that little structure and the huge fabric of the world,) that it was never contrived or built by any man, but that the stones did by chance grow into those curious figures into which they seem to have been cut and graven; and that upon a time (as tales usually begin) the materials of that building, the stone, mortar, timber, iron, lead, and glass, happily met together, and very fortunately ranged themselves into that delicate order in which we see them now so close compacted, that it must be a very great chance that parts them again. What would the world think of a man that should advance such an opinion as this, and write a book for it? If they would do him right, they ought to look upon him as mad; but yet with a little more reason than any man can have to say that the world was made by chance."*

The world, then, was made ;-there is a designing Power which formed it-a Power whose own admirable nature explains whatever is admirable on earth, and leaves to us, instead of the wonder of ignorance, that wonder of knowledge and veneration which is not astonishment, but love and awe.

"The impious," says an eloquent French writer, "are struck with the glory of princes and conquerors, that found the little empires of this earth; and they do not feel the omnipotence of that hand which laid the foundations of the universe. They admire the skill and the industry of workmen, who erect those palaces which a storm may throw down; and they will not acknowledge wisdom, in the arrangements of that infinitely more superb work, which the revolutions of ages have respected, and must continue to respect, till he who made it shall will it to pass away. In vain, however, do they boast that they do not see God; it is because they seek him, who is perfect holiness, in a heart that is depraved by its passions. But they have only to look out of themselves, and they will find him every where;-the whole earth will announce to them its Maker; and if they refuse still their assent, their own corrupted heart will be the only thing in the universe which does not proclaim the author of its being."+

So completely do we feel this universal assent of nature, in acknowledging the existence of its author, that we enter readily into those poetic personifications which animate every object, and call on them to mingle, as it were, in worship with mankind

To Him, ye vocal gales

Breathe soft, whose spirit in your freshness breathes!

O talk of Him in solitary glooms,

Where o'er the rock, the scarcely waving pine

Fills the brown shade with a religious awe.

And ye, whose bolder note is heard afar,

Who shake the astonish'd world, lift high to Heaven
The impetuous song, and say, from whom you rage.
His praise, ye brooks, attune, ye trembling rills,

And let me catch it, as I muse along.

Ye headlong torrents, rapid and profound;
Ye softer floods, that lead the humid maze

Along the vale;-and thou, majestic main,

A secret world of wonders in thyself,

Sound His stupendous praise, whose greater voice,
Or bids you roar, or bids your roarings fall.‡

To that power which we thus call on them to attest, they all truly bear We assign to them feelings which they have not, indeed, as much

witness.

as we assign to them a voice which they have not; but so strong is the evidence of mind which they bear, that it seems as if we merely give them a voice expressing, in our language what they mutely feel.

LECTURE XCIII.

ON THE EXISTENCE,-THE UNITY,-THE OMNISCIENCE,-THE OMNIPOTENCE, AND THE GOODNESS OF THE DEITY

My last Lecture, gentlemen, was employed in considering the evidence, which the frame of nature exhibits, of the being of its Divine Author.

Of this there appears to me to be only one argument which can produce conviction, but that an argument so irresistible, as to correspond, in its influence on the mind, with the power of him whose existence it forces even the most reluctant to acknowledge. The arguments commonly termed metaphysical, on this subject, I have always regarded as absolutely void of force, unless in as far as they proceed on a tacit assumption of the physical argument; and, indeed, it seems to me no small corroborative proof of the force of this physical argument, that its remaining impression on our mind has been sufficient to save us from any doubt, as to that existence, which the obscure and laborious reasonings a priori, in support of it, would have led us to doubt, rather than to believe.

The universe is that which shows the existence of the Author of the universe. It exhibits a harmony of relations, to perceive which is to perceive design; that is to say, it is impossible for us to perceive them without feeling immediately, that the harmony of parts with parts, and of their results with each other, must have had its origin in some designing mind. I did not conceive it necessary to occupy much of your time, in tracing the various relations of this sort, which the universe presents,-in the small as in the great, in the simple as in the complicated-for there is no need to exhibit a multitude of contrivances to prove a contriver. "Nec avis pennulam," says St. Austin, nec herba flosculum, nec arboris folium, sine partium suarum convenientia reliquit." It is pleasing, indeed, to trace, in every part of the creation, the wisdom by which it was created, as often as any new proof of beneficent intention is discovered by us, in some part, of which the uses were before unknown, but it is pleasing, only from the accession which is thus made to our physical knowledge, and, from the interest which we feel in contemplating the works of a Power which we love, not from any stronger faith which we thence derive in the existence of that Power. He who can examine anatomically, I will not say the whole frame of a single organized being, but even a single organ, and not perceive design,-who can look, for example, at the different parts of the eye, and believe that they exist as they are, without any adaptation to the light which they refract, and to the sentient mind,-who can see the bony socket, which defends so precious an organ from eternal violence, the flexible covering, in the lid, which can be raised

or depressed at pleasure,--that preserves it from injuries of a different kind, the apparatus for preparing a due quantity of moisture to lubricate the ball, and the conduit for carrying away all superfluous moisture, the muscles, that enable us to vary at our pleasure the field of vision, by giving motion to the visual orb, and the soft cushion on which it rests, that these motions, however swift, may be performed without injury,-who, after observing these various provisions that are merely external to it, considers what it is which is to be found within the little orb itself,-the wonderful apparatus, by which the rays of light from a wide field, that comprehends in it objects at many distances, are all made to converge, so as to form one distinct image on the small expansion of the optic nerve,-and the apparatus as wonderful, by which the quantity of light admitted or excluded, is tempered to the delicate. sensibility of the nerve, and this, not tardily at our bidding, since the injury might then be done before we were able to know the danger, but instantly, without our volition, and even without our knowledge that any such process is taking place, he who can consider the small compass within which so many wonders are condensed, and ascribe to chance, what, if invented by a human being, he could not fail to regard as the noblest instrument which wisdom, in all its ingenuity, had ever invented, may indeed, be an atheist,-but such an atheist would continue an atheist, though the whole wonders of the living and inanimate universe were exhibited in succession to his view.

To such a being, if such a denier of the slightest intentional adaptation of parts to parts in the frame of the universe, were truly to exist, it would, indeed, be as difficult to prove the existence of God,-as to prove the truths that are evolved from any process of arithmetical or geometrical reasoning, to one who denied in words, the elementary relations which the separate propositions of the reasoning involve; but we do not rely the less on those truths of demonstration, on account of the mere verbal sophistry which denies them, or professes to deny them, and, notwithstanding the similar profession of scepticism as to design, it is equally impossible for us to consider a single organ like the eye, without believing that there was some one, by whom the beautiful apparatus was contrived. We cannot read a poem or a treatise, without believing that it is a work of human art; nor read the characters of divinity in the universe, without thinking of its divine author.

The manifest order of the universe, in the relation of parts to parts, and of their joint results to other joint results of other parts, is a proof then of some designing power, from which all this magnificent order took its rise; and the great Being, to whom, in discovering design, we ascribe the designing power, is the Being whom we denominate God. The harmony which is the proof of design, is itself a proof of the relative unity of that design. This designing power is one, then, in the only sense in which we are entitled to speak either of divine unity or plurality, as indicated by the frame of nature before us, -for it is only from the phenomena of the universe, that we are capable of inferring the existence of any higher being whatever; and, therefore, as we have no traces of any other being, than the universe, directly or indirectly, exhibits to us, the designing power is not to our reason more than one; since in every thing which we behold, there is unity of that design, from which alone we have any reason to infer a designer. The laws of motion which prevail on our earth, prevail equally, wherever we are capable of discovering motion. On our own earth, where our observation is so ample, in the infinity of objects around us, there is no irregularity or opposition of contrivances, but all VOL. II.

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have proportions or analogies which mark them as the result of one harmonious design. There may be many spiritual beings of greater or less excellence, though there is no evidence of them in nature, for where there is no evidence whatever, it is as absurd to deny absolutely, as to affirm. But there is, as I have said, no evidence of any such beings; and the designing power then, as marked to us by all which we perceive in nature, is one, in the only sense in which the unity of the Supreme Being can be demonstrable, or even at all conceivable by us. The power of which we speak, exists to our reason, only as the author of the design which we trace, and the design which we trace, various as it may be in the parts to which it extends, is all one harmonious contrivance.

This designing unity, that is relative to what we see, is all, however, which we are logically entitled to infer from the phenomena; for the absolute and necessary unity of the Divine Power, as attempted to be proved by metaphysical arguments a priori, that are at best, only a laborious trifling with words, which either signify nothing or prove nothing, is more than in our state of ignorance, independently of Revelation, we are entitled to assert. The unity, which alone, from the light of nature, we can with confidence assert, is hence not strictly exclusive, but wholly relative to that one design, which we are capable of tracing in the frame of the universe.

This one designing power, we are accustomed to say, is omniscient, and, in the only sense in which that phrase can have any meaning, when used by creatures so ignorant as ourselves, to signify our impossibility of discovering any limits to the wisdom, which formed the magnificent design of the world, -the phrase may be used, as expressively only of admiration, that is justly due to wisdom so sublime. He who formed the universe, and adapted it, in all its parts, for those gracious purposes, to which it is subservient, must of course have known the relations which he established; and knowing every relation of every thing existing, he may truly be said to be omniscient, in his relation to every thing which exists. But it is in this definite sense only, that the phrase has any meaning, as used by creatures, whose knowledge is itself so very limited. Beyond this universe, it is presumptuous for man to venture, even in the homage which he offers. The absolute wisdom of the Deity, transcendent as it may be, when compared, even with that noble display of it which is within us, and without us, wherever we turn our eyes, we are incapable even of conceiving; and admiring what we know, an awful veneration of what is unknown, is all that remains for us. Our only meaning of the term omniscience then, does not arrogate to us, any knowledge of those infinite relations, which we assert the Deity to know. It is merely that the Supreme Being knows every relation of every existing thing—and that it is impossible for us to conceive any limit to his knowledge.

His omnipotence, in like manner, as conceived by us, whatever it may be in reality, is not a power extending to circumstances, of which, from our own ignorance, we must be incapable of forming a conception; but a power which has produced whatever exists, and to which we cannot discover any limit. It may be capable of producing wonders, as far surpassing those which we perceive, as the whole fabric of the universe surpasses the little workmanship of mortal hands; but the relation of the Deity to these unexisting or unknown objects, is beyond the feebleness of our praise, as it is beyond the arrogance of our conception.

God, then, the Author of the universe, exists. He exists, with a wisdom,

which could comprehend every thing that fills infinity, in one great design,— with a power, which could fill infinity itself, with the splendid wonders that are, wherever we endeavour to extend our search. We know no limit to his wisdom, for all the knowledge which we are capable of acquiring flows from him, as from its source; we know nothing which can limit his power, for every thing of which we know the existence, is the work of his hand.

God, then, thus wise and powerful, exists, and we are subject to his sway. We are subject to his sway: but if all which we knew of his nature were his mere power and wisdom, the inquiry most interesting to us, would still remain. The awful power, to which we perceive no limit, may be the sway of a tyrant, with greater means of tyranny, than any earthly despot can possess, or it may be the sway of a Father who has more than parental fondness, and a power of blessing far more extensive, than any parental power, which is but a shadow, and a faint shadow, of the Divine goodness that has conferred it. If we were suddenly carried away into captivity, and sold as slaves, how eager should we be to discover whether our task-master were kind or cruel,-whether we could venture to look to him with hope, or only with the terror which they feel, who are to see constantly above them a power which is to be exercised only in oppression, or whose kindness of a moment is the short interval of hours of tyranny. But I will not use such an illustration in speaking of God and man. The paternal and filial relation is the only one which can be considered as faintly representing it; and to what son can it be indifferent, whether his father be gentle or severe? The goodness of God is, of all subjects of inquiry, that which is most interesting to us. It is the goodness of him to whom we owe, not merely that we exist, but that we are happy or miserable now, and according to which we are to hope or fear for a future, that is not limited to a few years, but extends through all the ages of immortality. Have we, then, reason to believe that God is good? that the designing power, which it is impossible for us not to perceive and admit, is a power of cruelty or kindness? Of whom is this the question? of those whose whole life has been a continued display of the bountiful provision of Heaven from the first moment at which life began.

It is the inquiry of those, who, by the goodness of that God, whose goodness they question, found, on their very entrance into this scene of life, sources of friendship already provided for them, merely because they had wants that already required friendship,-whose first years, were years of cheerfulness almost uninterrupted, as if existence were all that is necessary for happiness, to whom, in after life, almost every exertion which they were capable of making, was a pleasure, and almost every object which met their eye, a sense of direct gratification, or of knowledge, which was itself delightful,-who were not formed to be only thus selfishly happy, but seemed called, by some propitious voice of nature, to the diffusion of happiness, by the enjoyment which arose from that very diffusion,-and warned from injuring others, by the pain which accompanied the very wish of doing evil, and the still greater pain of remorse, when evil had at any time been intentionally inflicted. Nor is it to be counted a slight part of the goodness of God, that he has given us that very goodness as an object of our thought, and has thus opened to us, inexhaustibly, a pure and sublime pleasure in the contemplation of those divine qualities, which are themselves the source of all the pleasures that we feel.

Such is the goodness of God, in its relation to mankind, in infancy, in