELATION OF ABSTRACT
TRUTH.

Leaving, now, this mixed subject of thought and matter
in their relations to each other, we advance to the revela
tion of abstract truth, of ideal quantities, magnitudes and
numbers, and the relation of these to each other, which
constitute the science of pure mathematics.
One may say : " Surely these thoughts cannot be said
to be revealed to us, for they are arrived at as the result
of mental processes, that are performed within our con
sciousness, and they cannot be reached by us in any other
way." There are, however, two things that place this
subject before us in a different light. The first is, that
these thoughts did not originate in anyr finite intelligence,
and do not depend for their existence on any finite appre
hension of them. They existed before they were con
ceived of by any man, and if there be an Infinite Mind,
these must have existed eternally in that mind. The sec
ond thing is. that these thoughts are realities, and this in
a sense far higher than that in which any objects in nature
can be said to be realities. They are wholly objective to
us. They are merely shown to us, and are observed by
us in consciousness ; but they cannot be modified or af
fected in any way by the action of our minds in observing
them. Abstract thoughts or truths become objects of
our perception precisely as material forms do. The im
ages of them are held in our mental view, and are there
contemplated by us, in the same manner in which the im
ages of sensible objects are.
The revelation is, then, as certain and necessary in the
one case as it is in the other. The difference between the
two cases lies wholly in the mode of the revelation. This
mode differs, as is made necessary, by the different natures
of the objects revealed ; but the result, in bringing the
image of the object within our consciousness, is the same
in each case.

83
Concerning the revelations of abstract thoughts, pre
cisely as concerning the revelation of objects of sense, we
note these things :
First. The mode in which we receive this revelation is
the only mode in which, as we are constituted, this reve
lation could be made to us. Our power of mental percep
tion must be developed by exercise. Out of the infinity
of abstract truths which to superior intelligences must
stand equally self evident in their own light, probably as
parts of one whole, only a limited number are reached by
us, and by most persons only a very few, through slow
and laborious processes. Then those that have been so
reached are seen b\x us also in the same clear light. This
is obviously the necessary mode of the revelation of ab
stract truth to man, and tho way in which man must co
operate in receiving this revelation.
Second. This revelation of abstract truths, like the
revelation of objects of sense, is inclusive, first, of the re
ality of the objects revealed, and, second, of the correct
ness of our images or conceptions of them. This form of
verification we call demonstration. It is always satisfac
tory to our minds. We cannot conceive of any additional
test, the application of which would render our conviction
more certain on either of these points. We see these
thoughts to be necessarily true.
Third.- We observe the complete adaptation of our
minds for discerning this class of objects without the aid
of the physical organs of perception. These objects are
purely spiritual, and are beheld by our spirits directly.
In order that external or material objects shall be beheld
by us, images of them must be formed in consciousness,
through the medium of our senses. But we form images
of these spiritual objects in consciousness without such
aids. The following distinction appears to exist between ma
terial objects and these abstract objects. While in the case
of material objects the essential nature of each one is
shrouded in equal mystery, mystery appears to be pre-
dicable of abstract objects only when these are regarded
as parts of one whole. This whole is infinitely divisible.
The various individual objects, or abstract truths, when

84
regarded separately, are of widely different natures, and
are adapted to be apprehended by very different orders of
human intelligence or development. To the intelligence
perceiving it, each separate abstract truth is devoid of
mystery. The mind that comprehends any such truth
sees it in its universal and necessary character. Such a
mind can observe the practical applications of this thought
in the works of the Creator, and can itself intelligently
make practical applications of it in its own work.
We may observe here how close are our relations with
the infinite, and also how confused are the common ideas
of men respecting the real and the unreal. When we have
taught a child to comprehend that one and one make
two, which is the most simple abstract truth, we have
shown to it a changeless reality, that had no beginning
and can have no end, that is universal or omnipresent, and
that transcends both space and time ; a truth, moreover,
that exists as a reality, quite independent of any material
object to which it can be applied, or of any finite mind by
which it can be comprehended. And yet we do not apply
the term " real" to this and similar objects, but we reserve
this term for objects of sense, which change their forms,
and as such objects perish in a moment.
In our relations to what we call material objects, and
thus far also in our relations to objects of mental percep
tion, we observe a fact which, by necessary analogy, we
conclude to be universal. This fact is, that we are capa
ble of perceiving these objects only in a small degree, de
pendent on our own powers. In the former case we are
able, to a certain extent, to augment our perceptive powers
artificially ; and in the latter case the powers are capable
of different degrees of development in different indi
viduals. Thus, the limitation to the sights we can see, or the
sounds we can hear, is found in the limited sensibility of
our organs of sight and hearing. These organs are sensi
tive to the vibratious or pulsations of light and air only
within certain limits. Matter may become completely in
visible to us ; a fact of which air, water and glass, as well
as the disappearance of many substances in solution,
afford familiar examples. Perhaps the limitation of our

85
senses is most impressively shown when we come to em
ploy the the higher powers of the microscope. Objects
then appear merely as they would do if they were, in one
plane, just so much larger than they really are ; and not
the least progress is made towards a knowledge of the
constitution of matter. For illustration, we may magnify
a diatom, say, twenty-five hundred diameters, which
gives a superficial enlargement of more than six million
times, and the illumination of the object and the definition
of our instrument may be such, that the object is seen
with brilliant distinctness ; but, when viewed by reflected ;
light, the minute portion of the surface that is seen appears
as substantial as the surface of a shell in our cabinet. We
feel a sensation of awe, as we realize that infinity is before
us, that it is before us everywhere, and that all the opera
tions of nature are carried on in recesses, into which it is
not possible that, while in the body, our senses shall ever
penetrate. So, also, with respect to abstract thought, considered as
a whole. Our perception of this varies in degree, accord- ¦
ing the development of our perceptive powers in this di
rection. I understand, we will suppose, a little of geom
etry. I can see clearly enough that the three interior
angles of any possible triangle are equal to two right
angles. Many propositions equally simple are plain to me.
I perceive their necessary character. If, however, one
talks to me in the language of fluxions, he speaks in an
unknown tongue. No corresponding images present
themselves in my consciousness. But since the time of
Newton there have been discovered still higher methods ;
of mathematical analysis, which the mighty mind that
developed fluxions did not reach. It is well understood
that there is in reality no limit to the science of mathe
matics ; but that for us such a limit exists in the limited
power of our minds.
We conclude this paper with the following observa
tions :
First. Two modes of revelation have now been con
sidered, one through our physical senses, the other to the
spirit directly, without the employment of any media for
this purpose. These two modes of relevation are totally

86
distinct from each other. Each one is exactly adapted to
the nature of the objects that are revealed through it.
Both alike result in producing in consciousness distinct im
ages of the objects, so far as the revelation of them is
made to us.
Second. Acquaintance, in any degree, with the first of
these two classes of objects does not give the power to
affirm anything whatever respecting objects of the second
class. The attempt to do so would be regarded as an ab
surd presumption and impertinence. No one ever thought
of such a thing as to assume that his skill in perceiving
material things could give him a warrant for saying, or
for belies ing, that any abstract or spiritual object had no
existence because he could not see it.
Third. The complete reality of all things, whatever be
their nature, is something far beyond our power to com
prehend. In other words, whatever may be the mode in
which these realities are revealed to us, such revelation is
made only in a slight degree, a degree ample, indeed, for
all our possible uses, and ample also for the employment
of all our powers, but, in every case, bearing only a small
relation to the unrevealed reality.
Fourth. The perception or the realization of the partial
nature of this revelation comes to the mind gradually, as
it progresses in development. In every case this percep
tion is most clear to those whose acquaintance with the
particular subject is most profound.
None will question the correctness of these statements.
Each one of them is sufficiently obvious. The second one
especially may be regarded in the nature of an axiom.
Their importance will appear as we advance in our argu
ment. We shall have occasion to observe their applica
tion to subjects of the highest nature ; applications which,
when the universal character of these propositions comes
to be apprehended, the mind naturally, and indeed neces
sarily, makes.

87

MATERIALISM.

The subject of materialism lies here right in our way,
and demands attention before we advance to consider the
revelation of the spiritual realities of force, truth, love and
beauty. Materialism is the manifestation of the blindness
of physical science. It is, indeed, strongly resisted by
many scientific observers, in whom zeal and eminence in
the various paths of experimental research are found united
to deep spirituality. In spite, however, of the influence of
such minds, it can hardly be questioned that the present
prevailing tendency of scientific thought is materialistic.
There are several reasons why this is to be expected.
Materialism consists essentially in limiting the thought,
more or less closely, to the objects of sense that first arrest
the attention. Our relations with the physical creation
are so intimate, the changes that matter has undergone in
time past, and which it undergoes under our observation,
and under our own hands, are of such immediate and
practical importance, and the useful properties of its in
numerable forms are so varied, and so essential to our
wants, that attention is naturally first drawn to, and occu
pied by, these more obvious features, before it can pene
trate to the spiritual realities that are manifested through
them. Then, again, the study of the phenomena which nature
presents in its many scrolls, forever being unrolled, de
mands minute observation, and long-continued fixedness
of thought; and so the tendency of this study is, especially
at first, to render the mind indisposed, and in some cases
positively unable, to look with any concern above a field
which it sees to be so important and so boundless.
Undoubtedly the chief reason for the present abnormal
influence of scientific pursuits is their novelty. Physical
science is the birth of yesterday. We are in the midst of
its discoveries. The attitude of the scientific mind is to a
great degree that of the learner, absorbed in details, and
to whom as yet these details are everything.

'!'';ii :

88
So it results that the legitimate spiritual influence of
the physical creation is often felt the least by those who
are especially devoted to its study. On the one hand, the
tendency of all such investigations is to cultivate a devo
tion to truth for its own sake, to develop a spirit of dispas
sionate inquiry and conscientious fidelity, and to form
habits of close discrimination. But, on the other hand,
the necessity for following nature into deeper and deeper
recesses exercises the mind in considering the minute
rather than the great, the particular rather than the uni
versal, in analyzing rather than in combining, and tends
to fix the attention upon what appear to it as material
things, which address the mind through the physical
organs of sense, and which can be measured and weighed, ]
as if these were themselves the ultimate subjects of
thought. Thus there comes to be shown by many devotees of
physical science a remarkable willingness to grind in the
prison house of phenomena, and a disposition to ignore, as
subjects for scientific inquiry, the spiritual realities that
are manifested through all physical forms of being, and
also the spiritual perception through which those realities
are made known to us.
Respecting the essential nature of what we call matter,
we are wholly ignorant. Taking its forms, as these are
presented to our senses, we have resolved combination
after combination, until our means of analysis have failed;
and in this way we have arrived at what we term "ele
ments." Observing the reverse of this process, as it goes
on in nature, we find these supposed elements combining
with one another in invariable modes, and then we see the
compounds thus formed combining with each other, or
separating, so that their constituents may enter into dif
ferent combinations; all in obedience to forces which are
revealed only in these effects. Thus there is presented to
us a wide diversity of forms and properties of matter,!
within what we call the inorganic creation.
Then, under the power of another class of forces, more
mysterious still, we see these elements and their com
pounds entering into new combinations of a far more
complicated nature, and in these combinations exhibiting

89
forms and properties far more varied and remarkable.
Now there appear organisms, activities which come within
the reach of our observation, growth and reproduction,
followed, after a longer or a shorter; period, by decomposi
tion and a return to inorganic forms of being.
In this stage we witness the united and concurrent
action of all physical agencies, as light, including rays
that do not affect our visual organs, heat, the gases which
compose and which are contained in the atmosphere,
water, and mineral forms of matter, each one performing
its necessary function, and all harmoniously cooperating,
in the work of clothing the earth with the varied forms of
vegetable life.
And now there is seen a greater wonder. When matter
has reached these higher combinations, and has become
organized under the action of the vegetative forces, then, ,
and not until then, it becomes endowed with the power to
sustain animal life ; and in its more highly organized
forms, as, for example, the fruit and not the wood, the
grain and not the stalk, the flesh and not bone or hide, it
is adapted to support the life of man.
In thus sustaining animal existence, matter yields
obedience to a still higher class of forces, and enters into
additional combinations of a still more complicated nature,
and organisms of a different and higher character appear.
Now there come forth beings, with consciousness and fac
ulties and purposes and charactBr.
As in vegetable life, so here also, the submission that
matter yields to the higher forces is only temporary, and
a constant tendency appears to return to inorganic forms.
In animal life we witness again the successive phenomena
of growth and decay of the individual, while the species is
perpetuated by reproduction.
It is to be observed that in animate being there are man
ifested two distinct orders of force. The first of these con
sists of the merely vital forces, which act to sustain animal
existence, independently of volition or even of conscious
ness. The second class comprises the conscious and volun
tary activities wmich supervene to the merely animal ex
istence. The latter forces are of a nature higher than the
former, as those are higher than the vegetative forces, and

90
as those in turn are higher than the forces that are mani
fested in inorganic being. Thus we have presented to us
four distinct classes or orders of force, which together
constitute a series, ascending by high and abrupt steps.
But all alike manifest themselves only through matter.
And, so far as we are yet able to discover, the same ele
ments reside in each of the forms of being, and constitute
the ruck, and the tree, and the bird, and man endowed
with intelligence to observe them all.
One would expect that, surrounded by these wonders,
himself the crowning wonder of all, man would be pro
foundly impressed with a sense of the superficial character
of the little that he can know , and of the infinite depth of
that knowledge which is hidden from him. Upon many
minds, indeed, this effect is produced in different degrees,
but it is remarkable how many thinking men exhibit an
inclination, more or less decided, to rest satisfied with that
which they imagine they can understand, and with re
peating the very words they have been taught, and to make
these the boundary of their thought. Inquire of such a per
son, for example, respecting that mystery, the cause that
determines the colors of bodies, and he will explain to you,
as it has been explained to him, that each body absorbs
the other rays of light, and reflects only rays of the color
which it appears to have. His own questioning is satis
fied, and so he supposes that he has told all about it.
The atomic theory constitutes the present bulwark of
materialism. This theory, proposed by Dr. Dalton, in the
early part of the present century, as explanatory of chem
ical action, was the work of a comprehensive mind, and
was a great step in advance of the previous chaotic condi- -
tion of science. It has accounted, or has appeared to do
so, for all observed phenomena.
As held at the present day, it is. briefly, that each one
of the assumed elemental forms of matter consists of ma
terial atoms, of definite forms and dimensions, indestruc
tible and indivisible, and that these atoms are separated
from each other, even in the most dense substances, by
mensurable distances, which are fixed by an equilibrium
of attracting and repelling forces'; that between the atoms
of many different substances there exist attractions, vary-

91
ing greatly in degree, but which are always the same be
tween the atoms of the same two elements ; that when
the atoms of different elements are brought together,
under conditions favorable to their union, these atoms
exercise selection and choice, and those which have the
strongest affinity for each other unite in definite propor
tions, and so form what are termed molecules, which in
their aggregation appear as compound substances ; and
finally, that these molecules also combine with one another
in endlessly varied ways, and that by these combinations
of atoms and molecules the whole inorganic and organic
creation is constituted.
The atoms must be exceedingly minute, so minute,
indeed, that even those molecules which comprise the
greatest number of atoms, as, for example, those which
constitute the most highly organized forms of matter, are
themselves so small, as to be, not merely beyond the
power of the microscope to discover them, but beyond its
power to make any sensible progress toward their dis
covery. The atoms were at one time described as being infinitely
small, whatever that might mean. Latterly some definite-
ness has been attempted respecting their dimensions. For
example, the smallest drop of water that can be dis
tinguished in the microscope is about -g-trVmr or" an mcn m
diameter, and it is said that each one of these drops of
water contains about 8,000 millions of molecules. The
molecules are believed, moreover, to be small relatively to
the spaces which separate them, and in these spaces to be
in a state of ceaseless vibration. These vibrations are
considered to be the cause of the phenomenon which we
term heat. It is supposed that the force or amplitude of
the vibrations, determines the degree of heat, and that the
complete cessation of them would be the absolute cold.
These are the leading features of this celebrated theory.
The manner in which it seems to account for the phenom
ena of heat, both sensible and latent, has been regarded as
affording strong confirmation of its truth.
Our advance in knowledge is, of necessity, made one
step at a time. These steps must often be separated by
long intervals, and each one, when taken, naturally ap-

92
pears to many minds to be the last. The atomic theory
was a great step, and the philosophic mind has rested
upon it for a time proportionately long. But the world is
now prepared for another step. This theory does not get
beyond mechanical divisibility. It encourages, and prob
ably grew out of, the disposition to contemplate the atom
rather than the force. In the material atom it fixes a
point of beginning, which, though far removed from our
sight, is quite within our comprehension, for we made it.
An amusing- illustration of the limitation of philosophic
thought to the material atom, and of the satisfaction
which our education enables us to derive from what is in
reality utterly unsatisfying, is afforded in those numerous
cases, in which the same element or compound constitutes
two or more substances, which have entirely different!
characters. Chemists tell us that in these different sub
stances the atoms or the molecules are differently arranged^
so as to constitute geometric figures of different forms,
and they really suppose they have explained the whole
matter. It is obvious, that on the assumed data of ma
terial atoms, and of the formation of all substances by the
assembling together of these atoms, or of the molecules
formed by their union, this is the only thing there is to bej
said ; and it is equally obvious that this bold guess work
affords no explanation at all, and that these phenomena
point to something beyond the limits of our present;
knowledge, as their cause.
All analogies are opposed to the doctrine of material:
atoms Let us first apply to this doctrine the analogies
that are furnished by mechanical science. This science
teaches us to look with extreme distrust upon anything
that is the creation of our own minds. Whenever, in the!
process of mechanical development, our conceptions are
brought to the test of actual experiment and observation^
we have seen that they are- almost invariably shown to bS
illusions. In almost every case, we find that we had not
reached the bottom of the subject. The history of mechani|
cal progress is a history of surprises and disenchantment.
This experience in mechanics is so nearly a uniform one|
that the engineer is compelled to reason in this way with]
respect to the notion of material atoms : "Is this a con*]

93
ception formed respecting that which lies wholly beyond
the reach of our observation ? Yes. Then there is no
reasonable probability that it can be true. Unknown con
ditions are sure to exist, and these, if known, would almost
certainly show the conception to be an idle one."
We are in fact mere tyros in knowledge. How absurd
then to suppose that we can form a correct conception of
the ultimate condition of what we call matter. In every
research, we soon arrive at a point where our powers fail.
It is a general observation that, as the path of knowledge
widens it grows fainter also, until it becomes lost in mys
tery unfathomable.
Chemists have found sixty-three substances that they can
not resolve, and so of course they have concluded that these
cannot be resolved, but are the elemental forms of matter,
constituting a good solid foundation of all things, a sub
stantial starting point in the search after physical truth.
One cannot help being reminded of Fahrenheit, who
first constructed a mercury thermometer, about one hun
dred and fifty years ago, and who, as is supposed, himself
believed, and at any rate induced scientific men of that
day to accept the idea, that he had found the absolute
cold, which point he named zero. This fitly illustrates the
absurdity of assuming as absolute points which really
mark nothing except the present limitation of our knowl
edge. ,
There is in truth no warrant at all for the belief that we
have arrived at any primal element. It is unphilosophical
to suppose that the process of combination, which we be
hold extended to such extreme complexity, wTith the man
ifestation at each successive step of properties more and
more astonishing, actually begins at a definite point which
we have asn pertained, and that the ultimate forms of all
things are thus brought within our comprehension.
In fact the philosophic mind is already showing signs of
outgrowing this belief . We seem likely to pass through
this to a higher stage of knowledge before very long. In
quirers are beginning to search after the unit atom, with
a strong probability that the inquiry will lead, as many
an one has done before, to results of a nature quite unex
pected. The resolution of any supposed principal element

94
would be a blow to the atomic theory; not that the belief
in material atoms could not be ex I ended so as to embrace
such new conditions, but the confidence of philosophers
in all such assumptions would be lost, as unquestionably
it ought to be.
We have considered the existence of the atom, or ulti
mate indivisible unit of matter, to be an assumption. It
is, however, rather a conclusion from another assumption.
This latter assumption is, that force can be exerted only
between bodies. Men had observed that the earth attracts
falling bodies, that the magnet attracts particles of iron,
and that the non-conductor, when electrically excited, at
tracts or repels the feather, and, they naturally extended
this idea, so as to embrace a similar action far removed
from their sight. They assumed that there also something
must exist, to attract and to be attracted. This analogy '
is still clung to, and men profess* to be satisfied with it, al
though it is obvious, that the phenomena which are pre
sented in chemical action are only suggested in the most
general wTay by attractions that act through sensible dis
tances. With respect to this subject, it is to be observed, that
three phenomena are known, namely, force, choice, which
is termed by chemists elective affinity, and uniformity of
action. To these there must be added the properties that :
are exhibited by the supposed elemental forms of matter,
and by their various combinations. These properties,
which vary with each elemental or compound substance,
are evidently intended. They are in all cases essential to
subsequent effects produced, each one contributes to
some ultimate result. They cannot, therefore, be con
ceived to be accidental. Only one alternative remains.
They indicate a purpose.
Four realities, then, certainly exist. These are force,
choice, uniformity of action, and a purpose that directs
every act. The first three of these reveal themselves di
rectly. Indeed they are assumed in the argument for the
existence of the atom. The last one we have seen to be
manifested no less certainly. Now these four realities are
not only certain ; they are also sufficient. The material
atom is superfluous. Faraday's definition of the atom,

95
as a point of force, has the merit of not assuming the
creation of our own fancy to be a reality. The fact that
we are not able to form a definite conception of a point of
force increases the probability that the expression may
contain the truth.
The belief in the existence of the material atom has, in
fact, no other basis than our education and habit of
thought, or rather, our habit of not thinking. This belief
is pretty strongly intrenched in authority. The general
idea of atoms, as self-existent entities, is derived from
heathen philosophy, and mankind have been more or less
familiar with it for twenty-three hundred years. Science,
however, pays no regard to human authority, and if this
be disregarded, the case stands thus : In the behavior of
what we call matter, we observe only force, choice, uni
formity of action and purpose. These four realities are
established by conclusive evidence. They are manifested
through all material forms of being. From them men
deduce diametrically opposite conclusions. They are
viewed by each mind in the light that is determined by the
general direction of its own thought.
On the one hand, the materialist, who insists upon
limiting his thought, as closely as possible, to that which
is immediately disclosed to him through his physical or
gans of perception, and which he tries to believe that he
can understand, carries on his subdivision of matter to
the atom. Here he rests. This imaginary thing becomes ;
for him the ultimate and the only reality. Force, choice
and uniformity of action, all which he admits, are viewed |
by him merely as incidents of the atom. These realities,
which even to his own mind are fully established, yet,
simply because they cannot in their nature be seen and
handled, be measured or weighed, are regarded by him as ,
only incidental to that, of the existence of which he has
no evidence at all, which he only imagines to exist. Pur
pose is something that the materialist finds it difficult to
attribute to the atom, and so he shuts his eyes to it. He
can see properties of matters. He is compelled, moreover,
to admit that all physical results are dependent upon the
possession by different forms of matter of these distin- |
guishing properties. But he can't see any purpose; and <

96
this for no reason except that he cannot attribute purpose
to the atom.
Singularly enough, while the attention of physicists has
been fixed on material atoms so long, that it has come to
be all the same as if they saw them, while atoms are as
real to them as watches are to Africans, these are in reality
an impertinence in the atomic theory itself, as far as this
theory is scientific. The only fact that is established by-
observation is, that substances combine with one another
in multiple proportions. All beyond this is guess-work,
or the opposite of science. It must in fairness be stated,
that this is all that it is claimed to be. We have the law
of multiple proportions, and on this law is based thetheory
of atoms.
So much for the attitude of the materialist. On the
other hand, those inquirers wTho in observing employ also
their spiritual apprehension, whose perceptions are not
limited to sensible forms, but who are able also to see the
spiritual realities that are contained within and are mani
fested through these forms, those minds perceive, clearly
enough, that we cannot rationally conceive of force, or of
choice, or of uniformity of action, any more than we can
conceive of purpose, as anything less than attributes of a
Being. They reason from their own consciousness. Re
specting purpose and choice, they see at once that these
are equally functions of mind ; and that neither one, and
one no more than the other, can be conceived to be a prop
erty of matter. Uniformity of action is seen by them to
be nothing less than uniformity of purpose, joined with
absolute power of accomplishment. Force, when exerted
by ourselves, is the expression of our wills ; and so the
only conception of force in nature that can be formed by
such minds is, that it is the manifestation of a will.
As, therefore, the phenomena of nature are contemplat--
ed by minds which are capable of this spiritual insight,
the demonstrated truth appears of the presence and activ
ity of an infinite and changeless Being. All that is ob
servable by them are the attributes of such a Being.
There is no point at which such minds can rest, at which
their questionings can find intelligible answers, until they
rest in the conception of such a personal Being.

97
The development of the mind, to whose illumined sight
all this becomes obvious, will be considered in a subse
quent paper, when this subject shall be reached in the
orderly sequence of our thought. Such a spiritual insight
is, however, assumed to be possessed by the reader, at least
in some degree, in the remarks with which this paper will
be concluded.
The theory of atoms has been a real help, in the prog
ress of the human mind towards its full development.
This theory has served as the necessary step, by which men
shall mount, from the gross idea of matter, as these are
at first conveyed to the mind by the senses, up to the posi
tion from which they can reach forward to the truth. By
the contemplation of these imaginary things, far removed
from our sight, we have become, or are becoming, gradu
ally prepared for the reception of the awe-inspiring truth,
of what has not inaptly been termed " the divine imma
nency,'' or the infinite mode of the divine omnipresence.
This truth requires for its complete apprehension only
the full development of that spiritual perception, which,
however unconsciously, we begin to employ in the appre
hension of force. This same spiritual apprehension will
enable us to see, that the universe of what we call matter
is the infinitely varied manifestation, not of force only,
but of all spiritual realities, in their unity, and of the In
finite Being in whom these inhere ; and that the creation
has its chief value and significance for us as such mani
festation. True science cannot impose a limit to thought, nor toler
ate any impediment to its progress. The folio-wing propo
sitions must become the axioms of liberated science :
All spiritual realities are fully revealed to man ;
This revelation is made in every manner that is best
adapted to the supply of his physical and his spiritual
wants, and to' the development of his physical and his
spiritual natures ;
An equal apprehension of all spiritual realities is essen
tial to a correct conception even of physical truth.
Of these spiritual realities, force is the one that first
compels our attention, but all alike are the attributes and
the manifestations of a personal God.

i: '-

9S
In the educational work that shall prepare the mind for
the reception of this true philosophy, mechanical science
must bear a leading part. In other branches of physics,
students may allow their minds to dwell on the fiction
of material atoms, and may even regard these as ultimate
subjects of thought. But mechanical science leads the
mind directly to force. Mechanics is the first of the
sciences to arrive at the distinct recognition of this mani
festation of the universal presence; and it must operate
powerfully to make, not force merely, but the other
spiritual realities, which we shall see to be intimately
associated with force, controlling elements in determining
the future direction of thought.
Confining our attention for the present to force, we per
ceive at once that it is necessary that the forces which we
are intended to employ shall be manifested to us in ways
that shall enable us to employ them. Now from the very
constitution of our nature we could know nothing about
any forces, except through just such concrete embodi
ments of them as those which have actually been given to
us. The inconceivably varied ways in which forces are
manifested are all adapted to our nature, and to the service
of our wills and the accomplishment of our purposes.
The adaptation of man and these manifestations of force
to each other is mutual and complete.
If only we are able to overcome the influence of false
education, and the habit of using expressions ready made
in the place of thoughts, we shall find it quite as easy to
conceive all bodies to be, what undoubtedly they really
are, manifestations of force, in modes adapted to our con
stitution and wants, as it is to conceive them to be
aggregations of invisible atoms held together by force.
The real nature of all things with which we are so
familiar is certainly wrapped in profoundest mystery.
When, however, we extend our view, by the method
hereafter to be presented, it will become apparent that
force is only one of the spiritual realities by which we are
environed. It is believed that it is not too much to say
that the universe, as it is now shown to us, presents the
complete manifestation of all spiritual realities, or the full
revelation of the Infinite Being. This may at first appear

99
to be an over statement, but I am inclined to think that
it is the true one, and that there are considerations, which
if due weight be given to them, will be conclusive of its
truth. If the revelation of God be made in the creation at all,
it seems inconceivable that it should be partially, incom
pletely or imperfectly made. The divine nature must be
a unit, a whole, incapable of division in its expression;
so that, if God is revealed in the creation at all, it seems
a necessary conclusion that, in reality, in point of fact, he
must be completely revealed.
But not to us. Alas ! not to us. The knowledge of
God that ive derive from this revelation, or the degree of
this revelation to us, must of necessity, be limited by the
capacity of each individual to receive it. A limit to our
perception is formed by the imperfect development of a
nature like to the nature of God, by which only such
revelation could be fully apprehended. Our natures may
be in a condition completely abnormal, so as to repel this
revelation instead of admitting it in even the least degree.
From this state up to that receptive condition of the soul
to which the presence of God in the universe could be im
parted fully, or in an infinite degree, the change must be
one entirely in our own nature, and not in the least a
change in the revelation itself.
In accordance with the universal law of spiritual per
ception, by which like is possible to be revealed only to
like, we are able to perceive the being of God, and his
presence in the universe, only in that degree in which our
natures become like to his own. Here is found the natu
ral explanation of the fact to which attention was called in
an earlier paper, that, of the various manifestations of the
divine presence that are made in the creation, men are
ready enough to recognize those which they can conceive
of independently, and not as such manifestations of God;
while mnltitudes remain insensible to those other mani
festations of his presence which, in point of fact, are
equally obvious and equally universal, as well as equally
necessary to us, our association with which is just as close
and our dependence upon which is just as absolute, but
which, by the exercise of all our ingenuity, we cannot

100
separate from the idea of a personal and omnipotent
Deity. Between these two classes of manifestations of the in
finite Being, namely, those which can be dissociated from
him in our thought, and those which cannot be so sepa
rated from him, science, in the present stage of its growth,
has assumed to draw a line, and liniits its view exclusively
to force.
Our subject, however, has only its beginning here. We
shall enter the door that mechanical science opens so
widely, and within which lies the whole realm of truth in
its unity.
In presenting the views above expressed, it has been!
necessary, in some degree, to anticipate conclusions which
will be reached in subsequent papers. This is to be re
gretted, but it seemed unavoidable. If the reader now
has difficulty in yielding assent to some expressions, I
hope as he proceeds he may find that those difficulties
disappear.

101

THE REVELATION OF FORCE.

The subject of force as it is revealed in its effects, or of
the effects of force, has already been considered. With
the effects of force physical science is concerned, but not
with the nature of force itself. Science defines force to be
something that produces or tends to produce motion. It
does not inquire what this something is. This is a ques
tion about which it feels no interest. The inquiries of
science are directed entirely to the forms and degrees of
the manifestations of force.
But there are other questions respecting force that are
to be asked and answered. The first of these questions is:
How do we get our notion or idea of force ? We see, for
example, water lifted and water falling ; we see vehicles
and cars and boats put in motion, and kept in motion, by
animals, by the wind and by steam; and with these phe
nomena, as well as with many others, we associate in our
minds the idea of force being exerted. How do we get
this idea ?
Our conception of force is derived from our own con
sciousness. I am conscious of the exertion of force my
self, in one and another of a great number of ways. I
observe the effect, in imparting motion to some object,
that is evidently produced by each of these exertions of
force, and which effect it was, in each case, my intention
to produce by such exertion.
I am conscious, also, of resistances which are, in differ
ent degrees, opposed by these objects to my exertions of
force; and which render it necessary for me to exert my
force in corresponding degrees, in order to overcome them,
and produce the motions that I wish to impart to the
objects. Then I observe around me effects being produced, in im
parting motion to bodies, that are similar to those effects
that I produce by the exertion of my own force. When
contemplating these effects I am conscious of sensations

102
similar to those that I experience when exerting force my
self. Especially if these effects are the same, both in kind
and degree, as those that I have produced, the identity of
the sensation is very noticeable.
For example, by working the handle of a pump I am
able, with a certain exertion of force, to lift a column of
water with a given velocity from a given depth. I see
another person doing the same thing. Of course, I at
once recognize the fact that he is making the same effort
that I was making. Then I see the same thing being done
by a windmill, or by animal power, or by a little air engine,
or steam engine. In either case, by the same association,
and by an equal necessity, I recognize the fact that a force
io being exerted by the wind, or the animal, or the heated
air, or the steam, identical with that which I had exerted
myself. For another example : I am taught that the atmosphere
exerts a pressure of about 14. 7 lbs. on each square inch of
the surface of every object that is immersed in it. But if I
try myself to lift a partially exhausted receiver I get an
impression of this fact far more vivid than any words
could give to me. I compare this pressure with other
resistances which I am accustomed to overcome by my
own exertion of force.
These illustrations are sufficient to show the fact, that
our perception of force is an act of recognition. We
observe an effect, and we feel the same sensation that we
felt when we have produced a similar effect ourselves ; and
so we recognize the same force as being exerted. It fol
lows, that a person not capable of exerting force, or who
had in fact never made such exertion, would not be able
to form an idea of force. This is undoubtedly true. One,
for example, who had never lifted anything could not form
a conception of weight. No conception of weight, or of
the exertion of force to overcome it, has, by our suppo
sition, ever been formed in his consciousness that could be
recalled or revived by any effect observed. He would not
recognize the exertion of force, and would be entirely
unconscious of either force or resistance. His perception
would be wholly limited to the motion that he sees. This
is, in fact, continually the case with every one. Few per-

10a
sons, for example, can form any notion from the move
ments of a steam engine, whether any force is being
exerted through it or not. This cannot even be known by
an expert, unless he observes some particular part of the
engine where to his eye the amount of power transmitted
is indicated.
In this manner, then, we form our primary conception
of force. We conceive of it as an effort, applied to over
come a resistance, or an opposing force ; such as we are
conscious of making ourselves. But for this sensation in
consciousness, corresponding with that which we have felt
when we have put forth the exertion of force ourselves,
and which sensation is revived or reproduced when we
witness similar effects, we could have no idea of force, as
exerted by other men, by animals, or by any natural
agencies, nor of the resistances which these forces are ex
erted to overcome. Enveloped in a universe of forces, a
being who had never himself made a conscious exertion of
force could form no notion of them, and could have no
knowledge of their existence.
This determination of the mode of our perception of
force is one of primary importance. This is the invariable
mode of spiritual perception. We shall find that all other
spiritual realities are, like force, perceived by recognition,
and that we are dead to the existence of those of which
we are not ourselves capable.
It was observed respecting the" perception of sensible
objects and also of abstract truths, that the modes of these
perceptions were precisely adapted to the natures of the
objects revealed, that in each case the mode of revelation
employed was the only mode in which the revelation of
the class of objects could be made to us, and that this
mode of revelation was conclusive, to the mind that was
prepared to receive it, of the reality of the object revealed,
and also of the correctness of its apprehension of it.
Attention is now called to the fact that the same thing
is true of the revelation of force to us by recognition.
This is obviously the only way in which we could receive
this revelation, and it is conclusive to our minds. No
doubt as to the reality of force, or the correctness of our
notion of it, ever occurs, or ever can occur, to any one.

104
We note further that, precisely as it would be absurd for
one who could not form in his mind an image or concep
tion of an abstract truth to deny its existence, so it would
be as manifestly absurd for one who had no conscious ex
perience of the exertion of force to deny the existence of
force. Our first question, how do we get our notion or idea of
force, is now answered, and we pass to the second question :
What is force ? This is a question of a still more serious
nature, but it is one that admits of a definite and certain
answer. Force constitutes one of the quaternion of spiritual reali
ties. Truth, Love and Beauty form the remaining sides
of the four-square city. Force is, however, distinguished
from truth, love and beauty in two respects. First, it has
no opposite, and so has in itself no moral quality. Second,
while each of these realities is capable of degrees of mani
festation, force is the only one, the degrees of which are
comparable and mensurable with precision by man. We
are conscious of different amounts or degrees of
force, as exerted by ourselves. Starting from these, we
are able, by mere multiplication or division, to express
force in amounts which, on the one hand, are exceedingly
minute, and, on the other hand, surpass our own powers to
any extent whatever, and we are able to state and, within
moderate limits, to exhibit, these relative degrees of force
with exactness.
Forming our idea of force in the manner above de
scribed, and which is obviously the only possible manner,
we cannot, except by violence, dissociate in our minds the
conception of force from the conception of a being, by
whom the force is exerted, and whose purpose is accom
plished in its exertion. Of this being the force must be
one form of manifestation, every exertion of it must be a
direct expression of his nature. This we are conscious is
the case in every exertion of force that is made by our
selves, and we see it to be the case in every exertion of
force that is made by other men and by animals. There I
is no exertion of force by men or animals that we do not ;
recognize to be the manifestation of spiritual qualities, of
a disposition.

105
Concerning force as exerted by ourselves, we observe
that it is not self-active, nor self-directed. It acts indif
ferently in any direction, for the accomplishment of any
purpose, and as the manifestation of any disposition. In
order that it shall be exerted at all, there must exist a
mind, having a purpose to be accomplished, and a dispo
sition to be manifested.
It is customary to say that force, as exerted by our
selves, is directed by the will, and there to stop, as if a full
explanation had been given. When, however, we look
closely to find out what is meant by this expression, we
find that it does not mean anything. If we search to dis
cover how much progress we have made towards learning;
what it is that calls our force into exercise, and determines'
the direction in which it shall be exerted, we cannot find
that we have made any progress. If we have done any
thing more than to substitute in the place of force
another word that, so far as this inquiry is concerned,
means the same thing, it will be found a very difficult
matter to show what this is.
The will is just as indifferent as force. It needs to be
called into activity, and to have the direction of its activ
ity determined, precisely as force does. Indeed, force, as
exerted by man, is nothing but the expression of his will
through physical media. Just as man receives his knowl
edge of the outer world through his physical senses, so he
impresses his will upon the outer world primarily through
his physical strength. In the case of a being who does not
act through physical media, will and force certainly may
be, and so far as we can see they must be, one and the
same thing. We have thus far merely found and identi
fied, in the will, the spiritual form of force.
We must go back of the will, and inquire what it is
that calls the will itself into activity, and determines the
mode and direction of its activity. What is it that con
trols and guides our conduct ? It will be answered:. Our
conduct is determined by the purpose that we have formed.
Still only words. Purpose is only another form of ex
pression, that means the same thing. What has deter- '
mined our purpose ? Why have we formed this purpose,
rather than the opposite purpose ?

106
We are now driven back to the real and only spring of
all our activity, when this activity is exercised freely. We
have reached the ego, the very I. We have found that
which determines all conduct, and constitutes all charac
ter. We have arrived at the affections, at the emotional
nature, which is, indeed, the whole nature of every being.
Here we find the motive, the self-active, and self -directed
powder. We have penetrated to the engine room, and
have found what it is that makes everything go. Here
at last is the reality, the free emotional nature is force.
All that this word has been employed to signify, and to
which the application of it is commonly limited, are only
those external manifestations or exertions of force which
are observable by us through our senses. The self -active
emotional spirit is the force itself. It will be found that
there is no voluntary exertion of force, for which we are
not obliged to go back to our emotional nature, in order
to find its primary and essential cause or motive.
It is thus rendered obvious, that the conception of force
in nature which dissociates it from the idea a Being is
wrong. This conception is just what it claims to be, that
is, no conception at all. It merely declares force to be
something, known only in its effects. If any definite or in
telligible idea of force in nature is to be found, it must be,
that it is the manifestation of the nature of a Being. We
repeat the appeal to our own consciousness. We are com
pelled to say, that force when exerted by Ourselves is the
outward expression of the real force within us, which is
found in our affections. These are the ultimate and real
spring of every free conscious act. Then the only concep
tion that we can form of force in nature, and the concep
tion that we must form of it, unless we refuse to form any
at all, is, that this force, in all its varied forms, is the ex
pression of the nature of an Infinite Being.
But our analogy carries us further than this. Our own
affections cannot have for their object any form of what
we term matter. This spring of our activity is never ani
mated by matter. Something beyond matter determines
every exertion of force by ourselves. Matter may often
be very closely associated with this outward manifestation ;
of our spiritual activity, but it is always employed only as

107
a means, never as an end in itself. The real object which
calls our spiritual force into exercise, and so determines
the outward expression of it, is always a being, either our-
self or another. Our own activity always terminates on a
being, and every free conscious act is performed with im
mediate or ultimate reference to a being, but for which
being there would be no impulse to its performance, and it
would not be performed.
We are obliged to complete our conception of force in
nature in the same manner, and to regard it not merely as
the expression of the nature of an Infinite Being, but,
moreover, as the expression of such a nature with refer
ence either to itself or to other beings. And this is con
duct. The fundamental importance of this truth is per
ceived at once. It changes the impersonal view of force
in nature into a personal conception.
I shall not here enter further into this subject, but in
subsequent papers shall endeavor to approach the same
great centre from other directions.
At the commencement of the Civil War in America, the
causes of it were discussed in England in essays and ad
dresses, in which allusion to the institution of slavery was
carefully avoided. These discussions were humorously
and happily likened to the play of Hamlet with the part
of Hamlet left out. So physical science, with its object
ive methods, like a child whose thought does not get be
yond what it can see and handle, endeavors to compre
hend creation with the Creator left out. Science is, how
ever, compelled to admit the existence of one reality, that
is not revealed to us through our physical organs of per
ception. Having arbitrarily severed force from its neces
sary connection with a Being, science is obliged to admit
that it cannot form any conception of it at all.
It is interesting to observe, how the very occupation, to
which the materialist endeavors to confine himself, of
weighing matter, of the existence of which only he is cer
tain, which he can see and handle, is after all nothing else
than comparing the degrees of this first spiritual reality—
of what is to him the mystery of force.

108

THE UNITY OF PHYSICAL AND
SPIRITUAL TRUTH.
Thus far mechanics has been considered as the science
of force. It is more than this. It is also the science of
truth. We have seen its power to free the mind from all
forms of authority over thought and belief, and td lead the
inquirer after truth directly to its source. We have now to
observe its influence in a somewhat different respect. It
will be shown to render valuable aid, perhaps it should be
regarded as indispensable aid, towards the true and healthy
development of our spiritual being. It does this by dis
closing the essential unity of physical and spiritual truth,
and rendering it obvious that truth in its unity can be ap
prehended correctly only by the spirit in its unity.
In introducing the subject of truth, it will be desirable
to anticipate, in this single respect, the general subject of a
subsequent paper, by calling attention here to the harmony
that appears between the physical and the verbal forms of
revelation, in this particular of truth.
The law of truth stands written in the human conscience,
but the consistent observance of it is beyond the reach of
human nature. This law has been inculcated by all sages,
and it underlies the legislation of every age and everv race.
It commands the involuntary homage of man. But, prac
tically, how fearful is the disregard of it.
One great need of the human race is a high and un
changeable standard of truth. The want of the influence
of such a standard, rising before men in the midst of the
daily affairs of life, inherent in the associations by which
they are surrounded, and constantly presented to their
gaze, is painfully apparent, not only in the history, but
also in the present life, of our race. The difficulty does
not lie in the actual want of such a standard. It does not
lie in the want of more than one such standards, fully meet
ing the above described requirements, and in complete har
mony with each other. It lies in the fact that these stand
ards have not been regarded by men. The human spirit
has not been opened to their influence.

109
First. The Bible unites with conscience, in erecting the
standard of absolute, transparent, uncompromising truth.
It is of the highest consequence, as well as interest, to ob
serve that, while the several books of the Bible were writ
ten at intervals, extending certainly ovor more than fifteen
hundred years, and by men of great diversity of character,
under a great variety of circumstances, and in every differ
ent form of composition, this fundamental unity of truth,
associated with other unities of a remarkable nature, runs
through it from the beginning to the end. Everywhere
simple downright truth is demanded, and that in terms ex
pressing the most exalted conception of it, as the founda
tion of character, on which alone it is possible for the struct
ure of spiritual life to be erected; as the fundamental ele
ment of the harmony, which, in the normal condition of
the human soul, would exist between it and the divine
author of its being, whose first attribute is declared to be
truth that endureth to all generations.
Second. We are now to observe how the physical modes
of revelation, the nature of things by which we are en
vironed, harmonize with the Bible in this respect, and
especially how mechanical science helps us to perceive
and realize this harmony.
If we analyze our conception of tr.uth in moral beings, we
shall find that this conception involves two wholly distinct
ideas. The primary or underlying idea is that of uniform
ity of action or conduct. We always know what the abso
lutely truthful man will do under any given circumstances.
There can be no doubt or uncertainty about it. We know
what to rely upon. This is the first idea. The second is
the idea of justice. This man will do exactly what is right,
as he views the right. Here the element of human falli
bility comes in. He may be mistaken in his view, but what
he holds to be right, that he will do. His conduct will be
guided by the highest and best motives of which he is ca
pable. This is our conception of truth in moral beings.
First, uniformity of action; second, justice in action.
Let us at first confine our attention to the primary or
fundamental idea of truth, which is, uniformity of action.

110
In this respect at least, one who comes to engage in the
study of mechanical science finds that he has entered the
region of eternal truth. Here nothing can by any possi
bility deceive or mislead or fail him. He can rest with ab
solute certainty in the confidence that, precisely as force is
seen by him to act to-day, so, under the same conditions, it
always has acted, and invariably and forever will act. This
is a fact of unspeakable consequence. Not the student of
engineering alone, but the whole race of man, in all its re
lations and employments, relies implicitly upon uniformity
of action in nature. This reliance constitutes the founda
tion of the peace, and the encouragement to the activity,
of every- creature. Thus we find the primary idea of uni
formity of action, that idea which underlies our conception
of truth in moral beings, exhibited in its complete and ab
solute realization everywhere in nature.
It is difficult to conceive even of mere uniformity of
action without a moral purpose of some character, either
good or bad, beneficent or injurious, loving or hateful,
kind or unkind. That is to say, it is difficult to conceive
of action without an actor. Or rather, it would be diffi
cult to form such a conception, if we had not from our in
fancy been carefully educated to do it. Materialistic sci
ence has taken our education in hand, and has seen to it
that we should be taught, in observing this uniformity
of action in nature, to form an absolutely impersonal con
ception of it. We are brought up on the laws of nature.
Truth in nature we are taught to regard as uniformity of
action, secured by obedience to law. All idea of a Being,
or of a moral quality in any act seen in nature, is care
fully excluded from the mind. Curiously enough, the
very uniformity of action, which is the fundamental ele
ment of moral truth, which is the first thing we have to
look for in the conduct of a perfect moral Being, the ab
sence of which would prove at once the non-existence
of such a Being, this very uniformity of action is itself
made use of to hide him from our sight.
But in reality, nature presents to us the moral element
and the Infinite Being in the clearest manner. It exhibits
everywhere, not a partial, but the completest idea of
truth. It shows us, not uniformity of action merely, but

Ill
also the purpose by which this action is directed. If we
take a comprehensive survey of the subject we can hardly
fail to perceive everywhere this consistent and most obvi
ous purpose. We shall see force in nature to be directed
to a single ultimate end, and to be wholly beneficent. In
this single beneficent end the infinite diversity of its mani
festations have their unity.
Let us commence our survey with the earth itself. We
first observe that as the earth flies through space, rotating
on its axis, revolving about the sun, and attending him
in his grander orbit, it holds by its attraction both man
and all his works, and all objects upon it securely to its
bosom. This is not a fanciful expression. It is a plain
statement of the fact. From a contemplation of this
supreml care we may pass to consider, in a comprehen
sive view, the multiplied and varied operations of all nat
ural agencies. As here we contemplate the harmonious
cooperation that we behold everywhere manifested, we
cannot fail to perceive that everything is fulfilling its ap
pointed office within a plan. Whether we attempt to
comprehend this plan as a whole, or endeavor to explore
any separate detail of it, in either case we find our power
of observation and of thought transcended. Its grandeur
and its minuteness alike overwhelm us.
We are, however, able to apprehend this plan suf
ficiently well to perceive it to be animated by a central
purpose, to the final achievement of which all subordinate
results, in their own accomplishment, are obviously in
tended to contribute. We behold the earth, the air, water,
light and heat, with all manifestations of force, together
with the inferior creations of both vegetable and animal
life, in one grand harmony, ministering to the service of
man. All these agencies combine to sustain his being, to
develop- his powers and capabilities, to supply the means
for the accomplishment of his purposes, to provide employ
ment for both his physical and his mental' activities and
furnish incentives to their exercise, to delight his senses,
and to call into exercise all the highest forms of his spir
itual activity and satisfy their longings. Thus, in ways
endless in their variety, all things minister to support, to
illuminate and to gladden the existence of man. There

112
can be no question about this fact. Every increase in his
knowledge, every improvement in his culture, each en
largement of his powers of observation and of feeling,
enables man to see the fact with increased distinctness,
and in a continually higher sense, that his own being and
happiness is the supreme end of the creation over which
he finds himself to be the lord whom both things and in
ferior beings serve. This combined physical, intellectual
and emotional existence of achievement and joy in man
is, then, the single ultimate and obvious purpose of the
unvarying activity that is to be observed in nature.
From any candid consideration of this scheme, above all
ideas of power and of wisdom that it conveys, the mind
that is itself in any degree beneficent must just in that
degree be impressed with a sense of the beneficence that
it exhibits. As beauty can be revealed only to beauty, so
beneficence can be perceived only by beneficence. So,
also, in all references to moral qualities these qualities
must be assumed to be possessed by the reader, for if they
do not the language conveys no meaning to him.
We note that the grander the intellectual power of the
observer of nature, the more he becomes amazed in the
contemplation of the mighty plan; and, on the other
hand, the more highly his own beneficent disposition is
developed the more deeply he is affected by the considera
tion of the beneficent spirit by which this plan is ani
mated. We seem, then, to be warranted in the conclusion
that both wisdom and beneficence are combined in this
plan, in degree beyond our power to recognize them, and
that the limit to our apprehension of either is found in
the imperfect development of wisdom and of beneficence
in ourselves.
The reflections thus far made point to the conclusion,
that truth in nature is something more than uniformity '.
of action, that it is uniformity of action with a beneficent
purpose. But purpose and beneficence are both attributes
of a being. We are thus brought to the necessity of ad
mitting, what the spirit of man in its healthy development
recognize with exultation and rapture, namely, the exist'
ence of an Infinite Being, whose ceaseless beneficence is
manifested throughout the material creation, and of which

113
beneficence man is himself the supreme object. Like the
Sabbath, all things were made for man.
In the interpretation of nature, the blind seem thus
far to have had it pretty much their own way. We have
been taught to repeat absurd expressions, founded upon
supposed exceptions to infinite beneficence, as if these
were the rule. Men have been captivated by such sense
less raving of morbid poets as, ' ' Nature, red in tooth and
claw." The earth exerts the inconceivable benefit of its
uniform attraction, and the blind try to fix our attention
on somebody falling from a precipice. The sun warms
all being into glad existence, and the blind see a man sun-
struck. The vital air supports all life, imparts joy with
every breath, and brings health upon its gales, and the
blind point us to cyclones, and so. on to the end of the
chapter. It is as if we gazed upon a glorious picture, and '
could see nothing but fly specks on it. The apparent ex
ceptions to infinite beneficence, however, demand thought
ful consideration.
Such is the definition of truth in nature. Uniform
beneficent activity. The same definition holds good, also,
of truth among men, with an apparent, though not a real,
modification, that exists in the nature of things. Benefi
cence implies relations of superiority and dependence. ¦
There cannot be beneficence between equals. Here, evi
dently, the moral quality of truth is justice. Among men
various kinds and degrees of dependence are observed to
exist. When considered alone, these differences of con
dition often seem to be extreme; but when we take a
more comprehensive view, we discover that in reality the
range of this inequality is very limited indeed. One
human being cannot be conceived to be dependent on the
beneficence of another in any such a sense as this, that, '.
without the active exercise of that beneficence each in
stant, in an infinite multitude and variety of ways, he
could not exist. But this is precisely the sense, or the
degree, in which every creature alike is dependent on that
beneficence which is uniformly manifested throughout the
creation by which we are sui'rounded. Compared with
this dependence of every being on the infinite beneficence,]

114
the beneficence and the dependence that are possible to
exist between man and men very nearly disappear.
Beneficence and justice are, however, essentially the
same thing. They have their unity in love. This is the
supreme active principle. Its manifestations differ in form
as required by the various relations of the beings in whom
it exists. Thus love, the moral quality of truth, which
between equals manifests itself in act as justice, assumes
the form of beneficence on the one hand, and of gratitude
on the other, just in the degree that these practical mani
festations of it are called for by the existence of the rela
tions of superiority and dependence. These, are all the
natural expressions of the same sentiment or feeling of
love, in different wavs, as required by different condi
tions or relations. These differences of manifestation
may even exist in our consciousness, but all these senti
ments, if sincerely felt, are in reality one. The same sen
timent of love to his neighbor impels the true man to be
just, or generous, or grateful to him, as these expressions
of his love are demanded by the relations that he sustains.
Beneficence and gratitude are reciprocally due, and the
former equally with the latter, from man to man, when
the relations of superiority and dependence exist between
them. In this way, as in every other, justice requires the
hearty rendering of that which is due. Thus all manifes
tations of love, in outward act, are properly embraced
under the term "justice." This comprehensive idea of
justice extends, it is true, far beyond the requirements of
human laws, and far also beyond our ordinary habits of
thought ; but it is clearly seen to be the true one. The
term " justice " properly comprehends every form of the
outward expression of love ; the rendering of which ex
pression affords, to the spirit in which the sentiment itself
exists, and just in the degree in which the spirit is ani
mated by this sentiment, the same joy that is kindled by
the reception of it. Truth universal we thus find to be
uniform reciprocal just action between moral beings. It
is the expression of love and the source of joy.
In considering the subject of truth between man and
man, viewed as equals, or the practical application of
the principles that have just been dwelt upon, in the daily

115
intercourse of men, and in their multiplied affairs, it be
comes necessary to distinguish carefully between facts
and ideals ; or, in other words, between truth as the
reality of things, and the ideals of truth. For eommon
and familiar illustrations of this necessity, we may take
our commercial measures, the pound, the yard, the
bushel. Persons who are accustomed to accuracy know
very well that neither of these ideals could be absolutely
given in any reality. But the faithful representation of
them, in quantities of things merchantable, with the
closest attainable approach to accuracy, is honesty. Here
we at once recognize justice to be the essential moral
element in truth, and also the fact that every act of a
being must possess a moral element. Uniformity of
action in giving short weight or measure is the opposite
of truth.
The ideal, as above illustrated, underlies all material
realities. Through these realities, as the only possible
way, the mind is continually endeavoring to reach the ex
pression of its ideals. Thus, for illustration, the mechanic
has in his mind the ideals of mechanical truth, as of the
true line, the true plane, the true cylinder, the true angle
or division of a circle, true division of force, of space, and
of time, truth of form, and of construction, and of me
chanical function. It becomes his highest aim to realize
these ideals in sensible form, or, as it may be termed, in
concrete expression. To this end he exhausts his ingenu
ity in devising methods, and his skill in the application of
them. The question naturally presents itself : where is the
moral quality found in this form of truth ? The answer
to this question lies on the surface, as much so as in the
case of the true pound, or yard, or bushel, which, indeed,
are some of the very ideals that the mechanic endeavors
to realize and embody with exactness. In these, and in all
other cases, men are dependent on the mechanic for the
means of measurement. Upon his ingenuity and skill,
directed to the realization of his ideals, in such form that
the expression of them can be uniformly repeated, all men
rely, throughout their varied intercourse, and in their
search after every form of knowledge of a physical

116
nature. All other men are dependent upon the mechanic
for the means by which they shall be able to express, in
reality, with the utmost attainable exactness, the ideal
physical truths existing in their minds, and to discover
those which exist in nature. The mechanic is thus called
upon to perform a service of fundamental importance,
and in undertaking this service he assumes a relation
towards his fellowmen, in which justice demands from
him the exercise of the most anxious fidelity.
But we need not look so far as this. We may suppose
that these uses for his labor are beyond his thought, and
that his attention is limited to the truth itself, that he is
endeavoring to realize this truth entirely for its own sake.
In what he is now doing he has, by our supposition, no
conscious relation with his fellow men, but only with his
own conception of the mechanical truth that he is seeking
to realize or to express. Here the moral quality appears
in his fidelity to his ideal. It is obvious that he can be
faithful or faithless to this, in the same sense in which he
can be faithful or faithless to his fellow men. There ex
ists a moral quality in every possible act of man. He sus-
¦ tains always a relation of some kind, and whatever
this relation may be, his conduct must be either true
or false, just or unjust, right or wrong.
The moral quality in truth among men is not, however,
here at all in question. This is universally recognized. It
is the moral quality in truth in nature that I am endeavor
ing to make clear, and the above elucidation of the general
subject of truth is important only in its bearing on this
demonstration, as it enables us to see in nature the pres
ence of the infinite moral Being with more distinctness.
The moral quality in truth may properly be expressed by
the word " faithfnlness." Now the faithfulness of God in
nature must, as it seems to me, be deeply impressed upon
the mind that is capable of just sentiments, when it is
considered what the consequences would be, if uniformity
of action in nature could ever fail.
These consequences would be of the same character,
although unspeakably transcending in degree, those which
we observe to follow from deceit, misrepresentation or
unfaithfulness in man. Imagination could not conceive the

117
effect upon the human race of a general loss of confidence
in the uniformity of action in nature; a confidence that is
so absolute, and upon which all human affairs depend.
When we reflect upon this view of the subject, we feel,
indeed, that mere uniformity of action is an expression
that is inadequate, even to mockery; and that the only
rational conception of trath in nature is that of faith
fulness on the part of an Infinite Being.
Nothing is more instructive, and nothing can be more
fascinating to the ingenuous mind, than the contemplation
of this faithfulness, as it is manifested in the unvarying
uniformity of the constitution and the operation of all
things in nature, and also of our own helpless dependence
on this fidelity. From the multitude of illustrations, of
this faithfulness on the one hand and dependence on the
other, which crowd upon our attention, two, taken almost
at random, must suffice here.
The first illustration is this: The constitution of the at
mosphere, in the proportions of the two gases, oxygen and
nitrogen, which compose it, is invariable over all the earth.
Now of all the forms of matter that exist, or that can
exist, in the gaseous state, and of all their combinations, it
has been shown that this particular combination of oxygen
and nitrogen is the only one that can sustain animal life.
Not only is this the case, but, moreover, it is found that
the least change from the existing proportions of these
two gases, even though this be so trifling that all the an
alytical skill of the chemist is taxed to discover it, would
produce injurious effects on every creature that breathes.
Our admiration and awe are increased when we consider
the fact, that no chemical union or combination takes
place between these two gases in the atmosphere, but they
exist together merely as a mechanical mixture. A great
reason has been found why this needs to be so, a reason
which will be stated in its proper connection by and bye.
But the mystery which strikes us dumb is, how these
indispensable proportions are preserved. If a chemical
union took place, then we would imagine that we under
stood it. But what determines those proportions in a
mere mechanical mixture ? This is something that we
know nothing about. We can perceive or imagine no

118
necessity. We are shut up to faith that these proportions
will be maintained.
The second illustration is this: The earth is not a per
fect sphere, but its equatorial diameter is 26.48 miles
greater than its polar diameter. This excess of matter at
the equator is the effect of the centrifugal force that is
developed by the revolution of the earth on its axis. This
centrifugal force sustains over all the globe a spherical
crescent. The points of this crescent are at the poles.
From these it gradually increases in thickness, until at the
equator it reaches around the whole circle of the globe the
depth of 13.24 miles. That portion of the earth's surface
which is now solid, having assumed this general form
when in a fluid state, might possible retain this form, al
though some change had taken place in the forces by
which it was originally determined. This, however, could
not be the case with the fluid portion. The surface of the
ocean is held at this elevation at the equator by this cen
trifugal force. It stands everywhere at the height that is
determined by the equilibrium of the two counteracting
forces, namely, the attraction of the earth and the centri
fugal force developed by its revolution. A change of one
minute in the period of the earth's rotation, or in the
length of the day, would produce a change of 196 feet in
relative heights of the ocean at the equator and at the poles.
Should the day become shortened by this amount, a wave
would leave the equator on all sides of the earth and flow
towards the poles, sufficient to produce this change.
But we may sleep in peace, and go about our daily avoca
tions undisturbed. Eternal faithfulness knows no relax
ation. Unhindered motion continues uniform forever.
It is certain that since geologic time began, the relative
elevations of land and water on the surface of the globe
have not suffered any changes other than those of a local
character, and referable to local causes. Even these
changes have proceeded so gradually as to have become
sensible only after long periods of time. There have been
no alterations of a general nature, such as would indicate
a sensible change in the rate of the earth's rotation.
Thus mechanical science, using the term in its largest
signification, as the science of force, shows us to be envi-

119
roned with truth; and, moreover, it habituates us to the
continual association with truth, in the multiplied forms
of its physical expression. In all these forms we have to
deal with it continually. The influence of this environ
ment of truth has already been largely felt, although as
yet attention has been but little directed to it. Men have
been mostly unconscious of its influence. This has been
silently but none the less powerfully exerted. From the
education that will, directly and indirectly, be afforded by
mechanical science, it must result, that mankind gene
rally will come to be more conscious of the manifestations ",
of truth by which they are surrounded. The all- pervading
presence of the Deity will come to be more generally felt,
and will exert more and more its legitimate influence on
human character, The ultimate extent of this influence .$
will undoubtedly be greater and more beneficent than we
are at present able to imagine.
In an earlier paper allusion has already been made to
the relation that the creation bears to us as our educator.
Attention was there called to what was termed the min
istry of force. We have now been considering a higher
form of this educational influence, which the physical
creation is adapted, and was evidently intended, to exert
on the character of man, and which we may term the
ministry of truth.
The observer of nature has the fact impressed upon
his mind, more and more deeply, that the primary law
of the universe is truth— uniformity of action, directed ;
by love. He learns also the only way in which a moral
being, endowed with a free will can come to be in har
mony with this universal law of truth. This must be
established, also, as the law of his own voluntary activity,
by the perfect development of its motive; so that it
becomes the only manner in which it is possible for his
volition to act.. The necessity for this standard of .truth
in his own being is not at all affected by the fact, that he
finds it too high, not only for his attainment, but even
for his comprehension. The attainment of it is clearly the )
only way in which truth in human beings can be made to |
conform to truth as set before us in the physical creation. '
This ministry of truth can, however, exert but a feeble

120
influence upon the spiritual nature of man, compared with
the mighty benefit that should be received from it, so long
as physical truth continues to be falsely apprehended.
Philosophers consider it scientific to exclude the Creator
from his works. Metaphysicians teach that the mind is
composed of separate and unrelated faculties ; and the
mental activity by which the moral quality in nature can
be recognized we are absolutely forbidden to exercise for
this purpose.
In all systems of education, a wide distinction is made
between physical and moral truth, as being essentially
different, and apprehended by us through different facul
ties or senses. We are taught that physical truth relates
to things, and is apprehended by us fully and completely
by the exercise of our intellectual faculties ; while moral
truth relates to moral beings, and is apprehended by us
through our moral sense. We are taught that, by the
employment of our purely intellectual powers, we com
prehend physical science, in all its departments ; and with
this science moral truth and moral sentiments, and the
emotional nature, have nothing whatever to do. We are
taught that between the laws of the physical universe and
the conduct of moral beings, as between the mental facul
ties by which the former are apprehended, and the moral
sentiments that direct the latter, there exists absolutely
no relation. By most persons this would be laid down as
an axiom, too obvious for discussion, needing only to be
stated. To this height of absurdity have we been brought
by a false system of education.
All this elaborate artificial classification has already
been shown to be wholly imaginary ; as much the idle
creation of the mind in its unguided activity as is any
system of idolatry. Here we. find mankind lost in a
morass of falsehood, out of which nothing can extricate
us, except the recognition of the absolute unity of truth
in its physical and its spiritual forms of manifestation,
and also of the unity of the human spirit by which this
truth is to be apprehended.
Science would shut us up to the contemplation of law; I
the highest conception possible to be formed by what it
terms the intellect; the imaginary God of this imaginary

121
member or organ of the human spirit. But the considera
tions which have been presented in this paper leave no room
for doubt that the spiritual element is the fundamental
element in physical truth, and that the idea of physical
truth that does not embrace this feature of it is incom
plete in a vital respect, and misleading in its influence.
We are now able to affirm that every physical phenome
non is the act of an Infinite Being, performed with refer
ence, either direct or ultimate, to inferior and dependent
beings. Physical truth is then properly defined as the conduct of
God. It is the mode in which God deals with man, and
works with reference to man. So, in its essential nature,
as well as in the mode of its revelation to us, or apprehen
sion by us, it is not to be distinguished from the conduct of
men, or the mode in which they deal with one another.
The recognition of force in the universe, without the
recognition of the moral quality in every manifestation of
force, as the act of a Being, is as if we should confine our
attention to the mere exertions of force by men, without
reference to the motives by which these were prompted
and directed. The latter is something that the mind re
fuses to do. We know, our own consciousness assures us,
that every act of man is directed, by a motive. Then our
only possible conclusion is that every act of God is directed
by a motive; and the imaginary distinction between phys
ical and moral science, and the modes of their apprehen
sion, vanishes away.
Attention has already been called to the fact, that this
distinction, which has been made fundamental in our sys
tems of thought, and the effect of which is so unfortunate,
is in reality only a distinction between those truths which
can be considered without reference to a Being, and those
which cannot be separated from a Being in our thought.
All phenomena which men could consider separately from
the idea of a Being they have done. They have formed
such partial conceptions of them as they could do when
thus cut off from their source, and these conceptions con
stitute physical science.
The work of the reason, about which we hear continu
ally, is, in all the field of physical science, merely the activ-

122
ity of the mind in tracing relations, in distinguishing,
combining and concluding, based on a partial apprehen
sion of the facts; when the facts of paramount signifi
cance are not present in consciousness.
This partial philosophy receives but little check in those
departments of science, in which the physical organs of
perception are wholly relied upon, in which observation
terminates on material forms, and in which it is possible
for the thought of spiritual realities to be avoided. But
mechanical science, which brings us into immediate contact
with the omnipresent reality of force, and exhibits to us
immediately the underlying and primary element of truth,
contains a power that aids us materially in the discern
ment of all spiritual realities.
In a former paper we have considered the unity of the
human spirit. Our present discussion enables us to affirm
the unity of truth. There is only one kind of truth, as
there is only one spirit in man to apprehend it. Truth in
the physical creation is the conduct of God. Science is the
knowledge of the conduct of God. Truth in man is con
duct like the conduct of God. All truth involves spiritual
being as an essential element of the conception, and re
quires for its correct apprehension the exercise by the
human spirit of every form of its activity.

123

THE PERCEPTION OF SPIRITUAL
REALITIES BY RECOGNITION.

God in nature is the supreme fact of science. Then, of
course, He ought to be so regarded. But He is not gen
erally so regarded. There must be a reason for this re
fusal, and a reason that, when we come to perceive it, will
be found fully adequate to account for the fact. This phe
nomenon, like all others, must have its complete explana
tion. It is only necessary that this explanation shall be
pointed out. This will be attempted in this and the suc
ceeding papers.
The real cause of this phenomenon seems to lie in the
mode of revelation, by which the knowledge of all spiritual
realities is conveyed to us. It has been shown already
respecting force, that this first spiritual reality is perceived
by recognition. We become aware of the existence of
force only as we recognize it. Through similarity of effects
produced, we recognize force as the act of a being; an act
similar to efforts which we are conscious of having made
ourselves. It seemed obvious that a being who was not
himself capable of exerting force could not form any idea
of force. It is not necessary to repeat here the exposition
of this undoubted fact.
We now note that the other spiritual realities, of truth,
love and beauty, are revealed to our minds in the same
way, or by recognition. Like force, they are of a nature
incapable of being apprehended through our physical
organs of perception. Still, like force again, they are re
vealed to us in some way. In some way, and in some de
gree, we certainly become aware of their existence. How
do we come to have such cognitions ? We obtain them
ill a manner similar to that in which we obtain our knowl
edge of force. Through similarity of manifestation, in
outward act, or visible or audible expression, we recognize
that which we are conscious of experiencing ourselves.
This is the only way in which such conceptions can be
formed, in which the images of truth, or love, or beauty
can be brought into consciousness. We recognize that

124
which is like to our conscious selves. In addition to this,
we also recognize that which is like to our ideal; that is,
which is like in kind, only transcending in degree, that of
which we are capable ourselves.
As a being incapable of exerting force can form no con
ception of force, so a being incapable of truth or love can
form no conception of truth or love. Any expression or
manifestation of these realities in other beings cannot sug
gest any corresponding sensations to him. He has no ex
perience that would enable him to recognize them. They
revive no images in his consciousness. The same is true,
also, of beauty; although we cannot well consider the case
of beauty until we shall have seen its true nature, and
the identity of physical with spiritual beauty, which will
form the subject of a later paper.
This mode of perception of spiritual realities is not
essentially different from that of the perception of objects
of sense. In both perceptions alike an image is formed
in consciousness. In the one case this image is like some
external object. In the other case it is like some previous
sensation. In each case it is only the image formed in
consciousness that is contemplated, and that is referred by
us to the object, or to the being. For illustration, we
attribute whiteness to an object and purity to a soul by
mental processes similar to each other, and which are
founded upon images that in the two cases alike we have
formed in consciousness.
The identity of the mental operations in these two cases
ought to be made entirely clear. In physical perception
xthe likeness formed in consciousness always stands to us
in place of the reality. The purpose of all care in obser
vation is to form this likeness correctly, and all errors
arise from the failure to do so. Every sense is often
called into exercise to verify the correct image in con
sciousness. So, precisely, we observe the conduct of other beings,
and we form images or conceptions of the motives that
have actuated them to such conduct, or of the sentiments
or feelings that are manifested by it. These images or
conceptions we can form in only one possible way. We
recognize the fact that by similar conduct we should our-

125
selves manifest or express such motives or sentiments or
feelings. The images of them are revived in conscious
ness, and we attribute or refer these motives or senti
ments or feelings to the person whose conduct we observe.
This accounts for the fact, that ordinarily it is not possible
for men to conceive of other men as being actuated to any
particular conduct by motives different from those that
they are conscious would impel themselves to the same •
conduct. Another result follows from this mode of spiritual per
ception. In advance of any conduct observed, it is the
spontaneous impulse of the mind to perceive in every
other mind the reflection of its own conscious self. We
naturally refer the images of sensations and emotions that
we form in consciousness, to other minds, precisely as we
do to our own. Thus we intuitively expect from others
the same conduct, or outward expression of the spiritual
state, that would be natural to ourselves.
Among spiritual beings in their normal condition, and
for such beings this mode of perception of spiritual reali
ties was evidently designed, this expectation respecting
the conduct of each other could never be disappointed.
The conduct would invariably manifest the existence of
love, and consequently of truth, in every one in equal de
gree, and complete harmony and sympathy would be the
necessary result .
But among men not only are the realities of truth and
love developed in very different degrees, and these degrees
at the best limited ; but, moreover, each one of these has
its corresponding opposite, in falsehood and hatred, and
these oppooites are also developed among men in endless
diversity of degree. These two classes of opposites, in
their various combinations, constitute the endless variety
of human character.
Under these abnormal conditions the spontaneous incli
nation still exists in each individual, to see in others only
the reflection of his own conscious nature ; to attribute to
others the motives and sentiments of which alone he is
able to form the images in his consciousness, and to rec
oncile all conduct observed with such motives and feelings.
This tendency, which is now a mistaken one, becomes

126
in some degree corrected by experience, in proportion as
the judicial spirit is possessed. It is only by the exercise
of this spirit that we are able to attribute conduct that is
of a character more elevated than we ourselves are capable
of to motives that we cannot comprehend or form images
of in our own consciousness.
It is obvious that the want of the normal spiritual
realities of truth and love, and still more the possession of
their opposites, must of necessity render the individual in
sensible to the existence of the former in other beings,
He cannot recognize them. He cannot form images of
them in consciousness. He cannot perceive their exist
ence, in the only possible mode of such perception. For
him they have no existence. He is necessarily dead to
them. This affords the explanation of the fact, that has
already been stated, that like can be revealed only to like,
beauty to beauty, truth to truth, love to love.
The subject of ideals of truth and love, and conse
quently, as we shall see hereafter, of beauty, is an inter
esting and an important one. Ideals of these realities are
images of them that are formed in consciousness more or
less vaguely, because in degree they transcend our own ex
perience, and so exceed our power to form images of them
distinctly. It is to be observed, that our power to form
these ideals, or indistinct images of degrees of truth and
love that transcend our own experience, increases with
each increase of our conscious possession of these realities,
or, in other words, of our ability to form distinct images
of them. The higher the actual attainment, the higher
becomes the ideal.
This is in accordance with what is to be observed
universally. In looking at any objects of sense, for ex
ample, the ignorant man is quite incapable of realizing
that there is anything before him that he cannot see. To
the instructed mind, on the contrary, just in proportion
to the depth of its own real insight will be its further ap
prehension of the existence of that which is beyond its
power to discern. So precisely in the case of these
spiritual realities. The greater the degree in which these
are really possessed, the more capable the spirit becomes
of realizing the facts, of their infinite nature, and of the

127
limited degree in which it is itself able to form distinct
images of them, or to become distinctly conscious of their
existence. When we shall come to consider the combined manifes
tation of all spiritual realities in their harmony, in beauty,
the occasion will present itself for viewing this general
subject of spiritual recognition somewhat more in detail.
The observations already made seem to be sufficient to
show this recognition to be the necessary mode of the
revelation of these realities.

128

THE REVELATION OF GOD.

In the preceding paper a brief exposition was made of
the mode in which all spiritual realities are revealed to
man. It would seem to follow, necessarity, that the
supreme spiritual reality, the Infinite Being, in whom force,
truth, love and beauty inhere, from whom these proceed,
of whom they are the manifestation, can himself be re
vealed to us only in the same way, or, by recognition, as
our ultimate and adored ideal. The importance of this
subject, and the radical error underlying the view of it
that is commonly held, and which has become fixed by
our education, demand for it, however, a separate and full
discussion. It is undoubtedly necessary that the applica
tion of this law, of spiritual perception by recognition, to
the revelation of God, should be distinctly shown.
When, in another stage of being, our eyes shall be
opened, or our power of spiritual recognition shall be en
larged, the overwhelming fact will burst upon us, that God
had been before us every instant of our existence, and had
been revealed in every possible way; that all things had
combined to show the supreme truth of his presence; and
that, while the few had faintly and dimly realized the en
rapturing revelation, the mass of mankind, through
inability to recognize infinite and universal love, had been
stone blind to it all. Amazement will fill the soul, as it
recalls, in every activity of nature, the ceaseless revelation
of God.
The mistaken views and the confusion of thought that
prevail on this subject, of our cognition of the being of
God, have their roots in the artificial imaginary divisions
of the human spirit, and the arbitrary allotment of sepa
rate functions to its different supposed organs. Thus it is
assumed that the emotional nature has no perceptive
power. It is taken as an axiom, that I cannot love, ex
cept as first I have an intellectual apprehension of the
being that I am to love. The fact that love only can re
cognize love, and that it is through such recognition that
the spirit in its unity obtains its only knowledge of the ex-

129
istence of this principle, or emotion, or motive to action,
in another spirit, is a fact that has not itself been generally
recognized. Hence this confusion.
The first step towards a right understanding oi this im
portant matter must be to disabuse our minds of the idea
that the being of God is, or can be made, in any degree the
subject of our intellectual apprehension. This proposition
will of course seem a very strange one to the reader who
assumes our intellectual apprehension to be our only mode
of apprehension. The error lies in this very assumption,
the unfounded nature of which I shall endeavor to show.
A disposition still exists among theologians, although
less strongly marked than it has formerly been, to exalt
the reason, and in some vague way to rely upon it as a
source of spiritual knowledge. In this theologians have
only followed the prevailing philosophy. They have per-
severingly tried to find in the reason the means of reaching
the unseen, of attaining a knowledge of what has been
called the supernatural. In this they have repeated the
folly of the builders of Babel, apparently comprehending
as little as they the nature of the structure that shall
"reach unto heaven." Mechanical science has made clear
the futility of all such efforts. It shows us that the mental
processes, which men call the reason, do not afford the
means of arriving at any truth, except in the region of
pure mathematics ; that all realities, both those of a
physical and those of a spiritual nature, are revealed to us
in other ways. It shows us still more than this, namely,
that respecting all realities of a physical nature, our
reasoning needs to have its errors corrected by observation
at every step. Now the speculative mind loves to get far
away from these physical fields, into regions where it is
secure from these tests of observation. But the analogies
of mechanical science follow it there. There is no escape
from the searching question : If in things with which we
are most familiar, and where the truth is well established,
it is not possible for the mind to advance one step without
the certainty of falling into error, what confidence is it
possible for us, as reasonable beings, to put in speculations,
where our vagaries cannot be correcte"] ? In these highest
departments of truth also it is evident that we must seek

130
for, and recognize, and submit to, the guidance of revela
tion, if we would have our belief here rested on the same
secure foundation, on which we have rested our belief of
physical truth. The mode of revelation of the highest
spiritual truth becomes, then, the subject of supreme
interest. It occurs at once to one educated in the prevailing
philosophy, and whose thought is bounded by its formulas,
who cannot receive into his mind the truth of the exclu
sive perceptive power of love in its own province, to ask :
"How can I love God, unless I first have a belief in his
being, which belief I arrive at by the exercise of my reason
or intelligence ? " This question appears unanswerable to
those who have been educated to regard love as a mere
sentiment, and to rely on what they call their intellectual
faculties as the only means of knowledge. According to
this philosophy, the knowledge must exist first, obtained
in some other way, before the sentiment can have any
object for its exercise.
We observe that this question assumes belief in the
being of God to be one thing, and love for him to be quite
another and a subsequent thing. Such a conception of the
subject is apparently fortified by the fact, that the exist
ence of God is confessed by very many persons, who yet
profess to feel little or no regard for him. The answer to
this question is, that the imaginary being, of whom men
can form an intellectual idea, is not God. The under
standing leads men astray here as completely as we have
seen it to do in the search after physical truth. The God
of the understanding is the work of men's imagination.
He is not their Creator, but their creature. They have
created him, and have made him a being like themselves,
and so quite within their comprehension ; only greater
than they, just as the forces manifested in nature are
greater than those which they can exert. It is evident on
reflection that the mental process by which this imaginary
Deity is formed is not to be distinguished from the process
by which men create idols, and attribute their own
qualities to them. The utmost that our God-makers do,
or can do, is to select their own good qualities or ideals, or
those which they believe to be such, and in which belief

131
they are always in a greater or lesser degree mistaken,
and to invest their handiwork with these. Each person
has his own ideal, and so makes his own God, about whom.
his conceptions are generally pretty definite. In the study
of all things in nature we are directly lost in mysteries.
We may, perhaps, make as much progress towards a com
plete understanding of common objects of sense, as a
miner makes towards reaching the centre of the earth.
But when we approach the infinite mystery of the being
of God, we are content to create in our imaginations a
being adequate to make and to do what we observe to be
made and done, and to say : "this is God." This is the
work of what we call the intellect, by which we mean
here the imagination. As if conscious, however, of the
imposition, we are inspired by this imaginary deity to no
act of worship, or feeling of love, or exercise of faith. We
recognize no personal relation between ourselves and our
handiwork. A chief cause of our error here is to be found in the in
fluence of human analogies, which when pressed too far
are always misleading. We observe concerning our fellow-
beings, that in order that we shall love them, we must first
obtain through our senses evidence of their existence. We
form images of them in our consciousness, which images
are determined by the reality before us, and with which
images we then proceed to associate conduct observed, and
sentiments and feelings, which we attribute to them, and
which are limited by our own. Thus we naturally get a
corresponding idea respecting our knowledge of God, that
we must first form an image of God in our minds in some
way, and afterwards come to love him. It is necessary
that we shall become completely freed from the influence
of these misleading analogies. Then when we shall come
to look for the process of, first, the intellectual apprehen
sion of God, and, second, the awakening of the feeling of
love for the Being that has thus been intellectually appre
hended, we shall find that there is no such process; but that
our only possible apprehension of God that is true, in the
degree that we are able to form it, is that apprehension that
is formed by the recognition of love alone.
Science affirms God to be the unknowable and the un-

132
thinkable. In this declaration science is right. Its error
lies in paying no regard to the real mode of spiritual per
ception, by which the revelation of God is in fact made to
us, and which is the only possible mode of such revelation.
But this conclusion of science that the human intellect is
incapable of arriving at any knowledge of God is not new.
It. was anticipated long ago. "Who hath known the
mind of the Lord ?" "Canst thou by searching find out
God ?" " The heavens are higher than the earth, so are my
ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your
thoughts." The living force of this language, and of other
expressions of similar import in the Bible, contrasts in a
striking manner with the lifeless formulas of philosophic
construction. The contrast is, indeed, no greater between
the la'nguage, than it is between the reality, of the two
cases. The first marks the hopeless end of philosophic
thought. The second is the sublime beginning of revela
tion. But while ignorant of the true mode of this revelation, ~
we cry: "If God be, indeed, the unknowable and the un
thinkable, then he has not everywhere revealed himself to
us." "Then it is not true that our whole being, with all its
powers, has been adapted to the supreme purpose of be
holding him." Peace, troubled soul ! How should the in
finite be revealed to the finite ? A very slight exercise of
the understanding would seem sufficient to show how
futile the search after God must be, that is conducted
within the limits of human processes of thought. If man
were only a reasoning machine, then mere uniformity of
action expressed as law would be his ultimate conception.
Then it is cetain that not God alone, but all spiritual
realities, would be hidden from him. For him they would
have no significance. He would be without power to recog
nize their existence.
In accordance with the law of all spiritual perception,
and, indeed, in accordance with the law of perception uni
versally, we perceive the being of God only through the
spontaneous and necessary recognition of him by the spirit
in its activity of love. As all the manifestations of God,
in. the modes of force and truth and beauty, have their
unity in love, as love is the essence of the divine nature,

133
and the motive to all divine conduct, so also the affections
constitute the whole spiritual nature of man, and the
motive to all his activity. If these are in their normal
state, then they are in entire harmony with the nature of
God, and the spirit necessarily recognizes his universal
being and presence. If the spiritual nature of man is
not so in entire harmony with the divine nature, then it
can recognize God only in degree, in such degree as it is
able to form the image or ideal of him. If it does not
spontaneously form such image or ideal in any degree,
then it must be dead to his existence.
For the correct apprehension of this, the only possible
mode of the divine revelation, it is necessary at first that
we should consider man, not as in fact he is, but as he
would be in his normal state ; a state in which universal
love is the ceaseless animating force, in which every
thought is suggested by love, and every act is the expres
sion of love. In this normal state, man would necessarily
be conscious of his environment of universal love, and this
is God.
The being and the love of God are convertible terms.
This was true of the divine man. It would also be true of
man universally in his normal state, which we are now
supposing. In this state, love in man would differ from
love in God only in degree, according to the capacity of
his nature, love in God being infinite. In this normal
state, man would receive the revelation of God, in becom
ing conscious of the universal reciproicty to his own love.
He forms no conception. He only loves. Every other
being is equally the object of his love. He is conscious of
love in return from every other being. Above all he is
conscious of an environing Being, who is infinite love.
The latter recognition becomes necessary from the fact
that in this state man has been made in the spiritual
image of God, and must recognize his own likeness or
ideal. He feels the spontaneous and supreme impulse to
love, and also the corresponding longing for love. In the
complete satisfying of this longing he recognizes infinite
love, and becomes aware of the harmony of which he
forms a part. The conscious particular recognizes its
universal,

134
In this normal state, the spirit must see God, precisely
as the open eye must see objects in nature, or as the mind
must recognize familiar truths, and that for the same
reason, namely, that this recognition, and consequent
communion and joy, are the very purposes for which
man's spiritual nature, with its power of perception, was
given to him, the end to which it was especially adapted
and which it was evidently intended to serve.
God having been first revealed in the spirit, the universe
is then seen to be the manifestation of his love, and be
comes animate with his presence. Everything then ap
pears in its true character, as a mode of the endlessly
varied activity of infinite love ; and the spirit rejoices,
with rapture unspeakable, as a being receiving, and
responding to, and so communing in, that love.
This recognition of the soul is, then, the mode of the
revelation of God. But to us, in our abnormal state, this
revelation is, of necessity, dim and obscure, even at the
best. The direct and immediate recognition of God by
the soul is feeble, on account of the feeble degree in which
universal love is developed in our natures. The external
perception of his presence is necessarily imperfect in the
same degree, for we can see, or can recognize without,
only those spiritual realities that we have already felt
within. Among men, therefore, the revelation of God,
or the spontaneous recognition of God in the soul, must
be a matter of degree, according to the development in
this respect of each spiritual being. In this degree, and
in this degree only, every physical sense becomes a me
dium, through which the sympathizing spirit recognizes its
own image or ideal, and so in part beholds the activity of
universal love.
It should be observed that, while to man in his
normal state the recognition of God must be complete up
to the full capacity of his nature, still this recognition can
never become complete, in anything like the absolute sense
of that term. The true conception of perfect beings must
doubtless be that of endless growth, with always an ador
ing consciousness of depths unfathomed of love in God.
The idea is a prevalent one, that love to God may result
as an effect or consequence of the purely intellectual study

135
of his works. This is the same error that has already been
exposed, only modified in its mode of statement. Strange
as it may at first seem, the fact is, that where love to God,
or, correctly speaking, that love by the spontaneous
activity of which God is recognized or revealed to us, does
not already exist, in some degree at least, the effect of the
study of his works is invariably to hide him more and
more from us.
On reflection, the necessity for this result becomes ap
parent, and it affords a full demonstration of the correct
ness of the view of spiritual revelation that is here taken.
In the case supposed there exists, if not a positive
antagonism, at least a complete want of sympathy or
harmony, between the soul and God; and therefore the
spirit cannot perceive him, has no power to recognize his
existence. In its merely intellectual activity the spirit of man
works mechanically. This mechanism itself feels no
interest, forms no purpose, provides no impulse. It works
in any direction indifferently, as impelled and guided by
the emotional nature, by the I, by love or hate, in the
degree of its development, either to build or to destroy.
Even in the study of nature for the very purpose of find
ing evidences of design requiring a designer, when the
thought is arrested here, the understanding itself is as in
different as is the eye to the shape of an image that is
formed within it, or the hand to the purpose for which
its muscular power is being exerted.
Thus it is clearly shown that the recognition of the being
of God does not wait upon, or in any manner depend upon,
the manifestation of God to our senses. On the contrary,
this recognition must have been made by the spirit
already, in the only possible way, namely, by the spon
taneous action of similar love existing in the soul, respond
ing to its universal environment of divine love, in order
that the sensible expressions of the love of God shall be
discerned at all. Otherwise the spirit is dead to them all.
This is a fact of ordinary experience. That all the com
mon and familiar operations of nature are in reality the
manifestations of the infinite love of God, in its ceaseless
activity, is an idea that no mem, whose nature is not, at

136
least in some degree, in harmony with the divine nature,
is able to entertain for an instant. That all force is the per
sonal act of the omnipresent God, extending not only to
the most common and minute things, but, moreover, in
everything extending to where minuteness becomes lost in
infinity, this to such a mind is foolishness. A remarkable
feature of the case appears in the fact, to which reference
has already been made, that the unvarying uniformity of
all natural operations, that very characteristic of them
which is fundamental in our idea of truth in moral beings,
that is the necessary expression of eternal faithfulness, is
the feature that operates most effectually to hide God
from the sight of men. They could recognize superior
power in exceptional phenomena; but the changeless love
that shines in the life-giving sun, this they cannot see.
The very constancy' of the beneficent conduct of God thus
absolutely forms a barrier to his recognition.
Again, wherever God has not already been spiritually
recognized, the perfection manifested in every part of the
creation, and the harmony that pervades all natural opera
tions, produce on the mind the same blinding effect.
While the illumined spirit, united with God in the har
mony of universal love, rejoices in the manifest glory of
the Infinite Father, the merely philosophic mind, accord
ing to the present limited use of this term, or the mind
that is shut up to merely intellectual processes, sees only
the ordinary and regular operations of nature. With
this absolutely impersonal, and therefore meaningless
expression what is now called the philosophic mind rests
quite satisfied. Beyond this it feels no interest, and there
fore it can discover nothing.
If, then, we can only become freed from the influence
of a false education, which has itself been directed by blind
philosophy, we shall be able to perceive clearly enough,
that our belief in, or knowledge of, the true and living
God cannot precede, but must wholly consist in, the
spiritual recognition of the soul in love; and that the effect
of this sympathetic union with God is, that the spirit
becomes illuminated to see that which was before invisible,
to which it had been completely insensible, and that now,
under the impulse of normally awakened affections, the

137
thought can no longer stop nor be arrested until it has
penetrated into the universal presence of God, and con
templates in all things the working of his infinite love.
Tne truth of the view that has been here presented is
shown in its power to clear away the cloud of difficulties
with which this subject has been darkened, and which
have produced a disastrous effect on many minds that
have been earnestly seeking for the light.
It has been taught, and generally assumed, that the
God of nature, or God as revealed in nature, is a Being
who is intellectually apprehended by us. We are indebted
for this idea to what is known as the science of Natural
Theology. Now, our argument has certainly advanced
far enough to expose the absurd falsity of such an idea.
The God of nature is certainly identical with the God of
grace. Then the difficulty has always been felt to be a serious
one of connecting this supposed God of nature, or God as
intellectually apprehended, with the infinitely loving,
merciful, forgiving Father who is revealed in the Bible.
A chasm has seemed to separate the two. And well it
may have done. For the supposed God. so intellectually
apprehended has no existence. This is another of the
fictions of the human mind. There is no such Being.
The true and living God is not intellectually apprehended.
It suits human pride to assume that the intellect of man
must have something to do with our perception of God;
but human pride is itself the great obstacle to this per
ception. All truth must be sought in the deepest humil
ity. This is preeminently the case with the highest truth
of all. It is God dwelling in us, actually present in our
consciousness, whom we recognize. The Apostle John
expressed the truth exactly when he said: "He that
loveth not knowth not God, for God is love."
The spontaneous activity of the spirit in love is to be
observed in little children. All that the conscious spirit
does, before it can reflect or understand, and prior to any
experience, is to love and trust. The latter act rests upon
the assumption of universal love like its own. Manifesta- \
tions of these feelings of love and trust constitute the
child's first signs of recognition. That love and trust are

138
natural and intuitive is shown in the universal fact, that
the child is delighted by manifestations of responsive love,
and is grieved by the want of them.
We are inspired with new admiration when we observe
that, as it is the most important of all things that we
should have this knowledge of God, or this power to re
cognize him, so the activity of the spirit in love, by which
activity, just in the degree that it assumes a universal
form, God becomes spontaneously recognized, is the earli
est of all spiritual activities to be developed and exercised ;
and also that all the endearing relations of life, symbols of
the far closer relation of the soul to God, as these relations
appear in succession from the opening to the close of our
earthly existence, unsealing successive fountains of happi
ness, are adapted and are evidently intended to preserve
the love and trust of infancy unblighted. Here we re
cognize the meaning of the command of the Christ, that
we must become as little children. We see it to be merely
the expression of a command that exists in the nature of
things. Care and trust are the reciprocal expressions of
the same love, on the parts, respectively, of protecting and
of dependent beings. The former expression actually does
exist, and the latter is possible to exist, between God and
man in infinite degree.
In concluding these observations on the revelation of
God, attention is called to the fact that this revelation, like
the revelations of inferior truths, is of a nature adapted to
bring to the spirit receiving it the full and entire convic
tion of its truth. The spirit rests in this sure belief. This
contrast is to be noted between this revelation and all
superstitious beliefs, that when the revelation of God has
been received in this manner, then the more comprehen
sive the knowledge, and the more profound the intelli
gence, the more certain becomes the truth of the revela
tion. It is further to be observed, that we can never rise above
the analogies that are afforded by mechanical science. As
in that science, so here also, experiment is the only source
of knowledge. Men can only idlv pretend to reason about
that which they have not experimentally established. The
personal relation of the soul of man with God is something

189
that can only be known experimentally. It is obviously
impossible for the mind that has not received the knowl
edge of God by the recognition of his infinite and universal
love to know an3rthing about it. And for such a mind to
deny the existence of God, to discuss the subject of his
being at all, or to entertain any opinion whatever concern
ing it, or respecting the whole matter of the relation of
man to God, is clearly just as absurd, as we have seen that
it would be for one to reason about the existence of any
objects which are not revealed to us -through any process of
reasoning, or, on the other hand, for one who knew only
about objects that are revealed through the physical senses
to express an opinion about the existence of abstract
truths.

140
THE VERBAL REVELATION.

We have now finished our brief and necessarily very
general survey of the physical and spiritual modes of reve
lation. These modes have been seen to vary, as is ren
dered necessary by the varied nature of the truths
revealed. We have observed that every bodily sense, and
every modj of activity of the spirit, are called into exer
cise, to serve as media for the revelation to man of
physical and spiritual truth, and that each one of these in
its office, and the spirit in its unity, are adapted for the
transmission and the reception or apprehension of every
form of truth. This adaptation includes, of course,
historical truth, which has not yet been considered.
There remains an auxiliary to all these provisions for
our reception of revelation in its varied forms, and that is
the gift of language. This is the gift by which our spirits
communicate with one another. It is, perhaps, rather to
be regarded as a mode of communication than of revela
tion. Language has this supreme use, that it is adapted for
the communication to man of truths of the highest conse
quence, which, being historical in their nature, could not
be imparted to him in any other way, as well as of those
truths, to the natural revelation of which we are, in our
> abnormal state, nearly or quite insensible.
We have that which claims our acceptance as such
verbal revelation. We have a book, which purports to be
the actual employment, by the Giver of language himself,
of this highest physical gift for its highest possible use.
The question presents itself : Is this book to be accepted
as true ? Written by men, as necessarily it must have
been, did the Bible, nevertheless, emanate from the Infinite
Mind, the source of all truth ? Are its words the words of
God, or lather, in all its essential teachings, is it the word
of God? For the determination of this question, our
present subject suggests a line of inquiry that seems to be
in its nature fundamental and searching. It suggests the
question: Is this book in harmony with the physical reve
lation ? Is the God of nature also the God of the Bible 1

141
The God of nature is seen to be a Being of infinite,
universal and changeless love. Having first been spirit
ually recognized, He is then seen to fill all things. These
are then seen to have their supreme use as the universal
manifestation to man of the being and nature of God. Is
the same manifestation contained also in the Book ?
When we approach this subject, the fact that first pre
sents itself is, that the Bible declares the existence of one
God ; not of a divided sovereignty, nor of inferior divini
ties, but of one Jehovah. Nature declares this to be the
truth. The unity and harmony everywhere observable
forbid any other supposition. Science has been truly said
to be the grave of polytheism. At the outset, we find this
fundamental agreement to exist between the Bible and
physical revelation.
Again, the Bible declares God to be a spirit, whom no
power has been given us to discern, admitting of no man
ner of similitude, of whom our spirits, in their form con
structing activity, can create no image; but with whom
we have relations far more close than we are able to con
ceive, and with whom, moreover, our spirits may have im
mediate personal communion, the intimacy of which has
no limit except that which is imposed by the imperfect
nature of our love, or, in other words, by the limited de
gree of this form of our spiritual activity .
On this precise point the corroboration afforded by
Nature is necessarily in some degree negative, but it will
be seen that it is hardly less conclusive on that account.
nature assures us, first, that God is so completely hidden
from us, and, second, that this fact does not afford the
least reason for doubting His personal existence, His uni
versal presence, and our own personal relations with Him.
The better we become acquainted with nature, the more
distinctly we are made to see the extreme limitation of our
perceptive powers. It is, of course, obvious that these do
not extend to the direct perception of any form of spiritual
being, which, nevertheless, we know to exist. But very
far within this limitation, we find that our knowledge of
the physical forms of being, while ample for all our needs
and uses, is extremely superficial, that the reality of all
material things is far beyond our sight. And yet we know

142
this reality to exist. The tendency of all research is more
and more to check human presumption, and to induce an
humble and a reverent spirit, in view of the exceedingly
narrow limits of our actual knowledge, and the infinity of
even physical truth.
With respect to the eternal self-existence and omni
presence of God, Nature and the Bible are in full accord.
Both alike also represent God as a Being of infinite and
unchangeable truth. This harmony has been already set
forth in an earlier paper.
Although many expressions in the Bible can be wrested,
and have abundantly been wrested, by men to an opposite
sense, still the totality of its teaching unquestionably rep
resents God to be a Being of universal and unchangeable
love. Indeed, this is taught and exhibited in the Bible in
such a remarkable manner, that the mass of Christians, in
contemplating these teachings and this exhibition, even
while they strive to confine infinite love within the limits
of their comprehension, and while they cloud it by imput
ing to God the vindictiveness of their own dispositions,
are still habituated to overlook, for the most part, the
harmonious exhibitions of the same love by which they
ai*e surrounded. The beauty and the glory of the divine
love, as revealed in the Bible, render them in a large
degree blind to the necessarily equal beauty and glory of
the same love, as revealed in nature.
The foregoing points of agreement may be summed up
in the pregnant statement, that the revelation of God
made in the Bible is in every respect fully adequate to the
revelation of Him that is made in His works. In these
respects the Bible stands alone, in striking contrast with
all other recorded thought. No other composition meets
any of these demands, except so far as such compositions
have obviously been derived from the Bible itself.
It is next to be noted that, although the Bible was com
pleted long before the beginning of scientific inquiry, still
the discoveries of science have not rendered it obsolete.
On the contrary, these discoveries have enabled the mean
ing and force of much of its language to be better under
stood. It is hardly possible at the present day to conceive
the ignorance of physical truth, or the false conceptions

143
respecting physical phenomena, or the limited range of
thought concerning all this class of subjects, that existed
universally during all the period in which the several
books of the Bible were written. The form of the earth
had not even become a subject of inquiry. Respecting its
size, curiosity did not anywhere extend beyond the small
portion of it that was known. Its age was supposed, by
the few who had any thought about it, to be measured by
a few generations of men. The speculations of Pythag
oras were, apparently, without appreciable influence, and
aside from these, the only conception respecting the earth
that was held with any degree of distinctness was, that it
formed the centre of all things, and that a solid firmament,
in which the sun and moon and stars were set, revolved
around it every day. The whole Bible was written under
these infantile conditions, of mistaken conceptions, and
extreme limitation of thought.
Since that time, on the one hand w-e have learned the
obscure rank of the earth, and, on the other hand, the
thoughts of men have become enlarged, until human con
ceptions are lost in the infinities of space and time. But
we have not outgrown the Bible. There appears to be a
remarkable likeness between this Book and the nature of
things, in this respect : The meaning that is conveyed to
our minds by the Bible, in all its allusions to physical ob
jects or phenomena, expands just in the degree in which
our conceptions of the phenomena expand. It seems as if
both the description and the phenomena were limited to
us in the same way, namely, by our capacity to compre
hend them. The unique character of the language of the
Bible in this respect also becomes strikingly evident, when
this Book is contrasted with any other writing.
In addition to this remarkable character of its language,
it is to be observed that the Bible contains only one dis
tinct trace of the ignorance of the ages in which it was
written respecting physical phenomena. This is the ac
count of the sun and moon standing still at the command
of Joshua. A candid examination of this account can
leave no doubt that it ought to be regarded as a fable.
There seems, however, little hope that this will be done by
any Christian organization, at least at present ; since the

144
Protestant Church, which could see the revisers of the
English version of the New Testament make short work
with the legend of the angel of the pool, appears, equally
with the Roman Church, to have set its heart on this
equal or greater absurdity.
Accounts of miracles are not by any means to be reject
ed. On the contrary, when the Bible is seen to be of
divine origin, then it must be regarded in two aspects,
first, as the revelation to man of divine truth, and, second,
as the account of the discipline, by means of which men
were made capable of receiving this revelation. Now it
cannot fairly be questioned, that in both these respects
miracles had their necessary use. No one can affirm, that
miracles could nave been dispensed with, in the divine
plan of imparting to the human race that truth, the ap
prehension and practical reception of which by man in
volved no less than a radical and complete change of his
nature. It will be observed that all miracles were of a
character adapted to one or the other, or to both, of these
two offices. They served to impress the revelation of
spiritual truth upon the minds of men, and they consti
tuted, at first, a chief means of the education, that has
gradually, though as yet only partially, been enabling men
to receive this revelation. The greatest of all miracles
was involved in the very nature of the revelation itself.
Thus the antecedent probability is wholly in favor of the
truth of the miracles recorded in the Bible. We, there
fore, readily yield our assent to the overwhelming evi
dence presented in support of all the most important of
these ; while belief in others, not so amply witnessed, but
having the same general character and tendency, is also
accorded without hesitation. In their abnormal condi
tion, men could not see the infinite manifestations of the
divine presence and goodness, in the midst of which they
live and move and have their being. So, for these great
purposes, manifestations of this presence and goodness
were given to them which they could see. This seems to
be the reasonable philosophy of miracles.
But the account that we are now considering has no
characteristic of a miracle. On the contrary, it presents
a strong contrast to all miracles in this vital respect. It in-

145
volves an inconceivable waste of energy, a disproportion
of means to end that language has no power to express.
Now, the direct opposite of this is the uniform character
istic of miracles, and if it were not so no observer of the
action of God in nature could recognize them as having
been performed by Him. In no miracle is there ever shown
the least prodigality. We may admit that God could be
wasteful, but He never is. Waste is a,t variance with the
uniform conduct of God in nature. In miracles results
are often, and indeed generally made to follow from causes
that to us seem insufficient; but the contrary, never.
In this account, however, the earth is in effect said to
have been arrested in its revolution about a whole day, in
order that Israelites might be able to pursue their enemies,
the Amorites, and to have been put in motion again after
the slaughter of them was ended. Not only so, but, more
over, all this is related to have been done by a God who
could have destroyed the Amorites with a breath, and
after His actual destruction of them by hail-stones had
been completed.
The Roman Church denounced the Copernican theory,
and compelled Galileo, whether by torture or by threat of)
torture is unknown and is immaterial, to abjure this-4ier-
esy ; because this theory rendered necessary the cessation
of the motion of the earth on its axis, in order that the
sun should have stood still upon Gibeon, and the moon in
the valley of Ajalon. The truth of the Copernican theory
has been established. The impossibility of supposing the
motion of the earth to have been arrested is confessed by
everybody. Theologians now suppose that the assumed
miracle consisted in the appearances and effect with re
spect to light, of the sun and moon standing still. This
certainly proves one thing, namely, that scientific men do
not have a monopoly of absurd suppositions in support of
pet theories. This supposition does not help the matter
much. It involves two things, namely, the putting out of
the. appearances of the sun and moon where they were.
and creating those appearances where they were not.
Now, it is not possible for any mind that is able to form
the least conception of what this account involves, in any

146
way in which it can be regarded, to believe in its truth for
an instant.
All solicitude on this subject ought, however, to be re
moved from the minds of believers in the divine authority
of the Bible, by the remarkable declaration that is con
tained in this account itself. The account contains this
sentence: "Is not this written in the book of Jasher?"
Theologians generally overlook this sentence. In their
eagerness to believe in the account, as a statement of what
really took place, they discuss it as if no such sentence was
contained in it. Yet there it stands. And it solves the
problem. It removes all difficulty. The book of Jasher
is directly appealed to as the authority for the statement.
What was the book of Jasher ? The Bible contains one
other allusion to this book, and beyond these two refer
ences we do not know anything about it. Four hundred
years after this event David lamented over Saul and Jon
athan. Preceding the record of this lamentation a
verse is introduced relating that he bade them teach the
children of Judah the use of the bow, and adding, in strik
ing similarity to the sentence now under consideration,
" Behold, it is written in the book of Jasher." These two
sentences are all that we know about this book. But they
are enough. They declare, so clearly, "that he may run
that readeth it," that this story did not form any part of
the contemporaneous record of the event, but that it was
a fable interpolated into the account certainly more than
four hundred years afterwards.
No reference to this supposed miracle is found in the
New Testament. The absence of any allusion to it in
the Psalms is itself almost conclusive evidence that this
remarkably sublime description could not have existed
when they were composed. The Old Testament contains
two allusions to it — one, quite vague, in Isaiah, and one
more definite in Habakkuk. But these prophets lived
from 350 to 450 years after David.
The interpolation of this fable into the original rec
ord is not only declared, it is also obvious on a careful
reading of the passage. The narrative of the event is
clearly finished before this story is introduced. Immedi
ately preceding it we read the statement of the actual

147
divine interposition, and of the overthrow and destruction
of the Amorites by hailstones. This recital is evidently
concluded, with the general summing up, "they were
more which died with hailstones than they whom the
children of Israel slew with the sword." Clearly this con
clusion could not have been arrived at until the final re
sults had been ascertained. After this, and in a manner
completely disconnected, this fable is introduced, with the
declaration of its origin. , If the three verses that contain
it be omitted, the account stands continuous and com
plete. It has seemed important to present what appears to be
the clear truth of this matter, because the impossibility of
accepting this account as anything but a fable, coupled,
as it is, with the general refusal of theologians to admit
any distinction between it and authentic accounts of mir
acles, produces a very bad effect indeed. These two things
together operate strongly to lead multitudes of sincere
minds to reject all accounts of miracles, and thus all belief
in the inspiration of the Bible. Theologians who have
seen the truth in this matter clearly enough have not
deemed it judicious to declare it. No greater mistake, in
this age of stubborn inquiry, could possibly be made.
Moreover, in any candid consideration of the question of
the inspired truth ot the Bible, the correct presentation of
this prominent matter is a clear duty, and is not. to be
evaded. It should, however, be noted, that the real occa
sion for surprise is, not that one-such trace of the igno
rance of the age, and of its disposition to endo w with su
pernatural powers the heroes of its remote past, should
have found its way into this record, but rather that this
should be the only one. The fact that the Bible is not
crowded with these fables, as other accounts of heroic
ages are, is one that seems to admit of only a single ex
planation. It is to be observed, that in the Bible the subject of
physical phenomena is not avoided, but on the contrary,
and especially in the poetical portions, these phenomena are
frequently dwelt upon, and that in language that is correct,
and is of a character always so elevated, and often so
sublime, as to stand in marked contrast with all other

148
compositions, even to the present day. I wish here to re
vert to the fact, and to dwell more particularly upon it,
that the discoveries of science, and the consequent en
largement of the conceptions and comprehension of men,
have been required, before the real meaning and force of
much of this language in the Bible could, in any proper
degree, be apprehended. Science thus compels us to de
clare respecting much of the language of the Bible, that
it could not have had its real origin in the minds of men
The fact is one that commands our attention, that the
most exalted intellect can find no language so fit as that
of the Bible, in which to express the emotions that are
kindled by the contem plation of these overwhelming
physical truths. This language has been found uniformly
consistent with, and expressive of, the highest conceptions
that men can form, respecting the physical creation, as
well as respecting God as its Creator, and, in each of these
respects, to be beyond all measure above that of any other
composition. There is yet a deeper reason for the satisfaction that is
derived from the language of the Bible, in its references
to physical phenomena. The Bible is the only book in
which these phenomena are referred directly to God, and
are described as being His personal acts. All other books
are written in phenomenal language. Apparently they
must be so. We seem to be shut up to the philosophy of
appearances, and to be under the necessity of describing
all operations and events iu nature, as if they were self •
directed. We have, however, intuitive feelings that rebel
against this necessity. These feelings have doubtless led
to the fiction of nature and her works. The real satisfac
tion that is felt in reading the language of the Bible, in
which God is himself presented to us as the everywhere
present actor in physical phenomena, arises, undoubtedly,
in a great degree, from our recognition of its truth in
this respect.
The preceding observations are sufficient to render ap
parent the singular agreement of the Bible with physical
truth, and with the revelation of God in nature. We now
pass to consider another phase of the general harmony be-

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tween the Bible and truth as this is taught in nature, as
well as in the human conscience.
Mankind have not only progressed in knowledge since
the Bible was written, they have also made an advance in
humanity. The Israelites represented fully the best de
velopment of the race in this respect in their day. But
they were originally a semi-barbarous and cruel people.
The lex talionis was their unwritten law, precisely as it
was among the North American Indians. Revenge was
their cardinal virtue. The amelioration of this law of
vengeance was one object of their great lawgiver.
It is startling to read, in the earliest writings of this
people, the question recorded as asked by God himself, of
the first man related to have been born into the world; a
question that searches out the fundamental principles of
human relations, and the meaning of which we are only
now beginning to realize. Our wonder is increased when
we read the command, that at the very first was given to
the selfish and contentious Israelites, evidently not for
themselves alone, but through them to the human race
forever, "Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." And
in order that no place should be left for doubt as to the
meaning of these words "thy neighbor," that no excuse
should be found for treating them as words of limitation,
the commands were added: " Love ye therefore the stran
ger." " The stranger that dwelleth with you shall be as
one born among you, and thou shalt love him as thyself;
for ye were strangers in the land of Egypt."
This command, addressed directly to the motive to all
right action, the general and comprehensive command,
out of which all particular commands, to govern the con
duct of men in all their relations and intercourse, proceed,
as necessary corollaries, was thus given to men long be
fore they could feel or sympathize with its spirit. Many
centuries were to pass before the great expounder and ex
emplar of this command should arise, to enforce and to
illustrate it. And even then, after so long a time, how
little advance in humanity had been made by men, com
pared with that which yet remained to be accomplished.
Even since the advent of the Christ, the leaven has worked
very slowly, so that it would be absurd to say that, at this

150
present day, the most Christian nations, as a whole, have
made much progress towards the full obedience to the
command, " love ye the stranger as thyself."
There remained, however, a height of spiritual beneficent
activity above this, that was to be revealed by the Christ,
in the further command, "Love your enemies." This is
a natural command. By a natural command is meant one
that is inherent in the nature of things, and which spiri
tual beings, in their normal state, spontaneously and nec
essarily obey. With natural commands of a physical
nature we are familiar. These are commands to use our
various senses and organs for the purposes for which each
one was given us. We obey these commands in seeing,
hearing, walking, and so on without end. In like manner
the command to universal love is a command that the
spirit in its normal condition was formed to obey, pre
cisely as it was formed to see. Love is the response that
such a spirit makes to any antagonism, whatever may be
the form of its expression ; or rather, it is the uniform
mode of normal spiritual activity, that cannot be affected
by external conditions. Obedience to this command to
universal love, the expression of normal spiritual activity,
was to be shown in the life and death of Him by whom the
command was given. This manifestation of that nature
to which this is a natural command remains an example
to the human race forever.
Now every one, in the depths of his consciousness, rec
ognizes the fact, that the command to universal love,
given in the Bible, is the verbal expression of natural law.
It agrees with physical law, or the uniform conduct of
God, which is the manifestation of his love to all creatures
alike, to the just and the unjust, to the evil and the good.
The Bible alone presents this harmony. We perceive
that it must have been given to men by the same Being,
from whom the natural command to universal love has
proceeded, and in whose conduct it is illustrated. This
law needed to be declared to men. God only could declare
it. Therefore the Book in which it is declared is the word
of God.
We come now to a still higher test respecting the divine
origin of the Bible. This has been seen to declare the true

151
relation existing between man and man, and to reveal the
motive that in their normal spiritual state would govern
the conduct of men towards their fellow men. But if the
Bible be from God it must also declare the relation be
tween man and God. Here we encounter evidence of the
divine origin of the Bible that is of a singularly impressive
character. We have seen that the Bible is in harmony
with nature in declaring the existence of one unseen God.
But it does far more than this. It declares the attributes
of God, which are found, first, to be in harmony with his
attributes as exhibited in nature, although men had been
blind to this exhibition of them, and second, to be directly
opposed to the universal and fanatical belief of the Jews
themselves. He is declared to be the universal Father, in
finite in love, and therefore, in the same degree which is
beyond degree, in mercy and forgiveness ; and with whom
every soul, throughout all the nations of the earth, has the
same intimate l'elations. Out of these relations there
springs one single natural command. To this command
the Bible, if it be the word of God , must give expression.
That command which man, in his normal state, would
necessarily obey, as the free and spontaneous act of his
rejoicing being, just as he obeys every command that grows
out of his relation to the physical creation by putting
forth his activity in every form for which his organs were
given to him, that supreme command must also have its
expression here.
We ask for it, and the answer comes : " Thou shalt love
the Lord thy God, with all thy heart, and with all thy
soul, and with all thy might. " * We bow our heads, for we
know that we are listening to the voice of the God of
nature. Expressing the relation that really exists between
man and his Maker, but which was never conceived of by
him, as existing between himself and any deity of his own
creation ; and given with a comprehensiveness and an en
ergy of repetition that befit its transcendent consequence,
and exceed that of any other form of words that ever was
uttered in the ear of man, this command, that seems to
ring through the earth and the heavens, could only have
come from Him who had created man in His own image.
But even another test remains. What would the God
Deut. 6: 5.

152
of nature, the Being of infinite and universal and change
less love, do with respect to man in his abnormal con
dition ? Would the God that gives the sunshine and the
rain leave man in the condition in which, however he
reached it, he is incapable of recognizing the existence of
the Being whose nature he does not share and so cannot
conceive, a condition in which he feels no impulse to obey,
but on the contrary feels every impulse to disobey, the
command to universal love, that condition in which, to
consider it merely in its negative aspect, that cannot be
disputed, he is dead to all the happiness that flows from
communion with infinite love' ? Is there any way of rescu
ing man from the fearful plight of a perverted nature, of
making his hateful spirit lovely, that the God who cares
for his physical being with such inconceivable provision
could hesitate to adopt ?
The crowning evidence that the Bible is the word of the
God of nature is found in the answer that it makes to this
question. In the supreme revelation there given of the
love of God to man, in the purpose that is declared in the
sacrifice on the cross, and in the change in the nature of
our race, proceeding in the gradual manner that marks
all the operations of v God, which change we witness in its
progress, obviously as the consequence of that sacrifice,
and in the accomplishment of that purpose, we recognize
again, beyond all possibility of doubt, the harmony be
tween the verbal and the physical revelations of God.
It is sometimes made a ground of objection to the Bible,
that it contains many mysteries. If it were a human pro
duction this would not be the case. In this feature we
find another respect in which a close likeness appears
between the Bible and the physical creation. Both have
depths that we cannot explore. Just here we would
naturally look in the Bible, if we assume it to be true, for
a special likeness to nature. We observe that in nature,
however little may be revealed to us, still that l'ttle is just
what we need to know, and is all that we need to know.
However much is hidden from us, still nothing is hidden,
the knowledge of which is essential, or could contribute,
to our present uses and happiness. We would expect to
find the same to be the case with the Bible. This expecta-

153
tion will not be disappointed. All the mysteries, and these
are many and deep, which are presented to us in the Bible,
are for us only matters of curious speculation. All truth
that is necessary to be known and received by us, that can
in any way affect our present and future welfare and
happiness, is set before us in clear and strong light. This
fact is not affected by the disposition of men to contend
about the former, and to neglect the latter because they
afford no opportunity for contention.
Referring again to the remarkable character of the
language of the Bible, it is to be observed, that the lan
guage which is most surely recognized by the Christian as
being the very words of God is that which expresses,
under so many forms, the supreme truths, of the infinite
tenderness of the love of God to all men, of the personal
relation that exists between the soul of man and God, and
of the possible and ultimate complete unity of the human
with the divine nature. As it was observed with respect
to the physical descriptions and allusions in the Bible, that
their meaning grows with each increase of our knowledge,
and each enlargement of our conceptions, so, in an emi
nent degree, is it the case with the language that we are
now considering. The comprehension and enjoyment of
this language by us depends entirely for its degree upon
the development of universal love in our souls. This lan
guage has no interest or meaning for the human spirit in
its abnormal state. It grows more expressive just as the
spirit becomes more responsive to infinite love. It is equal
to every demand. In it every longing finds its satisfaction,
and trust its complete expression.
I cannot avoid repeating, as especially applicable to this
subject, the thought with which the last paper was con
cluded. The absurdity of any expression of opinion re
specting the language of the Bible by those who can
see nothing in it, and of opposing any argument whatever
against the experimental knowledge of its preciousness,
ought to be sufficiently obvious.
Other features of the harmony between the Bible and
nature will present themselves, when we come to consider
the subjects of faith and suffering and prayer. The facts
already observed, however, sufficiently warrant the con-

154

elusion, that the Bible is in harmony with the revelations
made in the physical creation, and that it supplements
these revelations; that to the soul that is able to receive
it, and just in the degree in which the soul is- able to re
ceive it, the Bible completes and consummates the revela
tion of the infinite love of God.

155

PERFECTION.

The purpose of the last paper was to point out some
features of the agreement or harmony^ that exists between
the Bible and the physical modes of revelation, or what
may be embraced in" the general expression, "the nature of
things. " An additional illustration of this harmony is
afforded in the identical standard of conduct that is fixed
by each. The fitness of mechanical science for exhibiting
this harmony is also illustrated here. A common standard
of conduct that transcends human experience, affords an
other and a very impressive proof, that the Bible has pro
ceeded from the same Infinite Being who is manifested in
the nature of things.
In mechanical science there has been revealed to man
the actual standard of excellence, which is perfection.
From the very nature of the case, this is the only standard
that can be recognized in mechanics ; for if it be not, then
where, on the the sliding scale of imperfection, shall the
standard be set ? This standard is, to be sure, a purely
theoretical one, unattainable by man in practice. None
are so deeply conscious of this, as are they whose efforts
have enabled them to approach most nearly to it. The
more highly educated the mechanical sense becomes, the
more obvious the fact appears, that perfection is the only
standard that can in reality exist. This standard admits
of no compromise with imperfection. Its claims admit of
no argument in their support. To the mind that is capa
ble of perceiving them they are self-evident.
It is to be observed, also, that this standard in mechanics
could not have been originated by man. Man has needed
to be educated up to it, by the slow process of mechanical
revelation. This bare statement would doubtless be dis
puted by some. It forms an important link in my argu
ment. It is therefore necessary that its correctness shall
be established. The fact is, those who would question
this statement would do so only because they do not know
what it means. In advance of any mechanical education,

156
men generally will say, honestly enough, that every one
ought to aim at perfection in mechanical work. But they
mean by this word something that is attainable, and often
easily attainable, and with which theyr would be completely
satisfied. They do not mean the real standard of excel
lence, but only their own imaginary standard, the best
they can themselves form an idea of. It would be idle to
talk to them about anything more exacting. They would
only reply : "What do you want of anything any better
than that ? "
It is difficult to realize how gradually, and in what
a large degree, the idea of mechanical truth has grown
in the minds of men, as the result of education. I
saw in practical use in the city of Oporto, a few years
ago, the following method .that was then employed in
that city for signalling each day the hour of noon. A
cannon was planted in an opening in the tower of a
church. The hammer was held up by a string. As the
rays of the sun appeared past an angle of the wall, they
were focalized on the string by a lens and burned it in
two, when the hammer fell and the gun was fired. If it
were a cloudy day, or if for any reason the cannon failed
to be fired within a reasonable time, it was the duty of a
priest to go up the church-tower and cut the string, or
make the hammer to strike by hand. I saw nothing pro
duced in the same city that appeared to be more nearly
round than the wheels of the carts, that were hewn out of
planks with the axe.
Thus a consideration of what the mechanically unedu
cated or partially educated mind intends, when it employs
the term "perfection" in a mechanical sense establishes
the truth of our proposition. It is now obvious enough,
that, in its real sense of absolute truth unattainable by
finite endeavor, perfection is a standard that has needed
to be revealed to man, and that by slow degrees.
The educated mechanic stands amazed when he beholds
everywhere in nature the actual realization of this ideal
perfection. This great subject can only be alluded to here.
In the following paper it will be briefly considered, and a
few of its inummerable lessons be presented.
One who has become familiar with the existence of this

157
necessary standard of mechanical excellence reads with a
peculiar sensation the blazing command of the Christ:
"Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in
heaven is perfect. " Here the same unattainable standard
is set. The mere command: " Be ye therefore perfect," if
it stopped there, would have left every one to set his own
imaginary standard, and to be satisfied with his own at-
attainment. But it would not have declared the true
standard, the only real standard of conduct. This is set
beyond all doubt or cavil in the added words, "even as
your Father which is in heaven is perfect." We observe
with gladness that this was not a new command, first
uttered by the Christ, although it was given by him with
more unmistakable distinctness and emphasis than it had
received before; but, as in the case of the command to
love our neighbor, this also had been declared of old.
Now the mind to whom the real standard of mechanical
excellence has been revealed cannot fail to see, and to rea
lize vividly, the fact, that this command to spiritual ex
cellence was not, and could not be from man. To such a
mind this command appears as the expression of the
universal standard of absolute truth, in its application
to spiritual beings; as the very same command that the
mechanic hears respecting all his work.
An essential unity pervades all physical and spiritual
existence. There is one law for both. Truth is a univer
sal quality, not admitting of degrees, that in the nature of
things is demanded in both these forms of being alike.
Indeed, truth in physical expression is only the manifesta
tion of truth previously existing in spiritual being. The
degree of approach to the former is determined entirely by
the degree of conformity to absolute truth that has been
reached by the latter. This every engineer understands
full well In the declaration of this standard of spiritual
excellence, he recognizes, therefore, the voice of the giver
of all being. In the command itself he recognizes a uni
versal expression. "As your Father in heaven is perfect"
is the only real standard of all excellence. This is illus
trated in all the works of creation. It is revealed to man
as the standard by which all his physical work is to be
measured. And now in the only possible way, through

158
human speech, it is declared in its application to moral
beings. Thus perfection is presented to us, everywhere, and in
all ways, as the essence of the divine nature, and as the
law of all worthy activity, the goal of all human endeavor,
both in our relations to physical and to spiritual being. As
there could be no other physical standard, so there could
be no other spiritual standard. But neither the one nor
the other could have been originated by man. Man could
not give expression to a standard of spiritual excellence,
any more than he could express a standard of physical ex
cellence, that is beyond his power to conceive. Both these
must have proceeded from the same infinite source.

159

NATURAL RELIGION.

I have endeavored to show that the being of God is a
fact, that can be revealed only as love, and can be recog
nized only by love; that this highest of all truths can
not be reached by inferior modes of our spiritual activity,
but demands for its apprehension the exercise of the high
est of all the forms of this activity. If I have been suc
cessful in this endeavor, then it will be obvious that it is a
misnomer to call Natural Theology a science. This so-
called science claims to be a method of demonstrating to
the understanding the existence of God, by evidence drawn
from His works. In other words, it is an attempt to do
that which in the nature of things cannot be done. This
"science "is in fact only a human contrivance, designed
on wrong or imaginary principles, and therefore one which
must be mischievous in its operation.
If we will imagine the children of a wratch maker, study
ing a watch, in order to find evidence of the existence of
their father, who has been before their eyes and treating
them with unspeakable tenderness all their lives, we will
have the case exactly. If we will conceive that, while all
this has been true respecting the father, still the children,
under the influence of some strange spell, remain in igno
rance of his being; that while, in helpless dependence upon
him, they are carried in his bosom, and are the objects of
his love and care in an inconceivable degree, still all the
knowledge they can get respecting him is that he made
that watch, and a great many other mechanical con
trivances, we will have the sum of what can be found out
about God by the method of natural theology, or by fol
lowing the poet's advice, and endeavoring to "look
through nature up to nature's God."
This so-called science was a natural product of the mind
at a certain stage of its growth. There has been a long
period during which all the relations of the soul of man to
God have been regarded as being primarily the subjects of
the human understanding. Our emotional nature, our

160
real spiritual being, has been treated by theologians with
but little more regard than it has been by men of science.
The highest form of our mental or spiritual activity has
been neglected, and its great office, as the direct and ex
clusive medium for the revelation to us of the highest
truth, has been ignored. The clear light of infinite truth
has moreover been obscured and distorted by transmission
through human media. The words of men have been
substituted in place of the revelation of God, to an almost
incredible extent. Prominence, in some cases almost ex
clusive, has been given to every form of doctrine that could
be made to harmonize most nearly with the narrow and
selfish and vindictive natures of men, and that could hide
most effectually the infinite and universal and changeless
love of God, as this love is revealed in the Bible and in
nature. The imagined omnipotent faculty of the reason has been
exalted as the infallible guide to truth. Theologians have
been trained to rely on severe processes of thought, and the
fact that these processes led different minds to contradic
tory conclusions was powerless to show them the absurdity
of this reliance. The religious mind was fitted into vari
ous systems of human contriving, and was fed on formu
las and propositions and demonstrations and deductions,
the confidence of men in which only showed the narrow
ness of their conceptions. Everything else was made subor
dinate to those questions on which men differed, and about
which, therefore, they could contend.
All this naturally culminated in the supposition that the
being and nature of God Himself came so far within the
grasp of our comprehension, as properly to be made the
subjects of human reasoning. On these points of doctrine
warring views were held, and men gratified their ferocious
propensities by killing each other for holding them. What
rivers of blood have been caused to flow, because that
men, while agreeing in the fundamental error of holding
God to be the subject of human comprehension, have
differed in their conclusions respecting Him !
Minds that were educated in those schools of thought
could of course have no perception of the absurdity of
the system of natural theology. Its deductions were of a

161
nature essentially similar to those to which they were ac
customed. These deductions were reached by methods of
the same exclusively intellectual character, as the processes
of thought in the use of which they had been educated.
Both arrived at the conception of a purely imaginary
divinity. The living God, the God of the Bible and of
nature, who can only be revealed to the spirit that loves
its neighbor as itself, was equally hidden from both.
By a process quite insensible, and aided by influences
which, like force, are discernible only in their effects, the
mind of the more advanced portions of our race has for a
long time been outgrowing this infantile stage. The true
nature of religion is coming to be better perceived. Har
mony of the natures of individual men with the nature
of God, in love, is seen, more and more distinctly, to
constitute its sole essence.
The merely intellectual nature, with its beliefs about
what is utterly beyond its comprehension, is being
dethroned from its usurped supremacy ; and the emo
tional nature, and the conduct as determined by the
affections, are coming to be accorded their rightful place.
The real progress of civilization and Christianization,
which in their essence are one and the same thing, is seen
in the greater relative importance that men attach to
those deeper verities about which it is not possible for
them to contend.
Under these changing conditions of religious life, it is
not at all a matter of surprise that the methods and the
deductions of natural theology should, at the present day,
receive far less attention than they once commanded.
Their unsatisfactory nature is, in fact, very generally felt,
even by those to whom this science has been carefully
taught. This is a cheering indication. It is, indeed, high
time that natural theology, that seeks in nature for
evidences of the being of God, whom the soul has not
"spiritually discerned," should give place to natural
religion, that in everything in nature recognizes with
adoration the active manifestation of that love which has
been revealed through its likeness to the image formed in
the spirit ; that sees exhibited all about it, in an infinite
degree, the universal love that it feels. It is high time

162
that the works of God should be studied again in the
spirit of the Psalms. The disposition of religious thought,
that even yet prevails under the benumbing influence
of our scientific education, to regard with little concern
the mighty religious influences by which we are in fact
enveloped, is matter for profound astonishment.
When God has been revealed within the spirit, in the
only possible way, by the recognition of love, and is then
seen to fill the universe with his presence ; when the glad
soul, in its freedom, finds itself a participant in the
harmony of the creation, in which nothing exists for
itself, but all things are in ceaseless activity for beneficent
purposes ; then, indeed, the study of the love of God in
its physical manifestations, so far as our limited powers
enable us to pursue it, becomes unquestionably the most
satisfactory of all mental occupations.
In this study we are not seeking after evidences of the
being of God. Far from it. The spirit has already found
rest and peace in the certain recognition of this supreme
truth. No question respecting the being of God can
disturb it, or can even enter its consciousness. But the
spirit delights to come more consciously into the presence
of God, to see his glory revealed to it, so far as it can
endure the sight, and, while lost in wonder at the wisdom
and the skill that his works display, to adore the love
which it beholds animating and directing the whole. In
this study we admire, also, the evidence that God has
created us in His own image. He has given to us the in
telligence by which we are, in some degree, however small,
able to understand the divine methods of operation, and
ourselves, though at so great a distance, to employ similar
methods, and to exercise similar skill. This is a fact
which affords corroborative evidence of the strongest
character in support of the truth of the perception of all
spiritual realities by recognition. To this evidence atten
tion will shortly be invited.
Although, in any proper view of the works of God, the
wisdom and skill which these works display are obscured
by the brighter light of the Divine love, or, to drop the
figure, although the former can have little of real interest
for us, except in the degree in which the latter is revealed,

163
and then the beneficent purpose manifest in everything
must occupy the supreme place in the thought, still it will
conduce to clearness of apprehension, if we separate these
in our mind for a little time, and observe the former alone,
so far as possible without regard to the omnipresent
motive. We have been so constituted that, when once the Infi
nite Mind has been recognized, we then perceive intui
tively that the creation must have emanated from that
mind, and must be the manifestation or expression of it.
The philosophy of this perception is very simple. We
reason from ourselves. We observe our own process of me
chanical construction. In a subordinate sense, man is
himself a creator. His creation has a uniform order, from
which no variation is conceivable. That order is this :
First, he forms in his mind the idea. This mental concep
tion is for him a real spiritual entity, which he beholds in
his " mind's eye " as distinctly, as though it were sensible
to his touch. Afterwards he produces its material coun
terpart, which cannot vary from the original in his
thought, ' ' even by the estimation of a hair." The thought
grows or changes in his mind. Corresponding develop
ment or change is demanded in the visible duplicate or
representation of it. When completed, his work stands
before him merely as his embodied thought. Whatever
the nature of his creation may be, and whether it be
simple or complicated in any degree, in all cases alike the
form, the adaptation to its use, the function of every part,
the relations of the several parts to each other, all these
together, constitute the material realization of his idea,
the expression of his purpose, the visible representation of
his thoughts, of his whole spiritual nature, so far as the
work affords opportunity for such representation to be
made. Thus in our own creative work we find that all
possibility of material existence is determined and limited
by the pre-existent thought and purpose in our minds.
This uniform order of creation is familiar in all our expe
rience. We cannot conceive of any other. Analogy com
pels us, from this uniform experience, to draw the uni-
veral conclusion : First in the order of being must be a
mind. In this mind the thought must be perfected.

164
Afterwards only can material existence come to be, as the
embodiment of such thought.
This uniform order of creation is to be observed in every
thing. The voice cannot even produce a tone, until this
tone has been formed in the mind, and has been heard by
the mental ear ; and just as this mental tone is true or un
true, firm or uncertain, so precisely will its audible coun
terpart be. But this order finds its most complete illustra
tion in the endlessly varied applications of mechanical
science to the uses of man. These applications constitute
one of the distinguishing glories of civilization. Since
everything in nature has more than a single use, and often
multiplied uses for the same thing are known to us, it is a
reasonable supposition that mechanical science has also its
uses, beyond and above all these material applications.
A leading object of these papers has been to trace some of
these spiritual uses . We now find ourselves face to face
with another and an important one. Mechanical science
exhibits the whole philosophy of the perception of spiritual
realities by recognition. It shows how it is possible for us
to have any realities, that are not of a nature to be re
vealed to us through our physical organs merely, placed
before our very eyes continually, obvious to those who
can recognize them by their resemblance to images
already formed in their consciousness, but absolutely
hidden from those who can form no such recognition, and
also beyond the power of words to convey the knowledge
of them, except so far as the words can revive in conscious
ness images that had been previously formed.
In a moving machine the uninstructed mind sees parts
in motion merely, and this is all that it can see. TJae
mechanically instructed mind, on the contrary, in a degree
precisely proportionate to the depth of its own insight, sees
that which produces and determines every motion, and
the object and effect of every motion, and the forces, static
and dynamic, that are exerted, or that are developed, in
every part of the machine, to produce or to resist motion.
This perception varies with each individual, and no finite
mind ever possessed that complete insight that would en
able it to recognize every force that is exerted in even the
most simple moving machine.

165
Thus we find it to be the case respecting force, in these
various modes of its manifestation, that if images corres
ponding sufficiently to these modes of manifestation have
not already been formed in our consciousness, then we can
not recognize these manifestations of force, we are dead
to their existence. But if these are already familiar ob
jects to us, then we look within the material forms, and
recognize their presence.
So, if we were not ourselves capable of mechanical con
struction, we could not recognize mechanical construction
in the works of God. If we possessed no mechanical skill
ourselves, mechanical skill in the universe would be shown
to us in vain. All things wrould possess no more signifi
cance for us than the cuneiform inscriptions do. We would
see only shapes that had no meaning. These shapes be
come informed for us with thoughts, only because we our
selves can inform material shapes with thoughts.
It is also to be observed that if this likeness exists in our
consciousness, we must recognize it. If our own con
sciousness furnishes an analogous reality, then the mani
festation of the constructive thought, purpose and skill
cannot be presented to us without instant recognition.
We at once look within the material form, and behold the
spiritual reality that is manifested.
Thus mechanical science gives us the key to all spiritual
perception. Beyond mere material forms, we see without
only that which we recognize, because the same thing
already exists within ourselves. If we are ourselves
skilled workmen, and nothing else, then we can see in the
physical universe only the skilled workman. If we are
chemists and nothing more, creation is for us the uni
versal laboratory of the infinite chemist. If we are merely
mathematicians, we can form no conception associated
with anything that we see except a mathematical concep
tion. So far as they go, these conceptions would all be
correct. The fault with them is that they are only partial
and subordinate conceptions. But every moral being is
capable of something more than being a skilled workman,
or a chemist, or a mathematician. He is capable, also, of
the feeling of love in endless degree of development, and
of perceiving the fact, that this feeling of love is the sole

166
foundation of all worthy character and conduct. Just in
the degree that this feeling exists, by the same necessity,
the universe is seen to be animated by love. This is God,
and thus only through the necessary recognition of love,
can he be revealed to man.
A little incident, that became invested with both a sweet
and a mournful interest, will help us to see more clearly
the line between the revelation of God and the deductions
of natural theology. In the summer of 1882, travelling one
evening on the steamboat Bristol, I spent a few minutes
in looking through the window in the saloon at the engine,
While thus occupied, I heard an exclamation of delight
near me, and turning I saw a girl of 17 or 18 years,
attended by a gentleman, and gazing with rapture on the
ponderous machinery. I was instantly arrested by her
appearance, and thought I had never seen so spiritual an
expression. Her face was luminous, and riveted my sight.
After watching the movements of the great engine in
silence for some time, she slowly exclaimed, as if to her
self, unconscious of any other presence, "only to think of
the mind— that could plan all that !" The next morning
I read in a Boston journal the telegraphic announcement
of the death of Erastus W. Smith, the designer of the
engines of the Bristol, and so the last one of the long
line of discoverers and inventors and designers, whose
minds had successively helped to " plan all that."
Here the intelligence of this remarkable young person
had penetrated to, and her whole thought was absorbed
by, the only spirituality that the case could present to her,
and that was, the mind that could plan what was to her so
wonderful. A mechanical expert would, of course, see
mnch more than this. In a degree corresponding with
the degree of his own skill and experience, he would see
the functions of the various parts of the mechanism, and
the adaptation of each part to its purpose. He would per
ceive the operations that must go on out of sight, in order
that visible action should take place. Each of these things,
and many others, would be recognized by the expert, just
so far as corresponding images had previously been formed
in his mind.
All this was, of course, entirely beyond the girl's per-

167 .
ception. She had never had formed in her consciousness
images that would enable her to recognize any of these
features. She had only a vague and wondering idea of
the intelligence that would enable a mind to "plan all
that." About this mind two things are to be noted : First,
the conclusion is not warranted that it could do anything
else except this. Probably it could not do any other thing
so well. Second, the perception of this mind does not sug
gest the idea of any personal relation whatever between it
and the admirer of its work. No thought or feeling arises
of love or faith or worship. The suggestion of such senti
ments is seen to be utterly incongruous.
This illustrates the failure of natural theology, and re
veals its cause. This miscalled science employs a wrong
method, or rather it is a wrong method. It is as if a man
should begin at the top to build a house. The method of
natural theology is utterly powerless to create in the spirit
the activity of universal love. It can therefore give to us
no perception of God, the being animated by infinite
love, and with whom we have personal relations. The
Bible teaches us that the activity of universal love, that
form of our spiritual activity by which we are able to
recognize God, is a divine gift. Natural theology, on the
contrary, assumes that without the employment of this
gift, the knowledge of God can be attained by a process of
reasoning. It is a human method taught by men, in op
position to the divine method.
I have insensibly been led back to the further discussion
of natural theology; but will now endeavor to adhere to the
especial line of observations that, I have proposed, and to
present in a brief form a few illustrations of the wisdom
and skill that fill the universe.
When God has been revealed in the spirit, then it is
true that all education is a help, and a very great help,
to the recognition of his presence. There are two obser
vations of a general nature, that are calculated to make
an especially deep impression on the mind of the engineer,
on account of the education that he has received. The
first of these observations is — creation without a mistake!
This great fact cannot arrest the attention of others in the
same degree. Indeed the mass of mankind are inclined

168
rather to pass it idly by, as a thing of course. But the
engineer becomes acquainted with the slow and painful
growth of mechanical thoughts in finite minds. He is
familiar with the constant mistakes that mark the pro
gress of every mechanical invention from its rude incep
tion to its successful use. He knows moreover that per
fection is never reached by man; that the detection of
defects in any human work is only a question of depth of
insight. He is aware that, while any single mind always
finds its resources exhausted, and for that reason can
often see nothing wanting in its work, still improvements
perpetually suggest themselves to fresh explorers. Words
cannot convey an idea of the indescribable sensation of
awe with which such a mind contemplates the perfection
that it sees exhibited throughout the mechanism of the
creation. The second of these observations is this : In human
mechanical constructions simplicity is found to be a prime
necessity. This feature is the constant aim of every suc
cessful designer. Moreover, when the parts of any ma
chine are numerous, the disposition of them, so that they
may operate without interfering with each other, is
always a serious problem, and often it is one involving
grave difficulties. Now, when a mind familiar with this
experience contemplates what appears to it as the appall
ing complications which are necessarily involved in all
the structural works of the Creator, complications which,
commencing with the disposition and movements of the
heavenly bodies, extend throughout all being, and seem
greatest of all in the structure of the most minute organ
isms, and when he beholds everywhere perfect harmony
of structure and of operation, he cannot fail again to be
impressed by the sight in a degree that is not possible in
another mind not possessed of the same practical knowl
edge. He sees that in the works of God it is not neces
sary to sacrifice anything to simplicity. While in each
individual organization the number and the variety of
functions to be performed seem endless, the most direct
means for performing each one are always provided,
nothing is wanting that is required for any use, and
nothing is found to exist except for a use, and, however

169
massed together, every member of each separate system
performs its functions without interference from any
others. Although observations on this subject that are possible
here must be very superficial, since a lifetime may be
devoted to the study of a single organism, and even to a
single member or feature of an organism, still, even upon
such a general view, we cannot fail everywhere to behold
infinite intelligence in its omnipresent activity.
A few illustrations will be given, drawn from the circu
lations in nature, which may leave on our minds a deeper
impression of the harmony that everywhere prevails, as
this is especially seen, first, in the adaptation of each
thing to varied uses, and, second, in the cooperation of
various agencies for the accomplishment of a single pur
pose. The first one of these illustrations will be found in
THE CIRCULATION OF WATER.
Water presents the only form or combination of matter
in the fluid state that can support either vegetable or
animal life. The structure of every organism is adapted
to receive it, and every one is dependent upon it. Every
animal and every vegetable must drink or perish. The
presence and purity of this universal necessity are secured
by a continuous circulation, in which water, rising in an
invisible state from the whole surface of the earth, is
borne in the air, either in this state or in the form of
clouds, until, under certain unknown conditions, it is re
turned to the earth in rain or snow.
For the existence of water we are indebted to the
pressure of the atmosphere. If this were without weight
there could be no organic being. Organic being is depend
ent upon water, and water exists in a fluid state only
under pressure. Under the pressure of the atmosphere,
and at ordinary temperatures, water passes gradually into
the gaseous state. As the vapor that is formed by this
evaporation becomes cooled in the upper regions of the
atmosphere, a portion of it is condensed and forms clouds.
Here phenomena appear which science has not yet at
tempted to explain.
By this condensation minute drops of water are formed.

170
There is no intermediate state of this substance between
fluid water and the invisible elastic gas known as vapor
or steam. Clouds differ from lakes only in the minute
subdivision and separation of the particles of the water that
composes them. At the ordinary mean elevation of
clouds each one of the drops of water of which they con
sist is about one thousand times heavier than the air that
it displaces, and yet it does not fall, not even when frozen,
which is very often the case. By some means, also, the
particles of water in a cloud are kept at a uniform dis
tance from each other. When, under some unknown
change of conditions, these become united in larger drops,
the water descends to the earth to perform its innumerable
functions. Concerning the nature of the forces which operate to
determine the size of the minute particles of water that
are formed by the condensation of a portion of the uni
formly diffused vapor, which keep those particles at a dis
tance from each other, and which prevent them from fall
ing directly to the earth —the forces to the action of which
we are indebted for the formation of clouds — we are as
yet ignorant. We are in equal ignorance, also, of the
forces which determine the varied forms and dispositions
of the clouds themselves. No plausible theory even, of a
definite nature, has been advanced respecting the causes
of any of these phenomena.
Rising from the earth purified and invisible, revealing
itself in the heavens in forms of beauty, and thence de
scending to renew all life, water presents to us a perpetual
symbol. A general survey of some of the functions that water
performs and has performed, will show the important
part that was allotted to this familiar fluid in the scheme
of the world. By its means the earth has been made hab
itable. Infinite pains have been taken to transform the
original chaos of jagged igneous rocks, broken and heaped
by contraction and protrusion, into the beautiful world on
which we dwell; and water has been the medium, or the
essential agent employed in doing the whole work. The
extent of this work, and the time during which it has
been in progress, are shown in the facts, that, with the

171
.exception of occasional ejected masses, there remains no
original igneous rock on the surface of the earth, and the
strata of formations that have been effected through the
agency of water reaches to the known depth of twenty
miles. Water has carried in suspension, or has contained
in solution, has separated and pulverized by its motion,
and has compacted by its pressure, this entire mass of the
crust of the earth. It has been essential also to every
combining and cementing and crystallizing process. More
over, the alluvium in all its forms, gravel, clay, loam and
sand, desert and fertile ground alike, is the effect of the
action of water.
Water dissolves out of the soil all mineral substances that
are required in the formation of plants. In this state of
solution these substances are absorbed by the roots of
plants, and are conducted upward to their leaves, there to
enter into the combination with carbon, by which the
earth becomes clothed with the varied forms of vegetable
life. This union of mineral substances in solution with
carbon forms the chemical basis of all organic being, of
which being in all its forms, both vegetable and animal,
water constitutes also by far the larger part.
As water is the medium employed by the Infinite Intelli
gence by which nearly all chemical and physical changes on
the earth have been and are now being made, so also we find
it to be the medium given to man, to be employed by him,
in both its fluid and its gaseous states, for the conversion
of heat into every form of useful energy.
The ministry of water never ceases. Its change of state
is only a change of use. When mingled with the atmos
phere as an invisible vapor it has a new service allotted to
it. Now it wraps the earth with a protecting mantle,
to prevent the too rapid loss, by radiation into space, of the
heat received from the sun. The value of this service is
shown by the condition of lofty mountains, where the
action of the aqueous vapor in preventing this loss of heat
becomes less efficient. The mountain tops are covered
with eternal snow, in spite of the fact that the heat re
ceived by them from the sun is far greater than the
amount that is able to penetrate the invisible envelope and
reach to the level of the sea. This action of water affords

172
a striking example of the general truth, of which fresh
illustrations reward investigation in every department of
physics, that Infinite Wisdom has anticipated and provided
for every requirement.
Our second illustration is afforded by
The Circulation of Carbon.
After water, carbon forms one of the principal constitu
ents of both vegetable and animal organisms. Its circula
tion, which involves the ceaseless destruction and renewal
of physical life, is crowded with activities, of which only
the more general features come within the range of our
observation. Carbon is not soluble in any known substance. It exists
separately only in the solid state From this it passes
directly, without intermediate fluidity, into the gaseous
state, by combining with oxygen, from which it has not
yet been disassociated so as to be obtained as a separate gas.
Carbonic acid gas, the familiar compound thus formed, is
diffused in a minute proportion throughout the atmos
phere, forming one-twenty-fifth of one per cent, of its vol
ume, and from this source the vegetable kingdom, and
thence the animal kingdom also, derives its entire supply of
carbon. The leaves of plants alone, under the influence of
light, have power to break the attractive bond by which
carbon is united with oxygen.
We witness here a phenomenon of a wonderful char
acter, but which is only a type of a class of phenomena
that are to be observed universally. This is the coopera
tive action of separate and remote agencies, for the ac
complishment of a single end or purpose. In the leaves of
plants, as already stated, the two constituents of their be
ing meet. These are mineral substances, brought by water
from the soil, and carbon, borne in the air. Other remark
able features are also to be noted. If carbon were soluble
in water, or if mineral substances were not so, in either
case, the vegetable and animal creations, as these are con
stituted, could not exist. It is only in the leaves of plants
that sunlight exerts any influence to dissociate carbon
from its union with oxygen.

173
In some of its vegetable combinations, carbon is made
adapted to the nutritive organs of animals, and being re
ceived by them in these forms, it becomes, next after
water and its elements, the chief constituent of the or
ganic portions of their bodies.
From both these associations or uses, vegetable and
animal, carbon returns directly to its combination with
oxygen. All combustion, and all decay, of either vege
table or animal tissues, is this recombination, in rapid or
in gradual progress, which is also the chief terrestrial
source of heat. In animals, this return of carbon to its
chemical union with oxygen goes on continually through
out the organism, and is the source of animal heat. The
carbonic acid gas, which is formed in this manner, is
brought by the blood from every part of the body to the
lungs, and is discharged into the atmosphere at each ex
piration, while the blood returns charged continually with
fresh oxygen, by which the process is continued.
A remarkable provision is here to be noted, by which
this recombination of carbon with the oxygen of the
atmosphere is rendered possible. Oxygen has an almost
universal affinity for other substances, except nitrogen,
the gas with which it is mingled in the atmosphere. By
reason of this general and strong greediness of oxygen
for combination with other forms of matter, it has re
sulted, that this gas forms the larger component of nearly
all compound substances, both in their solid and fluid, as
well as their gaseous states. Oxygen combines with hy
drogen to form water, and it combines with various bases
to form all the rocks and clays of the globe. All these
combinations are of a permanent character. In the first
one the two gases assume the liquid state under the ordin
ary conditions of heat and pressure. In all the combina
tions of the second class, oxygen becomes a solid. In
contrast with all others of its almost universal combina
tions, stands the case of the union of oxygen with carbon.
Here oxygen retains its gaseous form, and the solid car
bon becomes a gas. This exceptional action brings carbon
into a state in which it is adapted to re-commence its end
less circuit, in the development of plant-life. Sufficient
evidence is afforded here of a special purpose, in establish-

174
ing the peculiar nature of the combination of oxygen with
carbon. This is, however, only a prominent illustration
of an innumerable number of cases, in which special pro
vision is obviously made for special uses. The cases in
which the special purpose is evident to us are so numer
ous, that we are warranted in the important conclusion,
that a special purpose determines every combination or
association of matter.
But we have been led away from what is perhaps the
most remakable feature of the case. Not only does oxygen
retain its gaseous form, and the solid carbon become a
gas in this combination, but in order that this shall take
place at all, there must be precisely what is found to exist,
namely, a complete want of affinity of oxygen for nitrogen.
There is no chemical bond or attraction between these con
stituents of the atmosphere that would need to be broken,
before the union of oxygen with carbon could take place.
Nitrogeu acts, however, as a diluent, and prevents the too
rapid union of these two gases. It thus renders a most
important service. The affinity of oxygen for carbon is
so strong, that, were the oxygen undiluted by nitrogen,
their union would be destructive of life in all its forms.
These examples illustrate the dependence of all physical
being, and of the various effects that are obviously in
tended in nature, upon the presence of matter, in precisely
the states and forms and proportions that are observed,
and upon the possession by each separate form of matter
of the precise qualities that it is seen to have. The sincere
mind cannot contemplate without emotion the perfect
adaptation to its office of each one of the innumerable
agencies, on whose harmonious activity all physical being
depends. Our third illustration will be drawn from
THE CIRCULATION OF THE BLOOD IN ANIMALS.
This has a peculiar interest, because it shows a remark
able provision for avoiding mechanical difficulties.
There are two features of the circulation of the blood,
which, until quite recently, have escaped the attention of
physiologists. If in the provision for animal existence,

175
these had also escaped the attention of the Creator, the
animal creation would have been a failure, the mechanism
would not have worked.
Since the discovery of the circulation of the blood, it has
until within a few years been supposed or assumed that
the flow of the blood, through the channels provided for it
w*as produced entirely by the action of the heart. It was
obvious that this powerful muscle acts as a pump, first by
its expansion, admitting the blood into its cavities, and
then, by its contraction, impelling it through the arteries,
capillaries and veins. With this evident action investi
gators were for a long time satisfied, and inquired no
further. This action, however, considered as the only
action that takes place, involves two difficulties that did
not suggest themselves, until they were made apparent by
the analogies that are afforded in mechanical experience.
The first of these difficulties is found in the hydrostatic
column. In any system of pipes filled with water, either
at rest or in motion, the pressure of water at the base is
greater than it is at a line six feet above the base, by two
and five- eighth pounds on each square inch of area. Blood
being about six per cent, heavier than water, if its circu
lation were produced by the action of the heart alone, a
difference, amounting, on the average of individuals, to
about two pounds on the square inch, would exist between
the pressures of blood in the head and in the feet, when
the body was in the erect position, and this difference
would disappear on lying down. Now we know that, in
fact, no such difference exists. Under normal or healthy
conditions, the pressure of the blood is uniform through
out our bodies, and is unaffected by change of position. In
some way this difficulty has been completely avoided.
The second difficulty is of a nature, if possible, still
more serious. It consists in the disposition of fluids in
motion to take the shortest road. This is a very obstinate
disposition. In the experience of men with their own con
structions, it has been found invariably, that, when alter
native passages between two points are provided for a
fluid, a very little difference in the length or the direct
ness of these passages is sufficient to cause the fluid to
choose the shorter or more direct route, passing entirely

176
through this channel, and standing quite motionless in
the other.
Now in this respect the different routes that are trav
ersed by the blood present extreme contrasts. Through
some of the arteries and veins the communication, from
the side of the heart from which the blood is discharged,
around to the opposite side, at which it re-enters it, is short
and comparatively direct, while through others it is many
times longer and more tortuous. But the hydraulic engineer
beholds with wonder the fact, that the current of the blood
flows through all these alike. The action of the blood, in
conveying nutriment to the most remote parts of the body,
and bringing away the effete matter from them, is pre
cisely as efficient as it is in those parts that lie nearest to
the heart. By some means this difficulty also has been
surmounted. How have these two results, which are im
possible with man, been effected ?
Among recent discoveries in animal physiology is the fol
lowing important one, which affords the principal answer to
this question. The powerful contractile action of the
heart is the commencement of a muscular contractile
wave, that passes from the heart along every artery.
What we feel in the pulse was long supposed to be the
swelling of the artery under the pressure of the current
driven along by the contraction of the heart. This sup
position involved another difficulty, to which no attention
was paid. The supposed swelling of the artery would in
volve a resistance to the passage of the blood, and there
would be a consequent loss of pressure at every point, by
the amount expended in overcoming this resistance. Now
it is known that the pulse is not such a swelling of the ar
tery, but is the passage of this muscular contractile wave.
Each one of these waves sends before it, in each artery, a
volume of blood precisely proportioned to its capacity, and
independent of the distance or direction of the flow, and
maintains a uniform pressure to every extremity of the
body. This wonderful action affords the only conceivable
solution of this complicated mechanical problem. The
next remarkable feature is, that the various arteries and
their branches are nicely proportioned in area to the
extent of the regions which are to be supplied with blood

177
through them. By this careful adaptation, under the uni
form wave pressure, every part of the body receives its
equal nutriment, and we have symmetry of form. A
muscular action, similar to the wave action in the arteries,
is to be observed, impelling each swallow of water up-
tvards along the neck of the horse and some other ani
mals while drinking.
This glance at a few features, taken almost at random,
and which are no more remarkable than is everything else
in nature, of which many examples will suggest them
selves to the intelligent reader, will be concluded with a
brief reference to a few of the relations or adaptations of
widely different things to each other, which are every
where to be observed. These adaptations are so familiar,
that they fail to impress us. We are liable to become as
insensible to them as the ruler of the synagogue was to
to the present divinity, whose presence, indeed, was not,
in reality, any more manifest there than it is always and
everywhere, but which was so involuntarily confessed by
him when he said : " There are six days in which men
ought to work, in them, therefore, come and be healed."
These adaptations are such as the structure of the lungs
of animals, with ref erence to the vital interchange, by the
blood, of carbonic acid gas for oxygen, that is perpetually
being effected within them ; as the adaptation of the eye
to light, and of both the eye and light, on the one hand,
to the objects that are to be revealed by their joint agency,
and, on the other hand, to the spirit to whom the revela
tion of these objects is to be made ; of the wings of birds
to the air, and to the weight of the body that in each case
is to be supported in it, and to their further office of im
pelling this body through it ; and so universally the adap
tation of each member of every organism, not only to its
function, but also to those natural agencies which coop
erate with it in the performance of that function.
An impressive instance of the adaptation of physical to
spiritual being, as well as of the performance of different
functions by a single agency, is seen in the case of the at
mosphere. Besides being the supporter of combustion
and of animal and vegetable life, and performing a variety
of familiar functions, by its pressure and otherwise, the

178
atmosphere is the medium for the conduction of sound, or
speaking correctly, for communicating the vibrations of
other bodies to the ears of animals.
All matter is capable of being put- into a state of vibra
tion. The variety of these vibrations is infinite. Every
one of them is communicated to the omnipresent air,
which is in close contact with all bodies under pressure.
The atmosphere repeats and transmits all these vibrations
by corresponding pulsations. It, moreover, repeats and
transmits simultaneously all different vibrations that may
be communicated to it, however numerous these may be,
without any one being modified or affected in any manner
by the others. The ears of animals are adapted to receive
and repeat, in their turn, the vibrations which are com
municated to them by the atmosphere. Thus in some un
known way the mind forms the notion of sound. Sound
is wholly a mental conception. The vibrations of matter
are silent. The waves of the air also are as noiseless as the
unbroken waves of the ocean. We have no idea how the
sensation of sound is produced. Anatomy traces the most
delicate and curious structure. But all observation of
which we seem to be capable ends where it begins, on the
silent vibrations of matter.
Through the medium of the atmosphere our spirits com
municate with one another. For this purpose we employ
the gift of speech. This also is produced by organs that
have been designed with express reference to the atmos
phere. Like every other organ of our frames, the organs
of speech, to our limited understanding, appear compli
cated, and in much of their extent obscure. We find in
them, as everywhere else, everything adapted in fact,
however little we may understand it, to the accomplish
ment of the perfect result; which in this case is unlimited
capability of expression.
Here, indeed, where the material and the spiritual con
nect, is something passing wonder. There is not a senti
ment or feeling or emotion of the soul, existing in any de
gree whatever, that the voice is not adapted to express.
And, what is more than this, the voice does spontaneously
express it. And as the ear receives the pulsations thus
communicated to the air, the listening spirit recognizes the

179
sentiment or feeling or emotion. Thus, "all human sympa
thies are interchanged, soul communicating with soul,
through the amazing mechanisms of the vocal organs and
the ear, and the pulsations of the silent air.
In reviewing these wonders of creative skill, we have
followed the conventional fashion, and have described them
as if we were viewing a machine. But the spirit that has
received the revelation of the ever-living God chafes under
this impersonality. Through all nature it sees his presence
and his activity. It knows the motive of this infinite
pains. It sees the love of God, shining in every ray of
light, falling in every drop of rain, smiling in every flower,
ripening every grain, imparting life in every breath. Love
is the unity that runs throughout and connects the end
less diversity. This love is manifested in all practical ways,
in all common things. From its very nature, it must be
in a state of ceaseless beneficent activity, in ways adapted
to every want of every creature, especially to every want
of man from the very lowest up to the very highest.
It is a remarkable fact, that pricisely similar conduct,
or practical manifestation of love, constitutes the test that
was given by the Christ, to determine the existence of
the same love in the human spirit: "I was hungry and
ye gave me meat, I was thirsty and ye gave me drink."
We at once recognize this conduct, in the case of man, to
afford the real evidence of the existence of this love. We
see it to be its necessary expression.
Here, also, is found the real solution of the painful prob
lems of sociology. All human devices, resting on any other
foundation, must come to naught. The divine provision
is the simple and radical one, of universal love, as the
animating spring of human, as it is of the divine, conduct.
Of this love we can at present form in our consciousness
only faint and distorted images. Changes will be neces
sary in our very habits of thought, before these images can
become clear and true.
For one who is fond of observing the practical ways in
which the universal love of God finds its expression, the
material provision that has been made for man's activity
and develepement presents an attractive field. Our whole
being consists of wants. The progress of civilization is

180
indicated by the increase in the number, and the elevation
in the character, of our wants. For the supply of those
of a physical nature we are wholly dependent on the earth.
But we scarcely think of this dependence. The earth
abounds with resources, adapted to every want as it arises.
These we appropriate to our service generally without a
thought either of the dependence or the provision. A brief
reference to a single one of these provisions may aid us to
a partial realization of their varied and boundless nature.
If an individual, in ignorance of any reality, should en
deavor to imagine what a Being of infinite knowledge and
beneficence would be most likely to provide for man, in a
single form of matter, everywhere distributed, that should
be of the utmost general use to him, that he could put into
shapes siutable for any purpose, that in weight and
strength should meet the greatest variety of his require
ments, that should be capable of combining with other
forms of matter, and in these combinations should possess
a variety of useful properties, additional to its own,
that, as his civilization advanced, he should find suited to
a greater and greater number of his wants, and, as his
knowledge increased, he should be able to apply to a
greater and greater variety of purposes, and that, in all its
forms, and in the characters that it assumes by combining
with other substances, should be especially adapted to aid
him in applying the agencies of nature to his use, and so
in promoting his own civilization, the strongest imagina
tion could never have conceived of the reality that we
possess, in iron. No finite mind can comprehend the in
numerable uses of iron, from the cultivation of the soil to
the transmission of thought, nor measure its importance
to the human race. But iron is only one of the multitude
of provisions for our welfare, with which we are already
familiar. Probably there is no form of matter without
its use, or more likely its multitude of uses, very many of
which we have yet to learn. In the animal frame every
part has its use. We have reason to believe that the same
must be the case with every form of matter in the earth
itself, and that too in a higher sense, namely, in adapta
tion to our voluntary employment of it.
In earlier papers the physical creation has been pre-

181
sented as our educator in two respects. Attention has
been directed to the ministries of force and of truth. Our
complete dependence on the physical creation for our men
tal, as well as for our physical, sustenance and growth
has been briefly referred to. We have admired the adap
tation of all things by which we are surrounded to the de
velopment of our spiritual, as well as our physical, powers,
by use and exercise. We have seen, moreover, how truth
in the physical creation is adapted to promote the growth
of truth in the human spirit. The latter we recognize to
be a higher office than the former. The elevation of
human character is an object of unspeakably greater con
sequence than the increase of human knowledge. The
normal effect of physical influences should be that these
would advance hand in hand.
Now, we have presented to us another adaptation, har
monious with these, but of a higher nature still. To bring
the human spirit in its emotional nature, in its eosential
being, into harmony with the nature of God, is an object
to which all other objects must be subordinate. These
must be accounted worthy or unworthy, just as they tend
to promote or to hinder this supreme result. All educa
tion has its noblest use and reason in the fact, that it fits
the soul of man more intelligently and more profoundly
to worship God. This supreme end, of transforming the
spiritual nature of man into likeness to God, is the end
that the physical creation is above all adapted, and
so evidently intended, to promote. It performs this work,
first, by the constant exhibition of truth, which has
already been dwelt upon, and second and chiefly, by set
ting before mankind, perpetually, the stupendous mani
festation of the infinite, the universal and the unchang-
able love of God.
We have observed that everywhere in nature there is to
be seen the cooperation of many independent agencies,
working together in harmony, for the accomplishment of
every particular purpose. In the same manner precisely,
we have these infinitely varied manifestations of the
divine love in nature, evidently intended to cooperate, in
the same perfect harmony, with the supreme manifesta
tion of the same love, that is revealed in the Bible, for the

182
accomplishment of the same great purpose. It is of the
greatest consequence that this harmony should be recog
nized. Then the sacrifice of the cross must be looked upon
as the necessary expression of the same love that is shown
in nature. It is seen to be precisely what we ought to look
for. The adaptation of the physical creation to its inferior
educational uses is something that we recognize at once,
and turn it to full practical account. For these purposes
we give all diligence to the study of nature. We derive
all possible intellectual advantage from the wonders of the
creation by which we are environed. But the highest of
its uses, and the one which it was obviously intended
above all others to serve, we are slow to perceive. We
are not eager to study the love of God in nature, and to
open our souls to its transforming influence. This supreme
spiritual revelation we are blind to, naturally, and this
blindness has been actually darkened by our system of
education. Physical science, as at present limited, is chiefly respon
sible for the false education that now generally prevails,
This science exercises a controlling influence on the forma
tion of our very habits of thought, and it supplies, to a
great extent, the formulas of speech that men are accus
tomed to employ. Its influence is mischievous. It com
pletely disregards and ignores the principal thing. It
forms its conclusions on a partial view of the facts. It
admits into consciousness only that to which the mind
reaches, in the inferior modes of its activity. To these
things it insists upon confining the attention, as to the
only things that cau be known. The highest of all truths,
that which at once unifies and vivifies the whole, the
truth that is of so much greater consequence than those
to which it limits its thought, that it were infinitely better
that all those should perish out of human knowledge than
that this one should be lost, to this it is dead.
It ignores, as a source of knowledge, the highest form
of our spiritual activity, through which alone the revela
tion of the highest truth can be received. It dismisses, as
undeserving of philosophic regard, the activity of love,
the spring of all worthy conduct in man, and by the
recognition of which only can infinite love be revealed,

183
which is the spring of all the conduct of God. And it ex
alts the reason, a fiction of its own brain, and makes the
supposed conclusions of this imaginary faculty the limits
of its belief.
This unspeakable foolishness is easily exposed. The
philosopher says to one whom he looks down upon as an
ignorant man, and who does not believe in his instruction:
" My friend, what do you know about the matter ? What
right have you to express, or even to form, any opinion at
all on the subject?" Ah! it is clear enough that the
ignorant unbeliever has not had all the facts revealed to
him ; he cannot receive the revelation of them ; they are
shown to him in vain. Yet he is presuming to exercise the
judicial functions of his mind on the basis of what there is
in his consciousness. Of course, he is judging of matters
quite beyond him, on insufficient and erroneous and imagin
ary data. The unbeliever is himself, however, quite un
conscious of all this. He cannot see, and so he will not
believe, that outside of his little horizon there can exist
anything, that, if he knew it, would change all his conclu
sions. He insists upon the authority of what he has been
taught to call his reason.
The philosopher abandons the attempt to enlighten him ;
sighs as he reflects upon the process through which the
uneducated mind must pass before it can stand on his
more elevated plane of thought ; then turns away, and
proceeds to do the very same thing. While taking no ac
count of the two controlling facts, namely, the being of
God and the endowment of man with a mode of spiritual
activity, by the recognition of which he comes to a certain
knowledge of that being, the philosopher assumes that he
embraces within his consciousness everything required as
a basis for a final judgment, and he appeals to his reason
as the final arbiter. In the view of infinite intelligence,
very little difference will appear between the knowledge of
the two individuals, or their right to rely on their own
judicial findings.
I remember, at a meeting of the British Association for
the Advancement of Science, held at Newcastle-on-Tyne,
some twenty years ago, listening to an account, given by
Mr. Glaisher, of a balloon ascension that he had made for

184
scientific observations, with Mr. Coxwell, a noted aeronaut,
from a point near London. This impressive description
fixed itself in my memory. Mr. Glaisher said that as
they rose higher and higher, irregularities on the surface
of the earth gradually disappeared; well-known elevations
became more and more indistinct ; until at last none of
these could be recognized, but the whole landscape ap
peared to be on one level, and that the level of the Thames.
Science has had a surprising degree of success in ren
dering mankind insensible to the spiritual influences of
the creation around them. Through the direction that it
takes of our education, it is able actually to control our
very modes of thought. It has taken care that no ideas
beyond those of force and law shall enter the mind in its
forming stage. This influence of science on the theological
mind generally has far outweighed the effect of the con
trary teaching of the Bible. As a result, pulpit instruction
rarely rises above the impersonal idea, so fearfully false,
of a regular constitution and order of nature, with which
the Almighty only occasionally interferes. This false con
ception we see continually carried to the length of imagin
ing a contrast between the God of nature and the God of
grace ; a contrast that certainly exists between the true
God and the imaginary being to which we arrive through
an intellectual process . To the infinite presence, within all
the modes and forms of His manifestation, of the God to
whom it makes its supplications, the pulpit is, to a large
degree, practically dead. Wo are spiritually bound in
fetters forged by men, and may sigh for the freedom of
the poet's poor Indian, " whose untutored mind
Sees God in clouds, and hears him in the wind."
It is believed that the lines of thought which have here
been faintly traced, and that for only a short distance, lead
in the direction of the truth. If this belief is well founded,
then the cure for honest scientific skepticism ought to be
found, by following these lines into the infinite spiritual
domain towards which they tend.
The being of God must be at once the fundamental and
the supreme fact of philosophy, the Alpha and the Omega,

185
the beginning and the end of all knowledge. As He is
omnipresent in nature, so He should be present in every
thought of nature. If in reality everything in nature is
the expression of His love, then any conception of any
thing in nature to which the love of God is not funda
mental must be at least an incomplete conception.
It is safe to say that, when true science makes its ap
pearance in the world, it will not make it its great object
to arrest man's thought at the point where his own being
begins. Out of the infinity of relations that exist between
what is called matter and man and God, it will not
select the lowest of all, or the relations between different
forms of matter, as the only ones to which attention is to
be directed. It will not refuse to admit the highest truths
into consciousness, and deduce all its conclusions from
observations of the relations between matter alone.
The false philosphy, that divides the human mind into
imaginary separate natures, and that imagines truth, as
being of divers kinds, corresponding to one and the other
of these different natures, and that rejects the emotional
nature as a source of knowledge, is at the bottom of our
present conventional and mistaken habits of thought.
The cure, by which this condition of philosphic thought,
so disastrous in its effects, is to be remedied, must there
fore be of a radical character.

186

BEAUTY.

We are so constituted, that the appearances of the phy
sical creation, or those manifestations of force that are
observable by our senses, awaken within us pleasurable
sensations or emotions. The feelings which are thus ex
cited are various, both in kind and in degree. They differ
with the different characters of the objects observed, and
also, in degree especially, with the different characters of
the minds observing them.
Those feelings may all be comprised under the term
pleasurable; and, in a like general sense, beauty may be
employed to express all the qualities, by the contemplation
of which these pleasurable emotions are awakened. This
general sense suits our present purpose . In this general
sense beauty in nature is that quality that is recognized
with a sensation of pleasure by the beautiful mind.
The first remarkable fact about beauty is its universality.
This can hardly escape the notice of even the most super
ficial observer. In all the universe, with occasional excep
tions obviously abnormal, every sight and sound is adapted
to awaken in the mind some kind and degree of pleasurable
emotion. From the glory of the starry heavens, and the
indiscribable splendor of the sun, throughout everything
that is revealed by its light, even to the most minute organ
ism, every appearance in nature, great and small, distant
and near, in sky and earth and sea, animate as well as
inanimate, addresses itself, either in form, or color, or
sound, or motion, or in these modes together, with a greater
or lesser degree of impressiveness, to our feeling of sym
pathy with beauty, or, to the beautiful in our owTn natures.
Beauty is, moreover, endlessly varied and ever new. The
variety of its expressions may, with propriety, be described
as infinite. The healthy mind never becomes weary of
their contemplation, but on the contrary grows more and
more enamored with them. It hails every new manifes-

187
tation of beauty with new delight, and dwells upon every
familiar one with deepening awe, or with more tender
affection. Whatever the meaning of it may be, beauty is
all about us, enveloping us on every side, and all our asso
ciations are with that which is adapted, in degree without
end, to give to us delight.
But what is beauty ? Why is it universal in nature ?
How comes it to be infinitely diversified and yet the same ?
Why is it that we derive pleasure from the sight and con
templation of it \ Before these questions can be answered,
we have got to disabuse our minds completely of the con
ventional, artificial and false education that we have re
ceived. All progress in thought is embarrassed by the systems
and contrivances of men. We are the victims of a mania
for classification, by means of which all idea of the unity
of truth is lost. Strong minds map out their imaginary
schemes. To them and their followers these schemes stand
in the place of the truth. Much of what is called education
consists in the handing down of those devices from learner
to learner, each generation, in turn, teaching to the next
one what it has itself been taught. When originality ap
pears, it commonly does so in a new system, more artifi
cial than the old one. By these means, both the unity of
truth and also the unity of our own spiritual being grow
more obscured, and the mind seems to lose, and undoubt
edly it does in some degree lose, the power to apprehend
them. Beauty presents a striking instance of this perversity.
In the last century, a German professor invented the
aesthetic sense. This discovery supplied a long felt want.
In the division of the human mind, no place had been
made for beauty. The intellectual faculties would have
nothing to do with it; it could not he weighed or measured.
On the other hand, ethics had no place for it; for no idea
of right or wrong could be affixed to it. The intellect and
the moral sense were thus defined and limited and occupied,
and beauty was left out in the cold. It was obviously
necessary, if mankind was to know anything about beauty,
that a special faculty should be contrived for the purpose.
So all men hailed this discovery of the aesthetic sense, which

188
was to extricate them from such a serious dilemma, just
as pagans were wont to hail a new divinity. Since then,
by common consent, everything pertaining to beauty has
been committed to this imaginary separate faculty, just
as, in the imaginations of men, the winds were once com
mitted to the care of Eolus, and the sea to Neptune.
The idea of an aesthetic sense was a natural outgrowth
of the general tendency to artificial classification. It only
added another to the existing list of imaginary mental
faculties. These must all be swept away together.
The simple truth must be recognized, that the mind
is a unit, and that what have been conceived as dif
ferent faculties, are only different modes of activity of the
same conscious spirit, which modes of activity are combined
in various degrees in every mental operation. There is, in
truth, no result or state that is reached by any mind,
whether this be a perception, or a conclusion, or an emotion,
that is not the effect of the cooperation of various modes
of our spiritual activity, as the occasion calls for their ex
ercise. The correct apprehension of any form of truth ,
involves the harmonious exercise of many forms of this
activity. It follows, that in order to be capable of any
such apprehension, we need the symmetrical development
of every potential mode of our spiritual activity. We shall
find this to be true in an especial degree in the case of
beauty. Instead of beauty being apprehended by us through
a medium of its own, that is neither an intellectual faculty
nor a moral sense, the truth is, that beauty is above all
things of a nature that demands for its perception or re
cognition the cooperation of every form of activity of which
our spirits are capable.
In the last analysis, beauty is found to be one mode of
expression of the love of God. It is thus always associ
ated with the practical expressions of the same love. Both
combine to reveal the very heart of the Father. Like the
love which it expresses, it exists in infinite degree. Like
that love, also it is perceived by us by recognition. No
mind can perceive beautyr in nature in degree greater than
its own. Only the perfect, or perfectly beautiful, spirit
can perceive beauty in its full reality, or be capable of the
perfect joy that its recognition inspires,

189
Descending from this contemplation of the very nature
of beauty, we find it to be the manifestation of excellence.
The works of God, in their normal development, are per
fect. Beauty is the sign of this practical perfection. In
those works the mind spontaneously and necessarily recog
nizes that degree of beauty that it itself possesses, or that
it is capable of perceiving.
The association in nature of beauty with utility is a sub
ject of profound interest. In nature everything has its
use, or its multiplied uses . Our observation is sufficiently
extensive to warrant this general conclusion. More than
this, everything in nature is in a state of activity, cooper
ating in harmony with everything else for beneficent pur
poses. This also is a well established conclusion. With
all this activity and with all these uses beauty is invariably
and intimately associated. Indeed, this association is so
uniform and so intimate, that the two appear to be identi
cal. In nature beauty may be defined to be fitness for
beneficent uses. This is a true and an instructive defini
tion. It is in entire harmony with the one already given.
It indicates the active nature of the love which beauty
represents, and also the character of the mind that is in
harmony with it, or by which it can be truly perceived.
In the light of this relation, the comprehensive nature of
beauty, and the fact that its proper apprehension calls for
the exercise of all modes of our spiritual activity, in the ful
ness of their symmetrical development, will become obvious.
Our proposition then is, that the beauty of anything in
nature consists in its fitness for practical beneficent uses.
The mind that is itself in any degree fitted for such uses
feels the harmony that exists between itself and such ob
jects in nature, and they appear beautiful to it just in that
degree. The spirit rejoices in the harmony that it feels.
It is customary to say that, in the harmonies of nature,
fitness, so far as we have discovered it, is invariably found
to be associated with beauty. This conclusion has been
compelled, as the result of all observation. One step
further brings us to the necessary reason of this invariable
association. Both represent the same deep reality. We
cannot separate them. The longer our minds dwell upon
their relations, the more absolute their identity appears.

190
For us it is strictly true that fitness is beauty. It is deeply
interesting to trace this identity of beauty in nature with
fitness for beneficent uses, even the little way that our
knowledge of such uses enables us to do.
We are able to perceive this fitness in the forms of na
tural objects to a much greater extent than in any other
feature of them, and so it is especially in these forms that
we perceive the identity of this fitness with beauty.
For illustration, the outlines of fishes and of birds are lines
of grace, their forms are beautiful, the observation of them
gives us pleasure. But these are the outlines and the
forms that adapt the fishes and the birds for moving most
easily and most accurately through the water and the air,
and which are indispensable to these purposes. Their
movements are also always in graceful and pleasing lines;
but the laws of force and motion do not permit these
movements to be in any other lines, except those that are
graceful and pleasing.
So universally, we admire the proportions and the struc
ture of every creation in the animal and the vegetable king
doms. Every new observation makes a fresh appeal to
our admiration. The sight of every part as well as the
whole of every organism gives us pleasure. In every case
we are able to perceive that the form and proportions and
structure that we admire are precisely those that enable
each member of the organism to perform its function most
perfectly. The foliage of plants, for example, is a crown
of beauty. It is also the organ through which the plants
breathe, where go on the wonderful combination of mineral
substances with carbon, which seems to be the first stage
of the vital operations that result in the growth and de
velopment of the plant. These all depend upon the extent
of leaf surface that is presented to the sunlight and the
air. The whole structure of every tree or plant is adapted
to effect this extended exposure, and to maintain it against
the force of storms.
Two things are here to be noted. First, the adaptation
of animal and vegetable structure to practical beneficent
uses is carried to an extreme of detail that transcends our
powers of observation. Every new exploration discloses
uses and adaptations to vises, that were unknown to us be-

191
fore, and in every case the completeness of this adaptation
fills our minds with wonder. The deeper we get, also, the
more we are impressed with the superficial nature of our
observations. Second, the perception of the fitness of
anything for its use increases its beauty in our eyes, and
deepens exceedingly the pleasure with which we regard it.
We perceive that, even with respect to forms in na
ture, our apprehension of their fitness for their uses is
extremely limited, and is for the most part confined to
general features. When we pass from them to the con
sideration of colors, we are obliged to admit that our
knowledge of their uses is very slight indeed. Still this
knowledge, slight as it is, is sufficient to warrant the same
general conclusion that we have been compelled to arrive
at respecting forms. We cannot entertain a reasonable
doubt that every color also must have its use, and that
these uses are always beneficent. We are undoubtedly
aided to this conclusion by the analogy that is afforded by
the forms of matter, where our observation of uses and of
the identity of these uses with beauty is so much more
extensive. But we observe in the case of color also con
vincing illustrations of this fitness and this identity. For
example, green is the universal general color in the vege
table clothing of the earth. It is also the color that is the
most grateful to our organs of sight in their healthy
state, and that exerts the most healing influence upon
them when they are impaired. This adaptation, however,
is probably only an incidental one. Light itself, shorn of
its glory, would cease to perform its life giving functions.
We observe in nature an inconceivable number of bene
ficent results, that are being perpetually accomplished,
although we cannot see how. Each one of those results
involves the employment of a variety of means, or of con
current activities. There must, therefore, be this multi
tude of uses and adaptations to uses that are hidden from
us. We cannot affirm then concerning any color in na
ture, in any place where it appears, that it has no use.
This would be absurd. On the contrary we are warranted
in concluding, in fact we are compelled to the conclusion,
that wrhat is true so far as our observation extends is true
universally, — that every color as well as every form ha

192
nature has its beneficent use, and that this is why they
appear beautiful in our sight.
It is to be borne in mind, that the preceding, observa
tions have been made with reference to beauty in nature.
In the imitative works of man, beauty gives us pleasure
through the law of association. It suggests to us that in
nature with which our spirits are in harmony. Among
the works of man, architecture affords some of the most
convincing illustrations of the identity of beauty with fit
ness. Architecture is not strictly an imitative art, but is
one in which in a subordinate sense man is himself a cre
ator, but in which he is required to conform his work to
the harmonies of nature. In architecture it has been in
variably found, so that it has become an established canon
of the art, that complete fitness of every part of a struc
ture for its especial use, and of the whole for its use,
when this fitness comes to be realized, is identical with
beauty. In the perception of beauty, every mode of our spiritual
activity, so far as these are called into exercise, must har
monize like the strings of an instrument. It is not neces
sary that we should have the intellectual apprehension
of the fitness of everything for its use, in order that we
shall feel the sense of harmony, and regard the object as
beautiful. But if in any case we do have this perception
of fitness, then this perception must be satisfied, or else
the object cannot appear beautiful to us.
This is a test that, of course, we are able to apply only
in cases of known unfitness of an object for its use. Such
cases cannot be found in nature. For examples of such a
want of fitness, we must look to the works of men.
There, indeed, unfitness in some respect or degree of a
construction for its use constitutes the rule rather than
the exception, and offends the mind that has been edu
cated to perceive this unfitness. Architecture would
afford many illustrations in point. We must confine our
selves to one of an obvious nature.
The office of the foundation of any building is to sustain
the superstructure. This demands solidity and strength.
These are the essential qualities of a foundation. All its
features ought to suggest them. Whatever would detract

193
from its appropriate solidity and strength, or would sug
gest ideas inconsistent with those qualities, is out of place
in a foundation. Now we have seen ornamental work
introduced into a foundation, with the obvious effect of
weakening it, or at least of conveying ideas inconsistent
with those of solidity and strength. In a suitable place
those forms might give pleasure, but here their incongruity
is shocking, to the educated mind.
Machinery again, where, as in the case of architecture,
man is himself the creator, affords admirable illustrations
of the same truth. Here we are able to see, also, with pe
culiar distinctness, the necessity for harmony through all
the modes of our spiritual activity, if anything is to appear
beautiful to us. The illustrations of these truths that may
be drawn from machinery possess an especial force and
value, because here all uses lie within our comprehension,
even more fully than they do in the case of .architecture ;
and the fitness of every part of any machine, and of the
latter as a whole, for its use can be determined in a more
unmistakable manner. Every machine has its special use.
This use was proposed by ourselves, and we have made all
the adaptations of the several parts, and of the whole, of
the mechanism to its accomplishment, and the degree of
our success or failure is a matter of certain observation.
To the instructed mechanical engineer no mechanical
forms or proportions can appear beattif ul, unless a good
mechanical reason can be given for them. Those forms
and proportions are always the most graceful and elegant
that most completely fulfill mechanical requirements. We
are able to see at once, that the pleasure that the builder
of any machine can derive from the contemplation of his
work, all the beauty that it can possess in his eyes, depends
wholly upon his perception of its fitness, or of what he
believes to be its fitness, for the use for which it was
designed. The same is true also of any observer who has
a knowledge of such uses.
Now with respect to this fitness, we are in reality always
in a greater or lesser degree mistaken. Nothing perfectly
fitted for its use was ever made by man. Still, especially
in our own work, we cannot see all the imperfections. All
will admit, however, that in machine construction, per-

194
fection is an ideal that men may always be striving after,
but can never reach. We- may, however, observe that,
just in the degree that we imagine ourselves to have at
tained a high point of excellence in any mechanical con
struction, just in that degree will its forms appear beauti
ful to us. I was once asked by a steam engine builder, as
he contemplated his own work with an expression of abso
lute satisfaction and delight : " Why is not that a perfect
engine ? " My own view was so different, that I was quite
shocked by the question. This satisfaction designers
always feel, so long as they do not know any better. But
when afterwards, from enlarged knowledge, probably ob
tained by that agreeable process known as experience, we
have come to see that our work is in fact, in some degree
or respect, unsuitable for its purpose, all becomes changed.
Now we look upon the same forms, but their beauty has
vanished. The sight of them is no longer pleasing. They
fail to satisfy our ideal. We can no longer pronounce
them good.
Illustrations of this nature show us also that beauty is
the expression of all excellence. All modes of our spirit
ual activity must harmonize in the song of beauty. Here
also "good" is a word of comprehensive significance. Be
fore we can pronounce this word over any mechanical work,
whether it be our own, or that of another mind, our sense
of justice must above all be satisfied. We must be con
scious in our own case, and must feel assured in any other,
that the highest fidelity has been exercised. No product
of the labor and skill, of either ourselves or another, can
appear beautiful in our sight, maless we feel that it is the
very best offering that we or they had been able to bring.
Reflections of this nature render it obvious that the moral
quality is fundamental in beauty, as we have seen it to be
in physical truth. It is the dominant in the universal
harmony. In considering the beauty manifested in all the
works of God, the spirit of man in its unity, going forth in
every form of its activity, must bow in admiration and
wonder before that perfection, the varied forms of which
are combined to constitute this beauty, and which was
pronounced by the Infinite Maker himself to be very good.
We pass now from things to beings. Here a remarkable

195
correspondence appears. The same qualities charm us in
both. We cannot distinguish between the feelings with
which we regard a beautiful landscape and those with
which we regard a beautiful character. We are awed alike
by grandeur of scenery and by grandeur of soul. The same
harmony between ourselves and our ideal is felt in each
case alike. We perceive at once the duality and the unity
of the creation. It is true that the false education, that
would deprive the physical creation of its supreme quality
in the moral element, would hide this unity from our sight.
The mind that sees God in his works will, however, dis
cover the manifestation of moral excellence to be supreme
ly made in the landscape.
There can be no doubt that the delight with which spirit
ual as well as physical beauty is regarded by us proceeds
from a similar recognition. But what is it that we so
spontaneously recognize ? What is it that, in each of these
two classes of objects alike, awakens within us emotions
of pleasure, proportionate to our ability to form such re
cognition? There must be a reason, in some quality that
is common to both physical and spiritual beauty, why any
created thing or being should have power to awaken these
pleasing emotions in our minds, and so should appear to
us beautiful. This common quality is found in fitness for
beneficent uses.
The fact that in a moral being fitness for beneficent uses
is the quality the recognition of which gives pleasure to us,
just in the degree that we possess this fitness ourselves, is
shown quite conclusively, when we consider the opposite
of this fitness, or fitness for injurious and destructive pur
poses. The latter is the fitness in the contemplation of
which the completely abnormal or depraved mind rejoices.
This is the fitness with which such a mind is in harmony.
This awakens sensations of pleasure in such a nature.
This is what appears beautiful to it. This was the mutual
fitness that caused Fagan to be regarded with admiration
by his pupils in crime.
Here we have shown to us a law of our nature. We
derive pleasure from seeing in others our owia likeness,
or our ideal. We feel a harmony existing between our
selves and that in another which represents either what

196
we are conscious that we are, or that which we would be.
Towards this, whatever it may be, we are attracted, and
are repelled from its opposite. The one is contemplated
by us with delight. The other we regard with aversion.
So it is always to be observed, that it is only in the de
gree in which the spirit is itself beautiful, fit for benefi
cent uses, or in which it feels a longing to become so, that
it can derive pleasure from the contemplation of either a
beautiful character, or the beauties of nature. Otherwise
the spirit must be in a greater or lesser degree insensible
to natural loveliness, and must regard a lovely character
with feelings that range from indifference, through all
degrees of aversion, to hatred, according to the degree of
antagonism between its own nature and the nature that
it observes. The sight of perfect beauty of spirit was once
seen on the earth. It aroused in malignant natures feel
ings that could be satisfied only by its destruction.
This law also manifests itself in another manner, which
has already been dwelt upon in a previous paper. This
is the strong tendency of every mind to see in
others its own likeness or ideal whether this be
good or bad. Whatever character may be presented to us,
the image that, in advance of evidence or experience,
and to a surprising degree in spite of evidence and exper
ience, we form in our minds, and take to represent the
reality, is our own conscious spiritual likeness. We thus
naturally expect and assume that others will be governed
in their conduct by the same motives that we knew would
determine our own, that under the same circumstances
they will do that, which we know that we would do our
selves. On the one hand, the innocent, the generous, the true
spontaneously regard all others as being like themselves.
"To the pure, all things are pure." " I do not think," said
Desdemona, "there is any such woman." It is hard to
destroy this illusion, and the trust that attends it. When
these are broken their loss brings grief to the spirit.
On the other hand, those who are in any respect or de
gree depraved see everywhere in humanity the reflection
of their own natures. They believe all men to be in heart
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197
as hyprocrisy. It is not ordinarily possible for one who
is himself governed by selfish or degrading motives to
believe that the conduct of any one else can be controlled
by exalted and self-denying principles.
" Wisdom and goodness to the vile seem vile."
" And when Joseph's brethren saw that their father
was dead, they said, Joseph will peradventure hate us, and
will certainly requite us all the evil that we did unto
him." I have ventured here to return to this subject, and dwell
upon it again, on account of its singular importance in
this connection. It exhibits the law of all spiritual per
ception. It shows the manner in which we recognize all
spiritual realities. Beauty is wholly spiritual. Beauty in
nature is the expression of the beauty of the divine con
duct. It is the expression of the beauty of the divine
spirit. Our recognition of the moral quality of beauty, of
its true nature, is possible only in the degree in- which we
are ourselves in harmony with that nature. Our ability
to recognize beauty at all, to derive any degree of pleasure
from its contemplation, whether in nature or in human
character and conduct, depends wholly upon the fitness of
our own natures for beneficent uses in the development of
their lovely capabilities. We can see without only that
which we feel, and that which we are, within. For the
perception of beauty, whether seen in the conduct of God
or in the conduct of men, whether revealing the infinite
love of God, or the development of the same love in the
human soul, whatsoever is just, whatsoever is pure, what
soever is true, whatsoever is lovely, in our own natures,
must cooperate in the recognition.
We now look again upon the physical creation as our
educator. We behold the ministry of beauty. We get a
completer sense of the great use of all the harmonious
influences by which we are surrounded. We see the su
preme beneficent purpose which these are adapted to pro
mote. By all means, in cooperative and ceaseless activ
ity, the nature of man is to be transformed. It is to be
changed from all that is hateful to all that is lovely. For
this purpose, who can measure the influence of our envi
ronment of beauty ?

198
The primary end of beauty, in its infinite manifestation
in nature, is not to give delight to the spirit of man. This
delight is indeed necessary, just in the degree in which
the human spirit is in harmony with beauty. But prece
dent to this, beauty has an office to perform. This office
is, to aid, gradually, insensibly, in bringing the nature of
man into harmony with all perfection, into fitness for its
own highest use. In beauty we have another spiritual
reality, another manifestation of the Infinite Being, of
whom it is written that " strength and beauty are in His
sanctuary," a term by which the universe is understood to
be meant, and another means by the influence of which
man shall ultimately be made a partaker of the nature of
God. We have now seen the cooperation of force, truth,
love and beauty in this supreme beneficent work, but for
this work all these influences are not sufficient. The task
is too great. More, very much more, is needed even than
these.

199

SUFFERING.

The Bible is true. It harmonizes with nature at every
point. We have now arrived at the supreme exhibition
of this harmony. We find it to exist in a two-fold respect.
First. — The Bible declares the purpose of God with re
spect to man to be his restoration to a state of holiness.
In its own wondeirful language, language such as no man
who could form the conception would dare to employ, it
declares it to be the purpose of God that man should be
come the partaker of his own nature. This result is the
supreme end of revelation as made to us in the Bible. It
is also the supreme end of revelation as made to us in
nature. The same infinitely beneficent purpose animates
both. Every influence in nature is ceaselessly exerted to
bring man into harmony with God. This is also the de
clared purpose of the teaching and motive to the death of
the Christ. Deep and precious spiritual verities interpen
etrate all the forms of the physical creation. These are
also the things with which the Bible is filled. They who
penetrate most deeply into either come at last to the same
animating force — the infinite love of God. On this point,
of the purpose of God with respect to man, the harmony
between nature and the Bible is strikingly obvious. But
this harmony extends further than this.
Second. — Nature and the Bible are in accord with re
spect to the means by which this purpose is to be effected.
In nature all results are found to be brought about by
the concurring action of independent agencies, operating
together in harmony. Whenever these results involve a
change of condition of a general nature they are reached
by slow degrees. While the agencies employed are in
ceaseless activity, the changes consequent on their action
advance by gradual, often by insensible, steps. This is the
law of all progress, or of development and growth. But
all intended results are ultimately accomplished. Every

200
necessary means is always employed. Every appropriate
agency is performing its appointed part. As already re
marked, in nature nothing is useless, and nothing is want
ing. This is the case throughout the physical creation,
and it is especially to be seen in the multiplied relations
that this creation bears to man, This law, of the harmo
nious cooperation of different agencies, and of their united
efficiency and sufficiency for their purpose, is shown in its
highest manifestation, in its application to the most re
markable of all changes, namely, the change in the spir
itual condition or nature of the human race.
No change ought to interest the philosopher so deeply
as this. It is one of a completely radical character. It
affects the very spring of all human activity. It is a
transformation of man, from a being wholly false to a
being wholly true ; from a being wholly hateful to a being
wholly lovely ; from a being wholly selfish to a being
wholly self-sacrificing ; from a being wholly vindictive to
a being wholly forgiving— in short, from a being in a state
of complete antagonism with the nature of God to a being
in complete harmony with that nature, a partaker of it.
It is a change so total, that it could be expressed by the
Christ only under the tremendous figure of being born
again. We observe this change in its progress, and are
ourselves the subjects of it. All human beings are more
or less affected by it. Probably none remain absolutely in
the former state, as none can attain to the latter. One
effect of it is seen in the spontaneous impulse moving
those who are most advanced to help on those who are less
so. This is the change that the Bible, giving verbal expres
sion to the teaching of nature, declares to be the supreme
purpose of God with respect to man ; and concerning the
means for the accomplishment of which purpose we are
to see again the Bible and nature in accord with each
other. The Bible calls upon men to observe the exhibition
of the truth and love of God in the endlessly varied forms
of its manifestation, and to conform both his conduct and
the motives of his conduct to the perfect pattern thus set
before him. It does far more than this. It recognizes the
fact that these alone are not sufficient. Another agency,

201
acting in harmony with these, but of a more compelhng
nature, must supplement their influence. This last is nec
essary, indeed, in order that the former shall even be per
ceived, and their power be felt at all. This supremely
efficient agency is suffering, in its two forms of vicarious
and personal suffering. The Bible declares this to be the
supreme and the finally efficient agency, through which
this infinitely beneficent purpose of God is to be accom
plished. This is the key that unlocks the mystery of human suf
fering, mystery only to those who will not learn. Here
the facts in nature with which the Bible is in harmony,
are necessarily the facts of human experience. Man is
the sufferer. And the accordant teaching of the Bible
and of human experience is this, that mankind receive all
their blessings, this highest of all first ; and second, those
subordinate benefits that in their own fruition tend to
promote this chief good, as the result of the sufferings of
others, and are made capable of receiving them by suffer
ings endured either by the individual himself, or by
those from whom he has inherited his disposition. Thus
human suffering is seen to be the chief means of good,
and moreover to be the means, without which all other
means would in this supreme sense be of no avail. It
must then be regarded as the crowning manifestation of
the love of God to men. No one can make a comprehen
sive study of the subject without being driven to this con
clusion. The world is full of suffering, both real and imaginary.
Religion, the religion of nature and the Bible, utterly dis
sipates the latter, and makes of the former the means of
the highest good. It also enables the spirit to recognize
suffering, whatever the form in which it may appear, in
its true character. Religion thus fills the soul with light
and gladness, and this wholly irrespective of worldly con
dition. Indeed, the most remarkable examples of spirit
ual joy are to be found under circumstances where appar
ently the conditions of existence are unfavorable in the
most extreme degree.
Nothing is more amazing than to observe how many of
our distresses are of our own manufacture.

202
It seems to be a common impulse of mankind to pay
little regard to their benefits, or even to overlook them en
tirely, and to fix their attention upon those things from
which they can extract misery. Multitudes voluntarily
endure more or less suffering, from which minds in a
healthy state would be free, and deprive themselves of
habitual gladness that such minds enjoy. This abnormal
and morbid state or habit of mind accounts for the wide
acceptance that the absurd views of pessimism have re
ceived. I once heard of an incident that well illustrates this com
mon perversion. A gentleman who was possessed of enor
mous wealth, the accumulation of his own lifetime, was
called upon by a person well known to him, and who was
entitled to his confidence, who solicited him to subscribe a
small sum to a local object. When the matter had been
laid before him, he replied writh a look of severity: "If
you knew my condition, sir, I would be the last person
you would think of applying to for a contribution to this
or to any other object." Amazed, and wondering what
catastrophe could have befallen, the visitor began to apol
ogize for his unseasonable intrusion, when the gentleman
interrupted him, and continued: "Do you know, sir,
that, by the reduction in the rate of interest in this State,
from seven to six per cent., I have lost, in the last year,
the sum of more than sixteen thousand dollars!"
This loss had been uppermost in this poor man's mind.
It had given him constant distress. The mighty inflow of
his revenues was all nothing. Like the sun-light, that was
a matter of course. It afforded him no pleasure. He was
tormented by this inevitable annual loss. To repeat a
felicitous simile from Charles Lamb, this was Mordecai in
the gate. So deep was the impression made upon his own
mind by what he looked upon as this legislative robbery,
that it seemed to him that it must impress others in the
same way. He actually supposed that his visitor would
not only see the necessity for his refusal, but would share
in the sympathy that he felt for himself.
Perhaps we will not be so much surprised at such a per
version of all right views, if we reflect for a moment on
the fact that, in one degree or another, everv one does

203
precisely the same thing. The mighty stream of common
blessings, the flow of which never ceases for an instant,
and in comparison with which any income from wealth is
nothing, is only feebly appreciated by any, wdaile on the
great mass of mankind it makes little or no impression.
Most persons never think of it. But any interruption of
its current, no matter how slight, let this occur, then they
bewail their fate, they feel as if they had been unjustly
treated, had been deprived of that which of right belonged
to them, and they look for the sympathy of men. Thus
multitudes manage to spend their days in darkness and
distress, where to the healthy spirit all would be light and
joy. So much for our imaginary woes, the sorrows of our
own creation, the offspring of our own darkened and per
verted spirits. But every heart has its burden of real suf
fering, and death, in some unknown one of its innumer
able forms awaits every one. These are facts that con
front us.
In reflecting upon these twTo facts, we are obliged, in
the first place, to say that they must be consistent with
the supreme controlling fact of the universal and change
less love of God. Reasoning from the facts already ob
served, we are compelled to the conclusion that the same
motive determines these that determine all the other con
duct of God. It must be that suffering and death are the
modes in which infinite love manifest itself under the con
ditions that exist. Not only so, but it must be that these
are the modes of expression of this love that are called for
and necessary under these conditions. This is the a priori
conclusion to which the mind that really believes in the
existence of God is compelled to arrive. Here, indeed, it
must be true that "things are not what they seem."
The question may be asked by any one, how evil could
have entered into the world, how it could have appeared
within the government of God. This question may be
asked by any one, but it cannot be answered by any one.
This is an inscrutable mystery. No finite mind can fathom
it. Dr. McCosh declares that he cannot explain it. We
only know the fact that the dreadful picture of the natural
state of man cannot be adequately drawn. These are the

204
actual conditions under which the love of God makes its
supreme manifestation in the infliction of suffering and
death. I do not wish to dwell upon this subject, which is so vast
and with which in its innumerable phases every one is so
familiar. Still less do I desire to enter upon the discussion
of any of the questions that arise out of it. My only pur
pose is, in the briefest manner, to call attention to the
fact, that human suffering is the necessary expression of the
love of God, being the supreme and indispensible means
by which the beneficent purpose of God regarding man
is accomplished ; and that the divine origin of the Bible is
supremely shown by the fact that it declares this solution of
the great mystery, the solution which all human experi
ence proves to be the true one.
Vicarious suffering involves mysteries to us, as of course
it must do. But we know that the entire inheritance of
civilized men has been bought by the suffering and death
of those who have gone before us. There is no posses
sion that men to-day cherish and hold precious that has
not been purchased for them with this price. These con
stitute the fundamental principles of society. We share
in the possession of these fruits of the suffering that past
generations of men have endured.
Luxury and splendor have left us nothing that can oper
ate as a present personal boon to men, nothing. For all
these things we are indebted to the sufferers who have
lived and died for us. Among these, too, we find exam
ples of every virtue that we instinctively revere, and of
the conduct which it is the highest inspiration of human
ity to imitate. Above all, in wonderful harmony with
this law that all blessings for man must be purchased by
suffering, the Saviour of men, expected as a conqueror,
came as a sufferer, and obtained for mankind its supreme
blessing by His death.
Personal suffering is the means by which men are made
willing to receive, or become capable of receiving in degree
without end, the boon of the new nature which has thus
been purchased for them. Thus violation of the law of
love is made to work its own cure. In the parable of the
prodigal son, it was the want and starvation consequent

205
on his wickedness that drove the prodigal back to his
father's open arms. "Perfect through suffering," heard
through the Bible as its grand undertone, swells at last
into the overpowering note, in which all the harmonies of
revelation become absorbed.
With this agrees all human experience. No one has
attained to any degree of true beauty of soul and loving
harmony with God who does not recognize suffering as
having been the supreme means by which this change of
nature has been effected.
It would be foreign to my purpose to attempt to follow
this subject further. Like all lines of thought, this one
too leads to the hidden, the inscrutable, and the infinite.
The conclusion thus far reached is one to which all shades
of religious belief must assent.

206

FAITH.

When we reflect upon the manifestations of the love of
God which are presented to us everywhere in nature, we
are especially impressed by two of its features, because
of these we can most nearly form a conception. They are
its universality and its persistency. The love of God, as
revealed in nature, is without limit, or preference, or
change. Mechanical science teaches this truth in an im
pressive manner. It is from this science that we derive
all our knowledge, and form all our conceptions, of the
changeless nature of the divine conduct. This enables us
to comprehend, so far as we can comprehend it at all, the
meaning of the language of the Bible on this subject.
The reception of these truths, of the universal and the
unvarying nature of the love of God, seems to have been,and
even yet to be, the most difficult of all things for mankind
to become capable of. It has involved a radical change
in the dispositions of men, a change that apparently could
be effected only in a manner almost inconceivably gradual.
The process of this change, both in its duration and in its
character, suggests the process in operation through geo
logic time, by which the void world of fire and rock be
came transfornaed into the fertile earth, clad in verdure
and teeming with life, and the darkness produced by the
boiling and down-pour of oceans gave place to the glory of
the revealed heavens, and the changing beauty of the
skies. The small portion of the human family, in whose minds,
as the result of a long series of teachings and judgments,
the truth of one personal unseen God had finally become
fixed, secure against the assaults of idolatry, held, with
a degree of fanaticism difficult to be imagined, to the be
lief that this God was theirs alone, to the exclusion of the
rest of mankind. The numerous distinct declarations to
the contrary in their own sacred writings had no power to
shake this conceit. The first recorded teaching of the

207
Christ was directed against it. This teaching consisted
only in the recital of two familiar events in the Jewish
history. But, for the very reason that the obvious deduc
tion from these events could not be avoided, the reference
to them by the Christ exasperated His hearers to such a
frenzy, that they dragged Him to the brow of the hill on
which their city was built, to cast Him down headlong.
In its inception, the Christian church was composed en
tirely of Jews. The converts to Christianity gave up their
dream of the temporal dominion of their race, and accepted
the Christ as a King whose kingdom was not of this
world ; but that the good tidings of great joy should be to
all people, that was more than Jewish jealousy could en
dure. So, as the gospel spread among the Gentiles, the
Jews became united in rejecting it,. Since then they have
listened, in their synagogues every Sabbath day, to the
reading of the Scriptures, in which are contained
such expressions as this : "It is a light thing that thou
shouldest be my servant, to raise up the tribes of Jacob,
and to restore the preserved of Israel; I will also give thee
for a fight to the Gentiles, that thou mayest be my salva
tion unto the end of the earth ;" and they have waited,
all the same, through nineteen centuries, and are waiting
still, for their exclusive Messiah, who shall restore the
kingdom to Israel.
The taming of human ferocity, and the weakening of the
spirit of exclusiveness, neither of which were by any
means confined to the Jewish race, have advanced by such.
gradual steps, that their progress can be observed only by
comparing the state of society at periods separated by long
intervals of time ; and often it has seemed as if humanity
had actually retrograded. In the church of the middle ages
the unbaptized came to take the place, that in the Jewish
mind was held by the uncircumcised, of the hated of God.
So lately as the sixteenth century, William of Orange was,
perhaps, the only man in Europe, who seemed to realize
that it was not the duty of the dominant religious sect,
whatever that sect might be, to use its power for the
punishment of disbelievers in its creed. The best of men
in their turns exercised the very intolerance against
which their own lives were a protest. They knew not what

208
spirit they were of. But it was the spirit of their age.
This fact ought to be taken into consideration in judging
of their conduct. We have no right to arraign them for
having then fallen short of a standard, that is too high
for all but a few even in our own time.
Confining our view now to the Protestant Church, we ob
serve that the same exclusive disposition, in modified forms
of expression, has produced the Calvanistic doctrine of a
limited atonement, now happily in a large degree outgrown,
has attached especial importance, and given especial
prominence and perversion of meaning to the doctrine of
election, and has appeared feeble and ludicrous in " the
unco venan ted mercies" which used to be vouchsafed by the
charity of the churchmen to those outside of their fold.
Harmless traces of the same spirit of exclusiveness still
longer among sects of Christians, who have grown to such
a catholic spirit, that the only thing they cannot tolerate
is the idea of toleration.
When we turn to the Roman Church, common sense, to
say nothing of humanity, stands aghast at hearing eternal
damnation denounced against whomsoever may dare, not
only to deny the spiritual supremacy of the Pope, but
also to oppose his claims to any temporal possession, and
even to resist the despotism of a parish priest. How long,
0 Lord, must the earth continue to witness this awful
farce ! As if the God, whose nature we are feebly endeavor
ing to contemplate, could have committed the eternal state
of even a single soul to the caprice of vindictive men. And
to think of this pretended power being used for the en
slavement of the human conscience.
In spite of revelation, men have found many ways of
creating imaginary Gods after their own image. This was
especially true in the Christian Church in the centuries
preceding the cultivation of physical science. The anal
ogies of a judge and of a king, pressed far beyond any
warrant afforded in the Bible, have been made especially
fruitful in absurdities. The familiar examples of these
human potentates, with the well known characters of those
who were most prominent in history, the methods and the
mediums of approach to them, the capriciousness
of their conduct, and the uncertainty of the result

209
in cases of appeal to them, all these associations have
exercised a most perincious influence on the habit of
religious thought. Traces of this influence still appear
even among the most enlightened Christain communions,
while elsewhere these human analogies now hold mil
lions of professed Christains in practical idolatry.
But of greater power, to blind the human mind to the
true conception of God, than even man's exclusiveness
and intolerance, and misleading human analogies, have
been the deep and lasting impressions that have been left
upon the Church by Paganism. From Paganism the
church has, among other things, derived the priest and
the sacrifice, which is a remnant, not of Hebrew, but of
pagan rites, the queen of heaven, the canonization or semi-
deification of men, the ideas of informing and of appeas
ing au absent and angry God, and the doctrine of purga
tory. On this last suggestion the church seems to have
improved. The schoolboy reads the original fable in his
Virgil, but we do not learn that the priests of Jupiter ever
thought of the stupendous account to which it could be
turned. But above all, the church received from heathen an
tiquity the dogmas, that ignorance is the mother of devo
tion, and that reason and faith are antagonistic to each other.
In their original application these dogmas were perfectly
true. There could be no reconciliation between the phi
losophy of Greece, in the ages of its maturity, and the
system of classic mythology. The philosophers then real
ized, perhaps as clearly as we do now, that the deities,
who received the adoration of the vulgar, whose worship
was woven into the fabrics of their domestic and social
and political life, in whose temples and images art gave
expressions to its loftiest conceptions, the stories of whose
births and deeds constituted the chief intellectual posses
sion of the multitude, and the imposing ritual of whose
service awed and held captive their imaginations, were all
airy nothings, who from the poet's pen had received their
"names and habitations." So when philosophy and Pa
ganism met in the same communities, nothing could be
more true than were these two dogmas. Ignorance was

210
the mother of devotion, and between reason and credulity,
miscalled faith, there was complete antagonism.
As the Christian Church degenerated into a mighty
system of imposture, with which it combined a system of
extortion that paganism never knew, it naturally accepted
and made full practical use of this legacy, the endurance
of which has seemed to be one of the phenomena of his
tory. The fact is, these maxims of Paganism have en
dured, and still endure, because they are true in their
application to all human substitutes for true religion.
While the latter demands the exercise of the highest in
telligence, every form of the human counterfeit shuns its
searching light. Moreover, the merely traditionary in
fluence of those dogmas, especially of that one which
declares an antagonism between reason and faith, is felt
universally even to this day; and that in a degree that
illustrates how difficult a thing it is for the mind to shake
off the chains of a falsehood that bears the stamp of age
upon it. This dogma still exercises an insidious power,
even where religion has been most cleansed from man's
defilement, and over minds by whom the naked proposi
tion, in its terms, would be instantly rejected.
But 0, my friend, let us get away from these exhibi
tions of human infirmity, and cast off from our spirits
the spell of their misleading and contracting and degrad
ing influences, and come forth into the presence of the
God of all revelation. So far, too, as we may, let us rise
above the effects of familarity with the amazing exhibi
tions of his love, and behold this love as, universal and
changeless, it enfolds us on every side. Let us lift our
eyes to to the heavens, where the Almighty has written
his name, and see the sun forever shining in his strength,
not with partial glory, but to quicken into life and glad
ness alike each individual being, to reveal alike every
object, to penetrate every eye. Let us look upon the
earth, that cannot forget one grain of sand. And as we
behold vthis glory and realize this care, and as we feel
the animating breath of the universal air, let us receive
into our minds the great truth, that everything was in
tended to promote the growth, and to encourage the exer
cise, of faith toward God in the soul of man.

211
This faith can, of course, have no existence, where
there is no perception of God in his works. Where the
unmeaning expression, "the uniform course and constitu
tion of nature," rises like a wall before the sight, and
the spirit feels no impulse to penetrate beyond this
senseless jargon, beyond which all truth in reality lies,
nothing but darkness is possible. But to the illumined
spirit, that sees in all the activities of nature the eternal
faithfulness of the infinite Father, the unvarying activity
of his love, that realizes how, in its utter helplessness, it is
every moment carried in his arms, and folded to his
bosom, that feels the rapture of conscious participation in
his affection, to such a spirit faith is the natural and
necessary state.
In the perception of the changeless nature of the
universal and infinite love of God we find the real and
only ground of faith. It is obvious, that faith follows
necessarily from this perception, and must exist in the
soul just in the degree in which the perception itself be
comes clear and distinct. The two are inseparable. Faith
cannot exist where the love is not perceived, and it cannot
be wanting where it is perceived. It must co-exist with
the apprehension of this love, just according to the degree
of its apprehension.
We conclude, therefore, that "reason" and faith must
harmonize just in the degree that " reason " has the facts
presented in consciousness ; all of which facts are necessary
in order that "the reason " shall arrive at a correct conclu
sion. The harmony between " reason " and faith must
become more complete as the spiritual comprehension
grows larger, and as the images that are formed in cons
ciousness by the highest modes of our spiritual activity
became more distinct.
As this symmetrical intellectual and emotional develop
ment of our nature goes on, we must perceive more and
more clearly the analogies with which the creation is filled,
that illustrate the relation of the soul of man to God.
Everything tells us, with continually more clear and de
lightful voice, the everlasting story of our Father's love.
As we know that the earth will not fly away and leave us
desolate in space, so we know that nothing can ever sepa-

212
rate us from the Infinite Being, between whom and us ex
ists the attraction of love.
Two results follow from the development of faith ; or
rather, two things attend this development and grow in
degree with it. The first of these is the perception or
realization of the truth, that the state of harmony with the
nature of God is the only real good, and the want of this
harmony is the only real evil ; that all other seeming good
or ill is really so, and is to be desired or to be dreaded,
only as it will promote, or will hinder the attainment of
this state of harmony, which becomes the object of su
preme and exclusive longing, just in the degree that the
spirit has already attained to it. The individual of necessity
in the same degree rises superior to the vicissitudes of
time. External conditions have less and less power to
affect his repose. He becomes able even to glory in tribu
lation. He knows that trials and distresses are the crown
ing assurance of the love of the Father, who by these
means draws the soul more closely to himself.
The second result is intimately connected with the first.
The spirit has found the source of joy. There is no pes
simism now, no repinings seek for expression now. The
spirit sees in all around it the reflection of its own gladness.
It rejoices in the realization of the truth that this is a good
world, that it is the very best world that Almighty Good
ness could make, that everything in the earth and the
heavens is intended to minister to universal gladness, that
the normal, healthy state of every being is a state of joy.
The spirit rejoices especially in all the influences which
tend to enlarge its powrers and capabilities, and quicken it
into every form of healthy activity. It rejoices in every
thing that helps it to form the grand conception of the
universal and necessary nature of the truth and love of
God, that infinite and changeless reality, of which the
whole nature of things is the mighty manifestation.
Let us turn again to the Bible. Is this book in harmony
with nature here ? Yes, emphatically yes. This depend
ence, this care, this trust, this joy, the Bible is luminous
with all these. In these respects, also, the Bible appears as
the verbal expression of the truth that exists in the nature
of things. About this expression it is also to be observed,

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that it is not such an expression as could be made by any
finite mind. It transcends the degree of our comprehension
of these truths. It is of a nature to raise the mind
gradually to a fuller and fuller apprehension of them ; and
that apprehension tbat is the deepest and the fullest finds
the language of the Bible satisfying, and more than satis
fying. This language is still stimulating. It conveys to
the mind as this becomes capable of receiving it, a sense of
a degree of care and trust and joy to which there is no
limit. This is especially true of the words of the Christ.
When we reflect upon the character of the expressions
that are employed by the Christ for the presentation and
illustration of these themes, we cannot fail to perceive that
the language applies to realities that "are infinite in their
nature, and that these realities are completely apprehended
by the mind from which the language proceeds.

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PRAYER.

I should not have presumed to touch this high theme if
it had not appeared to me that the true view of the nature
and office of prayer grew directly out of the preceding line
of thought ; and that, therefore, the presentation of such
a view in this connection would tend to remove doubts re
specting the efficacy of prayer which exist in minds to
whom these papers are especially addressed. These doubts
have been encouraged by criticism from high scientific au
thority, criticism that was imagined to be based on scien
tific grounds, but which, in reality, proceeded from an en
tire misconception of the subject.
The question is a common one : "How is prayer to God
to be reconciled with the idea of his changeless nature ?"
" If the purposes of God move on eternally to their accom
plishment, like the earth in its orbit, how are these pur
poses to be modified or the events to be affected, in the least
degree, by prayer ?"
This question is not to be answered directly, but it dis
appears, as a reasonable expression, as soon as we have
got a correct idea of the nature of prayer.
The common idea of prayer, and the idea which gives ap
parent point to the above question, has been in a large degree
derived from human analogies, which here, as everywhere
else, are inadequate and misleading. A petition addressed
to an earthly potentate or tribunal or parent is always de
signed to influence the party addressed. It is intended,
first, to afford to this party information that he did not
before possess, and, second, to incline his mind favorably
towards some object, from a previous state of indifference,
or from a contrary inclination. The design of the petition
is always to induce the party to whom it is addressed to
form or to change a purpose, and the result of the applica
tion is always uncertain. All these notions, derived from
these human analogies, underlie, and contribute more or
less to influence or to form, the common idea of prayer to

215
God, so far as this idea has any definiteness in the
mind. It may be added that this idea of prayer is natur
ally formed by minds which have no experimental know!-.
ledge of its true nature. Moreover, such minds may often
be disposed to insist on this conception as being the only
one possible to be imagined, as it is the only one that they
themselves can form. The true nature of prayer is, how
ever, very far removed from any such conceptions.
Prayer is the highest form of cooperative action re
quired on the part of man. It is the cooperative action
on his part upon which the reception by him of the high
est good has been made dependent. In preceding papers it
has been shown that our own cooperation, to the full ex
tent of our ability, is essential to the obtaining by us of
any good whatever. It was shown that there are various
modes of this cooperation, that these modes of necessity
differ according to the nature of the benefit that is sought,
but that in all cases alike the faithful putting forth of our
own cooperative effort is the condition upon which we re
ceive the benefit. We observed that in each case there is
comparatively little of the work that had to be done that
we have been made capable of doing, that the doing of
that little requires the exertion of our utmost efforts, and
that it must always be done by us.
We are not to inquire why this is so. Our observation
and our conscious experience both teach us the fact that
the requirement is a universal one. We cannot imagine
an exception to it. Our own coopei-ative effort is always
necessary, and, other things being equal, we receive every
thing in a degree that is proportionate to the earnestness
and fidelity with which we do our part.
Now the highest possible good of every human being is
not anything of an external or of a temporary character,
neither does such highest good consist in knowledge or in
intellectual power. The supreme benefit that can be con
ferred upon any individual is the transformation of his
nature. The object that is supremely to be desired by
every rational being is, that his own nature shall be
brought into a state of harmony with the nature of God,
or, in the stronger and deeper language of the Bible, that
he shall be made a " partaker of the divine nature."

216
It cannot be conceived that in the case of this supreme
good an exception should exist to the otherwise universal
law, that man should have this blessing alone thrust upon
him without any7 cooperative act on his part. Neither can
it be conceived that, while in all other cases the receptive
state of our being is an active state, in this case only it is
a passive one. In some way, then, man must actively
cooperate in the work of receiving this blessing. There
must be something that he can do, and that he must do,
with all the energy of his nature. There is only one thing
that he can do.
This is to pray. When an individual recognizes at once
his need and his helplessness, in this supreme respect of
the radical and complete transformation of his nature, he
intuitively cries out : " Create in me a clean heart, 0
Lord." Just in the degree in which an individual per
ceives this need and this helplessness, in which their
reality is disclosed to him, just in that degree, of necessity,
wall his supplication be earnest and persevering. Thus it
has been with sincere men in all ages and among all
people, according to the light that each one has possessed.
It is affecting to read the prayer of Socrates as recorded by
Plato : "0 Pan," (that is the All, nature,) " and all the
other divinities whom we adore in this place, give me in
most beauty of soul. "
The fact must be stated again, that the only thing
which man can do towards obtaining this supreme good,
is to make this supplication. This is the form, and it is
the only form, of cooperative effort, that is demanded
from man, as the condition on which alone he can receive
this gift, between which and all inferior gifts there can be
no comparison. Prayer is the mode of effort that is
adapted to the nature of the purely spiritual good that is
sought by it ; precisely as labor and study are the modes
of effort that are adapted to the various forms of inferior
good that are sought by them.
Between all these modes of effort there exists a likeness,
that may not be perceived at first. Both labor and study
are the practical modes of asking for the benefits that are
obtained by those means respectively. In employing
them, we express our desire for those benefits in the only

217
practical way, namely, by putting our minds into a re
ceptive condition, and making use of the obvious means
for obtaining them. So also in prayer, man puts his mind
into the only condition in which it is capable of receiving
this spiritual good, and employs the only and obvious
means of obtaining it. By the obvious means is meant
the means that suggests itself to the mind that is filled
with the desire after holiness, as naturally and necessarily
as the suitable means for obtaining any forms of inferior
good suggest themselves to the mind that is filled with a
desire after them. So labor and study and prayer are the
practical expressions of these different desires, in modes
adapted to the nature of each one.
But the objector may say: " Still, prayer is an effort to
change a result, that, from all eternity, has been fixed in
the purpose of God."
The reply to this objection, which at once exposes its
superficial nature, and reveals the fact that it is founded
upon our own ignorance and limited power of thought, is
this : The objection lies equally against every other form
of cooperative effort on the part of man, or, against all
human activity whatever.
It is true respecting this spiritual benefit, and equally
true respecting all other benefits, that they are alike of
necessity fixed in the eternal purpose, and that at the same
time they are made dependant on our own exertions. But
men do not raise this difficulty in other cases. They are
not at all troubled about the fact that if they do not sow
they will not reap, if they do not observe and study they
will not learn, or if they do not put forth the adequate
effort they will not accomplish any result whatever. They
never think of inquiring what the fixed purpose of God
may be in these respects, or of looking upon their exer
tions as attempts to change the divine purpose. In all
these cases men inquire only what there is for them to do,
and they gird up their loins, and apply themselves in earn
est to do it. So we have no more right, and it is no more
natural to sincere men, to be troubled about the depend
ence of spiritual blessing upon the employment by us of
the means of prayer.
The observation is a familiar one, and is applicable to

218
our work and study and prayer alike, that the means must
be ordained just as absolutely as the result. We can, how
ever, hardly pretend to explain the mystery in which the
whole subject is involved, and which is only one of the
wilderness of mysteries in which we have our being. It
is very certain, however, that such questions should give
us no more concern, and should have no more effect
upon our action, in the case of prayer, than they should
respecting any other form of our mental or physical ac
tivity. A special objection is often urged against prayer, which
is, that no connection can be perceived by us between
prayer and the answer to it, as there can be between labor
or study and their results. The inference that the objector
would like to have drawn is, that because such connection
cannot be perceived by us, therefore such connection can
not exist. In a former paper attention has been called to
the major promise of the syllogism, from which such a
conclusion would follow.
In truth, however, when we attempt to enter upon the
subject of the relation between cause and effect, we at
once find ourselves beyond our depth. We know nothing
beyond uniformly observed sequences. The nature of the
connection between the precedent and the consequent act
is hidden from us in all cases alike. A familiar illustra
tion may make this limitation of our knowledge more ob
vious. In crossing the bay, one looks upon a vessel that
is being towed by means of a line, and then at the moon.
He observes that he can see what compels the vessel to
follow the tug, but cannot see what holds the moon to the
earth. One looking more deeply, however, will perceive
that he cannot discover the compelling force any more in
the one case than he can in the other. What we term the
attraction of cohesion, by which the rope is held together,
is in reality as much a mystery to us as the attraction of
gravitation is. So also, and in a sense that is no more
absolute, the sequence between prayer and its answer, as
well as that which exists between labor and its reward, are
both alike among " the secret things " that " belong unto
the Lord our God."
Prayer is the real desire of the soul. Whatever in its

219
depths the soul longs for above all other things, that is
the object of its prayer. When this longing of the soul
is after the state of holiness, for itself, for others, for all
mankind, then, just in the degree in which this desire
takes possession of the soul, and all other objects are lost
sight of in the realization of the incomparable value of
this good, just in that degree does the soul become a
co-worker with God in this supreme sense.
The line of thought which has been followed seems
necessarily to lead us to the conclusion that prayer is the
natural and spontaneous act of the spirit to which God
has in some degree been revealed, and that it is the
mode of men's cooperation with God in the work of His
own restoration to a state of holiness ; that supreme
work to which all man's environment of force and truth
and love and beauty in the physical creation is designed
to contribute, as its ultimate purpose, that work for
which the supreme manifestation of infinite love in the
great mystery of the crucified Christ was given, and
finally that work which all human suffering, also, is
adapted, and so evidently is designed to aid in accomplish
ing. Let us now turn to the teaching of the Bible on this
subject. Here, as everywhere, we shall find the Bible
to harmonize with and to complete the teachings of na
ture. The Bible gives to this teaching distinct expres
sion. It is its audible voice. In the Bible this natural
command to the cooperative activity of prayer, like all
other natural commands, finds living and adequate utter
ance. For our first illustration we turn to the Lord's prayer,
which is the only form of petition that was taught and en
joined by the Christ. Here the following features are first
to be noted. This prayer is to be addressed by every indi
vidual directly to God. No supplication is to be made to
any other being, not even to the Christ, as distinct from
the Father. All intermediate aid is excluded. No crea
ture is to come between the soul and its Father in Heaven.
The very ideas of representation, or of the removal of God to
a distance from the individual suppliant, would seem to be
made impossible. Instead of all this, the language of this

220
prayer assumes the fact that, everywhere and at all times
each individual soul is already and continually in the
immediate presence of God. In all these things we re
cognize what we know to be the truth with respect to
the God of nature.
We come now to the prayer itself. That which is the
supreme object of desire naturally rises first of all for ex
pression, and is longest dwelt upon. So, after the fond
address, expressive of the endearing relations existing be
tween the soul and God, there comes first the prayer for
the coming of God's kingdom, or, in other words, for the
restoration of all mankind to the state of holiness. This
petition is repeated three times, in words which, though
very different, mean in reality the same thing. This three
fold repetition shows the earnestness with which the re
covered soul dwells upon this supreme object.
While the accomplishment of this triune petition in
volves and depends wholly upon the restoration of man
kind to a sinless state, while this is the work, and the only
work, to be done in answer to these petitions, still in their
form these petitions present the glory of God as the
supreme object of desire, and do not, except by this neces
sary implication, refer to man at all. This, it is evident,
is the form in which adoring love must of necessity frame
its supplications.
Besides that which is directly expressed in this three
fold prayer, there are implied in its language two things
which are of the deepest interest. The first of these is,
that there exists now a state of being, in which the will of
God is perfectly done, in which absolute harmony and
unity with the divine nature prevails. The second is,
since we cannot suppose that we have been taught to
utter an idle petition, but rather one that must surely
be fulfilled, that on the earth also, and in the same perfect
degree, God's name shall be hallowed, his kingdom shall
come, his will shall be done.
From the great height of this comprehensive petition,
the prayer now descends to the lowly supplication for
personal mercies. It asks for nothing beyond immediate
necessary provision, and expresses a sense of the absolute
dependence, which is man's real condition. ' ' Daily bread "

221
is an expression that, in the light of all the teachings of
the Christ, it appears certain ought here to be taken in a
spiritual sense. It is a part of that vivid figurative lan
guage, by the contemplation of which we may rise above
earthly wants, even until we reach the mystery of the
divine man, who declared, "I am the bread of life."
Thus regarded, this petition is seen to be a repetition, in
a personal sense, of the former general and comprehensive
ones. The spiritual meaning of this petition is that to which
the greatest importance is attached throughout the teach
ings of the Christ. This subject will be dwelt upon with
more fulness directly.
After this there follows the fearful petition with a con
dition. This condition was directly after explained and
emphasized by the great Teacher, with the assurance that
in the very nature of things it is only the forgiving soul
that can receive forgiveness. Here we discover again the
operation of the law of likeness. Just as the revelations
of truth and love and beauty are possible only to truth
and love and beauty, so forgiveness is possible only to
forgiveness. We recognize another phase of the universal
harmony that runs through the spiritual creation.
The prayer then closes with a petition, likewise repeated
in substance, for the spiritual watch and care of God.
It is to be further observed respecting prayer, that
in order to be effective it must be the habitual state
of the mind. Precisely as in all our other forms of
cooperative effort, so also here, it is the long continued
labor or application of prayer, that are alike demanded
and rewarded. There must be in prayer the same
fixed and habitual concentration of the whole being,
that men who are capable of strong purpose exhibit
with respect to anything whatever about which they are
in downright earnest. And, indeed, prayer calls for this
concentrated and persevering earnestness in the highest
possible degree, as the object that is sought is of incon
ceivably greater consequence than any other object can
be. This1 is illustrated in the prayer of Solomon for wisdom.
The selection of this illustration may perhaps surprise the
cursory reader of the Bible. Indeed the real character of

222
this prayer, in this respect, is generally misapprehended.
So much is this the case, that the answer to the prayer of
Solomon is often cited to show the imagined special and
capricious action of God, in favoring whom he chooses,
without being governed by a general principle. The
erroneous and superficial nature of this view will at once
appear. In considering this petition, we are struck with the fact,
that when suddenly the command was addressed to Solo
mon: "Ask what I shall give thee," the answer of the
youthful King was ready. There was no hesitation about
its utterance. It was also single. He made but one re
quest. Although not limited in any way he asked for only
one thing. He asked for wisdom and knowledge ' ' to
judge this thy so great people," and he ceased.
Now when we reflect upon it, it is evident that this could
not have been a desire suddenly formed, in its singleness
and distinctness, and expressed on the spur of the moment.
This must have been the ripened and absorbing longing,
with which the whole being of Solomon was already filled,
in order that it should rise thus spontaneously to his lips,
and find clear and eloquent utterance, at the instant of
demand. But we are not left to conjecture on this point. In three
places the prayers of David for his son are recorded to the
same effect, and one of these prayers is expressed in this
very same language. The history is thus brought suffi
ciently before us. This had been the habitual petition for
Solomon of his father before him. Solomon had listened
to this petition from his infancy, and had made it his own.
It had become the habitual state of his mind. When the
responsibility of ruling was cast upon him, this longing for
knowledge and wisdom from God became in the highest
degree intensified.
Then, when the instant of test came to Solomon, as it
comes to all without a warning, when the work of years
in the formation of character is to be shown in the act or
decision of the moment, "ask what I shall give thee,"
there could be no struggle, nor any hesitation, because
there was no other desire in his heart, except the life-long
one that filled his whole being.

223
In addition to the Lord's Prayer, much of the teachings
of the Christ relate to the subject of prayer. These in
structions are of the deepest significance. Our present
view of them must be limited and general.
In studying the words of the Christ, we find, among
their many striking features, two with which we are now
especially concerned. These are, their simplicity and,
on appropriate occasions, their intensity. Respecting the
first of these features, it is to be observed among men, that
when, as the result of deep and prolonged study, a person
has become familiar with any particular subject, it is gen
erally the case that his statements and explanations of this
subject become simple and direct, and this just in the de
gree of his familiarity with it. In this respect there is no
human teaching, that can, in the most remote degree, be
compared with the absolute simplicity and directness of
the language, respecting the deepest truths, that was
always employed by the Christ.
But the language of the Christ frequently presents a start
ling boldness of imagery and an intensity of expression
that is entirely unique. In this respect, also, it differs from
all other recorded speech. As the parables of our Lord re
quired for their production, first, an absolute comprehen
sion of the spiritual truths that were to be illustrated, and
second, an intimate knowledge of the duality of the
creation, by which all common and familiar things are
made adapted for the illustration of these truths, so in all
the teachings of the Christ we perceive the same absolute
knowledge of truth, and of the impossibility of its being
compromised by admixture with the least degree of error.
This demanded for its expression the ultimate and hitherto
unknown power of language, language nothing like which
has ever been employed since, as indeed it never could be
by a finite intelligence.
In addition to these features we have everywhere, also,
the form of authoritative declaration. The Christ never
reasons. He assumes the office of declaring spiritual
truth. This he does in language that is plain to the most
simple understanding, and which, at the same time, is
found by the thoughtful student to present depths of

224
meaning that are too profound for human plummet to
sound. All these features characterize the utterances of the
Christ on the subject of prayer. The great primary object
of prayer is distinguished by him with singular vividness.
He commands men to ask in prayer for only one thing, as
its sole appropriate object. He dwells principally" upon
negative instruction. Most of his teaching is directed
to declaring what we are not to seek for in prayer. The
full meaning of the language of the Christ, as this is given
by different evangelists, is believed to be expressed as
follows: 'Have no anxiety about your daily wants.' "Be
not concerned about your part of the universal bounty.'
'Be not tossed on the billows of care.' "For," he adds,
" your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all
these things." "Consider the lilies." " Shall he not much
more clothe you ?" "Behold the fowls of the air." " Ye
are of more value than many sparrows." Who shall
measure the meaning and the tenderness of the language
of the Christ on this subject? Although its significance is
only feebly apprehended, yet it reaches to the heart of the
human race, and is cherished by mankind among their
most precious treasures.
It is to be observed that the importance of this instruc
tion, as to that for which we are not to ask, is emphasized
by the Christ, by the repetition and fulness of illustration
with which he dwells upon it. But there is one thing
about which we are to be ' concerned. There is one thing
which we are to seek, and that with all the earnest
ness of which wTe are capable. "Seek ye the Kingdom of
God." Concerning this kingdom, the Christ gave to mankind
this command and promise: "Ask, and ye shall receive."
This is among the simplest forms of speech, but how much
does it contain ! Let us emphasize the first word, the
command, ask. Now we have presented to us the neces
sity of asking, as the condition of receiving this gift.
We are taught that man must cooperate, in the only possible
way, in the work of imparting to him this supreme good.
A mystery is involved in this necessity that we cannot
fathom. We recognize the fact, however, that obedience

225
to this requirement in the act of prayer is in harmony with
the universal law of cooperation. Here, as everywhere
else, our will must harmonize with the will of God. His
desire to grant must be met by a corresponding desire on
our part to receive. This desire must, in this, as in all
other cases, manifest itself in appropriate activity. With
this voluntary cooperation on our part all the infinite
yearning of the Father may not dispense. This is the uni
form teaching of the Bible, which closes with the symbol
of our cooperative act in drinking: " Whosoever will, let
him take of the water of life freely " However trifling the
act that is required on the part of man, that act must be
voluntarily performed.
These few words have been given to the command. We
now pass to the promise: "Ye shall receive." The Christ
here declares the necessary connection between asking and
receiving this unspeakable gift. In this case also, the
consequence that was attached by the Christ to this
promise is shown by its repetition. It is presented to us
six times, in six different forms of expression, growing in
force to the end. Then in addition a contrast is stated be
tween the certainty of the gifts or expressions of affection
of God and of man, which is important to be dwelt upon, as
proving also the divinity of the speaker. David had said:
" Like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth
them that fear Him." It is to be observed that human
language never went further than this, and that because
it could not. This expressed the uttermost limit of human
experience or power of conception. No deeper emotion can
form its image in our consciousness. But the Christ says:
" If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to
your children, how much more shall your Heavenly Father
give the Holy Spirit to them that ask Him?" How much
more! No finite mind can measure the meaning of these
words. It is only when we consider the faithfulness of
God in nature, as shown in the unvarying uniformity
of His beneficent activity, that we can form in our minds
some notion of the absolute nature of the connection that
is here declared by the Christ to exist between our asking

226
and receiving this spiritual gift. In these words of the
Christ we hear the same voice to which we listen in the
physical creation, declaring His own unvarying truth in all
His conduct. This supreme and inconceivable good is thus
declared to be made wholly dependent on our prayers, and
also certain to be given in answer to them. The Bible, to
which we have appealed, teaches uniformly that prayer
is the mode of man's cooperation in the reception of this
good.

But Christians cling to the feeling that they should pray
to God for everything. They ask if it is not their duty to
do so. Ought not men, they say, to ask God for every
thing for which they are dependent upon him? This
question, which is without doubt pretty nearly a universal
one, shows three things ; a want of faith in God, a feeble
realization of the infinite difference between all earthly
benefits and the single spiritual good, and a disposition to
ignore the positive and earnest command of the Christ. Let
us look at the obvious reasons for this command. There
is, in the first place, unspeakable danger that the desire
after inferior benefits, or to escape from inferior ills, may
take in the mind the place of the desire after the infinite
good and to escape the immeasurable ill; that the lesser
may engross our thoughts and care, and may hide the
greater from our sight. There can, in fact, be no doubt
that this disastrous result is always produced in some de
gree, and generally in a large degree. This tendency it is,
against which these commands of the Christ were ex
pressly directed, and which is to be overcome only by
absolute obedience to them.
It is also to be observed, that there is only one thing,
about which we are certain what the will and purpose of
God is. That is, the re-creation of our nature, of the
natures of all mankind, into his image. This is the one
thing for which we can ask in the full certainty that our
desire is in harmony with the divine purpose. But here we
must stop. Concerning any inferior object of desire, we
cannot generally have the least idea whether its possession
would promote or would hinder this supreme blessing. We

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cannot imagine whether our prayer would be in harmony
with, or contrary to, the beneficent purpose of God. If
the individual is really seeking the kingdom of God, with
the faintest appreciation of its nature, how is it possible
for him to have any desire, respecting anything else what
ever, except to leave it in the hands of God. It would
seem as if, to the soul filled with faith, everything, joy or
sorrow, prosperity or adversity, health or sickness, life or
death, would be equally welcome, because equally certain
to be the means that its Heavenly Father was employing
to convey to it the single and priceless object of its desire.
This seems to be the only correct mode of reasoning on
the subject. And when we cast our eyes about us, how
often do we see the possession of apparent temporary good
to be a curse, an evident and obvious curse, and privation
and distress and sorrow to have been blessings beyond all
price. We turn again to the words of the Christ. "Sell all
that thou hast. " ' Let nothing come between thy soul and
me.' With what tremendous language does he repeatedly
drive this demand through and through the soul. Then
comes the tenderness, and revelation of the method of
divine love: "Blessed are they that mourn." Then the
assurance, while we obey the command : "Seek ye first
the kingdom of God and his righteousness," that without
our asking "all these things shall be added unto you."

In the light of this express teaching of the Christ, we
feel an emotion of awe when we turn back a thousand
years, and read the answer of God to Solomon: " Because
thou hast not asked. * * * I have given thee." Ob
serve the language: "Because thou hast not asked."
Solomon was animated by the single spirit of consecration
to duty. He saw that he must become a means either of
good or of harm to his people. The absorbing desire of
his heart was that he might be kept from the latter, and
be enabled to achieve the former, of these two ends. This
anxiety filled his mind, and it was not possible for him to
entertain any desires of a personal nature. "And God

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said to Solomon : Because this was in thine heart, and
thou hast not asked riches, wealth or honor, nor the life of
thine enemies, neither yet hast asked long life * * *
Behold, I have done according to thy words * * *
And I have also given thee that which thou hast not
asked." A thousand years apart ! The words of God ! " Because
thou hast not asked, I have given thee." " Seek ye
first the Kingdom, and all these things shall be added."

It would seem that with the very beginning of faith
there must come the prompting to leave all inferior
things without anxiety to Him, whose care over every
creature is infinite, and who only can know by what means
to convey to the soul that good which is the single object
of its desire, both for itself and for its fellow beings. This
trust cannot hinder, but, on the contrary, it must quick
en, the individual in the performance of every duty. It
forms the only sure ground of fidelity. It elevates the soul
above the reach of repining. It increases its capacity for
happiness, as well as its ability to impart happiness to
others. It gives to the spirit a serene tranquility that
enables it to exert all its powers most effectively, and so
becomes in the highest degree conducive to its usefulness,
in every occupation and relation of life.
We are brought to this general conclusion, that prayer
is that highest form of our cooperative activity, which has
for its appropriate object the restoration of mankind, of
ourselves, and our race, to a state of holiness, an object
which is inclusive of all those subordinate objects that may
be conducive to this supreme result.

The spirit that lives in any degree in a state of harmony
with the divine nature cannot fail to desire the blessing
of God upon its work, upon that which is the object of its
just and honest effort, wjaatever the nature of that effort
may be. A notable example of this is referred to in the
Introduction to these papers. This desire such a spirit
necessarily feels, and longs to give expression to it.

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The desire itself, however, is commonly vague and indis
tinct, and so the expression of it is often general and indefi
nite. This is a great pity. It would be a gain every way if
in all cases a clear and distinct meaning should be attached
to this petition, and if this meaning should assume definite
expression. On this point, as on so many others, mechani
cal science affords a real help. We may here listen to its
final lesson. It will be the same lesson that we heard at
the beginning. In mechanics, we cannot accomplish any
thing unless our purposes are in harmony with the pur
poses of God. The object of all study and of all experi
ment in mechanical pursuits, is to ascertain those eternal
and unchangeable purposes in order that our own may be
brought into accordance with them.
Intelligent prayer for the blessing of God on our me
chanical work, whether this wrork, as was the case with
George Stephenson, be a bridge across an arm of the sea,
to be built on a plan as yet untried, or whatever it
may be, whether it involve great or small responsibility,
must, it is obvious, be a prayer, first, for such insight as
shall enable us to comprehend all the conditions and re
quirements of the problem, and then for such fidelity and
watchfulness as shall ensure our compliance with these
conditions and requirements in every particular, from the
greatest down to the least and most insignificant. This
must be the prayer. And with this prayer there must be
joined, and of necessity there will be, since it is prompted
by the same disposition, first, the earnest study of these
conditions and requirements, and of the principles and
laws that are involved in our work, and, united with this
study, the ceaseless watchfulness and the faithful doing
of everything that is devolved on us to be done.

The universal application of this lesson is obvious. In
the verbal revelation we have imparted to us the change
less principles that are to govern our conduct in our rela
tions to our fellow-beings and to God; precisely as in the
physical revelation those principles are made known to us
that must govern our conduct with relation to matter. By

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obedience to the former, precisely as by obedience to the
latter, our conduct is brought into harmony with the con
duct of God.
Intelligent prayer for the divine blessing on our conduct
in every situation and station in life must, then, be a prayer,
first, for a clear knowledge of these immutable laws of
conduct, for that complete possession of them, or possession
of ourselves by them, that shall enable us to make faithful
application of them to all the conditions in which we find
ourselves to be placed, and then for such fidelity and watch
fulness as shall ensure our observance of them in every
particular, even the least. This must be the prayer. And
with the prayer, precisely as in the former case, there must
be, and there necessarily will be, joined, first, the earnest
study of these principles of conduct, that will enable us to
perceive at once their application to every case as it arises,
and, united with this study, the ceaseless watchfulness
and the faithful doing of everything that is devolved on
us to be done.

The End.

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