b'THE BEIDGEWATER TEEATISES \n\n\n\nPOWER, WISDOM, AND GOODNESS OF GOD, AS MANIFESTED \nIN THE CREATION. \n\n\n\nASTEONOMY AND GENEEAL PHYSICS CONSIDEEED \nWITH EEFEEENCE TO NATUEAL THEOLOGY. \n\n\n\nBy WILLIAM WHEWELL, D.D. \n\n\n\nSEVENTH EDITION. \n\n\n\nET HiEC DE DEO, DE QUO UTIQUE EX PH^NOMENIS DISSEEEEE AD \nPHILOSOPHIAM NATURALEM PERTINET. \n\nNE^yTOi^, Conclusion of the Principia. \n\n\n\nASTRONOMY \n\n\n\nGENERAL PHYSICS \n\n\n\nCONSIDERED WITH REFERENCE TO \n\n\n\nNATUEAL THEOLOGY. \n\n\n\nWILLIAM WHEWELL, D.D. \n\nMASTER OF TRINITY COLLEGE AND PROFESSOR OF MORAL PHILOSOPHY \nIN THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE. \n\n\n\nLONDON" : \n\nH. G. BOHN, YORK STREET, COVENT GARDEN. \n1852. \n\n\n\nLONDON : \n\nBRADBURY AND EVANS, PRINTERS, WHITEFEIARS. \n\n\n\ntransfer frot. \npat. 0\xc2\xab\xc2\xab* I-i^\' \n\n\n\nTO \n\nTHE RIGHT HONOURABLE AND RIGHT REVEREND \n\nCHAELES JAJ^IES, \nLORD BISHOP OF LONDON. \n\nMy Lord, \n\nI owe it to you that I was selected for the task \n|L ali:empted in the following pages, a distinction which I feel \nbe honourable ; and on this account alone I should have \nI a peculiar pleasure in dedicating the work to your Lordship. \nI do so with additional gratification on another account : \nthe Treatise has been written within the walls of the College \nof which your Lordship was formerly a resident member, \nand its merits, if it have any, are mainly due to the spirit \nand habits of the place. The society is always pleased and \nproud to recollect that a person of the eminent talents and \nhigh character of your Lordship is one of its members ; and \nI am persuaded that any effort in the cause of letters and \nreligion coming from that quarter, will ha^e for you an \ninterest beyond what it would otherwise possess. \n\nThe subject proposed to me was limited ; my prescribed \nobject is to lead the friends of religion to look with confidence \n\n\n\nvi \n\n\n\nDEDICATION. \n\n\n\nand pleasure on the progress of the physical sciences, by \nshowing how admirably every advance in our knowledge of \nthe universe harmonizes with the belief of a most wise and \ngood Grod. To do this effectually may be, I trust, a useful \nlabour. Yet, I feel most deeply, what I would take this \noccasion to express, that this, and all that the speculator \nconcerning Natural Theology can do, is utterly insufficient \nfor the great ends of Eeligion ; namely, for the purpose of \nreforming men\'s lives, of purifying and elevating their \ncharacters, of preparing them for a more exalted state of \nbeing. It is the need of something fitted to do this, which \ngives to Eeligion its vast and incomparable importance ; and \nthis can, I well know, be achieved only by that Eevealed \nEeligion of which we are ministers, but on which the plan \nof the present work did not allow me to dwell. \n\nThat Divine Providence may prosper the labours of your \nLordship and of all who are joined with you in the task of \nmaintaining and promoting this Eeligion, is, my Lord, the \nearnest wish and prayer of \n\nTour very faithful \n\nand much obliged Servant, \n\nWILLIAM WHEWELL. \n\n\n\nTrinity College, Cambridge, \nFel. 25 1833, \n\n\n\nCONTENTS. \n\n[Within the last few years, several works have been published in this country on \nsubjects more or less closely approaching to that here treated. It naay, therefore, \nbe not superfluous to say that the Author of the following pages believes that he \nhas not borrowed any of his views or illustrations from recent English writers \non Natural Theology.] \n\nPAGE \n\nINTRODUCTION. \n\nI. Object of the present Treatise 1 \n\nII. On Laws of Nature 5 \n\nIII. Mutual Adaptation of Laws of Nature .... 9 \n\nIV. Division of the Subject 12 \n\nBOOK 1. \n\nTERRESTRIAL ADAPTATIONS 14 \n\nL The Length of the Year 18 \n\nIL The Length of the Day 28 \n\nIII. The Mass of the Earth 35 \n\nIV. The Magnitude of the Ocean 44 \n\nV. The Magnitude of the Atmosphere . . . ..45 \n\nVI. The Constancy and Variety of Climates . , .47 \nVII. The Variety of Organization corresponding to the Variety \n\nof Climate 53 \n\nVIII. The Constituents of Climate 64 \n\nThe Laws of Heat with respect to the Earth . . . 65 \nIX. The Laws of Heat with respect to Water . . , .68 \n\nX. The Laws of Heat with respect to Air . . . . 82 \n\nXI. The Laws of Electricity 94 \n\nXII. The Laws of Magnetism 96 \n\nXIIL The Properties of Light with regard to Vegetation . .98 \n\nXIV. Sound iQQ \n\nXV. The Atmosphere . . . . . . \xe2\x80\x9e .*107 \n\nXVL Light \' . " . \' 109 \n\nXVIL The Ether ^ . . ^ \n\nXVIII. Recapitulation . . , , , 121 \n\n\n\nviii \n\n\n\nCONTENTS. \n\n\n\nEOOK IL \n\nPAGE \n\nCOSMICAL ARRANGEMENTS 126 \n\nI. The Structure of the Solar System . , . . . 128 \nII. The Circular Orbits of the Planets round the Sun . .131 \n\nIII. The Stability of the Solar System . . . . . 136 \n\nIV. The Sun in the Centre 145 \n\nV. The Satellites \xe2\x80\xa2 ... 148 \n\nVI. The Stability of the Ocean 151 \n\n. VII. The Nebular Hypothesis 154 \n\nVIII. The Existence of a Resisting Medium in the Solar System 164 \n\nIX, Mechanical Laws . 180 \n\nX. The Law of Gravitation 184 \n\nXI. The Laws of Motion 198 \n\nXIL Friction 205 \n\n\n\nBOOK III. \n\nRELIGIOUS VIEWS 216 \n\n1. The Creator of the Physical World is the Governor of the \n\nMoral World . . 219 \n\nII, On the Vastness of the Universe 231 \n\nIII. On Man\'s Place in the Universe 240 \n\nIV. On the Impression produced by the Contemplation of \n\nLaws of Nature ; or, on the Conviction that Law \n\nimplies Mind 253 \n\nV. On Inductive Habits ; or, on the Impression produced on \n\nMen s Minds by discovering Laws of Nature . .261 \nVI. On Deductive Habits ; or, on the Impression produced on \nMen\'s Minds by tracing the Consequences of ascertained \n\nLaws 278 \n\nVII. On Final Causes . . . . , \' , . .294 \n\nVIIL On the Physical Agency of the Deity 306 \n\nIX, On the Impression produced by considering the Nature \nand Prospects of Science ; or, on the Impossibility of \nthe Progress of our Knowledge ever enabling us to \ncomprehend the Nature of the Deity .... 314 \n\n\n\nON \n\nASTRONOMY AND GENERAL \nPHYSICS. \n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION. \n\nChap. L \xe2\x80\x94 Ohject of the Present Treatise. \n\nThe examination of the material world brings before \nus a number of things and relations of things which \nsuggest to most minds the belief of a creating and \npresiding Intelligence. And this impression, which \narises with the most vague and superficial consideration \nof the objects by which we are surrounded, is, we con- \nceive, confirmed and expanded by a more exact and \nprofomid study of external nature. Many works have \nbeen written at different times with the view of showing \nhow our knowledge of the elements and their operation, \nof plants and animals and their construction, may serve \nto nourish and unfold our idea of a Creator and Governor \nof the world. But though this is the case, a new work \non the same subject may still have its use. Our views \n\n\n\n2 \n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION. \n\n\n\nof the Creator and Governor of the world, as collected \nfrom, or combmed with, our views of the world itself, \nundergo modifications, as we are led by new discoveries, \nnew generalisations, to regard nature in a new light. \nThe conceptions concerning the Deity, his mode of \neffecting his purposes, the scheme of his government, \nwhich are suggested by one stage of our knowledge of \nnatural objects and operations, may become manifestly \nimperfect or incongruous, if adhered to and applied at \na later period, when our acquaintance with the imme- \ndiate causes of natural events has been greatly extended. \nOn this account it may be interesting, after such an \nadvance, to show how the views of the creation, preser- \nvation, and government of the universe, which natural \nscience opens to us, harmonise with our belief in a \nCreator, Governor, and Preserver of the world. To \ndo this with respect to certain departments of Natural \nPhilosophy is the object of the following pages; and \nthe author will deem himself fortunate, if he succeeds \nin removing any of the difficulties and obscurities \nwhich prevail in men\'s minds, from the want of a clear \nmutual understanding between the religious and the \nscientific speculator. It is needless here to remark \nthe necessarily imperfect and scanty character of \nNatural Eeligion; for most persons will allow that, \nhowever imperfect may be the knowledge of a Supreme \nIntelligence which we gather from the contemplation \nof the natural world, it is still of most essential use and \nvalue. And our purpose on this occasion is, not to \nshow that Natural Theology is a perfect and satisfac- \ntory scheme, but to bring up our Natural Theology to \n\n\n\nOBJECT. \n\n\n\n3 \n\n\n\nthe point of view in wiiich it may be contemplated by \nthe aid of our Natural Philosophy. \n\nNow the peculiar point of ^iew which at present \nbelongs to Natural Philosophy, and especially to the \ndepartments of it which have been most successfully \ncultivated, is, that nature, so far as it is an object of \nscientific research, is a collection of facts governed by \nlatvs : our knowledge of nature is our Imowledge of \nlaws ; of laws of operation and connexion, of laws of \nsuccession and co-existence, among the various ele- \nments and appearances around us. And it must \ntherefore here be our aim to show how this view of \nthe universe falls in with our conception of the Divine \nAuthor, by whom we hold the universe to be made and \ngoverned. \n\nNature acts by general laws ; that is, the occurrences \nof the world in which we find ourselves, result from \ncauses which operate according to fixed and constant \nrules. The succession of days, and seasons, and years, \nis produced by the motions of the earth; and these \nagain are governed by the attraction of the smi, a force \nwhich acts with undeviating steadiness and regularity. \nThe changes of Avinds and sides, seemingly so capricious \nand casual, are produced by the ojperation of the sun\'s \nheat Upon air and moisture, land and sea ; and though \nin this case we cannot trace the particular events to \ntheir general causes, as we can trace the motions of the \nsun and moon, no philosophical mind will doubt the \ngenerality and fixity of the rules by which these causes \nact. The variety of the effects takes place, because \nthe circumstances in different cases vary; and not \n\nB 2 \n\n\n\n4 \n\n\n\nINTEODUCTION. \n\n\n\nbecause the action of material causes leaves anything \nto chance in the result. And again, though the vital \nmovements which go on in the frame of vegetables and \nanimals depend on agencies still less known, and \nprobably still more complex, than those which rule \nthe weather, each of the powers on which such move- \nments depend has its peculiar laws of action, and these \nare as universal and as invariable as the law by which \na stone falls to the earth when not supported. \n\nThe world then is governed by general laws ; and in \norder to collect from the world itself a judgment con- \ncerning the nature and character of its government, we \nmust consider the import and tendency of such laws, so \nfar as they come under our knowledge. If there be, in \nthe administration of the universe, intelligence and \nbenevolence, superintendence and foresight, grounds \nfor love and hope, such qualities may be expected to \nappear in the constitution and combination of those \nfundamental regulations by which the course of nature \nis brought about, and made to be what it is. \n\nIf a man were, by some extraordinary event, to find \nhimself in a remote and unknown country, so entirely \nstrange to him that he did not know whether there \nexisted in it any law or government at all ; he might \nin no long time ascertain whether the inhabitants were \ncontrolled by any superintending authority ; and with \na little attention he might determine also whether such \nauthority were exercised with a prudent care for the \nhappiness and well being of its subjects, or without any \nregard and fitness to such ends ; whether the country \nwere governed by laws at aU, and whether the laws \n\n\n\nON LAWS or NATURE. \n\n\n\n5 \n\n\n\nwere good. And according to the laws which he thus \nfound prevailing, he would judge of the sagacity, and \nthe purposes of the legislative power. \n\nBy observing the laws of the material universe and \ntheir operation, we may ho23e, in a somewhat similar \nmanner, to be able to direct our judgment concerning \nthe government of the universe : concerning the mode \nin which the elements are regulated and controlled, \ntheir effects combined and balanced. And the general \ntendency of the results thus produced may discover to \nus something of the character of the power which has \nlegislated for the material world. \n\nWe are not to push too far the analogy thus \nsuggested. There is undoubtedly a wide difference \nbetween the circumstances of man legislating for man, \nand God legislating for matter. Still we shall, it will \nappear, find abundant reason to admire the wisdom \nand the goodness which have established the Laivs of \nNature, however rigorously we may scrutinise the \nimport of this expression. , \n\nChap. II. \xe2\x80\x94 On La ws of Nature. \n\nWhen we speak of material nature as being governed \nby laws, it is sufficiently evident that we use the term \nin a manner somewhat metaphorical. The laws to \nwhich man\'s attention is primarily directed are moral \nlaws : rules laid down for Iris actions ; rules for the \nconscious actions of a person ; rules which, as a matter \nof possibility, he may obey or may transgress ; the \nlatter event being combined, not with an impossibility, \n\n\n\n6 \n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION. \n\n\n\nbut with a penalty. But the Laws of Nature are \nsomething different from this ; they are rules for that \nwhich things are to do and suffer ; and this by no \nconsciousness or will of theirs. They are rules \ndescribing the mode in which things do act; they \nare invariably obeyed; their transgression is not \npunished, it is excluded. The language of a moral \nlaw is, man shall not kill ; the language of a Law of \nNature is, a stone loill fall to the earth. \n\nThese two kinds of laws direct the actions of persons \nand of things, by the sort of control of which persons \nand things are respectively susceptible ; so that the \nmetaphor is very simple ; but it is proper for us to \nrecollect that it is a metaphor, in order that we may \nclearly apprehend what is implied in speaking of the \nLaws of Nature. \n\nIn this phrase are included all properties of the por- \ntions of the material world ; all modes of action and \nrules of causation, according to which they operate on \neach other. The whole course of the visible universe, \ntherefore, is but the collective result of such laws ; its \nmovements are only the aggregate of their working. \nAll natural occurrences in the skies and on the earth, \nin the organic and in the inorganic world, are deter- \nmined by the relations of the elements and the actions \nof the forces of which the rules are thus prescribed. \n\nThe relations and rules by which these occurrences \nare thus determined necessarily depend on measures of \ntime and space, motion and force ; on quantities which \nare subject to numerical measurement, and capable of \nbeing connected by mathematical properties. And thus \' \n\n\n\nON LAWS OF NATURE. \n\n\n\n7 \n\n\n\nall things are ordered by number and weight and \nmeasure. " God," as was said by the ancients, "works \nby geometry :" the legislation of the material universe \nis necessarily delivered in the language of mathematics ; \nthe stars in their courses are regulated by the proper- \nties of conic sections, and the winds depend on arith- \nmetical and geometrical progressions of elasticity and \npressure. \n\nThe constitution of the universe, so far as it can \nbe clearly apprehended by our intellect, thus assumes \na shape involving an assemblage of mathematical \npropositions : certain algebraical formulae, and the \nknowledge wlien and how to apply them, constitute the \nlast step of the physical science to which we can attain. \nThe labour and the endowments of ages have been \nemployed in bringing such science into the condition \nin which it now exists : and an exact and extensive \ndiscipline in mathematics, followed by a practical and \nprofound study of the researches of natural philoso- \nphers, can alone put any one in possession of all the \nknowledge concerning the course of the material world, \nwhich is at present open to man. The general impres- \nsion, however, which arises from the view thus obtained \nof the universe, the results which we collect from the \nmost careful scrutiny of its administration, may, we \ntrust, be rendered intelligible without this technical \nand laborious study, and to do this is our present \nobject. \n\nIt will be our business to show that the laws which \nreally prevail in nature are, by their form \xe2\x80\x94 that is, by \nthe nature of the connexion which they estabhsh among \n\n\n\n8 \n\n\n\nINTHODUCTION. \n\n\n\ntlie quantities and properties wiiicli they regulate \xe2\x80\x94 \nremarkably adapted to the office which is assigned \nthem ; and thus offer evidence of selection, design, and \ngoodness, in the power by which they were established. \nBut these characters of the legislation of the universe \nmay also be seen, in many instances, in a manner \nsomewhat different from the selection of the law. The \nnature of the connexion remaining the same, the quan- \ntities which it regulates may also in their magnitude \nbear marks of selection and purpose. For the law \nmay be the same while the quantities to which it \napplies are different. The law of the gravity which \nacts to the earth and to Jupiter, is the same ; but the \nintensity of the force at the surfaces of the two planets \nis different. The law which regulates the density of \nthe air at any point, with reference to the height from \nthe earth\'s surface, would be the same, if .the atmos- \nphere were ten times as large, or only one-tenth as \nlarge, as it is ; if the barometer at the earth\'s surface \nstood at three inches only, or if it showed a pressure of \nthirty feet of mercmy. \n\nNow, this being understood, the adaptation of a law \nto its purpose, or to other laws, may appear in two \nways : either in the form of the law, or in the amount \nof the magnitudes which it regulates, which are some- \ntimes called arhitrary magnitudes. \n\nIf the attraction of the sun upon the planets did not \nvary inversely as the square of the distance, the form \nof the law of gravitation would be changed ; if this \nattraction were, at the earth\'s orbit, of a different value \nfrom its present one, the arbitrary magnitude would be \n\n\n\nADAPTATION OF LAWS. \n\n\n\n9 \n\n\n\nclianged ; and it will appear, iii a subsequent part of \nthis work, that either change would, so far as we can \ntrace its consequences, be detrimental. The form of \nthe law determines in what manner the facts shall \ntake place ; the arbitrary magnitude determines how" \nfast, how far, how soon ; the one gives a model, the \nother a measure, of the phenomenon ; the one draws \nthe plan, the other gives the scale, on which it is to \nbe executed; the one gives the rule, the other the rate. \nIf either were wrongly taken, the result would be \nwrong too. \n\nChap. III. \xe2\x80\x94 Mutual Adaptation in the Laws of Nature. \n\nTo ascertain such laws of nature as we have been \ndescribing, is the peculiar business of science. It is \nonly with regard to a very small portion of the appear- \nances of the universe, that science, in any strict appli- \ncation of the term, exists. In very few departments \nof research have men been able to trace a multitude of \nknown facts to causes which appear to be the ultimate \nmaterial causes, or to discern the laws which seem to \nbe the most general laws. Yet, in one or two instances, \nthey have done this, or something approaching to this ; \nand most especially in the instance of that part of \nnature which it is the object of this treatise more \npeculiarly to consider. \n\nThe apparent motions of the sun, moon, and stars, \nhave been more completely reduced to their causes \nand laws than any other class of phenomena. Astro- \nnomy, the science which treats of these, is already a \n\n\n\nlb \n\n\n\nINTEODUCTION. \n\n\n\nwonderful example of the degree of such knowledge \nwhich man may attain. The forms of its most impor- \ntant laws may he conceived to he certainly known ; \nand hundreds of observers, in all parts of the world, \nare daily employed in determining, vdth additional \naccuracy, the arbitrary magnitudes which these laws \ninvolve. \n\nThe inquiiies in which the mutual effects of heat, \nmoisture, air, and the like elements are treated of, \nincludmg, among other subjects, all that we know of \nthe causes of the weather (meteorology) is a far more \nimperfect science than astronomy. Yet, with regard \nto these agents, a gTeat number of laws of nature have \nbeen discovered, though undoubtedly a far greater \nnumber remain still unknown. \n\nSo far, therefore, as our knowledge goes, astronomy \nand meteorology are parts of natm-al philosophy in \nwhich we may study the order of nature with such \nviews as we have suggested ; in which we may hope to \nmake out the adaptations and aims which exist in the \nlaws of nature; and thus to obtain some light on \nthe tendency of this part of the legislation of the \nuniverse, and on the character and disposition of the \nLegislator. \n\nThe number and variety of the laws which we find \nestablished in the universe is so gTeat, that it would be \nidle to endeavour to enumerate them. In their opera- \ntion they are combined and intermixed in incalculable \nand endless complexity, mfluencing and modifying \neach other\'s effects in every direction. If vfe attempt \nto comprehend at once the whole of this complex \n\n\n\nADAPTATION OF LAWS. \n\n\n\n11 \n\n\n\nsystem, we find ourselves utterly baffled and over- \nwhelmed by its extent and multiplicity. Yet, in so far \nas we consider the bearing of one part upon another, \nwe receive an impression of adaptation, of mutual \nfitness, of conspiring means, of preparation and com- \npletion, of purpose and provision. This impression is \nsuggested by the contemplation of every part of nature ; \nbut the grounds of it, from the very circumstances of \nthe case, cannot be conveyed in a few words. It can \nonly be fully educed by leading the reader through \nseveral views and details, and must grow out of the \ncombined influence of these on a sober and reflecting \nframe of mind. However strong and solemn be the \nconviction which may be derived from a contemplation \nof nature, concerning the existence, the power, the \nwisdom, the goodness of our Divine Grovernor, we \ncannot expect that this conviction, as resulting from \nthe extremely complex spectacle of the material world, \nshould be capable of being irresistibly conveyed by \na few steps of reasoning, like the conclusion of a \ngeometrical proposition, or the result of an arithmetical \ncalculation. \n\nWe shall, therefore, endeavour to point out cases \nand circumstances in which the different parts of the \nuniverse exliibit this mutual adaptation, and thus to \nbring before the mind of the reader the evidence of \nwisdom and providence, which the external world \naffords. When we have illustrated the correspond- \nencies which exist in every province of nature, between \nthe qualities of brute matter and the constitution of \nliving things, between the tendency to derangement \n\n\n\n12 \n\n\n\nINTJIODUCTIOX. \n\n\n\nand the conservative inflnerftes by wliich such a \ntendency is counteracted, between the office of the \nminutest speck and of the most general laws : it will, \nwe trust, be difficult or impossible to exclude from our \nconception of this wonderful system, the idea of a \nharmonising, a preserving, a contriving, an intending \nmind ; of a Wisdom, Power, and Goodness far exceed- \ning the limits of our thoughts. \n\nChap. IV. \xe2\x80\x94 Division of the Subject. \n\nIx making a survey of the universe, for the purpose \nof pointing out such correspondencies and adaptations \nas we have mentioned, we shall suppose the general \nleading facts of the course of nature to be known, and \nthe explanations of their causes now generally esta- \nblished among astronomers and natural philosophers \nto be conceded. We shall assume, therefore, that the \nearth is a solid globe of ascertained magnitude, which \ntravels round the sun, in an orbit nearly circular, in a \nperiod of about three hundred and sixty-five days and \na quarter, and in the mean time revolves, in an inclined \nposition, upon its own axis in about twenty-four hours, \nthus producing the succession of appearances and \neffects which constitute seasons and climates, day and \nnight; \xe2\x80\x94 that this globe has its surface furrowed and \nridged with various inequalities, the waters of the ocean \noccupying the depressed parts : \xe2\x80\x94 that it is surrounded \nby an atmosphere, or spherical covering of air ; and \nthat various other physical agents, moisture, electricity, \nmagnetism, light, operate at the surface of the earth, \n\n\n\nDIVISION OF THE SUBJECT. \n\n\n\n13 \n\n\n\naccording to their peculiar laws. This surface is, as \nwe know, clothed with a covering of plants, and \ninhabited by the various tribes of animals, with all \ntheir variety of sensations, wants, and enjoyments. \nThe relations and connexions of the larger portions of \nthe world, the sun, the planets, and the stars, the \ncosmiccd arrangements of the system, as they are some- \ntimes called, determine the course of events among \nthese bodies ; and the more remarkable features of \nthese arrangements are therefore some of the subjects \nfor our consideration. These cosmical arrangements, \nin their consequences, effect also the physical agencies \nwhich are at work at the surface of the earth, and \nhence come in contact with terrestrial occurrences. \nThey thus influence the functions of plants and \nanimals. The circumstances in the cosmical system \nof the universe, and in the organic system of the earth, \nwhich have thus a bearing on each other, form another \nof the subjects of which we shall treat. The former \nclass of considerations attends principally to the \nstability and other apparent perfections of the solar \nsystem ; the latter to the well-being of the system of \norganic life by which the earth is occupied. The two \nportions of the subject may be treated as Cosmical \nArrangements and Terrestrial Adaptations. \n\nWe shall begin with the latter class of adaptations, \nbecause in treating of these the facts are more familiar \nand tangible, and the reasonings less abstract and \ntechnical, than in the other division of the subject. \nMoreover, in this case, men have no dif&culty in \nrecognising as desirable the end which is answ^ered by \n\n\n\n14 \n\n\n\nTEERESTRIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\nsuch adaptations, and they therefore the more readily \nconsider it as an end. The nourishment, the enjoy- \nment, the diffusion of living things, are willingly \nacknowledged to be a suitable object for contrivance ; \nthe simplicity, the permanence of an inert mechanical \ncombination might not so readily be allowed to be a \nmanifestly worthy aim of a Creating AVisdom. The \nformer branch of oin^ argument may therefore be best \nsuited to introduce to us the Deity as the institutor of \nLaws of Nature, though the latter may afterwards give \nus a mder view and a clearer insight into one province \nof his legislation. \n\n\n\nBOOK 1. \n\nTERRESTRIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\nWe proceed in this Book to point out relations \nwhich subsist between the laws of the inorganic world, \nthat is, the general facts of astronomy and meteoro- \nlogy ; and the laws which prevail in the organic world, \nthe properties of plants and animals. \n\nWith regard to the first Idnd of laws, they are in the \nhighest degree various and unlike each other. The \nintensity and activity of natural mfluences follow in \ndifferent cases the most different rules. In some \ninstances they are loeriodical, increasing and dimi- \nnishing alternately, in a perpetual succession of equal \nintervals of time. This is the case with the heat \n\n\n\nTEERBSTRIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\n15 \n\n\n\nat the earth\'s surface, which has a period of a year ; \nwith the Hght, which has a period of a day. Other \nqualities are constant, thus the force of gravity at the \nsame place is always the same. In some cases, a very \nsimple cause produces very complicated effects ; thus \nthe globular form of the earth, and the inclination of \nits axis during its annual motion, give rise to all the \nvariety of climates. In other cases a very complex \nand variable system of causes produces effects compa- \nratively steady and uniform ; thus solar and terrestrial \nheat, air, moisture, and probably many other apparent^ \nconflicting agents, join to produce our weather, which \nnever deviates very far from a certain average standard. \n\nNow a general fact, which we shall endeavour to \nexemplify in the following chapters, is this : \xe2\x80\x94 That \nthose properties of plants and animals which have \nreference to agencies of a periodical character, have \nalso by their nature a periodical mode of working; \nwhile those properties which refer to agencies of con- \nstant intensity, are adjusted to this constant intensity : \nand again, there are peculiarities in the nature of orga- \nnised beings which have reference to a variety in the \nconditions of the external world, as, for instance, the \ndifference of the organised population of different \nregions : and there are other peculiarities which have \na reference to the constancy of the average of such \nconditions, and the limited range of the deviations from \nthat average ; as, for example, that constitution by \nwhich each plant and animal is fitted to exist and \nprosper in its usual place in the world. \n\nAnd not only is there this general agreement between \n\n\n\n16 \n\n\n\nTERKESTHIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\ntlie nature of the laws wMch govern the organic and \ninorganic world, but also there is a coincidence between \nthe arhitmry magnitudes which such laws involve on the \none hand and on the other. Plants and animals have, \nin their construction, certain periodical functions, \nwhich have a reference to alternations of heat and cold ; \nthe length of the period which belongs to these func- \ntions by their construction, appears to be that of the \nperiod which belongs to the actual alternations of heat \nand cold, namely, a year. Plants and animals have \nagain in their construction certain other periodical \nfunctions, which have a reference to alternations of \nlight and darkness ; the length of the period of such \nfunctions appears to coincide with the natural day. In \nlike manner the other arbitrary magnitudes which enter \ninto the laws of gravity, of the effects of air and mois- \nture, and of other causes of permanence, and of change, \nby which the influences of the elements operate, are the \nsame arbitrary magnitudes to wliich the members of \nthe organic world are adapted by the various peculia- \nrities of their construction. \n\nThe illustration of this view will be pursued in the \nsucceeding chapters; and when the coincidence here \nspoken of is distinctly brought before the reader, it \nwill, we trust, be found to convey the conviction of a \nwise and benevolent design, which has been exercised \nin producing such an agTeement between the internal \nconstitution and the external circumstances of organised \nbeings. We shall adduce cases where there is an \napparent relation between the course of operation of \nthe elements and the course of vital functions ; between \n\n\n\nTERRESTRIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\n17 \n\n\n\nsome fixed measure of time or space, traced in the life- \nless and in tlie living world ; where creatures are con- \nstructed on a certain plan, or a certain scale, and this \nplan or this scale is exactly the single one which is \nsuited to their place on the earth ; where it was neces- \nsary for the Creator (if we may use such a mode of \nspeaking) to take account of the weight of the earth, or \nthe density of the air, or the measure of the ocean and \nwhere these quantities are rightly taken account of in \nthe arrangements of creation. In such cases we con- \nceive that we trace a Creator, who, in producing one \npart of his work, was not forgetful or careless of another \npart; who did not cast his living creatures into the \nworld to prosper or perish as they might find it \nsuited to them or not; but fitted together, with the \nnicest skill, the world and the constitution which he \ngave to its inhabitants ; so fashioning it and them, that \nlight and darkness, sun and air, moist and dry, should \nbecome their ministers and benefactors, the unwearied \nand unfailing causes of their well being. \n\nWe have spoken of the mutual adaptation of the \norganic and the inorganic world. If we were to con- \nceive the contrivance of the world as taking place in \nan order of time in the contriving mind, we might \nalso have to conceive this adaptation as taking place \nin one of two ways ; we might either suppose the laws \nof inert natm^e to be accommodated to the foreseen \nwants of living things, or the organisation of life to be \naccommodated to the j)reviously established laws of \nnature. But we are not forced upon any such mode \nof conception, or upon any decision between such \n\n\n\n\n\n18 \n\n\n\nTEEEESTRIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\nsuppositions ; since, for the purpose of our argument, \nthe consequence of either view is the same. There \nis an adaptation somewhere or other, on either suppo- \nsition. There is account taken of one part of the \nsystem in framing the other : and the mind which took \nsuch account can be no other than that of the Intel- \nligent Author of the universe. When indeed we come \nto see the vast number, the variety, the extent, the \ninterweaving, the reconciling of such adaptations, we \nshall readily allow, that all things are so moulded upon \nand locked into each other, connected by such subtilty \nand profundity of design, that we may well abandon \nthe idle attempt to trace the order of thought in the \nmind of the Supreme Ordainer. \n\nChap. I. \xe2\x80\x94 The Length of the Year. \n\nA YEAR is the most important and obvious of the \nperiods which occur in the organic, and especially in \nthe vegetable world. In this interval of time the cycle \nof most of the external influences which operate upon \nplants is completed. There is also in plants a cycle of \ninternal fimctions, corresponding to this succession of \nexternal causes. The length of either of these periods \nmight have been different from what it is, according to \nany grounds of necessity which we can perceive. But \na certain length is selected in both instances, and in \nboth instances the same. The length of the year is so \ndetermined as to be adapted to the constitution of \nmost vegetables ; or the construction of vegetables is \nso adjusted as to be suited to the length which the year \n\n\n\nLENGTH OF THE YEAE. \n\n\n\n19 \n\n\n\nreaUy has, and unsuited to a duration longer or shorter \nby any considerable portion. The vegetable clock-work \nis so set as to go for a year. \n\nThe length of the year or interval of recurrence of \nthe seasons is determined by the time which the earth \nemploys in performing its revolution round the sun : and \nwe can very easily conceive the solar system so adjusted \nthat the year should be longer or shorter than it \nactually is. We can imagine the earth to revolve round \nthe sun at a distance gTeater or less than that which it \nat present has, all the forces of the system remaining \nunaltered. If the earth were removed towards the centre \nby about one-eighth of its distance, the year would be \ndiminished by about a month ; and in the same manner \nit would be increased by a month on increasing the \ndistance by one-eighth. We can suppose the earth at \na distance of eighty-four or one hundred and eight mil- \nlions of miles, just as easily as at its present distance of \nninety- six milhons : we can suppose the earth with its \npresent stock of animals and vegetables placed where \nMars or where Venus is, and revolving in an orbit like \none of theirs : on the former supposition our year \nwould become twenty-three, on the latter seven of our \npresent months. Or we can conceive the present dis- \ntances of the parts of the system to continue what they \nare, and the size, or the density of the central mass, \nthe sun, to be increased or diminished in any propor- \ntion ; and in this way the time of the earth\'s revolution \nmight have been increased or diminished in any degree ; \na greater velocity, and consequently a diminished \nperiod, being requisite in order to balance an augmented \n\n2 \n\n\n\n\xc2\xa30 \n\n\n\nTEERESTEIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\ncentral attraction. In any of these ways the length of \nthe earth\'s natural year might have been different from \nwhat it now is : in the last way without any necessary \nalteration, so far as we can see, of temperature. \n\nNow, if any change of this kind were to take place, \nthe working of the botanical world would be thrown \ninto utter disorder, the functions of plants would be \nentirely deranged, and the whole vegetable kingdom \ninvolved in instant decay and rapid extinction. \n\nThat this would be the case, may be collected from \ninnumerable indications. Most of our fruit trees, for \nexample, require the year to be of its i)resent length. \nIf the summer and the autumn were much shorter, the \nfruit could not ripen; if these seasons were much \nlonger, the tree would put forth a fresh suit of blossoms, \nto be cut down by the winter. Or if the year were \ntwice its present length, a second crop of fruit would \nprobably not be matured, for want, among other things, \nof an intermediate season of rest and consolidation, \nsuch as the winter is. Our forest trees, in like manner, \nappear to need all the seasons of our present year for \ntheir perfection ; the spring, summer, and autumn, for \nthe development of their leaves and consequent forma- \ntion of their proper juice, and of wood from this ; and \nthe winter for the hardening and solidifying the \nsubstance thus formed. \n\nMost plants, indeed, have some peculiar function \nadapted to each period of the year, that is of the now \nexisting year. The sap ascends with extraordinary \ncopiousness at two seasons, in the spring and in the \nautumn, especially the former. The opening of the \n\n\n\nLENGTH OP THE YEAR. \n\n\n\n21 \n\n\n\nleaves and the opening of the flowers of the same \nplants are so constant to their times, (tlieir appointed \ntimes, as Ave are naturally led to call them), that \nsuch occmTences might he taken as indications of \nthe times of the year. It has heen proposed in this \nway to select a series of hotanical facts which should \nform a calendar ; and this has been termed a calendar \nof Flora. Thus, if we consider the time of putting \nforth leaves,* the honeysuckle protrudes them in the \nmonth of January ; the gooseberry, currant, and elder \nin the end of February, or beginning of March ; the \nwillow, elm, and lime-tree in April ; the oak and ash, \nwhich are always the latest among trees, in . the begin- \nning or towards the middle of May. In the same \nmanner the flowering has its regular time : the mezereon \nand snow-drop push forth their flowers in February; \nthe primrose in the month \xe2\x96\xa0 of March ; the cowslip in \nApril ; the great mass of plants in May and June ; \nmany in July, August, and September ; some not till \nthe month of October, as the meadow saffron ; and \nsome not till the approach and arrival of winter, as the \nlaurustinus and arbutus. \n\nThe fact which we have here to notice, is the recur- \nrence of these stages in the development of plants, \nat intervals precisely or very nearly of twelve months. \nUndoubtedly, this result is in part occasioned by the \naction of external stimulants upon the plant, especially \nheat, and by the recurrence of the intensity of such \nagents. Accordingly, there are slight differences in \nthe times of such occurrences, according to the back- \n\n* Loudon, Encyclopssdia of Gardening, 848. \n\n\n\n22 \n\n\n\nTERRESTRIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\nwardness or forwardness of the season, and according \nas the climate is genial or otherwise. Gardeners use \nartifices which will, to a certain extent, accelerate or \nretard the time of development of a plant. But there \nare various circumstances which show that this recur- \nrence of the same events and at equal intervals is not \nentirely owing to external causes, and that it depends \nalso upon somethmg in the internal structure of \nvegetables. Alpine plants do not wait for the stimulus \nof the sun\'s heat, but exert such a struggle to blossom, \nthat their flowers are seen among the yet unmelted \nsnow. And this is still more remarkable in the \nnaturalisation of plants from one hemisphere to the \nother. Wlien we transplant our fruit trees to the \ntemperate regions south of the equator, they continue \nfor some years to flourish at the period which corres- \nponds to our spring. The reverse of this obtains, with \ncertain trees of the southern hemisphere. Plants from \nthe Cape of Good Hope, and from Australia, countries \nwhose summer is simultaneous with our winter, exhibit \ntheir flowers in the coldest part of the year, as the heaths. \n\nThis view of the subject agrees with that maintained \nby the best botanical writers. Thus DecandoUe observes \nthat after making allowance for all meteorological \ncauses, which determine the epoch of flowering, we \nmust reckon as another cause the peculiar nature of \neach species. The flowering once determined, appears \nto be subject to a law oi inriodicity and habit.* \n\nIt appears then that the functions of plants have by \ntheir nature a periodical character ; and the length of \n\nDecandolle. Physiologie, ii. 478. \n\n\n\nLENGTH OF THE YEAE. \n\n\n\nthe period thus belonging to vegetables is a result of \ntheir organisation. Warmth and light, soil and moisture, \nmay in some degree modify, and hasten or retard the \nstages of this period; but when the constraint is \nremoved the natural period is again resumed. Such \nstimulants as we have mentioned are not the causes of \ntliis periodicity. They do not produce the varied \nfunctions of the plant, and could not occasion their \nperformance at regular intervals, except the plant pos- \nsessed a suitable construction. They could not alter \nthe length of the cycle of vegetable functions, except \nwithin certain very narrow limits. The processes of \nthe rising of the sap, of the formation of proper juices, \nof the unfolding of leaves, the opening of flowers, the \nfecundation of the fruit, the ripening of the seed, its \nproper deposition in order for the reproduction of a \nnew plant ; \xe2\x80\x94 all these operations require a certain por- \ntion of time, and could not be compressed into a space \nless than a year, or at least could not be abbreviated \nin any very great degree. And on the other hand, if \nthe winter were greatly longer than it now is, many \nseeds would not germinate at the return of spring. \nSeeds which have been kept too long require stimulants \nto make them fertile. \n\nIf, therefore, the duration of the seasons were much \nto change, the processes of vegetable life would be \ninterrupted, deranged, distempered. What, for instance, \nwould become of our calendar of Flora, if the year were \nlengthened or shortened by six months ? Some of the \ndates would never arrive in the one case, and the vege- \ntable processes which mark them would be superseded ; \n\n\n\n24 TERRESTRIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\nsome seasons would be without dates in the other case, \nand these periods would be employed in a way hurtful \nto the plants, and no doubt speedily destructive. We \nshould have not only a year of confusion, but, if it were \nrepeated and continued, a year of death. \n\nBut in the existing state of things, the duration of \nthe earth\'s revolution round the sun, and the duration \nof the revolution of the vegetable functions of most \nplants are equal. These two periods are adjusted to \neach other. The stimulants which the elements apply \ncome at such intervals, and continue for such times, \nthat the plant is supported in health and vigour, and \nenabled to reproduce its kind. Just such a portion of \ntime is measured out for the vegetable powers to execute \ntheir task, as enables them to do so in the best manner. \n\nNow such an adjustment must surely be accepted as \na proof of design, exercised in the formation of the \nworld. Why should the solar year be so long and no \nlonger ? or, this being of such a length, why should the \nvegetable cycle be exactly of the same length ? Can \nthis be chance ? And tliis occurs, it is to be observed, \nnot in one, or in a few species of plants, but in thou- \nsands. Take a small portion only of known species, \nas the most obviously endowed with this adjustment, \nand say ten thousand. How. should all these organised \nbodies be constructed for the same period of a year ? \nHow should all these machines be wound up so as to \ngo for the same time ? Even allowing that they could \nbear a year of a month longer or shorter, how do they \nall come within such limits ? No chance could produce \nsuch a result. And if not by chance, how otherwise \n\n\n\nLENGTH OF THE YEAR. \n\n\n\n25 \n\n\n\ncould such a coincidence occur, than by an intentional \nadjustment of these two things to one another ? by a \nselection of such an organisation in plants, as would fit \nthem to the earth on which they were to grow ; by an \nadaptation of construction to conditions ; of the scale \nof the construction to the scale of conditions. \n\nIt cannot be accepted as an explanation of this fact \nin the economy of plants, that it is necessary to their \nexistence ; that no plants could possibly have subsisted, \nand come down to us, except those which were thus \nsuited to their place on the earth. This is true ; but \nthis does not at all remove the necessity of recurring \nto design as the origin of the construction b}^ which \nthe existence and contmuance of plants is made pos- \nsible. A watch could not go, except there were the \nmost exact adjustment in the forms and positions of its \nwheels ; yet no one would accept it as an explanation \nof the origin of such forms and positions, that the \nwatch would not go if these were other than they are. \nIf the objector were to suppose that plants were origi- \nnally fitted to years of various lengths, and that such \nonly have survived to the present time, as had a cycle \nof a length equal to our present year, or one which \ncould be accommodated to it; we should reply, that \nthe assumption is too gratuitous and extravagant to \nrequire much consideration ; but that, moreover, it \ndoes not remove the difficulty, How came the functions \nof plants to be periodical at all ? Here is, in the first \ninstance, an agreement in the form of the laws that \nprevail in the organic and in the inorganic world, \nwhich appears to us a clear evidence of design in their \n\n\n\n26 \n\n\n\nTEERESTRIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\nAuthor. And the same kind of reply might be made \nto any similar objection to our argument. Any suppo- \nsition that the universe has gTadually approximated to \nthat state of harmony among the operations of its \ndifferent parts, of which we have one instance in the \ncoincidence now under consideration, would make it \nnecessary for the objector to assume a previous state \nof things preparatory to this perfect correspondence. \nAnd in this preparatory condition we should still be \nable to trace the rudiments of that harmony, for which \nit was proposed to account : so that even the most \nunbounded license of hj^othesis would not enable the \nopponent to obHterate the traces of an intentional \nadaptation of one part of nature to another. \n\nNor would it at all affect the argument, if these \nperiodical occurrences could be traced to some proxi- \nmate cause : if for instance it could be shown, that the \nbudding or flowering of plants is brought about at \nparticular intervals, by the nutriment accumulated in \ntheir vessels during the preceding months. For the \nquestion would still remain, how their functions were \nso adjusted, that the accumulation of the nutriment \nnecessary for budding and flowering, together with the \noperation itself, comes to occupy exactly a year, instead \nof a month only, or ten years. There must be in their \nstructure some reference to time : how did such a \nreference occur ? how was it determined to the par- \nticular time of the earth\'s revolution round the sun ? \nThis could be no otherwise, as we conceive, than by \ndesign and appointment. \n\nWe are left therefore with this manifest adjustment \n\n\n\nLENGTH OF THE YEAR. \n\n\n\n27 \n\n\n\nbefore us, of two parts of the universe at first sight so \nremote ; the dimensions of the solar system and the \npowers of vegetable life. These two things are so \nrelated, that one has been made to fit the other. The \nrelation is as clear as that of a watch to a sundial. If \na person were to compare the watch with a dial, hour \nafter hour, and day after day, it would be impossible \nfor him not to believe that the watch had been contrived \nto accommodate itself to the solar day. We have at \nleast ten thousand kinds of vegetable watches of the \nmost various forms, which are all accommodated to \nthe solar year ; and the evidence of contrivance seems \nto be no more capable of being eluded in this case than \nin the other. \n\nThe same kind of argument might be applied to the \nanimal creation. The pairing, nesting, hatching, fledg- \ning, and flight of birds, for instance, occupy each its \npeculiar time of the year; aind, together with a proper \nperiod of rest, fill up the twelve months. The trans- \nformations of most insects have a similar reference to \nthe seasons, their progress and duration. " In everj\' \nspecies" (except man\'s), says a writer* on animals, \n" there is a particular period of the year in which the \nreproductive system exercises its energies. And the \nseason of love and the period of gestation are so ar- \nranged that the young ones are produced at the time \nwherein the conditions of temperature are most suited \nto the commencement of hfe." It is not our business here \nto consider the details of such provisions, beautiful and \nstriking as they are. But the prevalence of the gTeat law \n\n"\xe2\x96\xa0^ Fleming. Zool. i. 400. \n\n\n\n28 \n\n\n\nTEREESTEIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\nof periodicity in the vital functions of organised beings \nwill be allowed to have a claim to be considered in its \nreference to astronomy, when it is seen that their \nperiodical constitution derives its use from the periodical \nnatm\'e of the motions of the planets round the sun ; and \nthat the duration of such cycles in the existence of plants \nand animals has a reference to the arbitrary elements \nof the solar system : a reference which, we maintain, is \ninexplicable and unintelligible, except by admitting into \nour conceptions an intelligent Author, ahke of the \norganic and inorganic universe. \n\n\n\nChap. 11. \xe2\x80\x94 The Length of the Day. \n\nWe shall now consider another astronomical element, \nthe time of the revolution of the earth on its axis ; and \nwe shall find here also that the structure of organised \nbodies is suited to this element ; \xe2\x80\x94 that the cosmical and \nphysiological arrangements are adapted to each other. \n\nWe can very easily conceive the earth to revolve on \nher axis faster or slower than she does, and thus the \ndays to be longer or shorter than they are, without \nsupposing any other change to take place. There is no \napparent reason why this globe should turn on its axis \njust three hundred and sixty-six times while it de- \nscribes its orbit round the sun. The revolutions of the \nother planets, so far as we know them, do not appear \nto follow any rule by which they are connected with \nthe distance from the sun. Mercury, Venus, and \nMars have days nearly the length of ours. Jupiter and \nSaturn revolve in about ten hours each. For anything \n\n\n\nLENGTH OP THE DAY. \n\n\n\n^9 \n\n\n\nwe can discover, the earth might have revolved in this \nor any other smaller period ; or we might have had, \nwithout mechanical inconvenience, much longer days \nthan we have. \n\nBut the terrestrial day, and consequently the length \nof the cycle of light and darkness, being what it is, we \nfind various parts of the constitution both of animals \nand vegetables, which have a periodical character in \ntheir functions, corresponding to the diurnal succession \nof external conditions ; and we find that the length of \nthe period, as it exists in their constitution, coincides \nwith the length of the natural day. \n\nThe alternation of processes which takes place in \nplants by day and by night is less obvious, and less \nobviously essential to their well-being, than the annual \nseries of changes. But there are abundance of facts \nwhich serve to show that such an alternation is part of \nthe vegetable economy. \n\nIn the same manner in which Linnaeus proposed a \nCalendar of Flora, he also proposed a Dial of Flora, \nor Flower- Clock ; and this was to consist, as will readilj^ \nbe supposed, of plants, which mark certain hours of \nthe day, by opening and shutting their flowers. Thus \nthe day-lily {hemerocallis fulva) opens at five in the \nmorning ; the leontodon taraxacum, or common dande- \nlion, at five or six ; the hieracium latifolium (hawkweed)^ \nat seven ; the hieracium pilosella at eight ; the calendula \narvensis, or marigold, at nine ; the mesemhryanthemum \nneapolitanum, at ten or eleven : and the closing of these \nand other flowers in the latter part of the day offers a \nsimilar system of hour marks. \n\n\n\n30 \n\n\n\nTERHESTRIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\nSome of these plants are thus expanded in con- \nsequence of the stimulating action of the light and \nheat of the day, as appears by their changing their \ntime, when these influences are changed; but "others \nappear to be constant to the same hours, and indepen- \ndent of the impulse of such external circumstances. \nOther flowers, by their opening and shutting, prognos- \nticate the weather. Plants of the latter kind are called \nby Linnffius meteoric flowers, as being regulated by \natmospheric causes : those which change their hour of \nopening and shutting with the length of the day, he \nterms tropical ; and the hours which they measure are, \nhe observes, lilie Tm\'kish hours, of varying length at \ndifi\'erent seasons. But there are other plants which \nhe terms equinoctial; their vegetable days, like the \ndays of the equator, being always of equal length ; and \nthese open, and generally close, at a fixed and positive \nhour of the day. Such plants clearly prove that the \nperiodical character, and the period of the motions \nabove described, do not depend altogether on external \ncircumstances. \n\nSome curious experiments on this subject were made \nby DecandoUe. He kept certain plants in two cellars, \none warmed by a stove and dark, the other lighted by \nlamps. On some of the plants the artificial light \nappeared to have no influence (convolvulus arvensis, \nconvolvulus cneorum, silene fruticosa), and they still \nfollowed the clock hours in their opening and closing. \nThe night-blowing plants appeared somewhat disturbed, \nboth by perpetual light and perpetual darkness. In \neither condition they accelerated their going so much, \n\n\n\nLENGTH or THE DAY. \n\n\n\n31 \n\n\n\nthat ill three days they had gained half a day, and thus \nexchanged night for day as their time of opening. \nOther flowers went sloiver in the artificial light (con- \nvolvulus purpureus). In like manner those i)lants \nwhich fold and unfold their leaves were variously \naffected hy this mode of treatment. The oxalis stricta \nand oxalis incarnata kept their habits, without regarding \neither artificial light or heat. The mimosa leucocephala \nfolded and imfolded at the usual tunes, whether in \nlight or in darkness, but the folding up was not so \ncomplete as in the open air. The mimosa pudica \n(sensitive plant), kept in darkness during the day time, \nand illuminated during the night, had in three days \naccommodated herself to the artificial state, opening in \nthe evening and closing in the morning; restored to \nthe open air, she recovered her usual habits. \n\nTropical plants in general, as is remarked by our \ngardeners, suffer from the length of our summer day- \nlight ; and it has been found necessaiy to shade them \ndming a certam part of the day. \n\nIt is clear from these facts, that there is a dim-nal \nIDeriod belonging to the constitution of vegetables; \nthough the succession of functions depends in part on \nexternal stimulants, as light and heat, their periodical \ncharacter is a result of the structm^e of the plant ; and \nthis structure is such, that the length of the period, \nunder the common influences to which plants are \nexposed, coincides with the astronomical day. The \npower of accommodation which vegetables possess in \nthis respect, is far from being such as either to leave \nthe existence of this periodical constitution doubtful. \n\n\n\n32 \n\n\n\nTEREESTRIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\nor to entitle us to suppose that the clay might be con- \nsiderably lengthened or shortened without injury to the \nvegetable kingdom. \n\nHere, then, we have an adaptation between the \nstructure of plants and the periodical order of light \nand darkness which arises from the earth\'s rotation; \nand we find, moreover, that the arbitrary quantity in \nthe two laws, the length of the cycle of the physiological \nand of the astronomical fact, is the same. Can this \nhave occurred any otherwise than by an intentional \nadjustment ? \n\nAny supposition that the astronomical cycle has \noccasioned the physiological one, that the structure of \nplants has been brought to be what it is by the action \nof external causes, or that such plants as could not \naccommodate themselves to the existing day have \nperished, would be not only an arbitrary and baseless \nassumption, but, moreover, useless for the purposes of \nexplanation which it professes, as we have noticed of a \nsimilar supposition with respect to the annual cycle. \nHow came plants to have periodicity at all in those \nfimctions which have a relation to light and darkness ? \nThis part of their constitution was suited to organised \nthings which were to flourish on the earth, and it is \naccordingly bestowed on them ; it was necessary for \nthis end that the period should be of a certain length ; \nit is of that length and no other. Surely tliis looks \nlike intentional provision. \n\nAnimals also have a x^eriod in their functions and \nhabits; as in the habits of waking, sleeping, eating, \n&c., and their well-being appears to depend on the \n\n\n\nLENGTH OF THE DAY. \n\n\n\n33 \n\n\n\ncoincidence of this i^eriod with the length of the natural \nday. We see that in the day, as it now is, all animals \nfind seasons for taking food and repose, which agree \nperfectly with their health and comfort. Some animals \nfeed dming the day, as nearly all the ruminating \nanimals and land birds ; others feed only in the twilight, \nas bats and owls, and are called crepuscular ; while ^ \nmany beasts of prey, aquatic birds, and others, take \ntheir food during the night. Those animals which are \nnocturnal feeders are diurnal sleepers, while those \nwhich are crepuscular sleep partly in the night and \npartly in the day; but in all the complete period of \nthese functions is twenty-four hours. Man, in like \nmanner, in all nations and ages, takes his principal \nrest once in twenty-four hours ; and the regularity of \nthis practice seems most suitable to his health, though \nthe duration of the time allotted to repose is extremely \ndifferent in different cases. So far as we can judge^ \nthis period is of a length beneficial to the human \nframe, independently of the effect of external agents.. \nIn the voyages recently made into high northern lati- \ntudes, where the sun did not rise for three months, \nthe crews of the ships were made to adhere, with the \nutmost punctuaUty to the habit of retiring to rest at \nnine, and rising a quarter before six; and they enjoyed, \nunder circumstances apparently the most trying, a - \nstate of salubrity quite remarkable. This shows, that \naccording to the common constitution of such men, the \ncycle of twenty-four hours is very commodious, though \nnot imposed on them by external circumstances. \n\nThe hours of food and repose are capable of such \n\nD \n\n\n\n34 \n\n\n\nTEEEESTEIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\nwide modifications in animals, and above all in man, \nby tlie influence of external stimulants and internal \nemotions, that it is not easy to distinguish what \nportion of the tendency to such alternations depends on \noriginal constitution. Yet no one can doubt that the \ninclination to food and sleep is periodical, or can \nmaintain, with any plausibility, that the period may \nbe lengthened or shortened without limit. We may be \ntolerably certain that a constantly recurring period \nof forty-eight hours would be too long for one day of \nemployment and one period of sleep, with our present \nfaculties; and all, whose bodies and minds are tolerably \nactive, will probably agree that, independently of habit, \na perpetual alternation of eight hours up and four in \nbed would employ the human powers less advantage- \nously and agreeably than an alternation of sixteen and \neight. A creature which could employ the full energies \nof his body and mind uninterruptedly for nine months, \nand then take a single sleep of three months, would not \nbe a man. \n\nWhen, therefore, we have subtracted from the daily \ncycle of the employments of men and animals, that \nwhich is to be set down to the account of habits \nacquired, and that which is occasioned by extraneous \ncauses, there still remains a periodical character ; and \na period of a certain length, which coincides with, or \nat any rate easily accommodates itself to, the duration \nof the earth\'s revolution. The physiological analysis-* \nof this part of our constitution is not necessary for our \npurpose. The succession of exertion and rej)ose in \nthe muscular system, of excited and dormant sensibility \n\n\n\nMASS OP THE EAETH. \n\n\n\n35 \n\n\n\nin the nervous, apx3ear to be fundamentally connected \nwith the muscular and nervous powers, whatever the \nnature of these may be. The necessity of these alter- \nnations is one of the measures of the intensity of those \nvital energies; and it would seem that we cannot, \nwithout assuming the human powers to be altered, \nsuppose the intervals of tranquillity which they require \nto be much changed. This view agrees with the \nopinion of some of the most eminent physiologists. \nThus Cabanis* notices the periodical and isochronous \ncharacter of the desire M sleep, as well as of other \nappetites. He states also that sleep is more easy and \nmore salutary, in proportion as we go to rest and rise \nevery day at the same hours ; and observes that this \nperiodicity seems to have a reference to the motions of \nthe solar system. \n\nNow how should such a reference be at first esta- \nbhshed in the constitution of man, animals, and plants, \nand transmitted from one generation of them to an- \nother ? If we suppose a wise and benevolent Creator, \nby whom all the parts of nature were fitted to their \nuses and to each other, this is what we might expect \nand can understand. On any other supposition, such \na fact appears altogether incredible and inconceivable. \n\n\xe2\x99\xa6 Chap. lII.\xe2\x80\x94TJie Mass of the Earth. \n\nWe shall now consider the adaptation which may, as \nwe conceive, be traced in the amount of some of the \nquantities which determine the course of events in the \n\n* Rapports du Physique et du Moral de 1\' Homme, ii. 371. \n\n\n\n86 \n\n\n\nTEllEESTEIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\norganic world; and especially in the amount of the \nforces which are in action. The life of vegetables and \nanimals implies a constant motion of their fluid parts, \nand this motion must be produced by forces which \nurge or draw the particles of the fluids. The positions \nof the parts of vegetables are also the result of the \nflexibility and elasticity of their substance ; the volun- \ntary motions of animals are produced by the tension of \nthe muscles. But, in all those cases, the effect really \nIDroduced depends upon the force of gravity also ; and \nin order that the motions and positions may be such \nas answer their purpose, the forces which produce them \nmust have a due proportion to the force of gravity. In \nhuman works \xe2\x80\x94 if, for instance, we have a fluid to raise, \nor a weight to move \xe2\x80\x94 some calculation is requisite, in \norder to determine the power which we must use, \nrelatively to the work which is to be done : we have a \nmechanical problem to solve, in order that we may \nadjust the one to the other. And the same adjustment, \nthe same result of a comparison of quantities, manifests \nitself in the relation which the forces of the organic \nworld bear to the force of gravity. \n\nThe force of gravity might, so far as we can judge, \nhave been different from what it now is. It dex)ends \nupon the mass of the earth ; and this mass is one of the \nelements of the solar system, which is not determined \nby any cosmical necessity of which we are aware. The \nmasses of the several planets are very different, and do \nnot appear to follow any determinate rule, except that \nupon the whole those nearer to the sun appear . to be \nsmaller, and those nearer the outsldrts of the system \n\n\n\nMASS OP THE EAETH. \n\n\n\n37 \n\n\n\nto be larger. We cannot see anything which would \nhave prevented either the size or the density of the \nearth from being different, to a very great extent, from \nwhat they are. \n\nNow, it will be very obvious that if the intensity of \ngTavity were to be much increased or much diminished, \nif every object were to become twice as heavy or only \nhalf as heavy as it now is, all the forces both of \ninvoluntary and voluntary motion, which produce the \npresent orderly and suitable results by being properly \nX)roportioned to the resistance wdiich they experience, \nwould be thrown off their balance ; they would produce \nmotions too quick or too slow, wong positions, jerks \nand stops, instead of steady, well-conducted movements. \nThe universe would be like a machine ill regulated ; \neverything would go m\'ong ; repeated collisions and a \nrapid disorganisation must be the consequence. We \n^vill, however, attempt to illustrate one or two of the \ncases in which this would take place, by pointing out \nforces which act in the organic world, and which are \nadjusted to the force of gTavity. \n\nI. The first instance we shall take is the force \nmanifested by the ascent of the sap in vegetables. It \nappears, by a multitude of indisputable experiments \n(among the rest those of Hales, Mirbel, and Dutrochet), \nthat all plants imbibe moisture by their roots, and \npump it up, by some internal force, into every part of \ntheir frame, distributing it into every leaf. It will \neasily be conceived that this operation must require a \nvery considerable mechanical force ; for the fluid must \nbe sustained as if it were a single column reaching to \n\n\n\n38 \n\n\n\nTEERESTRIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\nthe top of the tree. The division into minute parts, \nand distribution tlirough small vessels, does not at all \ndiminish the total force requisite to raise it. If, for \ninstance, the tree be thirty-three feet high, the pressure \nmust be fifteen pounds upon every square inch in the \nsection of the vessels of the bottom, in order merely to \nsupport the sap. And it is not only supported, but \njoropelled upwards vnih great force, so as to supply the \nconstant evaporation of the leaves. The pumping power \nof the tree must therefore be very considerable. \n\nThat this power is great, has been confirmed by \nvarious curious experiments, especially by those of \nHales. He measured the force with which the stems \nand branches of trees draw the fluid from below, and \npush it upwards. He found, for instance, that a vine \nin the bleeding season could push up its sap in a glass \ntube to the height of twenty-one feet above the stump \nof an amputated branch. \n\nThe force which produces this effect is part of the \neconomy of the vegetable world ; and it is clear that \nthe due operation of the force depends upon its being \nrightly proportioned to the force of gravity. The \nweight of the fluid must be counterbalanced, and an \naccess of force must exist to produce the motion \nupwards. In the common course of vegetable life, the \nrate of ascent of the sap is regulated, on the one hand, \nby the upward pressure of the vegetable power, and on \nthe other, by the amount of the gravity of the fluid, \nalong with the other resistances, which are to be over- \ncome. If, therefore, we suppose gravity to increase, \nthe rapidity of this vegetable circulation will diminish, \n\n\n\nMASS OF THE EAUTH. \n\n\n\n39 \n\n\n\nand the rate at wliicli this function proceeds will not \ncorrespond either to the course of the seasons, or the \nother physiological processes with which this has to \nco-operate. We might easily conceive such an increase \nof gravity as would stop the vital movements of the \nplant in a very short time. In like manner, a dimi- \nnution of the gravity of the vegetable juices would \naccelerate the rising of the sap, and would probably \nhurry and overload the leaves and other organs, so as \nto interfere with their due operation. Some injm-ious \nchange, at least, would take i)lace. \n\nHere, then, we have the forces of the minutest parts \nof vegetables adjusted to the magnitude of the whole \nmass of the earth on which they exist. There is no \napparent connection between the quantity of matter of \nthe earth, and the force of imbibition of the roots of a \nvine, or the force of propulsion of the vessels of its \nbranches. Yet these things have such a proportion as \nthe wellbeing of the vine requires. How is this to be \naccounted for, but by supposing that the circumstances \nunder which the vine was to grow were attended to in \ndevismg its structure ? \n\nWe have not here x^retended to decide whether this \nforce of propulsion of vegetables is mechanical or not, \nbecause the argument is the same for our j)urpose on \neither supposition. Some very curious experiments \nhave recently been made (by M. Dutrochet), wliich are \nsupposed to show that the force is mechanical ; that \nwhen two different fluids are separated by a thin mem- \nbrane, a force, which M. Dutrochet calls endosmose, \nui\'ges one fluid through the membrane : and that the \n\n\n\n40 \n\n\n\nTERRESTEIAL ADAPT ATLONS. \n\n\n\nroots of plants are provided witli small vesicles which \nact the part of such a membrane. M. Poisson has \nfurther attempted to show that this force of endosmose \nmay be considered as a particular modification of capil- \nlary action. If these views be true, we have here two \nmechanical forces, capillary action and gravity, which \nare adjusted to each other in the manner precisely \nsuited to the welfare of vegetables. \n\nII. As another mstance of adaptation between the force \nof gravity and forces which exist in the vegetable world, \nwe may take the ]30sitions of flowers. Some flowers \ngrow with the hollow of their cup upwards : others, \n" hang the pensive head " and turn the opening down- \nwards. Now of these " nodding flowers," as Linnaeus \ncalls them, he observes that they are such as have then* \npistil longer than the stamens ; and, in consequence of \nthis position, the dust from the anthers, which are at \nthe end of the stamens, can fall upon the stigma or \nextremity of the pistil ; which process is requisite for \nmaking the flower fertile. He gives as instances the \nflowers campanula, leucoium, galantlius, fritillaria. \nOther botanists have remarked that the position \nchanges at different periods of the flower\'s progress. \nThe pistil of the Euphorbia (which is a little globe or \ngermen on a slender stalk) grows upright at first, and \nis taller than the stamens : at the period suited to its \nfecundation, the stalk bends under the weight of the \nball at its extremity, so as to depress the germen belovvr \nthe stamens : after this it again becomes erect, the \nglobe being now a fruit filled with fertile seeds. \n\nThe positions in all these cases depend upon the \n\n\n\nMASS OF THE EAUTH. \n\n\n\n41 \n\n\n\nlength and flexibility of tlie stalk which supports the \nflower, or, in the case of the Euphorbia, the germen. \nIt is clear that a very shght alteration in the force of \ngravity, or in the stiflhess of the stalk, would entirely \nalter the position of the flower cup, and thus make the \ncontinuation of the species impossible. We have \ntherefore here a little mechanical contrivance, which \nwould have been frustrated if the proper intensitj^ of \ngravity had not been assumed in the reckoning. An \nearth greater or smaller, denser or rarer than the one \non which we live, would require a change in the struc- \nture and strength of the footstalks of all the little \nflowers that hang their heads under our hedges. There \nis something curious in thus considering the whole mass \nof tlie earth from pole to pole, and from circumference \nto centre, as employed in keeping a snowdrop in the \nposition most suited to the promotion of its vegetable \nhealth. \n\nIt would be easy to mention many other parts of the \neconomy of vegetable life, which depend for their use \non their adaptation to the force of gravity. Such are \nthe forces and conditions which determine the positions \nof leaves and of branches. Such, again, those parts of \nthe vegetable constitution which have reference to the \npressure of the atmosphere; for differences in this \npressure appear to exercise a i)owerful influence on \nthe functions of plants, and to require differences of \nstructure. But we pass over these considerations. \nThe slightest attention to the relations of natural \nobjects will show that the subject is inexliaustible ; \nand all that we can or need do is to give a few \n\n\n\n42 \n\n\n\nTEERESTRIAL ADAPTATIONS S. \n\n\n\nexamples, such as may show the nature of the \nimpression wliich the examination of the universe \nproduces. \n\nIII. Another instance of the adjustment of organic \nstructm-e to the force of gravity may be pointed out \nin the muscular powers of animals. If the force of \ngravity were increased in any considerable proportion \nat the surface of the earth, it is manifest that all the \nswiftness, and strength, and gTace of animal motions \nmust disappear. If, for instance, the earth were as large \nas Jupiter, gravity would be eleven times what it is ; the \nlightness of the fawn, the speed of the hare, the spring \nof the tiger, could no longer exist with the existing \nmuscular powers of those animals ; for man to lift \nhimself upright, or to crawl from i^lace to place, would \nbe a labour slower and more painful than the motions \nof the sloth. The density and pressure of the air, too, \nwould be increased to an intolerable extent, and the \noperation of respiration, and others, which dej)end \nupon these mechanical properties, would be rendered \nlaborious, ineffectual, and probably impossible. \n\nIf, on the other hand, the force of gravity were much \nlessened, inconveniences of an opposite kind would \noccur. The air would be too thin to breathe ; the \nweight of our bodies, and of all the substances sur- \nrounding us, would become too slight to resist the \nperpetually occurring causes of derangement and \nunsteadiness : we should feel a want of ballast in our \nmovements. \n\nIt has sometimes been maintained by fanciful \ntheorists that the earth is merely a shell, and that \n\n\n\nMASS OF THE EAETH. \n\n\n\n43 \n\n\n\nthe central parts are hollow. All the reasons we can \ncollect appear to be in favour of its being a solid mass, \nconsiderably denser than any known rock. If this be \nSO5 and if we suppose the interior to be at any time \nscooped out, so as to leave only such a shell as the \nabove-mentioned speculators have imagined, we should \nnot be left in ignorance of the change, though the \nappearance of the surface might remain the same. \nWe should discover the want of the usual force of \ngravity, by the instability of all about us. Things \nwould not lie where we placed them, but would slide \naway with the slightest push. We should have a \ndifficulty in standing or walking, something lilie \nwhat we have on ship -board when the deck is in- \nclined ; and we should stagger helplessly through an \natmosphere thinner than that which oppresses the \nrespiration of the traveller on the tops of the highest \nmountains. \n\nWe see therefore that those dark and unknown \ncentral portions of the earth, which are placed far \nbeyond the reach of the miner and the geologist, and \nof which man will probably never know anything \ndirectly, are not to be considered as quite discon- \nnected with us, as deposits of useless lumber without \neffect or purpose. We feel their influence on every \nstep we take and on every breath we draw ; and the \npowers we possess, and the comforts we enjoy would \nbe unprofitable to us, if they had not been prepared \nwith a reference to those as well as to the near and \nvisible portions of the earth\'s mass. \n\nThe arbitrary quantity, therefore, of which we have \n\n\n\n44 \n\n\n\nTEEEESTEIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\nbeen treating, the intensity of the force of gravity, \nappears to have been taken account of, in establishing \nthe laws of those forces by which the processes of \nvegetable and animal life are carried on. And this \nleads us inevitably, we conceive, to the belief of a \nsupreme contriving mind, by which these laws were \nthus devised and thus established. \n\nChap. IV. \xe2\x80\x94 The Magnitude of the Ocean. \n\nThere are several arbitrary quantities which contri- \nbute to determine the state of things at the earth\'s \nsurface besides those already mentioned. Some of \nthese we shall briefly refer to, without pursuing the \nsubject into detail. We wish not only to show that \nthe properties and processes of vegetable and animal \nlife must be adjusted to each of these quantities in \nparticular, but also to point out how numerous and \ncomplicated the conditions of the existence of organised \nbeings are; and we shall thus be led to thmk less \ninadequate^ of the intelligence which has embraced \nat once, and combined without confusion, all these \nconditions. We appear thus to be conducted to the \nconviction not only of design and intention, but of \nsupreme knowledge and wisdom. \n\nOne of the quantities which enters into the consti- \ntution of the terrestrial system of things is the bulk of \nthe waters of the ocean. The mean depth of the sea, \naccording to the calculations of Laplace, is four or five \nmiles. On this supposition, the addition to the sea of \none -fourth of the existing w^aters would drown the \n\n\n\nMAGNITUDE OP THE ATMOSPHEUE. 45 \n\nwhole of the globe, except a few chams of mountains. \nAVhether this be exact or no, we can easily conceive \nthe quantity of water which lies in the cavities of our \nglobe to be greater or less than it at present is. With \nevery such addition or subtraction the form and magni- \ntude of the dry land would vary, and if this change \nwere considerable, many of the present relations of \nthings would be altered. It may be sufficient to \nmention one effect of such a change. The sources \nwhich water the earth, both clouds, rains and rivers, \nare mainly fed by the aqueous vapour raised from the \nsea ; and therefore if the sea were much dimmished, \nand the land increased, the mean quantity of moisture \ndistributed upon the land must be dimmished, and the \ncharacter of climates, as to wet and dry, must be \nmaterially affected. Similar, but opposite changes \nwould result from the increase of the surface of the \nocean. \n\nIt appears then that the magnitude of the ocean is \none of the conditions to which the structure of all \norganised beings wliich are dependent upon climate \nmust be adapted. \n\nChap. V. \xe2\x80\x94 The Magnitude of the Atmosphere. \n\nThe total quantity of air of which our atmosphere is \ncomposed is another of the arbitrary magnitudes of \nour terrestrial system; and we may apply to this \nsubject considerations similar to those of the last \nsection. We can see no reason why the atmosphere \nmight not have been larger in comparison to the globe \n\n\n\n46 \n\n\n\nTEEEESTEIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\nwliicli it surrounds ; those of Mars and Jupiter apjDear \nto be so. But if the quantity of air were increased, \nthe structure of organised beings would in many ways \ncease to be adapted to their place. The atmospheric \npressure, for instance, would be increased, which, as \nwe have already noticed, would require an alteration \nin the structure of vegetables. \n\nAnother way in which an increase of the mass of \nthe atmosphere would produce inconvenience would be \nin the force of winds. If the current of air in a strong \ngale were doubled or tripled, as might be the case if \nthe atmosphere were augmented, the destructive effects \nwould be more than doubled or tripled. With such a \nchange, nothing could stand against a storm. In \ngeneral, houses and trees resist the violence of the \nwind ; and except in extreme cases, as for instance, in \noccasional hurricanes in the West Indies, a few large \ntrees in a forest are unusual trophies of the power of \nthe tempest. The breezes which we commonly feel \nare harmless messengers, travelling so as to bring about \nthe salutary changes of the atmosphere: even the \nmotion which they communicate to vegetables tends to \npromote their growth, and is so advantageous, that it \nhas been proposed to imitate it by artificial breezes in \nthe hothouse. But with a stream of wind blowing \nagainst them, like three, or five, or ten, gales compressed \ninto the space of one, none of the existing trees could \nstand; and except they could either bend like rushes \nin a stream, or extend their roots far wider than their \nbranches, they must be torn up in whole groves. We \nhave thus a manifest adaptation of the present usual \n\n\n\nCLIMATES. \n\n\n\n47 \n\n\n\nstrength of the materials and of the workmanship of \nthe world to the stress of wind and weather which they \nhave to sustain. \n\nChap. VI. \xe2\x80\x94 The Constancy and Variety of Climates. \n\nIt is possible to conceive arrangements of our system, \naccording to which all parts of the earth might have \nthe same, or nearly the same, climate. If, for \nexample, we suppose the earth to be a flat disk, or \nflat ring, like the ring of Saturn, revolving in its own \nplane as that does, each part of both the flat surfaces \nwould have the same exposure to the sun, and the \nsame temperature, so far as the sun\'s effect is con- \ncerned. There is no obvious reason why a planet of \nsuch a form might not be occupied by animals and \nvegetables, as well as our present earth ; and on this \nsupposition the climate would be everywhere the \nsame, and the whole surface might be covered \nwith life, without the necessity of there being any \ndifference in the kind of inhabitants belonging to \ndifferent parts. \n\nAgain, it is possible to conceive arrangements \naccording to which no part of our planet should have \nany steady climate. This may probably be the case \nwith a comet. If we suppose such a body, revolving \nround the sun in a very oblong ellipse, to be of small \nsize and of a very high temperature, and therefore to \ncool rapidly ; and if we suppose it also to be surrounded \nby a large atmosphere, composed of various gases; \nthere would, on the surface of such a body, be no \n\n\n\n48 \n\n\n\nTEREESmiAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\naverage climate or seasons for each place. The years, \nif we give this name to the intervals of time occupied \nby its successive revolutions, would be entirely unlike \none another. The greatest heat of one year might be \ncool compared with the greatest cold of a preceding \none. The greatest heats and colds might succeed each \nother at intervals perpetually unequal. The atmos- \nphere might be perpetually changing its composition \nby the condensation of some of its constituent gases. \nIn the operations of the elements, all would be inces- \nsant and rapid change, without recurrence or compen- \nsation. We cannot say that organised bemgs could \nnot be fitted for such a habitation ; but if they were, \nthe adaptation must be made by means of a consti- \ntution quite different from that of almost all organ- \nised beings known to us. \n\nThe state of things upon the earth, in its present \ncondition, is very different from both these supposi- \ntions. The climate of the same place, notwithstanding \nperpetual and apparently irregular change, possesses \na remarkable steadiness. And, though in different \nplaces the annual succession of appearances in the \nearth and heavens, is, in some of its main characters, \nthe same, the result of these influences in the average \nchmate is very different. \n\nNow, to this remarkable constitution of the earth as \nto climate, the constitution of the animal and vegetable \nworld is precisely adapted. The differences of different \nclimates are provided for by the existence of entirely \ndifferent classes of plants and animals in different \ncountries. The constancy of climate at the same place \n\n\n\nCLIMATES. \n\n\n\n49 \n\n\n\nis a necessary condition of the prosperity of each \nspecies there fixed. \n\nWe shall illustrate by a few details, these character- \nistics in the constitution of inorganic and of organic \nnature, ^ith the view of fixing the reader\'s attention \nupon the correspondence of the two. \n\nI. The succession and alternation, at any given place, \nof heat and cold, rain and sunshine, wind and calm, \nand other atmospheric changes, appear at first sight to \nbe extremely irregular, and not subject to any law. It \nis, however, easy to see, with a little attention, that \nthere is a certain degree of constancy in the average \nweather and seasons of each place, though the particular \nfacts of which these generalities are made up seem to \nbe out of the reach of fixed laws. And when we apply \nany numerical measure to these particular occurrences, \nand take the average of the numbers thus observed, \nwe generally find a remarkably close corresx^ondence \nin the numbers belonging to the whole, or to analogous \nportions of successive years. This will be found to \napply to the measures given by the thermometer, the \nbarometer, the hygrometer, the raingage, and similar \ninstruments. Thus it is found that very hot summers, \nor very cold winters, raise or depress the mean annual \ntemperature very little above or below the general \nstandard. \n\nThe heat may be expressed by degrees of the \nthermometer ; the temperature of the day is estimated \nby this measure taken at a certain period of the day, \nwhich period has been found by experience to correspond \nwith the daily average ; and the mean annual tempera- \n\nE \n\n\n\n50 \n\n\n\nTERRESTRIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\nture will then be the average of all the heights of the \nthermometer so taken for every day in the year. \n\nThe mean annual temperature of London, thus \nmeasured, is about 50 degrees and 4-lOths. The frost \nof the year 1788 was so severe that the Thames was \npassable on the ice ; the mean temperature of that \nyear was 50 degTees and 6-lOths, being within a small \nfraction of a degree of the standard. In 1796, when \nthe greatest cold ever observed in London occurred, \nthe mean temperature of the year was 50 degrees and \n1-lOth, wliich is likewise within a fraction of a degree \nof the standard. In the severe winter of 1813-14, \nwhen the Thames, Tyne, and other large rivers in \nEngland were completely frozen over, the mean tem- \nperature of the two years was 49 degrees, being little \nmore than a degree below the standard. And in the \nyear 1808, when the summer was so hot that the \ntemperature in London was as high as 934 degrees, \nthe mean heat of the year was 50^, which is about that \nof the standard. \n\nThe same numerical indications of the constancy \nof chmate at the same place might be collected from \nthe records of other instruments of the kind above \nmentioned. \n\nWe shall, hereafter, consider some of the very \ncomplex agencies by which this steadiness is produced ; \nand shall endeavour to point out intentional adaptations \nto this object. But we may, in the meantime, observe \nhow this property of the atmospheric changes is made \nsubservient to a further object. \n\nTo this constancy of the climates of each place, the \n\n\n\nCLIMATES. \n\n\n\n51 \n\n\n\nstructure of plants is adapted ; almost all vegetables \nrequire a particular mean temperature of the year, or \nof some season of the year, a particular degree of \nmoisture, and similar conditions. This will be seen \nby observing that the range of most plants as to climate \nis very limited, A vegetable which flourishes where \nthe mean temperature is 55 degrees, would pine and \nwither when removed to a region where the average is \n50 degrees. If, therefore, the average at each place \nwere to vary as much as this, our plants with their \npresent constitutions would suffer, languish, and soon \ndie. \n\nII. It will be readily understood that the same mode \nof measurement by which we learn the constancy of \nclimate at the same place, serves to show us the \nvariety which belongs to different places. While the \nvariations of the same region vanish when we take the \naverages even of moderate periods, those of distant \ncountries are fixed and perpetual ; and stand out more \nclear and distinct, the longer is the interval for which \nwe measure their operation. \n\nIn the way of measuring already described, the mean \ntemperature of Petersburg is 39 degrees, of Kome 60, \nof Cairo, 73. Such observations as these, and others \nof the same land, have been made at various places, \ncollected and recorded ; and in this way the surface of \nthe earth can be divided by boundary hues into various \nstrips, according to these physical differences. Thus, \nthe zones which take in all the places having the same \nor nearly the same mean annual temperature, have \nbeen called isothermal zones. These zones run nearly \n\nE 2 \n\n\n\n52 \n\n\n\nTEREESTEIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\nparallel to the equator, but not exactly, for, in Europe, \ntliey bend to the north in going eastward. In the \nsame manner, the lines passing through all places \nwhich have an equal temperature for the summer or \nthe winter half of the year, have been called respectively \nisotheral and isochimal lines. These do not coincide \nwith the isothermal lines, for a place may have the \nsame temperature as another, though its summer be \nhotter and its winter colder, as is the case of Pekin \ncompared with London. In the same way we might \nconceive lines drawn according to conditions depending \non clouds, rain, wind, and the like circumstances, if we \nhad observations enough to enable us to lay down such \nlines. The course of vegetation depends upon the \ncombined influence of all such conditions ; and the \nlines which bound the spread of particular vegetable \nproductions do not, in most cases, coincide with any \nof the separate meteorological boundaries above spoken \nof. Thus the northern limit of vineyards runs through \nFrance, in a direction very nearly north-east and south- \nwest, while the line of equal temperature is nearly \neast and west. And the spontaneous growth or advan- \ntageous cultivation of other plants, is in like manner \nbounded by lines of which the course depends upon \nvery complex causes, but of vv^hich the position is \ngenerally precise and fixed. \n\n\n\nGEOGRAPHY OF PLANTS. \n\n\n\n53 \n\n\n\nChap. VII. \xe2\x80\x94 The Variety of Organisation corresponding to the \nVariety of Climate. \n\nThe organisation of plants and animals is in \ndifferent tribes formed upon schemes more or less \ndifferent, but in all cases adjusted in a general way to \ntlie course and action of the elements. The differences \nare connected with the different habits and manners of \nliving which belong to different species ; and at any \none place the various species, both of animals and \nplants, have a number of relations and mutual depend- \nencies arising out of these differences. But besides \nthe differences of this kind, we find in the forms of \norganic Hfe another set of differences, by which the \nanimal and vegetable kingdom are fitted for that variety \nin the climates of the earth, which we have been \nendeavouring to explain. \n\nThe existence of such differences is too obvious to \nrequire to be dwelt upon. The plants and animals \nwhich flourish and thrive in countries remote from \neach other, offer to the eye of the traveller a series of \npictures, which even to an ignorant and unreflecting \nspectator, is full of a peculiar and fascinating interest, \nin consequence of the novelty and strangeness of the \nsuccessive scenes. \n\nThose who describe the countries between the \ntropics, speak with admiration of the luxuriant pro- \nfusion and rich variety of the vegetable productions of \nthose regions. Vegetable Hfe seems there far more \nvigorous and active, the circumstances under which it \n\n\n\n54 \n\n\n\nTERRESTRIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\ngoes on, far more favourable than in our latitudes. \nNow if we conceive an inhabitant of those regions, \nknowing, from the circumstances of the earth\'s form \nand motion, the difference of climates, which must pre- \nvail upon it, to guess, from what he saw about him, \nthe condition of other parts of the globe as to vegetable \nwealth, is it not likely that he would suppose that the \nextratropical climates must be almost devoid of plants ? \nWe know that the ancients, living in the temperate \nzone, came to the conclusion that both the torrid and \nthe frigid zones must be uninhabitable. In like manner \nthe equatorial reasoner would probably conceive that \nvegetation must cease, or gradually die away, as he \nshould proceed to places furtl>er and further removed \nfrom the genial mfluence of the sun. The mean tempe- \nrature of his year being about eighty degrees, he would \nhardly suppose that any plants could subsist through a \nyear, where the mean temperature was only fifty, where \nthe temperature of the summer quarter was only sixty- \nfour, and where the mean temperature of a whole \nquarter of the year was a very few degrees removed \nfrom that at which water becomes solid. He would \nsuppose that scarcely any tree, shrub, or flower could \nexist in such a state of things, and so far as the \nplants of his own country are concerned he would \njudge rightly. \n\nBut the countries further removed from the equator \nare not left thus unprovided. Instead of being scantily \noccupied by such of the tropical plants as could support \na stunted and precarious life in ungenial climes, they \nare abundantly stocked with a multitude of vegetables \n\n\n\nGEOGEAPHY OP PLANTS. \n\n\n\n55 \n\n\n\nwhich appear to be constructed expressly for them, \ninasmuch as these species can no more flourish at the \nequator than the equatorial species can in these tem- \nperate regions. And such new su]3plies thus adapted \nto new conditions, recur perpetually as we advance \ntowards the apparently frozen and untenantable regions \nin the neighbourhood of the pole. Every zone has \nits xoeculiar vegetables; and while we miss some, we \nfind others make their appearance, as if to replace \nthose which are absent. \n\nIf we look at the indigenous plants of Asia and \nEurope, we find such a succession as we have here \nspoken of. At the equator we find the natives of the \nSpice Islands, the clove and nutmeg trees, pepper and \nmace. Cinnamon bushes clothe the surface of Ceylon;* \nthe odoriferous sandal wood, the ebony tree, the teak \ntree, the banyan, gTow in the East Indies. In the \nsame latitudes in Arabia the Happy we find balm, \nfrankincense, and myrrh, the coffee tree, and the tama- \nrind. But in these countries, at least in the plains, \nthe trees and shrubs which decorate our more northerly \nclimes are wanting. And as we go northwards, at every \nstep we change the vegetable group, both by addition \nand by subtraction. In the thickets to the west of the \nCaspian Sea we have the apricot, citron, peach, walnut. \nIn the same latitude in Spain, Sicily, and Italy, we \nfind the dwarf palm, the cypress, the chestnut, the \ncork tree : the orange and lemon tree perfume the \nair with their blossoms : the myrtle and pomegranate \ngrow wild among the rocks. We cross the Alps, and \n\n* Barton, Geography of Plants. \n\n\n\n56 \n\n\n\nTEREESTRIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\nwe find the vegetation which belongs to northern \nEurope, of which England affords an instance. The \noak, the beech, and the elm are natives of Great \nBritain : the elm tree seen ui Scotland, and in the \nnorth of England, is the wych elm. As we travel still \nfurther to the north the forests again change their \ncharacter. In the northern provinces of the Eussian \nemph\'e are found forests of the various species of firs : \nthe scotch and spruce fir, and the larch. In the \nOrkney Islands no tree is found but the hazel, which \noccurs again on the northern shores of the Baltic. As \nwe proceed into colder regions we still find species \nwhich appear to have been made for these situations. \nThe hoary or cold alder makes its appearance north \nof Stockholm : the sycamore and mountain ash accom- \npany us to the head of the gulf of Bothnia : and as we \nleave this and traverse the Dophrian range, we pass in \nsuccession the boundary Imes of the spruce fir, the \nscotch fir, and those minute shrubs which botanists \ndistmguish as the dwarf birch and dwarf willow. Here, \nnear to or within the arctic circle, we yet find wild \nflowers of great beauty : the mezereum, the yellow and \nwhite water-lily, and the European globe flower. And \nwhen these fail us, the reindeer moss still makes the \ncountry habitable for animals and man. \n\nWe have thus a variety in the laws of vegetable \norganisation remarkably adapted to the variety of \nchmates ; and by this adaptation the globe is clothed \nwith vegetation and peopled with animals from pole to \npole, while without such an adaptation vegetable and \nanimal life must have been confined almost, or entirely. \n\n\n\nGEOGRAPHY OF PLANTS. \n\n\n\n57 \n\n\n\nto some narrow zone on the earth\'s surface. We con- \nceive that we see here the evidence of a wise and \nbenevolent intention, overcoming the varying diffi- \nculties, or employing the varying resources of the \nelements, with an inexhaustible fertility of contrivance, \na constant tendency to diffuse life and well being. \n\nII. One of the great uses to which the vegetable \nwealth of the earth is applied, is the support of man, \nwhom it provides with food and clothing ; and the \nadaptation of tribes of indigenous vegetables to every \nclimate has, we cannot but believe, a reference to the \nintention that the human race should be diffused over \nthe whole globe. But this end is not answered by \nindigenous vegetables alone ; and in the variety of \nvegetables capable of being cultivated with advantage \nin various countries, we conceive that we find evidence \nof an additional adaptation of the scheme of organic life \nto the system of the elements. \n\nThe cultivated vegetables, which form the necessaries \nor luxuries of human life, are each confined within \nlimits, narrow, when compared with the whole surface \nof the earth; yet almost every part of the earth\'s \nsurface is capable of being abundantly covered with \none kind or other of these. When one class fails, \nanother appears in its place. Thus corn, wine, and \noil, have each its boundaries. Wheat extends through \nthe old Continent, from England to Thibet : but it \nstops soon in going northwards, and is not found to \nsucceed in the west of Scotland. Nor does it thrive \nbetter in the torrid zone than in the polar regions : \nwithin the tropics, wheat, barley, and oats are not \n\n\n\n58 \n\n\n\nTEERESTRIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\ncultivated, excepting in situations considerably above \nthe level of the sea : the inhabitants of those countries \nhave other species of grain, or other food. The culti- \nvation of the vine succeeds only in countries where the \nannual temperature is between 50 and 63 degrees. \nIn both hemispheres, the profitable culture of this \nplant ceases within 30 degrees of the equator, unless in \nelevated situations, or in islands, as Teneriffe. The \nlimits of the cultivation of maize and of olives in France \nare parallel to those which bound the vine and corn in \nsuccession to the north. In the north of Italy, west of \nMilan, we first meet with the cultivation of rice ; which \nextends over all the southern part of Asia, wherever \nthe land can be at pleasure covered with water. In \ngreat part of Africa millet is one of the principal kinds \nof grain. \n\nCotton is cultivated to latitude 40 in the new world, \nbut extends to Astrachan in latitude 46 in the old. \nThe sugar cane, the plantain, the mulberry, the betel \nnut, the indigo tree, the tea tree, repay the labours of \nthe cultivator in India and China ; and several of these \nplants have been transferred, with success, to America \nand the West Indies. In equinoctial America a great \nnumber of inhabitants find abundant nourishment on \na narrow space cultivated with plantain, cassava yams, \nand maize. The cultivation of the bread fruit tree \nbegins in the Manillas, and extends through the \nPacific ; the sago palm is grown in the Moluccas, the \ncabbage tree in the Pelew Islands. \n\nIn this manner the various tribes of men are provided \nwith vegetable food. Some, however, live on their cattle, \n\n\n\nGEOGEAPHY OE PLANTS. \n\n\n\n59 \n\n\n\nand thus make the produce of the earth only mediately \nsubservient to their wants. Thus the Tatar tribes \ndepend on their flocks and herds for food : the taste for \nthe flesh of the horse seems to belong to the Mongols, \nFins, and other descendants of the ancient Scythians : \nthe locust eaters are found now, as formerly, in Africa. \n\nMany of these differences dei)end upon custom, soil, \nand other causes with which we do not here meddle ; \nbut many are connected with climate : and the variety \nof the resources which man thus possesses, arises from \nthe variety of constitution belonging to cultivable vege- \ntables, through which one is fitted to one range of \ncHmate, and another to another. We conceive that \nthis variety and succession of fitness for cultivation, \nshows undoubted marks of a most foreseeing and \nbenevolent design in the Creator of man and of the \nworld. \n\nIII. By differences in vegetables of the Idnd we have \nabove described, the sustentation and gratification of \nman\'s physical nature is copiously provided for. But \nthere is another circumstance, a result of the difference \nof the native products of different regions, and there- \nfore a consequence of that difference of climate on \nwhich the difference of native products depends,* which \nappears to be worthy our notice. The difference of the \nproductions of different countries has a bearing not only \nupon the physical, but upon the social and moral \ncondition of man. \n\nThe intercom^se of nations in the way of discovery, \n\n* It will be observed, that it is not here asserted that the difierence \nof native products depends on the difference of climate alone. \n\n\n\n60 \n\n\n\nTEREESTEIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\ncolonisation, commerce ; tlie study of the natural \nhistory, manners, institutions of foreign countries; \nlead to most numerous and important results. Without \ndwelling upon this subject, it will probably be allowed \nthat such intercourse has a great influence upon the \ncomforts, the prosperity, the arts, the literature, the \n]30wer, of the nations which thus communicate. Now \nthe variety of the productions of different lands supplies \nboth the stimulus to this intercourse, and the instru- \nments by which it produces its effects. The desire to \npossess the objects or the knowledge which foreign \ncountries alone can supply, urges the trader, the \ntraveller, the discoverer to compass land and sea; and \nthe progress of the arts and advantages of civilisation \nconsists almost entirely in the cultivation, the use, the \nimprovement of that which has been received from \nother countries. \n\nThis is the case to a much greater extent than might \nat first sight be supposed. Where man is active as \na cultivator, he scarcely ever bestows much of his care \non those vegetables which the land would produce in a \nstate of nature. He does not select some of the plants \nof the soil and improve them by careful culture, but, for \nthe most part, he expels the native possessors of the \nland, and introduces colonies of strangers. \n\nThus, to take the condition of our own part of the \nglobe as an example ; scarcely one of the plants which \noccupy our fields and gardens is indigenous to the \ncountry. The walnut and the peach come to us from \nPersia ; the apricot from Armenia : from Asia Minor, \nand Syria, we have the cherry tree, the fig, the pear, \n\n\n\nGEOGRAPHY OP PLANTS. \n\n\n\n61 \n\n\n\nthe pomegranate, the olive, the plum, and the mulberry. \nThe vine which is now cultivated is not a native of \nEurope ; it is found wild on the shores of the Caspian, \nin Armenia and Caramania. The most useful species \nof j)lants, the cereal vegetables, are certainly strangers \nthough their birth place seems to be an impenetrable \nsecret. Some have fancied that barley is found wild on \nthe banks of the Semara, in Tartary, rye in Crete, \nwheat at Baschkiros, in Asia ; but this is held by the \nbest botanists to be very doubtful. The potato, which \nhas been so widely diffused over the world in modern \ntimes, and has added so much to the resources of life \nin many countries, has been found equally difficult to \ntrace back to its wild condition.^\' \n\nThus widely are spread the traces of the connexion \nof the progress of civilisation with national intercourse. \nIn our own country a higher state of the arts of life is \nmarked by a more ready and extensive adoption of \nforeign productions. Our fields are covered with herbs \nfrom Holland, and roots from Germany ; with Flemish \nfarming and Swedish turnips ; our hills with forests of \nthe firs of Norway. The chestnut and poplar of the \nsouth of Europe adorn our lawns, and below them \nflourish shrubs and flowers from every clime in pro- \nfusion. In the mean time Arabia improves our horses, \nChina our pigs, North America our poultry, Spain our \nsheep, and almost every country sends its dog. The \n\n* Humboldt, Georg. des Plantes, p. 29. It appears, however, to be \nnow ascertained that the edible potato is found wild in the neigh- \nbourhood of Valparaiso. Mr. Sabine in the Horticultural Trans, \nvol. V. p. 249. \n\n\n\n62 \n\n\n\nTEEEESTRIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\nproducts which are ingredients in our luxuries, and \nwhich we cannot naturalise at home, we raise in our \ncolonies ; the cotton, coffee, sugar of the east are thus \ntransplanted to the farthest west ; and man lives in the \nmiddle of a rich and varied abundance, vdiich de^Dends \non the facility vvith which plants and animals and \nmodes of culture can be transferred into lands far \nremoved from those in which nature had placed them. \nAnd this plenty and variety of material comforts is the \ncompanion and the mark of advantages and improve- \nments in social life, of progTess in art and science, of \nactivity of thought, of energy of purpose, and of ascen- \ndancy of character. \n\nThe differences in the productions of different \ncountries wliicli lead to the habitual intercourse of \nnations, and through this to the benefits which we \nhave thus briefly noticed, do not all depend upon \nthe diff^erences of temperature and chmate alone. \nBut these differences are among the causes, and \nare some of the most important causes, or conditions, \nof thfe variety of products; and thus that arrange- \nment of the earth\'s form and motion, from which the \ndifferent climates of different places arise, is con- \nnected with the social and moral welfare a.nd advance- \nment of man. \n\nWe conceive that this connexion, though there must \nbe to our apprehension much that is indefinite and \nuncertain in tracmg its details, is yet a point where we \nmay perceive the profound and comprehensive relations \nestablished by the counsel and foresight of a wise and \ngood Creator of the world and of man, by whom the \n\n\n\nGEOGRAPHY OF PLANTS. \n\n\n\n63 \n\n\n\nprogress and elevation of the human species was neither \nuncontemplated nor uncared for. \n\nly. We have traced, in the variety of organised beings, \nan adaptation to the variety of climates, a provision for \nthe sustentation of man all over the globe, and an \ninstrument for the promotion of civilisation and many \nattendant benefits. We have not considered this \nvariety as itself a purpose which we can perceive or \nunderstand without reference to some ulterior end. \nMany persons, however, and especially those who are \nabeady in the habit of referiing the world ^to its \nCreator, will probably see sometliing admirable in \nitself in this vast variety of created things. There \nis indeed sometliing well fitted to produce and confirm \na reverential wonder, in these apparently inexhaustible \nstores of new forms of being and modes of existence ; \nthe fixity of the laws of ep.ch class, its distinctness from \nall others, its relations to many. Structures and habits \nand characters are exhibited, which are connected and \ndistinguished according to every conceivable degree of \nsubordination and analogy, in their resemblances and \nm their differences. Every new country we explore \npresents us with new combinations, where the possible \ncases seemed to be exliausted ; and v/ith new resem- \nblances and differences constructed as if to elude what \nconjectm\'e might have hit upon, by proceeding from the \nold ones. Most of those who have any large portion of \nnature brought under their notice in this point of view, \nare led to feel that there is, in such a creation, a \nharmony, a beauty, and a dignity, of which the \nimpression is irresistible; which would have been \n\n\n\n64 \n\n\n\nTERRESTRIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\nwanting in any more uniform and limited system \nsuch as we might try to imagine ; and v/liich of itself \ngives to tlie arrangements, by wliich such a variety on \nthe earth\'s surface is produced, the character of well \ndevised means to a worthy end. \n\nChap. VIII. \xe2\x80\x94 The Comtituents of Climate. \n\nWe have spoken of the steady average of the climate \nat each place, of the difference of this average at \ndifferent places, and of the adaptation of organised \nbeings to this character in the laws of the elements \nby which they are effected. But this steadiness in the \ngeneral effect of the elements, is the result of an \nextremely complex and extensive machinery. Climate, \nin its wider sense, is not one single agent, but is the \naggregate result of a great number of different agents, \ngoverned by different laws, producing effects of various \nkinds. The steadiness of this compound agency is not \nthe steadiness of a permanent condition, like that of a \nbody at rest; but it is the steadiness of a state of \nconstant change and movement, succession and alter- \nnation, seeming accident and irregularity. It is a \nperpetual repose, combined with a perpetual motion ; \nand invariable average of most variable quantities. \nNow, the manner in which such a state of things is \nproduced, deserves, we conceive, a closer consideration. \nIt may be useful to show how the particular laws of the \naction of each of the elements of climate are so adjusted \nthat they do not disturb this general constancy. \n\nThe principal constituents of climate are the fol- \n\n\n\nLAWS OF I-IEAT. THE EAETII. 65 \n\nlowing: \xe2\x80\x94 the temperature of tlie earth, of the water, \nof the air: \xe2\x80\x94 the distribution of the aqueous vapour \ncontained in the atmosphere : the winds and rains by \nYvdiich the equilibrium of the atmosphere is restored \nwhen it is in any degree disturbed. The effects of \nlight, of electricity, probably of other causes also, are \nno doubt important in the economy of the vegetable \nworld, but these agencies have not been reduced by \nscientific inquiries to such lavfs as to admit of their \nbeing treated with the same exactness and certainty \nwhich we can obtain in the case of those fii^st mentioned. \n\nWe shall proceed to trace some of the peculiarities \nin the laws of the different physical agents which are in \naction at the earth\'s surface, and the manner in which \nthese peculiarities bear upon the general result. \n\nThe Laws of Heat tvitli respect to the Earth. \n\nOne of the main causes which determine the tempe- \nrature of each climate is the effect of the sun\'s rays on- \nthe solid mass of the earth. The lavf s of this operation \nhave been recently made out with considerable exact- \nness, experimentally by Leslie, theoretically by Fourrier, \nand by other inquirers. The theoretical inquiries have \nrequired the application of very complex and abstruse \nmathematical investigations ; but the general character \nof the operation ma}^ perhaps, be made easily intelligible. \n\nThe earth, like all solid bodies, transmits into its \ninterior the impressions of heat which it receives at \nthe surface ; and throws off the superfluous heat from \nits surface into the surrounding space. These processes \n\n\n\n66 \n\n\n\nTERRESTRIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\nare called conduction and radiation, and have eacii their \nascertained mathematical laws. \n\nBy the laws of conduction, the daity impressions of \nheat which the earth receives, follow each other into \nthe interior of the mass, like the waves which start from \nthe edge of a canal ; * and like them, become more and \nmore famt as they proceed, till they melt into the \ngeneral level of the internal temperature. The heat \nthus transmitted is accumulated in the interior of the \nearth, as in a reservoir, and flows from one part to \nanother of this reservoir. The parts of the earth near \nthe equator are more heated by the sun than other \nparts, and on this account there is a perpetual internal \nconduction of heat from the equatorial to other parts of \nthe sphere. And as all parts of the surface throw off \nheat by radiation, in the polar regions, where the \nsurface receives little in return from the sun, a con- \nstant waste is produced. There is thus from the polar \nparts a perpetual dispersion of heat in the surrounding \nspace, wliich is supplied by a perpetual internal flow \nfrom the equator towards each pole. \n\nHere, then, is a kind of circulation of heat; and \nthe quantity and rapidity of this circulation, deter- \nmine the quantity of heat in the solid part of the \nearth, and in each portion of it ; and through this, \n\n* The resemblance consists in this ; tliat we have a strip of greater \ntemperature accompanied by a strip of smaller temperature, these strips \narising from the diurnal and nocturnal impressions respectively, and \nbeing in motion ; as in the waves of a canal, we have a moving strip of \ngreater elevation accompanied by a strip of smaller elevation. We do \nnot here refer to any hypothetical undulations in the fluid matter of \nheat. \n\n\n\nLAWS OF HEAT. THE EAETH. \n\n\n\n67 \n\n\n\nthe mean temperature belonging to each point on \nits surface. \n\nIf tlie earth conducted heat more rapidly than it \ndoes, the inequalities of temperature would be more \nquickly balanced, and the temperatin-e of the ground in \ndifferent parts of the globe of the earth (below the \nreach of annual and diurnal variations), w^ould differ less \nthan it does. If the surface radiated more rapidly than \nit does, the flow of heat from the polar regions would \nincrease, and the temperature of the interior of the \nglobe would find a lower level; the dift\'erences of \ntemperatm^e in different latitudes would increase, but \nthe mean temperature of the globe w^ould diminish. \n\nThere is nothmg which, so far as w^e can perceive, \ndetermines necessarily, either the conducting or the \nradiating power of the earth to its present value. The \nmeasures of such powers, in different substances, differ \nvery widely. If the earth were a globe of pure iron, it \nwould conduct heat, probably, twenty times as well as \nit does ; if its surface were polished iron, it would onl}^ \nradiate one-sixth as much as it does. Changes in the \namount of the conduction and radiation far less than \nthese, w^ould, probably, subvert the whole thermal \nconstitution of the earth, and make it uninhabitable \nby any of its present vegetable or animal tenants. \n\nOne of the results of the laws of heat, as they exist \nin the globe, is, that, by their action, the thermal state \ntends to a limited condition, which, once reached, re- \nmains constant and steady, as it now is. The oscil- \nlations or excursions from the mean condition, produced \nby any temporary cause, are rapidly suppressed ; the \n\nF 2 \n\n\n\n68 \n\n\n\nTERRESTEIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\ndeviations of seasons from their usual standard pro- \nduce only a small and transient effect. The impression \nof an extremely liot day upon the ground melts almost \nimmediately into the average internal heat. The effect \nof a hot summer, in like manner, is soon lost in its \nprogress through the globe. If this were otherwise, if \nthe inequahties and oscillations of heat went on, through \nthe interior of the earth, retaining the same value, or \nbecoming larger and larger, we might have the extreme \nheats or colds of one x)lace making their appearance at \nanother place after a long interval ; like a conflagration \nwhich creeps along a street and bursts out at a point \nremote from its origin. \n\nIt appears, therefore, that both the present differences \nof cHmate, and the steadiness of the average at each \nplace, depend upon the form of the present laws of \nheat, and on the arbitrary magnitudes which determine \nthe rate of conduction and radiation. The laws are \nsuch as to secure us from increasing and destructive \ninequalities of heat ; the arbitrary magnitudes are data \nto which the organic world is adjusted. \n\nChap. IX. \xe2\x80\x94 The Lmvs of Heat with respect to Water. \n\nThe manner in which heat is transmitted through \nfluids is altogether different from the mode in which it \npasses through solids ; and hence the waters of the \nearth\'s surface produce peculiar effects upon its condi- \ntion as to temperature. Moreover, water is susceptible \nof evaporation in a degree depending upon the increase \nof heat; and in consequence of this property it has \n\n\n\nLAWS OF HEAT. WATER. \n\n\n\n69 \n\n\n\nmost extensive and important functions to discliarge in \ntlie economy of nature. We will consider some of tlie \noffices of this fluid. \n\nI. Heat is communicated through water, not by \nbeing conducted from one j^art of the fluid to another, \nas in solid bodies, but (at least principally) by being \ncarried with the parts of the fluid by means of an \nintestine motion. Water expands and becomes lighter \nby heat, and, therefore, if the upper parts be cooled \nbelow the subjacent temperature, this uj)per portion \nwill become heavier than that below, bulk for bulk, and \nwill descend through it, while the lower portion rises \nto take the u]3per j^lace. In this manner the colder \nparts descend, and the warmer parts ascend by con- \ntrar}^ currents, and, by their interchange and mixture, \nreduce the whole to a temperature at least as low as \nthat of the surface. And this equalisation of tempera- \nture by means of such currents, is an operation of a \nmuch more rapid nature than the slow motion of \nconduction by which heat creeps through a solid body. \nHence, alternations of heat and cold, as day and night, \nsummer and winter, produce in water inequalities of \ntemperature much smaller than those which occur in a \nsolid body. The heat communicated is less, for trans- \nparent fluids imbibe heat ver}^ slowly ; and the cold \nimpressed on the surface is soon diffused through the \nmass by internal circulation. \n\nHence it follows that the ocean, which covers so large \na portion of the earth, and affects the temperature of \nthe whole surface by its influence, produces the effect \nof making the alternations of heat and cold much less \n\n\n\n70 \n\n\n\nTERRESTRIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\nviolent than they would be if this covering were \nremoved. The different temperatures of its upper \nand lower parts produce a current which draws the \nsea, and by means of the sea, the air, towards the mean \ntemperature. And this kind of circulation is produced, \nnot only between the upper and lower parts, but also \nbetween distant tracts of the ocean. The great Gulf \nStream which rushes out of the Gulf of Mexico, and \nruns across the Atlantic to the western shores of \nEurope, carries with it a portion of the tropical heat \ninto the northern regions : and the returning current \nwhich descends along the coast of Africa, tends to cool \nthe parts nearer the equator. Great as the difference of \ntemperature is in different climates, it would be still \ngreater if there were not this equalising and moderating \npower exerted constantly over the whole surface. \nWithout this influence, it is probable that the two \npolar portions of the earth, which are locked in \nperpetual ice and snow, and almost destitute of life, \nwould be much increased. \n\nWe find an illustration of this effect of the ocean on \ntemperature, in the peculiarities of the climates of \nmaritime tracts and islands. The climate of such \nportions of the earth, corrected in some measure by \nthe temperature of the neighbouring sea, is more \nequable than that of places in the same latitudes \ndifferently situated. London is cooler in summer \nand warmer in winter than Paris. \n\nII. Water expands by heat and contracts by cold, as \nhas been already said ; and in consequence of this \nproperty, the coldest portions of the fluid generally \n\n\n\nLAWS OP HEAT. WATER. 71 \n\noccupy tlie lower parts. The continued progress of \ncold produces congelation. If, therefore, the law just \nmentioned had been strictly true, the lower parts of \nwater would have been first frozen ; and being once \nfrozen, hardly any heat applied at the surface could \nhave melted them, for the warm fluid- could not have \ndescended through the colder parts. This is so far the \ncase, that in a vessel containing ice at the bottom and \nwater at the top, Rumford made the upper fluid boil \nwithout thawing the congealed cake below. \n\nNow, a law of water with respect to heat operating \nin this manner, would have been very inconvenient if \nit had prevailed in our lakes and seas. They would \nall have had a bed of ice, increasing with every occasion, \ntill the whole was frozen. We could have no bodies \nof water, except such pools on the surfaces of these icy \nreservoirs as the summer sun could thaw, to be again \nfrozen to the bottom with the first frosty night. The \nlaw of the regular contraction of water by cold till it \nbecame ice, would, therefore, be destructive of all the \nutility of our seas and lakes. How is this inconvenience \nobviated ? \n\nIt is obviated by a modification of the law which \ntakes place when the temperature approaches this \nlimit. Water contracts by the increase of cold, till \nwe come near the freezing temperature ; but then, by \na further increase of cold, it contracts no more, but \nexpands till the point at which it becomes ice. It \ncontracts in cooling down to 40 degrees of Fahrenheit\'s \nthermometer ; in cooling further it expands, and when \ncooled to 32 degrees, it freezes. Hence the greatest \n\n\n\n72 \n\n\n\nTEMIESTUIAL ADAPTATiO?s\'S. \n\n\n\ndensity of the fluid is at 40 degrees, and water of this \ntemperature, or near it, will lie at the bottom with \ncooler water or with ice floating above it. However \nmuch the surface be cooled, water colder than 40 cannot \ndescend to displace water warmer than itself. Hence \nwe can never have ice formed at the bottom of deep \nwater. In approaching the freezing point, the coldest \nwater will rise to the surface, and the congelation will \ntake place there ; and the ice so formed will remain at \nthe surface, exposed to the warmth of the sun-beams \nand the air, and will not survive any long continuance \nof such action. \n\nAnother peculiarity in the laws which regulate the \naction of cold on water is, that in the very act of \nfreezing a further sudden and considerable expansion \ntakes place. Many persons will have known instances \nof vessels burst by the freezing of water in them. The \nconsequence of this expansion is, that the specific \ngravity of ice is less than that of water of any tempera- \nture ; and it therefore always floats in the unfrozen \nfluid. If this expansion of crystallisation did not \nexist, ice would float in water which was below 40 \ndegrees, but would sink when the fluid was above that \ntemperature : as the case is, it floats under all circum- \nstances. The icy remnants of the effects of winter, \nwhich the river carries down its stream, are visible on \nits surface till they melt away ; and the icebergs which \nare detached from the shores of the polar seas, drift \nalong, exposed to the sun and air, as well as to the \nwater in which they are immersed. \n\nThese laws of the effect of temperature on water are \n\n\n\nLAWS OP KEAT. WATEll. \n\n\n\n73 \n\n\n\ntruly remarkable in tlieir adaptation to tlie beneficial \ncourse of things at the earth\'s surface. Water contracts \nby cold ; it thus equalises the temperature of various \ntimes and j)laces ; but if its contraction were continued \nall the way to the freezing point, it would bind a great \npart of the earth in fetters of ice. The contraction, \nthen, is here replaced by expansion, in a manner which \nbut slightly modifies the former effects, while it com- \npletely obviates the bad consequences. The further \nexpansion which takes place at the point of freezing, \nstill further facilitates the rapid removal of the icy \nchains, in which parts of the earth\'s surface are at \ncertain seasons bound. \n\nWe do not know how^ far these laws of expansion \nare connected with, and depend on, more remote and \ngeneral properties of this fluid, or of all fluids. But \nwe have no reason to believe that, by whatever means \nthey operate, they are not laws selected from among \nother laws wdiich might exist, as in fact for other fluids \nother laws do exist. And we have all the evidence \nwhich the most remarkable furtherance of important \npurposes can give us, that they are selected, and selected \nwith a beneficial design. \n\nIII. As water becomes ice by cold, it becomes steam \nby heat. In common language, steam is the name \ngiven to the vapour of hot water ; but in fact a vapour \nor steam rises from water at all temperatures, however \nlow, and even from ice. The expansive force of this \nvapour increases rapidly as the heat increases ; so that \nwhen we reach the heat of boiling water, it operates in \na far more striking manner than when it is colder ; but \n\n\n\n74 \n\n\n\nTEREESTEIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\nin all cases the surface of water is covered with an \natmosphere of aqueous vapour, the pressure or tension \nof which is limited by the temperature of the water. \nTo each degree of pressure in steam there is a con- \nstituent temperature corresponding. If the surface of \nwater is not pressed by vapour with the force thus \ncorresponding to its temperature, an immediate evapo- \nration will supply the deficiency. We can compare \nthe tension of such vapour with that of our common \natmosphere; the pressure of the latter is measured \nby the barometrical column, about thirty inches of \nmercury ; that of watery vapour is equal to one inch of \nmercury at the constituent temperature of 80 degrees, \nand to one-fifth of an inch at the temperature of 32 \ndegrees. \n\nHence, if that part of the atmosphere which consists \nof common air were annihilated, there would still \nremain an atmosphere of aqueous vapour, arising from \nthe waters and moist ]3arts of the earth ; and in the \nexisting state of things this vapour rises in the atmo- \nsphere of dry air. Its distribution and effects are \nmaterially influenced by the vehicle in which it is thus \ncarried, as we shaU hereafter notice ; but at present \nwe have to observe the exceeding utility of water in this \nshape. We remark how suitable and indispensable to \nthe well-being of the creation it is, that the fluid should \npossess the property of assuming such a form under \nsuch circumstances. \n\nThe moisture which floats in the atmosphere is of \nmost essential use to vegetable life.* " The leaves \n\n\n\n* Loudon, 1219. \n\n\n\nLAWS OF HEAT. WATEE. \n\n\n\n7o \n\n\n\nof living plants appear to act upon this vapour in its \nelastic form, and to absorb it. Some vegetables increase \nin weight from this cause when suspended in the \natmosphere and unconnected with the soil, as the \nhouse-leek and the aloe. In very intense heats, and \nwhen the soil is dry, the life of plants seems to be \npreserved by the absorbent power of their leaves." It \nfollows from what has akeady been said, that, with \nan increasing heat of the atmosphere, an increasing \nquantity of vapoiu^ mil rise into it, if supplied from \nany quarter. Hence it appears that aqueous vapour \nis most abundant in the atmosphere when it is most \nneeded for the purposes of life ; and that when other \nsources of moisture are cut off, this is most copious. \n\nIV. Clouds are produced by aqueous vapour when it \nreturns to the state of water. This process is con- \ndensation, the reverse of evaporation. When vapour \nexists in the atmosphere, if in any manner the tempe- \nrature becomes lower than the constituent temperature, \nrequisite for the maintenance of the vapoury state, \nsome of the steam will be condensed and will become \nwater. It is in this manner that the curl of steam \nfrom the spout of a boiling tea-kettle becomes visible, \nbeing cooled down as it rushes to the air. The steam \ncondenses into a fine watery powder, which is carried \nabout by the little aerial currents. Clouds are of the \nsame nature with such curls, the condensation being \ngenerally produced when air, charged with aqueous \nvapour, is mixed with a colder current, or has its \ntemperature diminished in any other manner. \n\nClouds, while they retain that shape, are of the \n\n\n\n76 \n\n\n\nTEERESTRIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\nmost essential use to vegetable and animal life. The}\' \nmoderate the fervour of the sun, in a manner agreeable, \nto a greater or less degree, in all climates, and grateful \nno less to vegetables than to animals. Duhamel says \nthat plants grow more during a week of cloudy weather \nthan a month of dry and hot. It has been observed \nthat vegetables are far more refreshed by being watered \nin cloud}^ than in clear weather. In the latter case, \nprobably the supply of fluid is too rapidly carried off by \nevaporation. Clouds also moderate the alternations of \ntemperature, by checking the radiation from the earth. \nThe coldest nights are those which occur under a \ncloudless winter sky. \n\nThe uses of clouds, therefore, in this stage of their \nhistory, are by no means inconsiderable, and seem to \nindicate to us that the laws of their formation were \nconstructed with a view to the i)^^i\'poses of organised \nlife. \n\nV. Clouds produce rain. In the formation of a cloud \nthe precipitation of moisture probably forms a fine \nwatery poivder, which remains suspended in the air in \nconsequence of the mimiteness of its particles : but if \nfrom any cause the precipitation is collected in larger \nportions, and becomes droj)s, these descend by their \nweight and produce a shower. \n\nThus rain is another of the consequences of the \nproperties of water with respect to heat ; its uses are \nthe results of the laws of evaporation and condensation. \nThese uses, with reference to plants, are too obvious \nand too numerous to be described. It is evident that \non its quantity and distribution dei^end in a great \n\n\n\nLAWS OF HEAT. WATEE. \n\n\n\n77 \n\n\n\nmeasure tlie prosperity of tlie vegetable IdngcTom : and \ndifferent climates are fitted for different productions, \nno less by the relations of dry weather and showers, \nthan by those of hot and cold. \n\nVI. Returning back still further in the changes which \ncold can produce on water, we come to snoiv and ice : \nsnow being apparently frozen cloud or vapour, aggre- \ngated by a confused action of crystalline laws ; and ice \nbeing water in its fluid state, solidified by the same \ncrystalline forces. The impression of these agents on \nthe animal feelings is generally unpleasant, and we are \nin the habit of considering them as symptoms of the \npower of winter to interrupt that state of the elements \nin which they are subservient to life. Yet, even in this \nform, they are not without their uses.* " Snow and \nice are bad conductors of cold ; and when the ground \nis covered with snow, or the surface of the soil or of \nwater is frozen, the roots or bulbs of plants beneath \nare protected by the congealed water from the influence \nof the atmosphere, the temperature of which, in northern \nAvinters, is usually very much below the freezing point ; \nand this water becomes the first nourishment of the \nplant in early spring. The expansion of water duruig \nits congelation, at which time its volume increases \none-tweKth, and its contraction in bulk during a thaw, \ntend to pulverise the soil, to separate its parts from \neach other, and to make it more permeable to the \ninfluence of the air." In consequence of the same \nslowness in the conduction of heat wliich snow thus \npossesses, the arctic traveller finds his bed of snow of \n\n\n\nLoudon, 1214. \n\n\n\n78 \n\n\n\nTERRESTRIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\nno intolerable coldness; the Esquimaux is sheltered \nfrom the inclemency of the season in his snow hut, and \ntravels rapidly and agreeably over the frozen surface \nof the sea. The uses of those arrangements, which at \nfirst appear productive only of pain and inconvenience, \nare well suited to give confidence and hope to our \nresearches for such usefulness in every part of the \ncreation. They have thus a peculiar value in adding \nconnexion and universahty to our perception of bene- \nficial design. \n\nYII. There is a peculiar circumstance still to be \nnoticed in the changes from ice to water and from \nwater to steam. These changes take place at a parti- \ncular and invariable degree of heat ; yet they do not \ntake place suddenly when we increase the heat to this \ndegree. This is a very curious arrangement. The \ntemperature makes a stand, as it were, at the point \nwhere thaw and where boiling take place. It is \nnecessary to apply a considerable quantity of heat to \nproduce these effects; all which heat disappears, or \nbecomes latent, as it is called. We cannot raise the \ntemperature of a thawing mass of ice till we have \nthawed the whole. We cannot raise the temperature \nof boiling water, or of steam rising from it, till we have \nconverted all the water into steam. Any heat that we \napi)ly while these changes are going on is absorbed in \nproducing the changes. \n\nThe consequences of this property of latent heat are \nvery important. It is on this account that the changes \nnow spoken of necessarily occupy a considerable time. \nEach part in succession must have a proper degree of \n\n\n\nLAWS OF HEAT. WATER. \n\n\n\n79 \n\n\n\nlieat applied to it. If it were otherwise, thaw and \nevaporation must be instantaneous ; at the first touch \nof warmth, all the snow wliich lies on the roofs of our \nhouses would descend like a water-spout into the \nstreets : all that which rests on the ground would rush \nlike an inundation into the water courses. The hut of \nthe Esquimaux would vanish like a house in a ]3anto- \nmime : the icy floor of the river would be gone without \ngiving any warnmg to the skater or the traveller : and \nwhen, in heating our water, we reached the boiling \npoint, the whole fluid would " flash into steam," (to use \nthe expression of engineers,) and dissipate itself in \nthe atmosphere, or settle in dew on the neighbouring \nobjects. \n\nIt is obviously necessary for the purposes of human \nlife, that these changes should be of a more gradual \nand manageable kind than such as we have now \ndescribed. Yet tliis gradual progress of freezing and \nthawing, of evaporation and condensation, is produced, \nso far as we can discover, by a particular contrivance. \nLike the freezing of water from the top, or the floating \nof ice, the moderation of the rate of these changes \nseems to be the result of a violation of a law : that is, \nthe simple rule regarding the effects of change of tem- \nperature, wliich at first sight appears to be the law, \nand which, from its simplicity, would seem to us the \nmost obvious law for these as well as other cases, is \nmodified at certain critical points, so as to produce \nthese advantageous effects : \xe2\x80\x94 why may we not say in \norder to produce such effects ? \n\nVIII. Another office of water, which it discharges by \n\n\n\n80 \n\n\n\nTEREESTEIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\nmeans of its relations to lieat, is that of supplying onr \nsprings. There can be no doubt that the old hypotheses, \nwhich represent springs as drawing their supplies from \nlarge subterranean reservoirs of water, or from the sea \nby a process of subterraneous filtration, are erroneous \nand untenable. The quantity of evaporation from water \nand from wet ground is found to be amply sufficient \nto supply the requisite drain. Mr. Dalton calculated* \nthat the quantity of rain which falls in Englamd \nis thirt3^-six inches a year. Of this he reckoned \nthat thirteen inches flow off to the sea by the rivers, \nand that the remaining twenty-three inches are raised \nagain from the ground by evaporation. The thirteen \ninches of water are of course supplied by evaporation \nfrom the sea, and are carried back to the land through \nthe atmosphere. Yapour is perpetually rising from the \nocean, and is condensed in the hills and high lands, \nand through their pores and crevices descends, till it is \ndeflected, collected, and conducted out to the day, by \nsome stratum or channel which is watertight. The \ncondensation which takes place in the higher parts of \na country, may easily be recognised in the mists and \nrains which are the frequent occupants of such regions. \nThe coldness of the atmosphere and other causes pre- \ncipitate the moisture in clouds and showers, and in the \nformer as well as in the latter shape, it is condensed \nand absorbed by the cool ground. Thus a perpetual \nand compound cii\'culation of the waters is kept up ; a \nnarrower circle between the evaporation and precipita- \ntion of the land itself, the rivers and streams only \n\n* Manchester Memoirs, v. 357 \n\n\n\nLAWS OF HEAT. WATER. \n\n\n\n81 \n\n\n\noccasionally and partially forming a portion of the \ncircuit ; and a wider interchange between the sea and \nthe lands which feed the springs, the water ascending \nI)erpetually by a thousand currents through the air, and \ndescending by the gradually converging branches of the \nrivers, till it is again returned into the great reservoir \nof the ocean. \n\nIn every country, these two portions of the aqueous \ncirculation have their regular, and nearly constant, \nproportion. In this kmgdom the relative quantities \nare, as we have said, 23 and 13. A due distribution of \nthese circulating fluids in each country appears to be \nnecessary to its organic health ; to the habits of vege- \ntables, and of man. We have every reason to believe \nthat it is kept up from year to year as steadily as the \ncirculation of the blood in the veins and arteries of \nman. It is maintained by machinery very different, \nindeed, from that of the human system, but apparently \nas well, and therefore we may say as clearly, as that, \nadapted to its purposes. \n\nBy this machinery we have a connection established \nbetween the atmospheric changes of remote countries. \nEains in England are often introduced by a south-east \nwind. " Vapour brought to us by such a wind, must \nhave been generated in countries to the south and east \nof our island. It is therefore, probably, in the extensive \nvalleys watered by the Meuse, the Moselle, and the \nEhine, if not from the more distant Elbe, with the \nOder and the Weser, that the water rises, in the midst \nof sunshine, which is soon afterwards to form our \nclouds, and pour down our thunder- showers." " Drought \n\na \n\n\n\n82 \n\n\n\nTEERESTEIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\nand sunshine in one part of Europe rnay be as neces- \nsary to the production of a wet season in another, as it \nis on the great scale of the continents of Africa and \nSouth America ; where the plains, during one half the \nyear, are burnt up, to feed the springs of the moun- \ntains ; which in their turn contribute to inundate the \nfertile valleys, and ^orepare them for a luxuriant vege- \ntation."* The properties of water which regard heat \nmake one vast watering -engine of the atmosphere. \n\nChap. X.\xe2\x80\x94 T/ie Laws of Heat loith respect to Air. \n\nWe have seen in the preceding chapter, how many \nand how important are the offices discharged by the \naqueous part of the atmosphere. The aqueous part is, \nhowever, a very small part only : it may vary, perhaps, \nfrom less than 1-lOOdth to nearly as much as l-20th \nin weight of the whole aerial ocean. We have to offer \nsome considerations with regard to the remainder of \nthe mass. \n\nI. In the first place we may observe that the aerial \natmosphere is necessary as a vehicle for the aqueous \nvapour. Salutary as is the operation of this last \nelement to the whole organised creation, it is a sub- \nstance which would not have answered its purposes if \nit had been administered pure. It requires to be \ndiluted and associated with dry air, to make it service- \nable. A little consideration will show this. \n\nWe can suppose the earth with no atmosphere except \nthe vapour which arises from its watery parts : and if \n\n\n\n* Howard on the Climate of London, vol. ii., pp. 216, 217. \n\n\n\nLAWS OP HEAT. AIR. \n\n\n\n83 \n\n\n\nwe suppose also the equatorial parts of the globe to be \nhot, and the polar parts cold, we may easily see what \nwould be the consequence. The waters at the equator, \nand near the equator, would produce steam of greater \nelasticity, rarity, and temperature, than that which \noccupies the regions further poleivards; and such steam, \nas it came in contact with the colder vapour of a higher \nlatitude, would be precipitated into the form of water. \nHence there would be a perpetual current of steam \nfrom the equatorial parts towards each pole, which \nwould be condensed, would fall to the surface, and flow \nback ta the equator in the form of fluid. We should \nhave a circulation which might be regarded as a species \nof regulated distillation.* On a globe so constituted, \nthe sky of the equatorial zone would be perpetually \ncloudless ; but in all other latitudes we should have an \nuninterrupted shroud of clouds, fogs, rains,. and, near \nthe poles, a continual fall of snow. This wmild be \nbalanced by a constant flow of the currents of the \nocean from each pole towards the equator. We should \nhave an excessive circulation of moisture, but no sun- \nshine, and probably only mmute changes in the intensity \nand appearances of one eternal drizzle or shower. \n\nIt is plain that this state of things would but ill \nanswer the ends of vegetable and animal life : so that \neven if the lungs of animals and the leaves of plants \nwere so constructed as to breathe steam instead of air, \nan atmosphere of unmixed steam would deprive those \ncreatures of most of the other external conditions of \ntheir well-being. \n\n* Daniell. Meteor. Ess., p. 56. \n\nG 2 \n\n\n\n84 \n\n\n\nTERUESTEIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\nThe real state of things which we enjoy, the steam \nbeing mixed in our breath and in our sky in a moderate \nquantity, gives rise to results very different from those \nwhich have been described. The machinery by which \nthese results are produced is not a little curious. It is, \nin fact, the machinery of the iceatlier, and therefore the \nreader will not be surprised to find it both complex and \napparently uncertain in its working. At the same time \nsome of the general principles which govern it seem \nnow to be pretty well made out, and they offer no small \nevidence of beneficent arrangement. \n\nBesides our atmosphere of aqueous vapour, we have \nanother and far larger atmosphere of common air; a \n]dermanently elastic fluid, that is, one which is not con- \ndensed into a liquid form by pressure or cold, such as \nit is exposed to in the order of natural events. The \npressure of the dry air is about 29-| inches of mercury; \nthat of the watery vapour, perhaps, half an inch. Now \nif we had the earth quite dry, and covered with an \natmosphere of dry air, we can trace in a great measure \nwhat would be the results, supposing still the equatorial \nzone to be hot, and the temperature of the surface to \ndecrease perpetually as we advance into higher lati- \ntudes. The air at the equator would be rarefied by the \nheat, and would be perpetually displaced below by the \ndenser portions which belong to cooler latitudes. We \nshould have a current of air from the equator to the \npoles in the higher regions of the atmosphere, and at \nthe surface a returning current setting towards the \nequator to fill up the void so created. Such aerial \ncurrents, combined with the rotatory motion of the \n\n\n\nLAWS OF HEAT. AIR. \n\n\n\n85 \n\n\n\neartli, would produce oblique winds ; and we have, in \nfact, instances of winds so loroduced, in the trade winds, \nwhich between the tropics blow constantly from the \nquarters between east and north, and are, we know, \nbalanced by opposite currents m higher regions. The \neffect of a heated surface of land would be the same as \nthat of the heated zone of the equator, and would attract \nto it a sea breeze during the day time, a phenomenon, \nas we pJso know, of perpetual occurrence. \n\nNow a mass of dry au- of such a character as this, is \nby far the dominant part of our atmosphere; and hence \ncarries with it in its motions the tliinner and smaller \neddies of aqueous vapour. The latter fluid m.\xc2\xa3Lj be \nconsidered as permeatmg and moving in the interstices \nof the former, as a spring of water flows through a sand \nrock.* The lower current of air is, as has been said, \ndirected towards the equator, and hence it resists the \nmotion of the steam, the tendency of which is in the \nopposite direction ; and prevents or much retards that \ncontinual flow of hot vapour into colder regions, by \nwhich a constant precipitation would take place in the \nlatter situations. \n\nIf, in this state of things, the flow of the current of \nair, which blows from any colder place into a warmer \nregion, be retarded or stopped, the aqueous vapom\'S \nwill now be able to make their way to the colder point, \nwhere they will be precipitated in clouds or sliowxrs. \n\nThus, in the lower part of the atmosphere, there are \ntendencies to a current of air in one dhection, and a \ncuiTent of vapour in the opposite ; and these tendencies \n\n\n\n* Daniell. p. 129. \n\n\n\n86 \n\n\n\nTERRESTRIAL ADAPTATIONS, \n\n\n\nexist in the average weather of places situated at a \nmoderate distance from the equator. The air tends \nfrom the colder to the warmer parts, the vapour from \nthe warmer to the colder. \n\nThe various distribution of land and sea, and many \nother causes, make these currents far from simple. \nBut in general the air current predominates, and keeps \nthe skies clear and the moisture dissolved. Occasional \nand irregular occurrences disturb this x)redominance ; \nthe moisture is then precipitated, the skies are clouded, \nand the clouds may descend in copious rains. \n\nThese alternations of fair weather and showers \nappear to be much more favourable to vegetable and \nanimal life than any uniform course of weather could \nhave been. To produce this variety, we have two \nantagonist forces, by the struggle of which such changes \noccur. Steam and air, two transparent and elastic \nfluids, expansible by heat, are in many respects and \nproperties very like each other. Yet the same heat, \nsimilarly applied to the globe, produces at the surface \ncurrents of these fluids, tending in opposite directions. \nAnd these currents mix and balance, conspire and \ninterfere, so that our trees and fields have alternately \nwater and sunshine ; our fruits and grain are succes- \nsively developed and matm^ed. Why should such laws \nof heat and elastic fluids so obtain, and be so com- \nbined ? Is it not in order that they may be fit for \nsuch of&ces ? There is here an arrangement, which \nno chance could have produced. The details of this \napparatus may be beyond our power of tracing; its \nsprings may be out of our sight. Such circumstances \n\n\n\nLAWS OF HEAT. AIR. \n\n\n\n87 \n\n\n\ndo not make it the less a curious and beautiful con- \ntrivance : they need not prevent our recognising the \nskill and benevolence which we can discover. \n\nII. But we have not yet done with the machinery of \nthe weather. In ascending from the earth\'s surface \nthrough the atmosphere, we find a remarkable difference \nin the heat and in the pressure of the air. It becomes \nmuch colder, and much lighter; men\'s feelings tell \nthem this ; and the thermometer and barometer con- \nfirm these indications. And here again we find some- \ntliing to remark. \n\nIn both the simple atmospheres of which we have \nspoken, the one of aii\' and the one of steam, the pro- \nperty which we have mentioned must exist. In each \nof them, both the temperature and the tension would \ndiminish in ascending. But they would diminish at \nvery different rates. The temperature, for instance, \nwould decrease much more rapidly for the same height \nin dry air than in steam. If we begin with a tempera- \nture of 80 degrees at the surface, on ascending 5,000 \nfeet the steam is still 76^ degrees, the air is only 64^ \ndegTees; at 10,000 feet, the steam is 73 degrees, the \nair 48 J degrees; at 15,000 feet, steam is at 70 degrees; \nair has faUen below the freezing point to 31 J degrees. \nHence these two atmospheres cannot exist together \nwithout modifying one another : one must heat or cool \nthe other, so that the coincident parts may be of the \nsame temperature. Tliis accordingly does take place, \nand this effect influences very greatly the constitution \nof the atmosphere. For the most part, the steam is \ncompelled to accommodate itself to the temperature of \n\n\n\n88 \n\n\n\nTERRESTRIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\nthe air, the latter being of much the greater bulk. But \nif the upper parts of the aqueous vapour be cooled \ndown to the temperature of the air, they will not by \nany means exert on the lower parts of the same vapour \nso great a pressure as the gaseous form of these could \nbear. Hence, there will be a deficiency of moisture in \nthe lower part of the atmosphere, and if water exist \nthere it will rise by evaporation, the surface feeling an \ninsufficient tension; and there will thus be a fresh \nsupply of vapour upwards. As, however, the upper \nregions alread}^ contain as much as their temperature \nwill support in the state of g as, a precipitation will now \ntake place, and the fluid thus formed will descend till \nit arrives in a lower region, where the tension and \ntemperature are again adapted to its evaporation. \n\nThus, we can have no equilibrium in such an atmo- \nsphere, but a perpetual circulation of vapour between \nits upper and lower parts. The currents of air which \nmove about in different dii-ections, at different altitudes, \nwill be differently charged with moisture, and as they \ntouch and mingle, lines of cloud are formed, which \ngrow and join, and are spread out in floors, or rolled \ntogether in piles. These, again, by an additional acces- \nsion of humidity, are formed into drops, and descend in \nshowers into the lower regions, and if not evaporated \nin their fall, reach the surface of the earth. \n\nThe varying occurrences thus produced, tend to \nmultiply and extend their own variety. The ascend- \ning streams of vapour carry with them that latent heat \nbelonging to their gaseous state, which, when they are \ncondensed, they give out as sensible heat. They thus \n\n\n\nLAWS OF HEAT. AIU. \n\n\n\n89 \n\n\n\nraise the temperature of the upper regions of air, and \noccasion changes in the pressure and motion of its \ncurrents. The clouds, again, by shading the surface of \nthe earth from the sun, dimmish the evaporation by \nwhich their own substance is supplied, and the heating \neffects by which currents are caused. Even the mere \nmechanical effects of the currents of fluid on the dis- \ntribution of its own pressure, and the dynamical con- \nditions of its motion, are in a high degree abstruse in \ntheir principles and complex in their results. It need \nnot be wondered, therefore, if the study of this subject \nis very difficult and entangled, and our knowledge, after \nall, very imperfect. \n\nIn the midst of all this apparent confusion, however, \nwe can see much that we can understand. And, among \nother things, we may notice some of the consequences \nof the difference of the laws of temperature followed by \nsteam and by air in going upwards. One important \nresult is that the atmosphere is much drier, near the \nsurface, than it would have been if the laws of density \nand temperature had been the same for both gases. \nIf this had been so, the air would always have been \nsaturated with vapour. It would have contained as \nmuch as the existing temperature could support, and \nthe slightest cooHng of any object would have covered \nit with a Avatery film like dew. As it is, the air contains \nmuch less than its full quantity of vapour : we may \noften cool an object 10, 20, or 30 degrees without \nobtaining a deposition of water upon it, or reaching the \ndew-point, as it is called. To have had such a dripping \nstate of the atmosphere as the former arrangement \n\n\n\n90 \n\n\n\nTEREBSTRIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\nwould have produced, would have been inconvenient, \nand, so far as we can judge, unsuited to vegetables as \nwell as animals. No evaporation from the surface of \neither could have taken place under such conditions. \n\nThe sizes and forms of clouds appear to depend on \nthe same circumstance, of the air not being saturated \nwith moisture. And it is seemingly much better that \nclouds should be comparatively small and well defined, \nas they are, than that they should fill vast depths of \nthe atmosphere with a thm mist, which would have \nbeen the consequence of the imaginary condition of \nthings just mentioned. \n\nHere then we have another remarkable exliibition of \ntwo laws, in two nearly similar gaseous fluids, producing \neffects alike in kind, but different in degree, and by the \nflay of their difference giving rise to a new set of \nresults, peculiar in their nature and beneficial in their \ntendency. The form of the laws of air and of steam \nwith regard to heat might, so far as we can see, have \nbeen more similar, or more dissimilar, than it now is : \nthe rate of each law might have had a different amount \nfrom its present one, so as quite to alter the relation \nof the two. By the laws having such forms and \nsuch rates as they have, effects are produced, \nsome of which we can distinctly perceive to be bene- \nficial. Perhaps most persons will feel a strong per- \nsuasion, that if we miderstood the operation of these \nlaws more distinctly, we should see still more clearly \nthe beneficial tendency of these effects, and should \nprobably discover others, at present concealed in the \napparent perplexity of the subject. \n\n\n\nLAWS OF HEAT. AIR. \n\n\n\n91 \n\n\n\nIII. From what has been said, we may see, in a \ngeneral way, both the causes and the effects of tvincls. \nThey arise from any disturbance by temperature, \nmotion, j^ressure, &c., of the equilibrium of the atmo- \nsphere, and are the efforts of nature to restore the \nbalance. Their office in the economy of nature is to \ncarry heat and moisture from one tract to another, and \nthey are the great agents in the distribution of tempe- \nrature and the changes of weather. Other purposes \nmight easily be ascribed to them in the business of the \nvegetable and animal kingdoms, and in the arts of \nhuman life, of which we shall not here treat. That \ncharacter in which we now consider them, that of the \nmachinery of atmospheric changes, and thus, imme- \ndiately or remotely, the instruments of atmospheric \ninfluences, cannot well be refused them by any \nperson. \n\nIV. There is still one reflection which ought not to \nbe omitted. All the changes of the weather, even the \nmost violent tempests and torrents of rain, may be \nconsidered as oscillations about the mean or average \ncondition belonging to each place. All these oscilla- \ntions are limited and transient ; the storm spends its \nfury, the inundation passes off, the sky clears, the \ncalmer course of nature succeeds. In the forces which \nproduce this derangement, there is a provision for \nmaking it short and moderate. The oscillation stops \nof itself, like the rolling of a ship, when no longer \nimpelled by the wind. Now, why should this be so ? \nWhy should the oscillations, produced by the conflict \nof so many laws, seemingly quite unconnected with \n\n\n\n92 \n\n\n\nTEREESTEIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\neach other, be of this converging and subsiding cha- \nracter? Would it be so under all arrangements ? \nIs it a matter of mechanical necessity that disturbance \nmust end in the restoration of the medium condition ? \nBy no means. There may be an utter subversion of \nthe equilibrium. The ship may roll too far, and may \ncapsise. The oscillations may go on, becoming larger \nand larger, till all trace of the original condition is \nlost ; till new forces of inequality and disturbance are \nbrought into play ; and disorder and irregularity may \nsucceed, without apparent limit or check in its own \nnature, like the spread of a conflagration in a city. \nThis is a possibility in any combination of mechanical \nforces ; why does it not happen in the one now before \nus ? By what good fortune are the powers of heat, of \nwater, of steam, of air, the effects of the earth\'s annual \nand diurnal motions, and probably other causes, so \nadjusted, that through all their struggles the elemental \nworld goes on, upon the whole, so quietly and steadily ? \n"Wliy is the whole fabric of the weather never utterly \nderanged, its balance lost irrecoverably ? "Why is \nthere not an eternal conflict, such as the poets imagme \nto take place in their chaos ? \n\n" For Hot, Cold, Moist, and Dry, four champions fierce, \nStrive here for mastery, and to battle bring \nTheir embryon atoms : \xe2\x80\x94 \n\nto whom these most adhere \nHe rules a moment : Chaos umpire sits. \nAnd by decision more embroils the fray." * \n\nA state of things something like that which Milton \n\n* Par. Lost, b. ii. \n\n\n\nLAWS OP HEAT. AIR. 93 \n\nhere seems to have imagmed is, so far as we know, not \nmechanically impossible. It might have continued to \nobtain, if Hot and Cold, and Moist and Dry had not \nbeen compelled to " run into their places." It will be \nhereafter seen, that in the comparatively simple problem \nof the solar system, a number of very peculiar adjust- \nments were requisite, in order that the system might \nretain a permanent form, in order that its motions \nmight have their cycles, its perturbations their limits \nand period. The problem of the combination of such \nlaws and materials as enter into the constitution of the \natmosphere, is one manifestly of much greater com- \nplexity, and indeed to us probably of insurmountable \ndifficulty as a mechanical problem. But all that inves- \ntigation and analogy teach us, tends to show that it wiU \nresemble the other problem in the nature of its result ; \nand that certain relations of its data, and of the laws \nof its elements, are necessary requisites, for securing \nthe stability of its mean condition, and for giving a \nsmall and periodical character to its deviations from \nsuch a condition. \n\nIt would then be probable, from this reflection alone, \nthat in determining the quantity and the law and \nintensity of the forces, of earth, water, air, and heat, \nthe same regard has been shown to the permanency \nand stability of the terrestrial system, which may be \ntraced in the adjustment of the masses, distances, \npositions, and motions of the bodies of the celestial \nmachine. \n\nThis permanency appears to be, of itself, a suitable \nobject of contrivance. The purpose for which the \n\n\n\n94 \n\n\n\nTERRESTHIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\nworld was made could be answered only by its being \npreserved. But it lias appeared, from the preceding \npart of this and the former chapter, that this per- \nmanence is a permanence of a state of things adapted \nby the most remarkable and multiplied combinations \nto the well-being of man, of animals, of vegetables. \nThe adjustments and conditions therefore, beyond the \nreach of our investigation as they are, by which its \npermanence is secured, must be conceived as fitted \nto add, in each of the instances above adduced, to \nthe admiration which the several manifestations of \nInteUigent Beneficence are calculated to excite. \n\nChap. XI. \xe2\x80\x94 The Lmos of Electricity. \n\nElectricity undoubtedly exists in the atmosphere \nin most states of the air ; but we know very imper- \nfectly the laws of this agent, and are still more ignorant \nof its atmospheric operation. The present state of \nscience does not therefore enable us to perceive those \nadaptations of its laws to its uses, which we can discover \nin those cases where the laws and the uses are both of \nthem more ap]3arent. \n\n"We can, however, easily make out that electrical \nagency plays a veiy considerable part among the clouds, \nin their usual conditions and changes. This may be \neasily shown by Franklin\'s experiment of the electrical \nkite. The clouds are sometimes positively, sometimes \nnegatively, charged, and the rain which descends from \nthem offers also indications of one or other kind of \nelectricity. The changes of wind and alterations of the \n\n\n\nELECTEICITY. \n\n\n\n95 \n\n\n\nform of the clouds are generally accompanied with \nchanges in these electrical indications. Every one \nknows that a thunder -cloud is strongly charged with \nthe electric fluid, (if it he a fluid,) and that the stroke \nof the lightning is an electrical discharge. We may \nadd that it appears, hy recent experiments, that a \ntransfer of electricity between plants and the atmo- \nsphere is perpetually going on during the process of \nvegetation. \n\nWe cannot trace very exactly the precise circum- \nstances, in the occurrences of the atmosx^heric regions, \nwhich depend on the influence of the laws of electricity : \nbut we are tolerably certain, from what has been \nalready noticed, that if these laws did not exist, or were \nvery different fi\'om what the}^ now are, the action of the \nclouds and winds, and the course of vegetation, would \nalso be other than it now is. \n\nIt is therefore at any rate very probable that elec- \ntricity has its apj)ointed and important purposes in \nthe economy of the atmosphere. And this being so, \nwe may see a use in the thunder-storm and the stroke \nof the lightning. These violent events are, with regard \nto the electricity of the atmosphere, what winds are \nwith regard to heat and moistm^e. They restore the \nequilibrium where it has been distm^bed, and carry the \nfluid from places where it is superfluous, to others \nwhere it is deficient. \n\nWe are so constituted, however, that these crises \nimpress almost every one with a feeling of awe. The \ndeep lowering gloom of the thunder- cloud, the over- \nwhelming bm\'st of the explosion, the flash from which \n\n\n\n96 \n\n\n\nTEEEESTHIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\nthe steadiest eye shrinks, and the irresistible arrow of \nthe lightning which no earthly substance can withstand, \nspeak of something fearful, even independently of the \npersonal danger which they may whisper. They \nconvey, far more than any other appearance does, the \nidea of a superior and mighty power, manifesting dis- \npleasure and threatening punishment. Yet we find \nthat this is not the language which they speak to the \nph5^sical inquirer : he sees these formidable symptoms \nonly as the means or the consequences of good. What \noffice the thunderbolt and the whirlwind may have in \nthe moral world, we cannot here discuss : but certainly \nhe must speculate as far beyond the limits of philosophy \nas of piety, who pretends to have learnt that there \ntheir work has more of evil than of good. In the \nnatural world, these apparently destructive agents are, \nlike all the other movements and appearances of the \natmosphere, parts of a great scheme, of which every \ndiscoverable purpose is marked with beneficence as well \nas wisdom. \n\n\n\nChap. XII. \xe2\x80\x94 The Laws of Magnetism, \n\nMagnetism has no very obvious or apparently \nextensive office in the mechanism of the atmosphere \nand the earth : but the mention of it may be intro- \nduced, because its ascertained relations to the other \npowers which exist in the system are well suited to \nshow us the connection subsisting throughout the \nuniverse, and to check the suspicion, if any such should \narise, that any law of nature is without its use. The \n\n\n\nMAGNETISM. \n\n\n\n97 \n\n\n\nparts of creation wlien these uses are most obscure, \nare precisely those parts when the laws themselves are \nleast known. \n\nWhen indeed we consider the vast service of which \nmagnetism is to man, by supplying him with that \ninvaluable mstrument the mariner\'s compass, many \np\'ersons will require no further evidence of this pro- \nperty being introduced into the frame of tilings with a \nworthy purpose. As however, we have hitherto excluded \nuse in the mis from our line of argument, we shall not \nhere make any exception in favour of navigation, and \nwhat we shall observe belongs to another view of the \nsubject. \n\nMagnetism has been discovered in modern times to \nhave so close a connexion with galvanism, that they \nmay be said to be almost different aspects of the same \nagent. All the phenomena which we can produce with \nmagnets, ^we can imitate with coils of galvanic wire. \nThat galvanism exists in the earth, we need no proof. \nElectricity, which appears to differ from galvanic \ncurrents, much m the same manner in which a fluid at \nrest differs from a fluid in motion, appears to be only \ngalvanism in equilibrium, is there in abundance ; and \nrecently, Mr. Fox* has shown by experiment that \nmetalliferous veins, as they lie in the earth, exercise a \ngalvanic influence on each other. Something of this \nkind might have been anticipated ; for masses of metal \nin contact, if they differ in temperature or other \ncircumstances, are known to produce a galvanic \ncurrent. Hence we have undoubtedly streams of galvanic \n\n* Phil. Trans., 1831. \n\nH \n\n\n\n98 \n\n\n\nTEREESTRIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\ninfluence moving along in the earth. Whether or not \nsuch causes as these produce the directive power of \nthe magnetic needle, we cannot here pretend to decide ; \nthey can hardly fail to affect it. The Aurora Borealis \ntoo, probably an electrical phenomenon, is said, under \nparticular circumstances, to agitate the magnetic needle. \nIt is not surprising, therefore, that, if electricity have \nan important offtce in the atmosphere, magnetism \nshould exist in the earth. It seems, likely, that the \nmagnetic properties of the earth may be collateral \nresults of the existence of the same cause by which \nelectrical agency operates ; an agency which, as we \nhave already seen, has important offices in the processes \nof vegetable life. And thus magnetism belongs to the \nsame system of beneficial contrivance to which elec- \ntricity has .been already traced. \n\nWe see, however, on this subject very dimly and a \nvery small way. It can hardly be doubted that \nmagnetism has other functions than those we have \nnoticed. \n\nChap. XIII. \xe2\x80\x94 Tlie Properties of Light with regard to Vegetation. \n\nThe illuminating power of light will come under our \nconsideration hereafter. Its agency, with regard to \norganic life, is too important not to be noticed, though \nthis must be done briefly. Light appears to be as neces- \nsary to the health of plants as air or moisture. A plant \nmay, indeed, grow without it, but it does not appear \nthat a species could be so continued. Under such a \nprivation, the parts which are usually green, assume a \n\n\n\nLIGHT AND PLANTS. \n\n\n\n99 \n\n\n\nwhite colour, as is the case with vegetables grown in a \ncellar, or protected by a covering for the sake of \nproducing this very effect ; thus, celery is in this \nmanner blanched, or etiolated. \n\nThe part of the process of vegetable life for which \nlight is especially essential, appears to be the functions \nof the leaves ; these are affected by this agent in a \nvery remarkable manner. The moisture which plants \nimbibe is, by their vital energies, carried to their leaves ; \nand is there brought in contact with the atmosphere, \nwhich, besides other ingredients, contains, in general, \na portion of carbonic acid. So long as light is iwesent, \nthe leaf decomposes the carbonic acid, appropriates \nthe carbon to the formation of its own proper juices, \nand returns the disengaged oxygen into the atmos- \nphere ; thus restoring the atmospheric air to a con- \ndition in which it is more fitted than it was before for \nthe support of animal life. The plant thus prepares the \nsupport of life for other creatures at the same time that \nit absorbs its own. The greenness of those members \nwhich affect that colour, and the disengagement of \noxygen, are the indications that its vital powers are in \nhealthful action : as soon as we remove light from the \nplant, these indications cease : it has no longer power to \nimbibe carbon and disengage oxygen, but, on the con- \ntrary, it gives back some of the carbon already obtained, \nand robs the atmosphere of oxygen for the purpose of \nre-converting this into carbonic acid. \n\nIt cannot well be conceived that such effects of light \non vegetables, as we have described, should occur, if \nthat agent, of whatever nature it is, and those organs, \n\nh2 \n\n\n\n100 \n\n\n\nTEllEESTRIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\nhad not been adapted to each other. But the subject \nis here introduced that the reader may the more readily \nreceive the conviction of combining purpose which \nmust arise, on finding that an agent, possessing these \nvery peculiar chemical properties, is employed to \nproduce also those effects of illumination, vision, &c., \nwhich form the most obvious portion of the properties \nof light. \n\nChap. XIY.\xe2\x80\x94Sound. \n\nBesides the function which air discharges as the \ngreat agent in the changes of meteorology and vege- \ntation, it has another office, also of great and extensive \nimportance, as the vehicle of sound. \n\nI. The communication of sound through the air takes \nplace by means of a process altogether different from \nanything of which we have yet spoken : namely, by the \npropagation of minute vibrations of the particles from \none part of the fluid mass to another, without any local \nmotion of the fluid itself. \n\nPerhaps we may most distinctly conceive the kind of \neffect here spoken of, by comparing it to the motion \nproduced by the wind in a field of standing corn ; \ngrassy waves travel visibly over the field, in the direction \nin which the wind blows, but this appearance of an \nobject moving is delusive. The only real motion is \nthat of the ears of grain, of which each goes and \nreturns, as the stalk stoops and recovers itself. This \nmotion affects successively a line of ears in the direction \nof the wind, and affects simultaneously all those ears of \n\n\n\nSOUND. \n\n\n\n101 \n\n\n\nwliicli the elevation or depression forms one visible \nwave. The elevations and depressions are i)ropagated \nin a constant direction, while the parts with which the \nspace is filled only vibrate to and fro. Of exactly such \na nature is the propagation of sound through the air. \nThe particles of air go and return through very minute \nspaces, and this vibrator}\' motion runs through the \natmosphere from the sounding body to the ear. Waves, \nnot of elevation and depression, but of condensation \nand rarefaction, are transmitted ; and the sound thus \nbecomes an object of sense to the organ. \n\nAnother familiar instance of the propagation of \nvibrations we have in the circles on the surface of \nsmooth water, which diverge from the point where it is \ntouched by a small object, as a drop of rain. In the \nbeginning of a shower for instance, when the drops \ncome distinct, though frequent, we may see each drop \ngiving rise to a ring, formed of two or three close \nconcentric circles, which grow and spread, leaving the \ninterior of the ckcles smooth, and gradually reaching \nparts of the surface more and more distant from theii* \norigin. In this instance, it is clearly not a portion of \nthe water which flows onwards; but the disturbance, \nthe rise and fall of the surface which makes the ring- \nformed waves, passes into wider and wider circles, and \nthus the undulation is transmitted from its starting- \nplace, to points in all directions on the surface of the \nfluid. \n\nThe diffusion of these rmg-formed undulations from \ntheir centre resembles the diffusion of a sound from \nthe place where it is produced to the pomts where it is \n\n\n\n102 \n\n\n\nTEEUESTRIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\nheard. Tlie disturbance, or vibration, b}^ which it is \nconveyed, travels at the same rate in all directions, and \nthe waves which are propagated are hence of a circular \nform. They differ, however, from those on the surface \nof water ; for sound is communicated upwards and \ndownwards, and in all intermediate directions, as well \nas horizontally; hence the waves of sound are spherical, \nthe point where the sound is produced being the centre \nof the sphere. \n\nThis diffusion of vibrations in spherical shells of \nsuccessive condensation and rarefaction, will easily be \nseen to be different from any local motion of the \nair, as wind, and to be independent of that. The \ncn\'cles on the surface of water will spread on a river \nwhich is flowing, provided it be smooth, as well as on \na standing canal. \n\nNot only are such undulations proioagated almost \nundisturbed by any local motion of the fluid in which \nthey take place, but also, many may be propagated m \nthe same fluid at the same time, without disturbing \neach other. We may see this effect on water. When \nseveral drops fall near each other, the circles which \nthey produce cross each other, without either of them \nbeing lost,\' and the separate courses of the rings may \nstill be traced. \n\nAll these consequences, both in water, in air, and in \nany other fluid, can be very exactly investigated upon \nmechanical principles, and the greater part of the \nphenomena can thus be shown to result from the \nproperties of the fluids. \n\nThere are several remarkable circumstances in the \n\n\n\nSOUND. \n\n\n\n103 \n\n\n\nway in which air answers its purpose as the vehicle of \nsound, of which we will now point out a few. \n\nII. The loudness of sound is such as is convenient \nfor common purposes. The organs of speech can, in \nthe present constitution of the air, produce, without \nfatigue, such a tone of voice as can be heard with \ndistinctness and Avith comfort. That any great alte- \nration in this element might be incommodious, we may \njudge from the difficulties to which persons are subject \nwho are dull of hearing, and from the disagreeable \neffects of a voice much louder than usual, or so low as \nto be indistinct. Sounds produced by the human \norgans, with other kinds of air, are very different from \nthose in our common air. If a man inhale a qupjitity \nof hydrogen gas, and then speak, his voice is scarcely \naudible. \n\nThe loudness of sounds becomes smaller in propor- \ntion as they come from a greater distance. This enables \nus to judge of the distance of objects, in some degree \nat least, by the sounds which proceed from them. \nMoreover it is found that we can judge of the position \nof objects by the ear : and this judgment seems to be \nformed by comparing the loudness of the impression \nof the same sound on the two ears and two sides of \nthe head.*\' \n\nThe loudness of sounds appears to depend on the \nextent of vibration of the particles of air, and this is \ndetermined by the vibrations of the sounding body. \n\nIII. The pitch or the differences of acute and grave, \nin sounds, form another important property, and one \n\n* Mr. Gough in Manch. Mem. vol. \n\n\n\n104 \n\n\n\nTERRESTRIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\nwhich fits them for a great part of their purposes. \nBy the association of different notes, we have all the \nresults of melody and harmony in musical sound ; and \nof intonation and modulation of the voice, of accent, \ncadence, emphasis, expression, passion, in speech. The \nsong of birds, which is one of their principal modes of \ncommunication, depends chiefly for its distinctions and \nits significance upon the combinations of acute and grave. \n\nThese differences are produced by the different \nrapidity of vibration of the particles of air. The \ngravest sound has about thirty vibrations in a second, \nthe most acute about one thousand. Between these \nlimits each sound has a musical character, and from \nthe different relations of the number of vibrations in \na second arise all the differences of musical intervals, \nconcords and discords. \n\nIV. The quality of sounds is another of their diffe- \nrences. This is the name given to the difference of \nnotes of the same pitch, that is the same note as to \nacute and grave, when produced by different instru- \nments. If a flute and a violin be in unison, the notes \nare still quite different sounds. It is this kind of \ndifference which distinguishes the voice of one man \nfrom that of another : and it is manifestly therefore \none of great consequence : since it connects the voice \nwith the particular person, and is almost necessary in \norder that language may be a medium of intercourse \nbetween men. \n\nV. The a.rticulate character of sounds is for us one \nof the most important arrangements which exist in the \nworld ; for it is by this that sounds become the inter- \n\n\n\nI \n\nSOUND. 105 \n\npreters of tliought, will, and feeling, the means by \nwhich a person can convey his wants, his instructions, \nhis promises, his kindness, to others ; by which one \nman can regulate the actions and influence the con- \n^dctions and judgments of another. It is in ^artue of \nthe possibility of shaping air into words, that the \nimperceptible vibrations which a man produces ui the \natmosphere, become some of his most important actions, \nthe foundations of the highest moral and social relations, \nand the condition and instrument of all the advancement \nand improvement of which he is susceptible. \n\nIt appears that the differences of articulate sound \narise from the different form of the cavity through \nwhich the sound is made to proceed immediately \nafter being produced. In the human voice the sound \nis produced in the larynx, and modified by the cavity \nof the mouth, and the various organs which surround \nthis cavity. The laws by which articulate sounds are \nthus produced have not yet been fully developed, but \nappear to be m the progTess of being so. \n\nThe properties of sounds which have been mentioned, \ndifferences of loudness, of pitch, of quality, and articu- \nlation, appear to be all requisite in order that sound \nshall answer its purposes in the economy of animal \nand of human hfe. And how was the aii* made capable \nof conveying these four differences, at the same time \nth9.t the organs were made capable of producing them ? \nSurely by a most refined and skilful adaptation, applied \nwith a most comprehensive design. \n\nW. Again ; is it by chance that the air and the ear \nexist together ? Did the air produce the organisation \n\n\n\n106 \n\n\n\nTERRESTRIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\nof the ear ? or the ear, independent^ organised, anti- \ncipate the constitution of the atmosphere ? Or is not \nthe only intelligible account of the matter, this, that \none was made for the other : that there is a mutual \nadaptation produced by an Intelligence which was \nacquainted with the properties of both ; which adjusted \nthem to each other as we find them adjusted, in order \nthat birds might communicate by song, that men might \nspeak and hear, and that language might play its extra- \nordinary part in its operation upon men\'s thoughts, \nactions, institutions, and fortunes ? \n\nThe vibrations of an elastic fluid like the air, and \ntheir properties, follow from the laws of motion ; and \nwhether or not these laws of the motion of fluids might \nin reality have been other than they are, they appear \nto us inseparably connected with the existence of \nmatter, and as much a thing of necessity as we can \nconceive anything in the universe to be. The propa^ \ngation of such vibrations, therefore, and their pro- \nperties, we may at present allow to be a necessary part \nof the constitution of the atmosphere. But what is it \nthat makes these vibrations become sound ? How is \nit that they produce such an effect on our senses, and, \nthrough those, on our minds ? The vibrations of the \nair seem to be of themselves no more fitted to pro- \nduce sound than to loroduce smell. We know that \nsuch vibrations do not universally produce sound, \nbut only between certain limits. When the vibra- \ntions are fewer than thirty in a second, ;tliey are per- \nceived as separate throbs, and not as a continued \nsound ; and there is a certain limit of rapidity, beyond \n\n\n\nTHE ATMOSPHERE. \n\n\n\n107 \n\n\n\nwhicji the vibrations become inaudible. This limit is \ndifferent to different ears, and we are thus assured by \none person\'s ear that there are vibrations, though to \nthat of another they do not produce sound. How was \nthe human ear adapted so that its perception of vibra- \ntions as sounds should fall within these limits ? \xe2\x80\x94 the \nvery Hmits witliin which the vibrations fall, which it \nmost concerns us to perceive ; those of the human \nvoice for instance ? How nicely are the organs adjusted \nwith regard to the most minute mechanical motions of \nthe elements ! \n\nChap, XV. \xe2\x80\x94 The Atmosphere. \n\nWe \'have considered in succession a number of the \nproperties and operations of the atmosphere, and have \nfound them separately very curious. But an additional \ninterest belongs to the subject when we consider them \nas combined. The atmosphere under this point of \nview must appear a contrivance of the most extraor- \ndinary kind. To answer any of its purposes, to carry \non any of its processes, separately, requires peculiar \narrangements and adjustments ; to answer all at once, \npurposes so varied, to combine without confusion so \nmany different trains, implies powers and attributes \nwhich can hardly fail to excite in a liigh degree our \nadmiration and reverence. \n\nIf the atmosphere be considered as a vast machine, \nit is difficult to form any just conception of the pro- \nfound sldll and comprehensiveness of design which it \ndisplays. It diffuses and tempers the heat of different \n\n\n\n108 \n\n\n\nTERRESTRIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\nclimates ; for this purpose it performs a circulation \noccupying tlie whole range from the pole to the equator ; \nand while it is doing this, it executes many smaller \ncii\'cuits between the sea and the land. At the same \ntime, it is the means of forming clouds and rain, and \nfor this purpose, a perpetual circulation of the watery \npart of the atmosphere goes on between its lower and \nupper regions. Besides this complication of circuits, \nit exercises a more irregular agency, in the occasional \nwinds which blow from all quarters, tending perpetually \nto restore the equilibrium of heat and moisture. But \nthis incessant and multiplied activity discharges only a \npart of the fmictions of the air. It is, moreover, the \nmost important and universal material of the growth \nand sustenance of plants and animals ; and is for this \npurpose every where present and almost uniform in its \nquantity. AVith all its local motion, it has also the \nofi&ce of a medium of communication between intel- \nligent creatures, wdiich office it performs by another set \nof motions, entirely different both from the circulation \nand the occasional movements already mentioned ; \nthese different kinds of motions not interfering mate- \nrially with each other : and this last purpose, so \nremote from the others in its nature, it answers in a \nmanner so perfect and so easy, that we cannot \nimagine that the object could have been more com- \npletely attained, if this had been the sole purpose \nfor which the atmosphere had been created. With \nall these qualities, this extraordinary part of our \nterrestrial system is scarcely ever in the way : and \nwhen we have occasion to do so, we put forth our \n\n\n\nLIGHT. \n\n\n\n109 \n\n\n\nhand and push it aside, without being aware of its \nbeing near us. \n\nWe may add, that it is, in addition to all that we \nhave hitherto noticed, a constant source of utility and \nbeauty in its effects on light. Without air we should \nsee nothing, except objects on which the sun\'s rays fell, \ndirectly or by reflection. It is the atmosphere which \nconverts sunbeams into daylight, and fills the space in \nwhich we are with illumination. \n\nThe contemplation of the atmosphere, as a machine \nwhich answers all these purposes, is well suited to \nimpress upon us the strongest conviction of the most \nrefined, far-seeing, and far-ruling contrivance. It seems \nimpossible to suppose that these various properties \nwere so bestowed and so combined, any otherwise than \nby a beneficent and intelligent Being, able and willing \nto diffuse organisation, life, health, and enjoyment \nthrough all parts of the visible world ; possessing a \nfertility of means which no multiplicity of objects could \nexhaust, and a discrimination of consequences which \nno complication of conditions could embarrass. \n\nChap. XYL\xe2\x80\x94 Light \n\nBesides the hearing and sound there is another \nmode by which we become sensible of the impressions \nof external objects, namely, sight and light. This \nsubject also offers some observations bearing on our \npresent purpose. \n\nIt has been declared by writers on Natural Theology, \nthat the human eye exhibits such evidence of design \n\n\n\n110 \n\n\n\nTERRESTRIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\nand skill in its construction, tliat no one, who considers \nit attentively, can resist this impression : nor does \nthis appear to be saying too much. It must, at the \nsame time, be obvious that this construction of the eye \ncould not answer its purposes, except the constitution \nof light corresponded to it. Light is an element of the \nmost peculiar kind and properties, and such an element \ncan hardly be conceived to have been placed in the \nuniverse without a regard to its operation and functions. \nAs the eye is made for light, so light must have been \nmade, at least among other ends, for the eye. \n\nI. We must expect to comprehend imperfectl}^ only \nthe mechanism of the elements. Still, we have endea- \nvoured to show that in some instances the arrange- \nments by which their purposes are affected, are, to \na certain extent, intelHgible. In order to explain, \nhowever, m what manner hght answers those ends \nwhich appear to us its principal ones, we must know \nsomethiug of the nature of light. There have, hitherto, \nbeen, among men of science, two prevailing opinions \nupon this subject: some considering light as consisting \nin the emission of luminous particles ; others accounting \nfor its phenomena by the propagation of vibrations \nthrough a highly subtle and elastic ether. The former \nopmion has, till lately, been most generally entertained \nin this country, having been the hypothesis on which \nNewton made his calculations ; the latter is the one to \nwhich most of those persons have been led, who, in \nrecent times, have endeavoured to deduce general con- \nclusions from the newly discovered phenomena of light. \nAmong these persons, the theory of undulations is \n\n\n\nLIGHT. \n\n\n\nIll \n\n\n\nconceived to be established in nearly the same manner, \nand almost as certainly, as the doctrine of universal \ngravitation ; namely, by a series of laws inferred from \nnumerous facts, which, proceeding from different sets \nof phenomena, are found to converge to one common \nview ; and by calculations foimded upon the theory, \nwhich, indicating new and untried facts, are found to \nagree exactly wdth experiment. \n\nWe cannot here introduce a sketch of the j)rogress \nby which the phenomena have thus led to the acceptance \nof the theory of undulations. But this theory appears \nto have such claims to om\' assent, that the views wliich \nwe have to offer with regard to the design exercised in \nthe adaptation of light to its purposes, will depend on \nthe undulatory theory, so far as they depend on theory \nat all.* \n\nII. The impressions of sight, like those of hearing, \ndiffer in intensity and in kind. Brightness and Colour \nare the principal differences among visible things, as \nloudness and pitch are among sounds. But there is \na singular distinction between these senses in one \nrespect : every object and part of an object seen, is \nnecessarily and inevitabl}^ referred to some position in \nthe space before us ; and hence visi-ble things have \nplace, magnitude, form, as well as light, shade, and \ncolour. There is nothing analogous to this in the sense \nof hearing ; for though we can, in some approximate \n\n* The reader who is acquainted with the two theories of light, will \nperceive that though we have adopted the doctrine of the ether, the \ngreater part of the arguments adduced would be equally forcible, if \nexpressed in the language of the theory of emission. \n\n\n\n112 \n\n\n\nTERRESTRIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\ndegree, guess the situation of the point from which a sound \nproceeds, this is a secondary process, distinguishable \nfrom the perception of the somid itself; whereas we \ncannot conceive visible things without form and place. \n\nThe law according to which the sense of vision is \nthus affected, appears to be this. By the properties of \nlight, the external scene produces, through the trans- \nparent parts of the eye, an image or picture exactly \nresembling the reality, upon the back part of the retina : \nand each point which we see is seen in the direction of \na line passing from its image on the retina, through \nthe centre of the pupil of the eye.* In this manner we \nperceive by the eye the situation of every point, at the \nsame time that we perceive its existence ; and by \ncombining the situations of many points, we have \nforms and outlines of every sort. \n\nThat w^e should receive from the eye this notice of \nthe position of the object as well as of its other visible \nqualities, appears to be absolutely necessary for our \nintercourse with the external world ; and the faculty of \ndoing so is so intimate a part of our constitution that \nwe cannot conceive ourselves divested of it. Yet in \norder to imagine ourselves destitute of this faculty, we \nhave only to suppose that the eye should receive its \nimpressions as the ear does, and should apprehend red \nand green, bright and dark, without placing them side \nby side ; as the ear takes in the different sounds which \ncompose a concert, without attributiag them to different \nparts of space. \n\n* Or rather through the focal centre of the eye, which is always near \nthe centre of the pupil. \n\n\n\nLIGHT. \n\n\n\n1]3 \n\n\n\nThe peculiar i)roperty tlius belonging to vision, of \npercei^Ting position, is so essential to us, that we may \nreadily believe that some particular provision has been \nmade for its existence. The remarkable mechanism of \nthe eye (precisely resembling that of a camera ohscura,) \nby which it produces an image on the nervous web \nformmg its hinder part, seems to have this effect for \nits main object. And this mechanism necessarily \nsupposes certain corresponding properties in light \nitself, by means of which such an effect becomes \npossible. \n\nThe main properties of light which are concerned in \nthis arrangement, are reflexion and refraction : re- \nflexion, by which light is reflected and scattered by all \nobjects, and thus comes to the eye from all : and \nrefraction, by which its course is bent, when it passes \nobliquely out of one transparent medium into another ; \nand by which, consequently, convex transparent sub- \nstances, such as the cornea and humours of the eye, \npossess the power of making the light converge to a \nfocus or pomt ; an assemblage of such points forming \nthe images on the retina, which we have mentioned. \n\nReflexion and refraction are therefore the essential \nand indispensable properties of Hght ; and so far as we \ncan understand, it appears that it was necessary that \nlight should possess such properties, in order that it \nmight form a medium of communication between man \nand the external world. We may consider its power of \npassing through transparent media (as air) to be given \nin order that it may enligliten the earth ; its affection \nof reflexion, for the purpose of making colours visible ; \n\n\n\n114 \n\n\n\nTEEUESTfilAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\nand its refraction to be bestowed, tlia,t it may enable us \nto discriminate figure and position, by means of the \nlenses of the eye. \n\nIn this manner light may be considered as consti- \ntuted with a peculiar reference to the eyes of animals, \nand its leading properties may be looked upon as \ncontrivances or adaptations to fit it for its visual office. \nAnd in such a point of view the perfection of the \ncontrivance or adaptation must be allowed to be very \nremarkable. \n\nIII. But besides the properties of reflexion and re- \nfraction, the most obvious laws of light, an extraordinary \nvariety of phenomena have lately been discovered, \nregulated by other laws of the most curious Idnd, \nuniting great complexity with great symmetry. We \nrefer to the phenomena of diffraction, polarisation, and \nperiodical colours, produced by crystals and by thui \nplates. We have, in these facts, a vast mass of pro- \nperties and laws, offering a subject of stud}^ which \nhas been pursued with eminent skill and intelligence. \nBut these properties and laws, so far as has yet been \ndiscovered, exert no agency whatever, and have no \npurpose, in the general economy of nature. Beams of \nlight polarised in contrary directions exhibit the most \nrema^rkable differences when they pass through certain \ncrystals, but manifest no discoverable difference in \ntheir immediate impression on the e3"e. We have, \ntherefore, here a number of laws of light, v/hich we \ncannot perceive to be established with any design which \nhas a reference to the other parts of the universe. \n\nUndoubtedly it is exceedingly possible that these \n\n\n\nLIGHT. \n\n\n\n115 \n\n\n\ndifferences of light may operate in some quarter, and \nin some ^^\'s.J, which, we cannot detect ; and that these \nlaws may have purposes and may answer ends of which \nwe have no suspicion. All the analogy of nature \nteaches us a lesson of humility, with regard to the \nrehance we are to place on our discernment and \njudgment as to such matters. But with our present \nknowledge we may observe, that this curious system \nof phenomena appears to he a collateral result of the \nmechanism by which the effects of Hght are produced ; \nand therefore a necessary consequence of the existence \nof that element of wliich the offices are so numerous \nand so beneficent. \n\nThe new properties of light, and the speculations \nfounded upon them, have led many persons to the \nbehef of the undulatory theory ; which, as we have said, \nis considered by some philosophers as demonstrated. \nIf we adopt this theory, we consider the luminiferous \nether to have no local motion : and to produce refrac- \ntion and reflexion by the operation of its elasticity \nalone. We must necessarily suppose the tenuity of the \nether to be extreme; and if we moreover suppose its \ntension to be Yerj great, which the vast velocity of \nlight requires us to suppose, the vibrations by which \nlight is propagated will be transverse vibrations, that is, \nthe motion to and fro will be athwart the line along \nwhich the undulation travels. The reader may perhaps \naid his conception of this motion, by attending to the \nundulation of a long pendant streammg in the wind \nfrom the mast-head of a ship : he will see that while the \nundulation runs visibly along the strip of cloth, from \n\nI 2 \n\n\n\n116 \n\n\n\nTEREESTRIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\nthe mast-head to the loose end, every part of the strip \nin succession moves to and fro across this line. \n\nFrom this transverse character in the luminiferons \nvibrations, all the laws of polarisation necessarily \nfollow: and the properties of transverse vibrations, \ncombined with the properties of vibrations in general, \ngive rise to all the curious and numerous phenomena \nof colours of which we have spoken. If the vibrations \nbe transverse, they may be resolved into two different \nplanes ; this is polarisation : if they fall on a medium \nwhich has different elasticity in different directions, \nthey will be divided into two sets of vibrations ; this is \ndouble refraction : and so on. Some of the new pro- \nperties, however, as the fringes of shadows and the \ncolours of thin plates, follow from the undulatory \ntheory, whether the vibrations be transverse or not. \n\nIt would\' appear, therefore, that the propagation of \nlight by means of a subtle medium, leads necessarily \nto the extraordmary collection of properties which have \nrecently been discovered; and, at any rate, its pro- \npagation by the transverse vibrations of such a medium \ndoes lead inevitably to these results. \n\nLeaving it therefore to future times to point out the \nother reasons (or uses if they exist) of these newly \ndiscovered properties of light, in their bearing on other \nparts of the world , we may venture to say, that if light \nwas to be propagated through transparent media by the \nundulations of a subtle fluid, these properties must \nresult, as necessarily as the rainbow results from the \nunequal refrangibility of different colours. This phe- \nnomenon and those, appear alike to be the collateral \n\n\n\nLIGHT. \n\n\n\n117 \n\n\n\nconsequences of the laws impressed on liglit witli a \nview to its principal offices. \n\nThus the exquisitely beautiful and symmetrical \nphenomena and laws of polarisation, and of cr^^stalline \nand other effects, may be looked upon as indications of \nthe delicacy and subtlety of the mechanism by which \nman, through his visual organs, is put in communi- \ncation with the external world; is made acquainted \nwith the forms and qualities of objects in the most \nremote regions of space; and is enabled, in some \nmeasure, to determine his position and relation in a \nuniverse in which he is but an atom. \n\nIV. If we suppose it clearly established that light is \nj)roduced by tlie vibrations of an ether, we find con- \nsiderations ofi\'er themselves, similar to those which \noccurred in the case of sound. The vibrations of this \nether affect our organs with the sense of light and \ncolour. Wh}\'\', or how do they do this ? It is only \nwithin certain limits that the effect is produced, and \nthese limits are comparatively narrower here than in \nthe case of sound. The whole scale of colour, from \nviolet to crimson, lies between vibrations which are \n458 million millions, and 727 million millions in a \nsecond ; a proportion much smaller than the corres- \nponding ratio for perceptible sounds. Why should \nsuch vibrations produce perception in the eye, and no \nothers ? There must be here some peculiar adaptation \nof the sensitive powers to these wonderfully minute and \ncondensed mechanical motions. What happens when \nthe vibrations are slower than the red, or quicker than \nthe blue ? They do not produce vision : do they \n\n\n\n118 \n\n\n\nTERRESmiAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\nproduce any effect ? Have tliey anytliing to do with \nheat or with electricity ? We cannot tell. The ether \nmust be as susceptible of these vibrations, as of those \nwliich produce vision. But the mechanism of the eye \nis adjusted to this latter kind only ; and this precise \nkind, (whether alone or mixed with others,) joroceeds \nfrom the sun and from other luminaries, and thus \ncommunicates to us the state of the visible universe. \nThe mere material elements then are full of properties \nwhich we can understand no othermse, than as the \nresults of a refined contrivance. \n\nChap. XYIl.\xe2\x80\x94Tke Ether. \n\nIn what has just been said, we have spoken of light, \nonly with respect to its power of illuminating objects, \nand conve}dng the impression of them to the eye. It \npossesses, however, beyond all doubt, many other \nqualities. Light is intimately connected with heat, as \nwe see in the case of the sun and of flame ; yet it is \nclear that light and heat are not identical. Light is \nevidently connected too with electricity and galvanism; \nand perhaps through these, vdth magnetism : it is, as \nhas already been mentioned, indispensably necessary \nto the healthy discharge of the functions of vegetable \nlife ; without it plants cannot duly exercise then" vital \npowers : it manifests also chemical action in various \nways. \n\nThe luminiferous ether then, if we so call the medium \nin which light is propagated, must possess many other \nproperties besides those mechanical ones on which the \n\n\n\nTHE ETHER. \n\n\n\n119 \n\n\n\nilluminating power depends. It must not be merely \nhke a fluid poured into tlie vacant spaces and interstices \nof the material Avorld, and exercising no action on \nobjects ; it must affect the physical, chemical, and vital \npowers of what it touches. It must be a great and \nactive agent m the work of the universe, as well as an \nactive reporter of what is done by other agents. It \nmust possess a number of comj^lex and refined con- \ntrivances and adjustments which we cannot analyse, \nbearing upon plants and chemical compounds, and the \nimponderable agents ; as well as those laws which we \nconceive that we have analysed, by which it is the \nvehicle of illumination and vision. \n\nWe have had occasion to point out how complex is \nthe machiner}^ of the atmosphere, and how varied its \nobjects ; since, besides being the means of commu- \nnication as the medium of sound, it has known laws, \nwhich connect it with heat and moisture ; and other \nlaws, in virtue of which it is decomposed by vegetables. \nIt appears, in lil^e manner, that the ether is not only \nthe vehicle of light, . but has also laws, at present \nunknown, which connect it with heat, electricity, and \nother agencies ; and other laws through which it is \nnecessary to vegetables, enabling them to decompose \nair. All analogy leads us to suppose that if we knew \nas much of the constitution of the luminiferous ether \nas we know of the constitution of the atmosphere, we \nshould find it a machine as complex and artificial, as \nskilfully and admirably constructed. \n\nWe know at present very little indeed of the con- \nstruction of this machine. Its existence is, perhaps, \n\n\n\n120 \n\n\n\nTERRESTRIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\nsatisfactorily made out ; in order tliat we may not \ninterrupt tlie jDrogress of our argument, we shall refer \nto other works for the reasonings which appear to lead \nto this conclusion. But whether heat, electricitj^, \ngalvanism, magnetism, be fluids ; or effects or modi- \nfications of fluids ; and whether such fluids or ethers be \nthe same with the luminiferous ether, or with each \nother ; are questions of which all or most appear to be \nat present undecided, and it would be presumptuous \nand premature here to take one side or the other. \n\nThe mere fact, however, that there is such an ether, \nand that it has properties related to other agents, in \nthe way we have suggested, is w^ell calculated to extend \nour views of the structure of the universe, and of the \nresources, if we may so speak, of the ]iower by which \nit is arranged. The solid and fluid matter of the earth \nis the most obvious to our senses ; over this, and in its \ncavities, is poured an invisible fluid, the air, by which \nwarmth and life are diffused and fostered, and by which \nmen communicate with men : over and through this \nagain, and reaching, so far as we Imow, to the utmost \nbounds of the universe, is spread another most subtle \nand attenuated fluid, which, by the play of another set \nof agents, aids the energies of nature, and which, \nfilling all parts of space, is a means of communication \nwith other planets and other systems. \n\nThere is nothing in all this like any material \nnecessity, compelling the world to be as it is and no \notherwise. How should the properties of these three \ngreat classes of agents, visible objects, aii\', and light, \nso harmonise and assist each other, that order and life \n\n\n\nEECAPITUIuiTION. \n\n\n\n121 \n\n\n\nshould be tlie result ? Without all the three, and all \nthe three constituted in their present manner, and \nsubject to their present laws, living things could not \nexist. If the earth had no atmosphere, or if the world \nhad no ether, all must be inert and dead. Who con- \nstructed these three extraordinarily complex pieces of \nmachinery, the earth with its productions, the atmos- \nphere, and the ether ? Who fitted them uito each \nother in manj^ parts, and thus made it possible for them \nto work together ? We conceive there can be but one \nanswer ; a most wise and good God. \n\nChap. XVIII. \xe2\x80\x94 Recapitulation. \n\nI. It has been shown in the preceding chapters that \na great number of quantities and laws appear to have \nbeen selected in the construction of the universe ; and \nthat by the adjustment to each other of the magnitudes \nand laws thus selected, the constitution of the world is \nwhat we find it, and is fitted for the support of vege- \ntables and animals, in a manner in which it could not \nhave been, if the properties and quantities of the \nelements had been different from what they are. We \nshall here recapitulate the principal of the laws and mag- \nnitudes to which this conclusion has been shown to apply. \n\n1. The Length of the Year, which depends on the \nforce of the attraction of the sun, and its distance from \nthe earth. \n\n2. The Length of the Day. \n\n3. The Mass of the Earth, which depends on its \nmagnitude and density. \n\n\n\n122 \n\n\n\nTEERESTRIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\n\n\n4. The Magnitude of tlie Ocean. \n\n5. The Magnitude of the Atmosphere. \n\n6. The Law and Kate of the Conducting Power of \nthe Earth. \n\n7. The Law and Eate of the Eadiating Power of the \nEarth. \n\n8. The Law and Eate of the Expansion of Water \nby Heat. \n\n9. The Law and Eate of the Expansion of Water \nby cold, below 40 degrees. \n\n10. The Law and Quantity of the Expansion of \nWater in Freezing. \n\n11. The Quantity of Latent Heat absorbed in \nThawing. \n\n12. The Quantity of Latent Heat absorbed in \nEvaporation. \n\n13. The Law and Eate of Evaporation with regard \nto Heat. \n\n14. The Law and Eate of the Expansion of Air by \nHeat. \n\n15. The Quantity of Heat absorbed in the Expan- \nsion of Air. \n\n16. The Law and Eate of the Passage of Aqueous \nVapour through Air. \n\n17. The Laws of Electricity; its relations to Air \nand Moisture. \n\n18. The Fluidity, Density, and Elasticity of the Air, \nby means of which its vibrations produce Sound. \n\n19. The Fluidity, Density, and Elasticity of the \nEther, by means of which its vibrations produce light. \n\n11. These are the data, the elements, as astronomers \n\n\n\nRECAPITULATION. \n\n\n\n123 \n\n\n\ncall the quantities which determine a planet\'s orbit, on \nwhich the mere inorganic part of the universe is \nconstructed. To these, the constitution of the organic \nworld is adapted in innumerable points, by laws of \nwhich we can trace the results, though we cannot \nanalyse their machinery. Thus, the vital functions of \nvegetables have periods which correspond to the length \nof the year, and of the day ; their vital powers have \nforces which correspond to the force of gravity ; the \nsentient faculties of man are such that the vibrations \nof air, (mthm certain Hmits,) are perceived as sound, \nthose of ether, as light. And while we are enumerating \nthese correspondencies, we perceive that there are \nthousands of others, and that we can only select a very \nsmall number of those where the relation happens to be \nmost clearly made out or most easily explamed. \n\nNow, in the list of the mathematical demerits of the \nuniverse which has just been given, why have we such \nlaws and such quantities as there occur, and no other ? \nFor the most part, the data there enumerated are \nindependent of each other, and might be altered sepa- \nrately, so far as the mechanical conditions of the case \nare concerned. Some of these data probably depend \non each other : thus the latent heat of aqueous vapour \nis perhaps connected with the difference of the rate of \nexpansion of water and of steam : but all natural \nphilosophers will, probably, agree, that there must be, \nin this list, a great number of things entirely without \nany mutual dependence, as the year and the day, the \nexpansion of aii\' and the expansion of steam. There \nare, therefore, it appears, a number of things which, in \n\n\n\n124 TERRESTRIAL ADAPTATIONS. \n\nthe structure of the workl, might have been otherwise, \nand which are what they are in consequence of choice \nor of chance. We have already seen, in many of the \ncases separately, how unlike chance every thing looks : \n\xe2\x80\x94 that substances, which might have existed any how, \nso far as they themselves are concerned, exist exactly \nin such a manner and measure as they should, to secure \nthe welfare of other things : \xe2\x80\x94 that the laws are tempered \nand fitted together in the only way in vfhich the world \ncould have gone on, according to all that we can \nconceive of it. This must, therefore, be the work of \nchoice ; and if so, it cannot be doubted, of a most wise \nand benevolent Chooser. \n\nIII. The appearance of choice is still further illus- \ntrated by the variety as well as the number of the laws \nselected. The laws are unlike one another. Steam \ncertainly expands at a very different rate from air by \nthe application of heat, probably according to a different \nlaic : water expands in freezing, but mercury contracts : \nheat travels in a manner quite different through solids \nand fluids. Every separate substance has its own \ndensity, gravity, cohesion, elasticity, its relations to \nheat, to electricity, to magnetism ; besides all its \nchemical afi&nities, which form an endless throng of \nlaws, connecting every one substance in creation with \nevery other, and different for each pair anyhow taken. \nNothing can look less like a world formed of atoms \noperating upon each other according to some universal \nand mevitable laws, than this does : if such a system \nof things be conceivable, it cannot be our system. We \nhave, it may be, fifty simple substances in the world ; \n\n\n\nTvECAPITULATION. \n\n\n\n125 \n\n\n\neacli of which is invested with properties, both of \nchemical and mechanical action, altogether different \nfrom those of any other substance. Every portion, \nhowever minute, of any of these, possesses all the \nproperties of the substance. Of each of these sub- \nstances there is a certain unalterable quantity in the \nuniverse ; when combined, theii\' compounds exhibit \nnew chemical affinities, new mechanical laws. Who \ngave these different laws to the different substances ? \nwiio proportioned the quantity of each ? But suppose \nthis done. Suppose these substances in existence ; in \ncontact; in due proportion to each other. Is this a \nworld, or at least our world ? No more than the mine \nand the forest are the ship of war or the factory. These \nelements, with their constitution perfect, and their \nproportion suitable, are still a mere chaos. They must \nbe put in their places. The}^ must not be where their \nown properties would place them. They must be made \nto assume a particular arrangement, or we can have no \nregular and permanent course of nature. This arrange- \nment must again have additional peculiarities, or we \ncan have no organic portion of the world. The millions \nof millions of particles which the world contains, must \nbe finished up in as complete a manner, and fitted into \ntheir places with as much nicety, as the most delicate \nwheel or spring in a piece of human machinery. What \nare the habits of thought to which it can appear \npossible that this could take place without design, \nintention, intelligence, purpose, knowledge ? \n\nIn what has just been said, we have spoken only of \nthe constitution of the inorganic part of the universe. \n\n\n\n126 \n\n\n\nCOSMICAL AERANGEMENTS. \n\n\n\nThe mechanism, if we may so call it, of vegetable and \nanimal life, is so far beyond our comprehension, that \nthough some of the same observations might be applied \nto it, we do not dvv^ell upon the subject. We know that \nin these processes also, the mechanical and chemical \nproperties of matter are necessary, but we know too \nthat these alone will not account for the phenomena \nof life. There is something more than these. The \nlowest stage of vitality and irritability appears to carry \nus beyond mechanism, beyond chemical pofiinity. All \nthat has been said with regard to the exactness of the \nadjustments, the combination of various means, the \ntendency to continuance, to preservation, is applicable \nwith additional force to the organic creation, so far \nas we can perceive the means employed. These, how- \never, belong to a different province of the subject, and \nmust be left to other hands. \n\n\n\nBOOK II. \n\nCOSMICAL ARRANGEMENTS. \n\nWhen we turn our attention to the larger portions \nof the universe, the sun, the planets, and the earth as \none of them, the moon and other, satelhtes, the fixed \nstars, and other heavenly bodies ; \xe2\x80\x94 the views which we \nobtain concerning their mutual relations, arrangement \nand movements, are called, as we have ah\'eady stated, \ncosmical views. These views will, we conceive, afford \n\n\n\nCOSMICAL ARRANGEMENTS. \n\n\n\n127 \n\n\n\nus indications of the wisdom and care of tiie Power \nby which the objects which we thus consider, were \ncreated and are preserved : and we shall now proceed \nto pomt out some circumstances in which these \nattributes may be traced. \n\nIt has been observed by writers on Natural Theolog}^, \nthat the arguments for the being and perfections of the \nCreator, drawn from cosmical considerations, labour \nunder some disadvantages when compared with the \narguments founded on those provisions and adapta- \ntions which more immediately affect the well being of \norganised creatures. The structure of the solar system \nhas far less analogy with such machinery as we can \nconstruct and comprehend, than we find in the structure \nof the bodies of animals, or even in the causes of the \nweather. Moreover, we do not see the immediate bearing \nof cosmical arrangements on that end which we most \nreadily acknowledge to be useful and desirable, the sup- \nport and comfort of sentient natures : so that, from both \ncauses, the impression of benevolent design in this case \nis less strilving and pointed than that which results \nfrom the examination of some other parts of nature. \n\nBut in considering the universe, according to the \nview we have taken, as a collection of laivs, astronomy, \nthe science which teaches us the laws of the motions \nof the heavenly bodies, possesses some advantages, \namong the subjects from which we may seek to learn \nthe character of the government of the world. For \nour knowledge of the laws of the motions of the planets \nand satellites is far more complete and exact, far more \nthorough and satisfactory, than the Imowledge which \n\n\n\n123 \n\n\n\nCOSMICAL AREAXGEMENTS. \n\n\n\nwe possess in any other department of Natural Philo- \nsopliy. Our acquaintance with the laws of the solar \nsystem is such, that we can calculate the precise place \nand motion of most of its parts at any period, past or \nfuture, however remote ; and we can refer the changes \nwhich take place in these circumstances to their proxi- \nmate cause, the attraction of one mass of matter to \nanother, acting between all the parts of the universe. \n\nIf, therefore, we trace indications of the Divine care, \neither in the form of the laws which prevail among the \nheavenly bodies, or in the arbitrary quantities which \nsuch laws involve ; (according to the distinction \nexj)lained in tlie former part of this work ;) we may \nexpect that our examples of such care, though they may \nbe less numerous and obvious, will be more precise \nthan they can be in other subjects, where the laws of \nfacts are imperfectly known, and their causes entirely \nhid. We trust that this will be found to be the case with \nregard to some of the examples which we shall adduce. \n\nChap. I. \xe2\x80\x94 TJie Structure of the Solar System. \n\nIx the cosmical considerations which we have to \noffer, we shall suppose the general truths concerning \nthe structure of the solar system and of the imiverse, \nwhich have been established by astronomers and \nmathematicians, to be known to the reader. It is not \nnecessary to go into much detail on this subject. The \nfive planets known to the ancients, Mercury, Venus, \nMars, Jupiter, Satm^n, revolve round the sun, at dif- \nferent distances, in orbits nearly circular, and nearly \n\n\n\nSOLAR SYSTmi. \n\n\n\n129 \n\n\n\nin one plane. Between Yenus and Mars, our Eartli, \nherself one of the planets, revolves in lilie manner. \nBeyond Saturn, Uranus has been discovered describing \nan orbit of the same Idnd ; and between Mars and \nJupiter, four smaller bodies perform their revolutions \nin orbits somewhat less regular than the rest. These \nplanets are all nearl}\'- globular, and all revolve upon \ntheir axes. Some of them are accompanied by satel- \nHtes, or attendant bodies wliich revolve about them ; \nand these bodies also have their orbits nearly circular, \nand nearly in the same plane as the others. Saturn\'s \nring is a solitary example, so far as we know, of such \nan appendage to a planet. \n\nThese circular motions of the planets round the \nsun, and of the satellites round their primary planets, \nare all kept going by the attraction of the respective \ncentral bodies, which restrains the corresponding \nrevolving bodies from flying off. It is perhaps not \nver}^ easy to make this operation clear to common \napprehension. We cannot illustrate it by a comparison \nwith any machine of human contrivance and fabrica- \ntion : in such machines everything goes on by contact \nand impulse : pressure, and force of all kinds, is \nexercised and transferred from one x^art to another, b}^ \nmeans of a material connection : by rods, ropes, fluids, \ngases. In the machinery of the universe, there is, so \nfar as we know, no material connexion between the \nparts which act on each other. In the solar system no \npart touches or drives another : all the bodies affect \neach other at a distance, as the magnet affects the \nneedle. The production and regulation of such effects, \n\nK \n\n\n\n130 \n\n\n\nCOSMIC AL ARRANGEMENTS. \n\n\n\nif attempted by onr meclianicians, would reqtdre great \nskill and nicety of adjustment; but our artists have \nnot executed any examples of this sort of macliinery, \nby reference to wliich we can illustrate the arrange- \nments of the solar system. \n\nPerhaps the following comparison may serve to \nexplain the kind of adjustments of which we shall \nhave to speak. If there be a wide shallow round basin \nof smooth marble, and if we take a smooth ball, as a \nbilliard ball or a marble pellet, and throw it along the \nsurface of the mside of the basin, the bail will gene- \nrally make many revolutions round the inside of the \nbowl, gTadually tending to the bottom in its motion. \nThe gradual diminution of the motion, and consequent \ntendency of the ball to the bottom of the bowl, arises \nfrom the friction ; and in order to make the motion \ncorrespond to that wdiich takes place through the \naction of a central force, we must suppose this friction \nto be got rid of. In that case, the ball, once set \na-going, would run round the basin for ever, describing \neither a circle, or various kinds of ovals, according to \nthe way in which it was originally thrown ; whether \nquickly or slowl}\', and whether more or less obliquely \nalong the surface. \n\nSuch a motion would be capable of the same kind of \nvariety, and the same sort of adjustments, as the motion \nof a body revolving about a larger one by means of a \ncentral force. Perhaps the reader may understand \nwhat kind of adjustments these are, by supposing such \na bowl and ball to be used for a game of skill. If the \nobject of the players be to throw the pellet along the \n\n\n\nCIRCULAR ORBITS. \n\n\n\n131 \n\n\n\nsurface of the basin, so that after describing its curved \npath it shaU pass through a small hole in a barrier at \nsome distance from the starting point, it Avill easily be \nunderstood that some nicety in the regulation of the \nforce and dh-ection with which the ball is thrown will \nbe necessary for success. In order to obtain a better \nimage of the solar system, Ave must suppose the basin \nto be very large and the pellet very small. And it will \neasily be understood that as many pellets as there are \nplanets might run round the bowl at the same time \nwith different velocities. Such a contrivance might \nform a jplanetarium in which the mimic planets would \nbe regulated by the laws of motion as the real planets \nare ; instead of being carried by wires and wheels, as \nis done in such machines of the common construction : \nand in this planetarium the tendency of the planets to \nthe sun is replaced by the tendency of the representative \npellets to run down the slope of the bowl. We shall \nrefer again to this basin, thus representing the solar \nsystem with its loose planetary balls. \n\nChap. II, \xe2\x80\x94 The Circular OrUts oftJie Planets round the Sun. \n\nThe orbit which the earth describes round the sun \nis very nearly a circle : the sun is about one-thirtieth \nnearer to us in winter than in summer. This nearly \ncircular form of the orbit, on a little consideration, mil \nappear to be a remarkable circumstance. \n\nSupposmg the attraction of a planet towards the sun \nto exist, if the planet were put in motion in any part of \nthe solar system, it would describe about the sun an \n\nK 2 \n\n\n\n132 \n\n\n\nCOSMICAL AEEANGEMENTS. \n\n\n\norbit of some hind ; it might be a long oval, or a shorter \noval, or an exact circle. But if we suppose the result \nleft to chance, the chances are infinitely against the \nlast-mentioned case. There is but one circle ; there \nare an infinite number of ovals. Any original impulse \nwould give some oval, but only one particular impulse, \ndeterminate in velocity and direction, will give a circle. \nIf we suppose the planet to be originally projected, it \nmust be projected perpendicularly to its distance from \nthe sun, and with a certain precise velocity, in order \nthat the motion may be circular. \n\nIn the basin to which we have compared the solar \nsystem, the adjustment requisite to produce circular \nmotion would require us to project our pellet so that \nafter running half round the surface it should touch a \npoint exactly at an equal distance from the centre, on \nthe other side, passing neither too high nor too low. \nAnd the pellet, it may be observed, should be in size \nonly one ten-thousandth part of the distance from the \ncentre, to make the dimensions correspond with the \ncase of the earth\'s orbit. If the mark were set up \nand hit we should hardly attribute the result to \nchance. \n\nThe earth\'s orbit, however, is not exactly a circle. \nThe mark is not precisely a single point, but is a space \nof the breadth of one-tliirtieth of the distance from the \ncentre. Still this is much too near an agreement with \nthe circle to be considered as the work of chance. The \nchances were great against the ball passing so nearly \nat the same distance, for there were twenty-nine equal \nspaces through which it might have gone, between the \n\n\n\nCIRCULAE CEBITS. \n\n\n\n133 \n\n\n\nmark and the centre, and an indefinite number outside \nthe mark. \n\nBut it is not the earth\'s orbit alone which is nearly \na circle : the rest of the planets also approach very \nnearly to that form : Venus more nearly still than the \nearth : Jupiter, Saturn, and Uranus have a difference \nof about one-tenth, between their greatest and least \ndistances from the sun : Mars has his extreme distances \nin the proportion of five to six nearly ; and Mercmy in \nthe proportion of two to three. The last-mentioned \ncase is a considerable deviation, and two of the small \nplanets which lie between Mars and Jupiter, namely \nJuno and Pallas, exhibit an inequality somewhat greater \nstill ; but the smallness of these bodies, and other \ncircumstances, make it probable that there may be \nparticular causes for the exception in their case. The \norbits of the satellites of the earth, of Jupiter, and of \nSaturn, are also nearly circular. \n\nTaldng the solar system altogether, the regularity of \nits structure is very remarkable. The diagram which \nrepresents the orbits of the planets might have consisted \nof a number of ovals, narrow and wide in all degrees, \nintersecting and interfering with each other in all \ndirections. The diagram does consist, as all who \nhave opened a book of astronomy know, of a set of \nfigures which appear at first sight concentric circles, \nand which are very nearly so ; nowhere approaching \nto any crossing or interfering, except in the case of the \nsmall planets, already noticed as irregular. No one, \nlooking at this common diagram, can believe that the \norbits were made to be so nearly circles by chance ; \n\n\n\n134 \n\n\n\nCOSMICAL ARRANGEMENTS. \n\n\n\nany more than lie can believe that a target, such as \narchers are accustomed to shoot at, was painted in \nconcentric circles by the accidental dashes of a brush \nin the hands of a blind man. \n\nThe regularity, then, of the solar system excludes \nthe notion of accident in the arrangement of the orbits \nof the planets. There must have been an express \nadjustment to produce this circular character of the \norbits. The velocity and direction of the motion of \neach planet must have been subject to some original \nregulation; or, as it is often expressed, the projectile \nforce must have been accommodated to the centripetal \nforce. This once done, the motion of each planet, \ntaken by itself, would go on for ever still retaining its \ncircular character, by the laws of motion. \n\nIf some original cause adjusted the orbits of the \nplanets to their circular form and regular arrangement, \nwe can hardly avoid including in our conception of this \ncause, the intention and will of a Creating Power. We \nshall consider this argument more fully in a succeeding \nchapter ; only observing here, that the presidmg Intel- \nligence which has selected and combined the properties \nof the organic creation, so that they correspond so \nremarkably with the arbitrary quantities of the system \nof the universe, may readily be conceived also to have \nselected the arbitrary velocity and direction of each . \nplanet\'s motion, so that the adjustment should produce \na close approximation to a circular motion. \n\nWe have argued here only from the regularity of the \nsolar S3\'\'stem ; from the selection of the single symme- \ntrical case and the rejection of all the unsymmetrical \n\nJ \n\n\n\nCmCULAE DEBITS. \n\n\n\n135 \n\n\n\ncases. But this subject may be considered in another \npoint of view. The system thus selected is not only \nregular and symmetrical, but also it is, so far as we can \njudge, the only one wdiicli would answer the purpose of \nthe earth, perhaps of the other planets, as the seat of \nanimal and vegetable life. If the earth\'s orbit w^ere \nmore excentric, as it is called, if for instance the \ngxeatest and least distances were as three to one, the \ninequality of heat at two seasons of the year would be \ndestructive to the existing species of hving creatures. \nA circular, or nearly circular, orbit, is the only case in \nw^hich vv^e can have a com\'se of seasons such as we have \nat present, the only case in which the climates of the \nnorthern and southern hemispheres are nearly the \nsame ; and what is more clearly important, the only \ncase in which the character of the seasons would not \nvary from centmy to centmy. For if the excentricity \nof the earth\'s orbit were considerable, the difference of \nheat at different seasons, arising from the different \ndistances of the sun, w^ould be combined with the \ndifference, now the only considerable one, w^hich \ndepends on the position of the earth\'s axis. And as \nby the motion of the ijerilielion, or place of the nearest \ndistance of the earth to the sun, this nearest distance \nwould fall in different ages at different parts of the \nyear, the whole distribution of heat through the year \nwould thus be gradually subverted. The summer and \nwmter of the tropical year, as we have it now, being \ncombined with the heat and cold of the anomalistic \nyear, a period of different length, the difference of the \ntwo seasons might sometimes be neutralised altogether. \n\n\n\n136 \n\n\n\nCOSMICAL ARRANGEMENTS. \n\n\n\nand at other times exaggerated by the accmmilation of \nthe inequalities, so as to be intolerable. \n\nThe circular form of the orbit therefore, which, from \nits unique character, appears to be chosen with some \ndesign, from its effects on the seasons, appears to be \nchosen with this design, so apparent in other parts of \ncreation, of securing the welfare of organic life, by a \nsteadfast and regular order of the solar influence upon \nthe planet. \n\nChap. III. \xe2\x80\x94 The Stcibility of the Solar System. \n\nThere is a consequence resulting from the actual \nstructure of the solar system, which has been brought \nto light by the investigations of mathematicians con- \ncerning the cause and laws of its motions, and which \nhas an important bearing on our argument. It appears \nthat the arrangement which at present obtains is \nprecisely that which is necessary to secure the stability \nof the system. This point we must endeavour to \nexplain. \n\nIf each planet were to revolve round the sun without \nbeing affected by the other planets, there would be a \ncertain degree of regularity in its motion ; and this \nregularity would continue for ever. But it appears, \nby the discovery of the law of universal gravitation, \nthat the planets do not execute their movements in \nthis insulated and independent manner. Each of \nthem is acted on by the attraction of all the rest. The \nearth is constantly drawn by Venus, by Mars, by \nJupiter, bodies of various magnitudes, perpetually \n\n\n\nSTABILITY OF THE SYSTEM. \n\n\n\n137 \n\n\n\nchanging tlieir distances and positions with regard to \nthe earth ; the earth in return is perpetually drawing \nthese bodies. What, in the course of time, will be the \nresult of this mutual attraction ? \n\nAll the planets are very small compared with the \nsun, and therefore the derangement which they pro- \nduce in the motion of one of their number will be very \nsmall in the course of one revolution. But this gives \nus no security that the derangement may not become \nvery large in the course of many revolutions. The \ncause acts perpetually, and it has the whole extent of \ntime to work in. Is it not then easily conceivable that \nin the lapse of ages the derangements of the motions \nof the planets may accumulate, the orbits may change \ntheir form, their mutual distances may be much in- \ncreased or much diminished ? Is it not possible that \nthese changes may go on without limit, and end in the \ncomplete subversion and ruin of the system ? \n\nIf, for instance, the result of this mutual gravitation \nshould be to increase considerably the excentricity \nof the earth\'s orbit, that is to make it a longer and \nlonger oval ; or to make the moon approach perpetually \nnearer and nearer the earth every revolution ; it is easy \nto see that in the one . case our year would change its \ncharacter, as we have noticed in the last section ; in \nthe other, our satellite might finally fall to the earth, \nwhich must of course bring about a dreadful catas- \ntrophe. If the positions of the planetary orbits, with \nrespect to that of the earth, were to change much, the \nplanets might sometimes come very near us, and \nthus exaggerate the effects of their attraction beyond \n\n\n\n138 \n\n\n\nCOSMICAL ARRANGEMENTS. \n\n\n\ncalculable limits. Under such cii\'cumstances, we might \nhave " years of unequal length, and seasons of capri- \ncious temperature, planets and moons of portentous \nsize and aspect, glaring and disappearing at uncertain \nintervals ; " tides lilve deluges, sweeping over whole \ncontinents ; and, perhaps, the collision of two of \nthe planets, and the consequent destruction of all \norganisation on both of them. \n\nNor is it, on a common examination of the history \nof the solar system, at all clear that there is no ten- \ndency to indefinite derangement. The fact really is, \nthat changes are taking place in the motions of the \nheavenly bodies, which have gone on progressively from \nthe first dawn of science. The excentricity of the \nearth\'s orbit has been diminishing from the earliest \nobservations to our times. The moon has been moving \nquicker and quicker from the time of the first recorded \nechpses, and is now in advance, b}\'\' about four times \nher own breadth, of what her place would have been if it \nhad not been affected by this acceleration. The obli- \nquity of the echptic also is in a state of diminution, \nand is now about two-fifths of a degree less than it \nwas in the time of Aristotle. Will these changes go on \nwithout limit or reaction ? If so, we tend by natural \ncauses to a termination of the present system of \nthings : if not, by what adjustment or combination \nare we secured from such a tendency ? Is the system \nstable, and if so, what is the condition on which stability \ndepends ? \n\nTo answer these questions is far from easy. The \nmechanical problem which they involve is no less than \n\n\n\nSTABILITY OP THE SYSTEM. \n\n\n\n139 \n\n\n\nthis ; \xe2\x80\x94 Having given the directions and velocities with \nwhich about thirty bodies are mo\\dng at one time, to \nfind theii\' places and motions after any number of ages; \neach of the bodies, all the while, attracting all the others, \nand being attracted by them all. \n\nIt may readily be imagined that this is a problem of \nextreme complexity, when it is considered that every \nnew configuration or arrangement of the bodies will \ngive rise to a new amount of action on each ; and every \nnew action to a new configuration. Accordingly, the \nmathematical investigation of such questions as the \nabove was too difficult to be attempted in the earlier \nperiods of the progress of Physical Astronomy. Newton \ndid not undertake to demonstrate either the stability \nor the instability of the system. The decision of this \npoint required a greater number of preparatory steps \nand simplifications, and such progress in the invention \nand improvement of mathematical methods, as occupied \nthe best mathematicians of Europe for the greater \npart of last century. But, towards the end of that \ntime, it was shown by Lagrange and Laplace that the \narrangements of the solar system are stable : that in \nthe long run the orbits and motions remain unchanged; \nand that the changes in the orbits, which take place in \nshorter periods, never transgress certain very moderate \nlimits. Each orbit midergoes deviations on this side \nand on that of its average state ; but these deviations \nare never very great, and it finally recovers from them, \nso that the average is preserved. The planets produce \nperpetual pertm^bations in each other\'s motions, but \nthese perturbations are not indefinitely progressive, \n\n\n\n140 \n\n\n\nCOSMICAL ARRANGEMENTS . \n\n\n\nthey are periodical : tliey reach a maximum value and \nthen diminish. The periods which this restoration \nrequires are, for the most part, enormous ; not less \nthan thousands, and, in some instances, millions of \nyears ; and hence it is, that some of these apparent \nderangements have heen going on in the same direction \nsmce the beginning of the history of the world. But \nthe restoration is in the sequel as complete as the \nderangement ; and in the mean time the disturbance \nnever attains a sufficient amount seriously to alter the \nadaptations of the system."\'^ \n\nThe same examination of the subject by which this \nis proved points out also the conditions on which this \nstability depends. " I have succeeded in demon- \nstrating," says Laplace, "that whatever be the masses \nof the planets, in consequence of the fact that they all \nmove in the same direction, in orbits of small excen- \ntricitj^, and shghtly inchned to each other \xe2\x80\x94 their \nsecular inequalities are periodical and included within \nnarrow limits ; so that the planetary system will only \noscillate about a mean state, and will never deviate \nfrom it except by a very small quantity. The ellipses \nof the planets have been, and always will be, nearly \ncircular. The ecliptic will never coincide Avith the \nequator, and the entire extent of the variation in its \ninclination cannot exceed three degrees." \n\nThere exists, therefore, it appears, in the solar \nsystem, a provision for the permanent regularity of its \nmotions ; and this provision is found in the fact that \nthe orbits of the planets are nearly circular, and nearly \n\n* Laplace, Expos, du Syst. du Monde, p. 441. \n\n\n\nSTABILITY OF THE SYSTEM. \n\n\n\n141 \n\n\n\nin the same j^lane, and the motions all in the same \ndirection, namely, from west to east * \n\nNow is it probable that the occurrence of these con- \nditions of stability in the disposition of the solar \nsystem is the work of chance ? Such a supposition \nappears to be quite inadmissible. Any one of the \norbits might have had any excentricity.f In that of \nMercury, where it is much the greatest, it is only one- \nfifth. How came it to pass that the orbits were not \nmore elongated ? A little more or a little less velocity \nin their original motions would have made them so. \nThey might have had any mchnation to the ecHptic \n\n* In this statement of Laplace, however, one remarkable provision \nfor the stability of the system is not noticed. The planets Mercuiy \nand Mars, which have much the largest excentricities among the old \nplanets, are those of which the masses are much the smallest. The \nmass of Jupiter is more than 2000 times that of either of these planets. \nIf the orbit of Jupiter were as excentric as that of Mercury is, all the \nsecurity for the stability of the system, which analysis has yet pointed \nout, would disappear. The earth and the smaller planets might in \nthat case change their approximately circular orbits into very long \nellipses, and thus might fall into the sun, or fly off into remote space. \n\nIt is further remarkable, that in the newly-discovered planets, of \nwhich the orbits are still more excentric ^than that of Mercury, the \nmasses are still smaller, so that the same provision is established in \nthis case also. It does not appear that any mathematician has even \nattempted to point out a necessaiy connexion between the mass of a \nplanet and excentricity of its orbit on any hypothesis. May we not \nthen consider this combination of small masses with large excentricities, \nso important to the pm\'poses of the world, as a mark of provident care \nin the Creator 1 \n\n+ The excentricity of a planet\'s orbit is measured by taking the pro- \nportion of the difference of the greatest and least distances from the \nsun, to the sum of the same distances. Mercury\'s greatest and least \ndistances are as 2 and 3 ; his excentricity therefore is one-fifth. \n\n\n\n142 \n\n\n\nCOSMICAL ARRANGEMENTS. \n\n\n\nfrom no degrees to ninety degrees. Mercury, which \nagain deviates most widety, is inclined 7f degrees, \nVenus 3j, Saturn 2f , Jupiter Ij, Mars 3. How came \nit that their motions are thus contained within such a \nnarrow strip of the sky ? One, or an}^ number of them, \nmight have moved from east to west : none of them \ndoes so. And these circumstances, which appear to \nbe, each in particular, requisite for the stability of the \nsystem and the smallness of its disturbances, are all \nfomid in combination. Does not this imply both clear \npurpose and profound skill ? \n\nIt is difficult to convey an adequate notion of the \nextreme complexity of the task thus executed. A \nnumber of bodies, all attracting each other, are to be \nprojected in such a manner tliat their revolutions \nshall be permanent and stable, their mutual pertur- \nbations always small. If we return to the basin mth \nits rolling balls, by which we before represented the \nsolar system, we must complicate with new conditions \nthe trial of skill which we supposed. The problem \nmust now be to project at once seven such balls, all \nconnected by strmgs which influence their movements, \nso that each may hit its respective mark. And we \nmust further suppose that the marks are to be hit \nafter many thousand revolutions of the balls. No one \nwill imagine that this could be done by accident. \n\nIn fact it is allowed by all those who have considered \nthis subject, that such a coincidence of the existing \nstate with the mechanical requisites of permanency \ncaimot be accidental, Laplace has attempted to calcu- \nlate the probability that it is not the result of accident. \n\n\n\nSTABILITY OF THE SYSTEM. \n\n\n\n143 \n\n\n\nHe takes into account, in addition to tlie motions which \nwe have mentioned, the revolutions of the satellites \nahoiit their primaries, and of the smi and planets about \ntheir axes : and he finds that there is a probability, far \nhigher than that which we have for the greater part of \nundoubted historical events, that these appearances are \nnot the effect of chance. " We ought therefore," he \nsays, \'\'to believe, with at least the same confidence, \nthat a primitive cause has directed the planetary \nmotions." \n\nThe solar system is thus, by the confession of all \nsides, completely different from anything which we \nmight anticipate from the casual operation of its known \nlaws. The laws of motion are no less obeyed to the \nletter in the most irregular that in the most regular \nmotions ; no less in the varied circuit of the ball which \nflies round a tennis court, than in the going of a clock; \nno less in the fantastical jets and leaps which breakers \nmake when they burst in a corner of a rocky shore, \nthan in the steady swell of the open sea. The laws of \nmotion alone will not produce the regularity which we \nadmire in the motions of the heavenly bodies. There \nmust be an original adjustment of the system on which \nthese laws are to act ; a selection of the arbitrary \nquantities which they are to involve ; a primitive cause \nwhich shall dispose the elements in due relation to \neach other ; in order that regular recurrence may \naccompany constant change ; that perpetual motion \nmay be combined with perpetual lability; that derange- \nments which go on increasing for thousands or for \nmillions of years may finally cure themselves ; and that \n\n\n\n144 \n\n\n\nCOSMICAL AERANGEMEKTS. \n\n\n\nthe same laws which lead the planets slightly aside \nfrom their paths, may narrowly limit their deviations, \nand bring them back from their almost imperceptible \nwanderings. \n\nIf a man does not deny that any possible peculiarity \nin the disposition of the planets with regard to the sun \ncould afford evidence of a controlling and ordering \npurpose, it seems difficult to imagine how he could \nlook for evidence stronger than that which there actually \nis. Of all the innumerable possible cases of systems, \ngoverned by the existing laws of force and motion, that \none is selected which alone j)i^oduces such a steadfast \nperiodicity, such a constant average of circumstances, \nas are, so far as we can conceive, necessary conditions \nfor the existence of organic and sentient life. And \nthis selection is so far from being an obvious or easily \ndiscovered means to this end, that the most profound \nand attentive consideration of the properties of space \nand number, with all the api3liances and aids we can \nobtain, are barely sufficient to enable us to see that the \nend is thus secured, and that it can be secured in no \nother way. Surely the obvious impression which arises \nfrom this view of the subject is, that the solar system, \nwith its adjustments, is the work of an Intelhgence, \nwho perceives, as self-evident, those truths, to which \nwe attain painfully and slowly, and after all imperfectly ; \nwho has employed in every part of creation refined \ncontrivances, which we can only with effort understand; \nand who, in innumerable instances, exhibits to us \nwhat we should look upon as remarkable difficulties \nremarkably overcome, if it were not that, through the \n\n\n\nTHE SUN IN THE CENTRE. 145 \n\nperfection of the provision, the trace of the difficulty is \nahnost obliterated. \n\nChap. IV. \xe2\x80\x94 The Sun in the Centre. \n\nThe next circumstance which we shall notice as \nindicative of design in the arrangement of the material \nportions of the solar system, is the position of the sun, \nthe source of light and heat, in the centre of the \nsystem. This could hardly have occurred by any thing \nwhich we can call chance. Let it be granted, that the \nlaw of gravitation is established, and that we have a \nlarge mass, with others much smaller in its comparative \nvicinity. The small bodies may then move round the \nlarger, but this will do nothing towards making it a sun \nto them. Their motions might take place, the whole \nsystem remaining still utterly dark and cold, without \nday or summer. In order that we may have sometliing \nmore than this blank and dead assemblage of moving \nclods, the machine must be lighted up and warmed. \nSome of the advantages of placing the lighting and \nwarming apparatus in the centre are obvious to us. It \nis in this way only that we could have those regular \nperiodical returns of solar influence, which, as we have \nseen, are adapted to the constitution of the living \ncreation. And we can easily conceive, that there may \nbe other incongruities in a sj^stem with a travelling \nsun, of which we can only conjecture the nature. No \none probably will doubt that the existing system, with \nthe sun in the centre, is better than any one of a \ndifferent kind would be. \n\nL \n\n\n\n146 \n\n\n\nCOSMICAL ARRANGEMENTS. \n\n\n\nNow tliis lighting and warming by a central sun are \nsomething superadded to the mere mechanical arrange- \nments of the universe. There is no apparent reason \nwhy the largest mass of gravitating matter should \ndiffuse inexhaustible supplies of light and heat in all \ndirections, while the other masses are merely passive \nwith respect to such influences. There is no obvious \nconnexion between mass and luminousness, or tem- \nperature. No one, probably, will contend that the \nmaterials of our system are necessarily luminous or hot. \nAccording to the conjectures of astronomers, the heat \nand light of the sun do not reside m its mass, but in a \ncoating which lies on its sm^face. If such a coating \nwere fixed there by the force of universal gravitation, \nhow could we avoid having a similar coating on the \nsurface of the earth, and of all the other globes of the \nsystem ? If light consists m the vibrations of an ether, \nwhich we have mentioned as a probable opinion, why \nhas the sun alone the power of exciting such vibrations ? \nIf light be the emission of material particles, why does \nthe sun alone emit such particles? Similar questions \nmay be asked, with regard to heat, whatever be the \ntheory we adopt on that subject. Here then we appear \nto find marks of contrivance. The sun might become, \nwe vdU suppose, the centre of the motions of the \nplanets by mere mechanical causes : but what caused \nthe centre of their motions to be also the source of \nthose vivifjing influences ? Allowing that no inter- \nposition was requisite to regulate the revolutions of the \nsystem, yet observe what a pecuhar arrangement in \nother respects was necessary, in order that these \n\n\n\nTHE SUN IN THE CENTEE. \n\n\n\n147 \n\n\n\nrevolutions migiit produce days and seasons ! The \nmachine will move of itself, we may grant : but who \nconstructed the machine, so that its movements might \nanswer the purposes of life ? How was the candle \nplaced upon the candlestick ? how was the fire deposited \non the hearth, so that the comfort and well-being of \nthe family might be secured ? Did these too fall into \ntheir places by the casual operation of gravity ? and, if \nnot, is there not here a clear evidence of intelhgent \ndesign, of arrangement with a benevolent end ? \n\nThis argument is urged with great force by Newton \nhimself. In his first letter to Bentley, he allows that \nmatter might form itself into masses by the force of \nattraction. " And thus," says he, " might the sun and \nfixed stars be formed, supposing the matter were of a \nlucid nature. But how the matter should divide itself \ninto two sorts ; and that part of it which is fit to \ncompose a shining body should fall down into one mass, \nand make a sun ; and the rest, which is fit to compose \nan opaque body, should coalesce, not into one great \nbody, like the shining matter, but into many little \nones ; or if the sun at first were an opaque body like the \nplanets, or the planets lucid bodies like the sun, how \nhe alone should be changed into a shining body, whilst \nall they continue opaque ; or all they be changed into \nopaque ones, while he continued unchanged : I do not \nthink explicable by mere natural causes, but am forced \nto ascribe it to the counsel and contrivance of a \nvoluntary Agent." \n\nL 2 \n\n\n\n148 \n\n\n\nCOSMICxlL AEEANGEMENTS. \n\n\n\nChap. Y.\xe2\x80\x94Thc Satellites. \n\nI. A PERSON of ordinary feelings, wlio, on a fine \nmoonlight night, sees our satellite pouring her mild \nradiance on field and town, path and moor, will \nprobably not only be disposed to "bless the useful \nlight,\'\' but also to believe that it was "ordained" for. \nthat purpose ; \xe2\x80\x94 that the lesser light was made to rule \nthe night as certainly as the greater light was made to \nrule the da}^ \n\nLaplace, however, does not assent to this belief. He \nobserves, that " some partisans of final causes have \nimagined that the moon was given to the earth to afford \nlight during the night : " but he remarks that this \ncannot be so, for that we are often deprived at the same \ntime of the light of the sun and the moon; and he \npoints out how the moon might have been placed so as \nto be always " full." \n\nThat the light of the moon affords, to a certain \nextent, a supplement to the light of the sun, will \nhardly be denied. If we take man in a condition in \nwhich he uses artificial light scantily only, or not at all, \nthere can be no doubt that the moonlight nights are for \nhim a very important addition to the time of daylight. \nAnd as a small proportion only of the whole number of \nnights are without some portion of moonlight, the fact \nthat sometimes both luminaries are invisible very little \ndiminishes the value of this advantage. Why we have \nnot more moonlight, either in duration or in quantity, \nis an inquiry which a philosopher could hardly be \n\n\n\nTHE SATELLITES. \n\n\n\n149 \n\n\n\ntempted to enter upon, by any success which has \nattended previous speculations of a similar nature. \nWhy should not the moon be ten times as large as \nshe is ? Why should not the |)npil of man\'s eye be \nten times as large as it is, so as to receive more of the \nlight which does arrive ? We do not conceive that our \ninability to answer the latter question prevents our \nknowing that the eye was made for seeing : nor does our \ninability to answer the former, disturb our persuasion \nthat the moon was made to give light upon the earth. \n\nLaplace suggests that if the moon had been placed \nat a certain distance beyond the earth, it would have \nrevolved about the sun in the same time as the earth \ndoes, and would have always presented to us a full \nmoon. For this purpose it must have been about four \ntimes as far from us as it really is ; and would therefore, \nother things remaining unchanged, have only been one \nsixteenth as large to the eye as our present full moon. \nWe shall not dwell on the discussion of this suggestion, \nfor the reason just intimated. But we may observe \nthat in such a system as Laplace proposes, it is not yet \nproved, we believe, that the arrangement would be \nstable, under the influence of the disturbing forces. \nAnd we may add that such an arrangement, in which \nthe motion of one bod}^ has a co-ordinate reference to \ntwo others, as the motion of the moon on this hypothesis \nwould have to tlie sun and the earth, neither motion \nbeing subordinate to the otlier, is contrary to the \nwhole known analogy of cosmical phenomena, and \ntherefore has no claim to our notice as a subject of \ndiscussion. \n\n\n\n150 \n\n\n\nCOSMICAL ARRANGEMENTS. \n\n\n\nII. In turning our consideration to the satellites of \nthe other planets of our system, there is one fact which \nimmediately arrests our attention ; \xe2\x80\x94 the number of \nsuch attendant bodies ajipears to increase as we proceed \nto planets farther and farther from the sun. Such at \nleast is the general rule. Mercury and Venus, the \nplanets nearest the sun, have no such attendants, the \nearth] has one. Mars, indeed, who is still farther \nremoved, has none ; nor have the minor planets, Juno, \nVesta, Ceres, Pallas ; so that the rule is only approxi- \nmatel}^ verified. But Jupiter, who is at live times the \nearth\'s distance, has four satellites ; and Saturn, who \nis again at a distance nearly twice as great, has seven, \nbesides that most extraordinary phenomenon, his ring, \nwhich, for purposes of illumination, is equivalent to \nmanj^ thousand satelHtes. Of Uranus it is difficult to \nspeak, for his great distance renders it almost impos- \nsible to observe the smaller circumstances of his \ncondition. It does not appear at all probable that \nhe has a ring, like Saturn; but he has at least five \nsatellites which are visible to us, at the enormous \ndistance of 900 millions of miles ; and we believe that \nthe astronomer will hardly deny that he may possibly \nhave thousands of smaller ones circulating about him. \n\nBut leaving conjecture, and taking only the ascer- \ntained cases of Venus, the earth, Jupiter, and Saturn, \nwe conceive that a person of common understanding \nwill be strongly impressed with the persuasion that the \nsatellites are placed in the system with a view to \ncompensate for the diminished light of the sun at \ngTeater distances. The smaller planets, Juno, Vesta, \n\n\n\nSTABILITY OF THE OCEAN. \n\n\n\n151 \n\n\n\nCeres, and PaUas, differ from tlie rest in so many \nwa3^s, and suggest so maiij conjectures of reasons for \nsuch differences, that we should ahnost expect to find \nthem exceptions to such a rule. Mars is a more \nobvious exception. Some persons might conjecture \nfrom this case, that the arrangement itself, like other \nuseful arrangements, has been brought about by some \nwider law which we have not yet detected. But whether \nor not we entertain such a guess, (it can be nothing \nmore,) we see in other parts of creation so many \nexamples of apparent exceptions to rules, which are \nafterwards found to be capable of explanation, or to \nbe provided for by particular contrivances, that no one, \nfamiliar v/ith such contemplations, will, by one anomaly, \nbe driven from the persuasion that the end which the \narrangements of the satellites seem suited to answer is \nreally one of the ends of their creation. \n\n\n\nChap. VI. \xe2\x80\x94 The Stability of the Ocean. \n\nWhat is meant by the stability of the ocean may \nperhaps be explained by means of the following illus- \ntration. If we suppose the whole globe of the earth \nto be composed of water, a sphere of cork immersed in \nany part of it would come to the surface of the water, \nexcept it were placed exactly at the centre of the earth; \nand even if it were so placed, the shghtest displacement \nof the cork sphere would end in its rising and floating. \nThis would be the case whatever were the size of the \ncork sphere, and even if it were so large as to leave \ncomparatively little room for the water ; and the result \n\n\n\n132 \n\n\n\nCOSMIC AL ARRANGEMENTS. \n\n\n\nwould be nearly the same, if tlie cork spliere, when in \nits central position, had on its surface prominences \nwhich projected above the surface of the water. Now \nthis brings us to the case in which we have a globe \nresembhng our present earth, composed like it of water \nand of a solid centre, with islands and continents, but \nhaving these solid parts all made of cork. And it \nappears by the preceding reasoning, that in this case, \nif there were to be any disturbance either of the solid \nor fluid parts, the solid parts would rise from the \ncentre of the watery sphere as far as they could : that \nis, all the water would run to one side and leave the \nland on the other. Such an ocean would be in unstable \nequihbrium. \n\nNow a question naturally occurs, is the equilibrium \nof our present ocean of this unstable land, or is it \nstable ? The sea, after its most violent agitations, \nappears to return to its former state of repose ; but \nmay not some extraordinary cause produce in it some \nderangement which may go on increasing till the waters \nall rush one way, and thus drown the highest moun- \ntains ? And if we are safe from this danger, what are \nthe conditions by which we are so secm^ed ? \n\nThe illustration which we have employed obviously \nsuggests the answer to this question ; namely, that the \nequilibrium is unstable, so long as the solid parts are \nof such a kind as to float in the fluid parts ; and of \ncourse we should expect that the equilibrium will be \nstable whenever the contrary is the case, that is, when \nthe solid parts of the earth are of greater specific \ngravity than the sea. A more systematic mathematical \n\n\n\nSTABILITY OF THE OCEAN. \n\n\n\n153 \n\n\n\ncalculation has conducted Laplace to a demonstration \nof tliis result. \n\nThe mean specific gravity of the earth appears to he \nahout five times that of water, so that the condition of \nthe stahility of the ocean is abundantly fulfilled. And \nthe provision by which this stability is secured was put \nin force through the action of those causes, whatever \nthey were, which made the density of the solid materials \nand central parts of the earth greater than the density \nof the incumbent fluid. \n\nWhen we consider, however, the manner in which \nthe wisdom of the Creator, even in those cases in wliich \nhis care is most apparent, as in the structure of \nanimals, works by means of intermediate causes and \ngeneral laws, we shall not be ready to reject all belief \nof an end in such a case as this, merety because the \nmeans are mechanical agencies. Laplace says, "In \nvirtue of gravity, the most dense of the strata of the \nearth are those nearest to the centre ; and thus the \nmean density exceeds that of the waters which cover \nit ; which suffices to secure the stabilit}^ of the equi- \nlibrium of the seas, and to put a bridle upon the fury \nof the waves." This statement, if exact, would not \nprove that He who subjected the materials of the earth \nto the action of gravity did not intend to restrain the \nrage of the waters : but the statement is not true in \nfact. The lower strata, so far as man has yet examined, \nare very far from being constantly, or even generally, \nheavier than the superincumbent ones. And certainly \nsolidification by no means implies a greater density \nthan fluidity : the density of Jupiter is one fourth, that \n\n\n\n154 \n\n\n\nCOSMICAL AEEATsGEMENTS. \n\n\n\nof Saturn less than one seventh, of that of the earth. \nIf an ocean of water were poured into the cavities upon \nthe surface of Saturn, its equilihrium would not be \nstable. It would leave its bed on one side of the \nglobe ; and the planet would finally be composed of \none hemisphere of water and one of land. If the \nearth had an ocean of a fluid six times as heavy as \nwater, (quicksilver is thirteen times as heavy,) we \nshould have, in lil^e manner, a dry and a fluid hemi- \nST)here. Our inland rivers would probably never be \nable to reach the shores, but would be dried up on their \nwa}^, like those which run in torrid deserts ; perhaps \nthe evaporation from the ocean would never reach the \ninland mountains, and we should have no rivers at all. \nWithout attempting to imagine the details of such a \ncondition, it is easy to see, that to secure the existence \nof a different one is an end which is in harmony with \nall that we see of the preserving care displayed in the \nrest of creation.* \n\nCHAr. YIL\xe2\x80\x94 The Nebular Hypothesis. \n\nWe have referred to Laplace, as a profound mathe- \nmatician, who has strongly expressed the opinion, that \n\n* The stability of the axis of rotation about which the earth revolves \nhas sometimes been adduced as an instance of preservative care. The \nstability, however, would follow necessarily, if the earth, or its super- \nficial parts, were originally fluid ; and that they were so is an opinion \nwidely received, both among astronomers and geologists. The original \nfluidity of the earth is probably a circumstance depending upon the \ngeneral scheme of creation ; and cannot with propriety be considered \nwith reference to one particular result. "We shall therefore omit any \nfurther consideration of this argument. \n\n\n\nNEBULAE HYPOTHESIS. \n\n\n\n155 \n\n\n\nthe arrangement by which the stabihty of the solar \nsystem is secured is not the result of chance ; that \n" a primitive cause has directed the planetary motions." \nThis author, however, having arrived, as we have \ndone, at this conviction, does not draw from it the \nconclusion which has appeared to us so irresistible, \nthat " the admirable arrangement of the solar system \ncannot but be the work of an intelligent, and most \npowerful Being." He quotes these expressions, which \nare those of Newton, and points at them as instances \nwhere that gTeat philosopher had deviated from the \nmethod of true philosophy. He himself proposes an \nhypothesis concerning the nature of the primitive cause \nof which he conceives the existence to be thus pro- \nbable : and this hypothesis, on account of the facts \nwhich it attem]3ts to combine, the view of the universe \nwhich it presents, and the eminence of the person by \nwhom it is propounded, deserves our notice. \n\nI. Laplace conjectures that in the original condition \nof the solar system, the sun revolved upon his axis, \nsurrounded by an atmosphere which, in virtue of an \nexcessive heat, extended far beyond the orbits of all \nthe planets, the planets as yet having no existence. \nThe heat gradually diminished, and as the solar \natmosphere contracted by cooling, the raj)idity of its \nrotation increased by the laws of rotatory motion, and \nan exterior zone of vapour was detached from the rest, \nthe central attraction being no longer able to overcome \nthe increased centrifugal force. This zone of vapour \nmight in some cases retain its form, as we see it in \nSaturn\'s ring; but more usually the ring of vapour \n\n\n\n156 \n\n\n\nCOSMICAL ARRANGEMENTS. \n\n\n\nwould break into several masses, and these would \ngenerally coalesce into one mass, which would revolve \nabout the sun. Such portions of the solar atmosphere, \nabandoned successively at different distances, would \nform " planets in the state of vapour." These masses \nof vapour, it appears from mechanical considerations, \nwould have each its rotatory motion, and as the cooling \nof the vapour still went on, would each produce a \nplanet, which might have satellites and rings, formed \nfrom the planet in the same manner as the planets \nwere formed from the atmosphere of the sun. \n\nIt may easily be conceived that all the primary \nmotions of a system so i^roduced would be nearly \ncircular, nearly in the plane of the original equator of \nthe solar rotation, and in the direction of that rotation. \nReasons are offered also to show that the motions of \nthe satelhtes thus produced and the motions of rotation \nof the planets must be in the same direction. And \nthus it is held that the hypothesis accounts for the \nmost remarkable circumstances in the structure of the \nsolar system : namely, the motions of the planets in \nthe same direction, and almost in the same -plane ; the \nmotions of the satelhtes in the same direction as \nthose of the planets ; the motions of rotation of these \ndifferent bodies still in the same direction as the other \nmotions, and in planes not much different; the small \nexcentricity of the orbits of the planets, upon which \ncondition, along with some of the preceding ones, the \nstability of the system depends ; and the position of \nthe source of light and heat in the centre of the \nsystem. \n\n\n\nNEBULAE HYPOTHESIS. \n\n\n\n157 \n\n\n\nIt is not necessary for the purpose, nor suitable to \nthe plan of the present treatise, to examine, on physical \ngrounds, the probability of the above hj^pothesis. It \nis proposed by its author, with great diffidence, as a \nconjecture only. We might, therefore, very reasonably \nput off all discussion of the bearings of this opinion \nupon our views of the government of the world, till the \nopinion itself should have assumed a less indistinct \nand precarious form. It can be no charge against our \ndoctrines, that there is a difficulty in reconciling with \nthem arbitrar}^ guesses and half-formed theories. We \nshall, however, make a few observations upon this \nnebular hypothesis, as it may be termed. \n\nII. If we grant, for a moment, the hypothesis, it by \nno means proves that the solar system was formed \nwithout the intervention of intelligence and design. \nIt only transfers our view of the skill exercised, and \nthe means employed, to another part of the Avork. \nFor, how came the sun and its atmosphere to have \nsuch materials, such motions, such a constitution, that \nthese consequences followed from their primordial \ncondition ? How came the parent vapour thus to be \ncapable of coherence, separation, contraction, solidifi- \ncation ? How came the laws of its motion, attraction, \nrepulsion, condensation, to be so fixed, as to lead to a \nbeautiful and harmonious system in the end? How \ncame it to be neither too fluid nor too tenacious, to \ncontract neither too quickly nor too slowly, for the \nsuccessive formation of the several planetary bodies ? \nHow came that substance, which at one time was a \nluminous vapour, to be, at a subsequent period, solids \n\n\n\n158 \n\n\n\nCOSMICAL AREANGEMENTS. \n\n\n\nand fluids of many various lands ? What but design \nand intelligence prepared and tempered this previously \nexisting element, so that it should by its natural \nchanges produce such an orderly system ? \n\nAnd if in this way we suppose a planet to be pro- \nduced, what sort of a body would it be ? \xe2\x80\x94 something, \nit may be presumed, resembUng a large meteoric stone. \nHow comes this mass to be covered with motion and \norganisation, with life and happiness ? "What primitive \ncause stocked it with plants and animals, and produced \nall the wonderful and subtle contrivances which we \nfind in their structure, all the wide and profound \nmutual dependences which we trace in their economy ? \nWas man, with his thought and feeling, his powers \nand hopes, his will and conscience, also produced as \nan ultimate result of the condensation of the solar \natmosphere ? Except we allow a prior purpose and \nintelligence presiding over this material "primitive \ncause," how ii\'reconcilable is it with the evidence which \ncrowds in upon us on every side ! \n\nIII. In the next place we may observe concerning this \nhjrpothesis, that it carries us back to the beginning of \nthe present system of things ; but that it is impossible \nfor our reason to stop at the point thus j^resented \nto it. The sun, the earth, the planets, the moons, \nwere brought into their present order out of a previous \nstate, and, as is supposed in the theory, by the natural \noperation of laws. But how came that previous state \nto exist? We are compelled to suppose that it, in \nlike manner, was educed from a still prior state of \nthings ; and this, again, must have been the result of a \n\n\n\nISiEBTJLAE HYPOTHESIS. \n\n\n\n159 \n\n\n\ncondition prior still. Nor is it possible for ns to find, \nin the tenets of the nebular hypothesis, any resting- \nplace or satisfaction for the mind. The same reasoning \nfaculty, which seeks for the origin of the present \nsystem of things, and is capable of assenting to, or \ndissenting from, the hypothesis propounded by Laplace \nas an answer to this inquiry, is necessarily led to seek, \nin the same manner, for the- origin of any previous \nsystem of things^, out of which the present may appear \nto have grown : and must pursue this train of inquiries \nunremittingly, so long as the answer which it receives \ndescribes a mere assemblage of matter and motion; \nsince it would be to contradict the laws of matter and \nthe nature of motion, to suppose such an assemblage \nto be the first condition. \n\nThe reflection just stated, may be illustrated by the \nfurther consideration of the nebular hypothesis. This \nopinion refers us, for the origin of the solar system, to \na sun surrounded with an atmosphere of enormously \nelevated temperature, revolving and cooling. But as \nwe ascend to a still earlier period, what state of things \nare we to suppose ? \xe2\x80\x94 a still liigher temperature, a still \nmore diffused atmosphere. Laplace conceives that, in \nits primitive state, the sun consisted in a diffused \nluminosity, so as to resemble those nebula among the \nfixed stars, which are seen by the aid of the telescope, \nand which exliibit a nucleus, more or less brilliant, \nsurrounded by a cloudy brightness. " This anterior- \nstate was itself preceded by other states, in which the \nnebulous matter was more and more diffused, the \nnucleus being less and less luminous. We arrive," \n\n\n\n160 \n\n\n\nCOSMICAL ARRANGEMENTS. \n\n\n\nLaplace says, "in this manner, at a nebulosity so \ndiffuse, tliat its existence could scarcely be suspected." \n\n" Such is," he adds, " in fact, the first state of the \nnebulae which Herschel carefully observed by means of \nhis powerful telescopes. He traced the progress of con- \ndensation, not indeed on one nebula, for this progress \ncan only become perceptible to us in the course of \ncenturies ; but in the assemblage of nebulae ; much in \nthe same manner as in a large forest we may trace the \ngrowth of trees among the examples of different ages \nwhich stand side by side. He saw, in the first place, \nthe nebulous matter dispersed in patches, in the \ndifferent parts of the sky. He saw in some of these \npatches this matter feebly condensed round one or \nmore faint nuclei. In other nebulae, these nuclei were \nbrighter in proportion to the surrounding nebulosity ; \nwhen by a further condensation the atmosphere of \neach nucleus becomes separate from the others, the \nresult is multiple nebulous stars, formed by brilliant \nnuclei very near each other, and each surrounded by an \natmosphere : sometimes the nebulous matter condens- \ning in a uniform manner has produced nebulous \nsystems which are called planetary. Finally, a still \ngreater degree of condensation transforms all these \nnebulous systems into stars. The nebulae, classed \naccording to this philosophical view, indicate with \nextreme probability their future transformation into \nstars, and the anterior nebulous condition of the stars \nwhich now exist." \n\nIt appears then that the highest point to which this , \nseries of conjectures can conduct us, is an extremely \n\n\n\nNEBULAR HYPOTHESIS. \n\n\n\n161 \n\n\n\ndiffused nebulosity," attended, we may suppose, by a \nfar higher degree of heat, than that which, at a later \nperiod of the hypothetical process, keeps all the mate- \nrials of our earth and planets in a state of vapour. \nNow, is it not impossible to avoid asking, whence was \nthis light, this heat, this diffusion ? How came the \nlaws which such a state implies, to be alread}^ in \nexistence ? Whether light and heat produce their \neffects by means of fluid vehicles or otherwise, they \nhave complex and varied laws which indicate the exis- \ntence of some subtle machinery for their action. When \nand how was this machinery constructed ? Whence, \ntoo, that enormous expansive power which the nebulous \nmatter is supposed to possess ? And if, as would \nseem to be supposed in this doctrine, all the material \ningredients of the earth existed in this diffuse nebu- \nlosity, either in the state of vapour, or in some state of \nstill greater expansion, whence were they and their \nproperties ? how came there to be of each simple \nsubstance which now enters into the composition of \nthe universe, just so much and no more ? Do we not, \nfar more than ever, require an origin of this origin ? \nan explanation of this explanation ? Whatever may \nbe the merits of the opinion as a physical hypothesis, \nwith which we do not here meddle, can it for a moment \nprevent our looking beyond the hypothesis, to a First \nCause, an Intelligent Author, an origin proceeding \nfrom free vohtion, not from material necessity ? \n\nBut again : let us ascend to the highest point of the \nhypothetical progression : let us suppose the nebulosity \ndiffused throughout all space, so that its course of \n\nM \n\n\n\n162 \n\n\n\nCOSMICAL AEEANGEMENTS. \n\n\n\nrunning into patches is not yet begun. How are we \nto suppose it distributed? Is it equably diffused in \nevery part? clearly not; for if it were, what should \ncause it to gather into masses, so various in size, form, \nand arrangement ? The separation of the nebulous \nmatter into distinct nebulse implies necessarily some \noriginal inequality of distribution ; some determining \ncircumstances in its primitive condition. Whence \nwere these circumstances ? this inequality ? we are \nstill compelled to seek some ulterior agency and power. \n\nWhy must the primeval condition be one of change \nat all ? W^hy should not the nebulous matter be \nequably diffused throughout space, and continue for \never in its state of equable diffusion, as it must do, \nfrom the absence of all cause to determme tlie time and \nmanner of its separation ? why should this nebulous \nmatter grow cooler and cooler ? why should it not \nretain for ever the same degree of heat, whatever heat \nbe ? If heat be a fluid ; if to cool be to part with this \nfluid, as many philosophers suppose, what becomes of \nthe fluid heat of the nebulous matter, as the matter \ncools down ? Into what unoccupied region does it find \nits way? \n\nInnumerable questions of the same kind might be \nasked, and the conclusion to be drawn is, that every \nnew physical theory which we include in our view of \nthe universe, involves us in new difficulties and per- \nplexities, if we try to erect it into an ultimate and final \naccount of the existence and arrangement of the world \nin which we live. With the evidence of such theories, \nconsidered as scientific generalisations of ascertained \n\n\n\nNEBULAE HYPOTHESIS. \n\n\n\n163 \n\n\n\nfacts, with their claims to a place in our natural philo- \nsophy, we have here nothing to do. But if they are \nput forwards as a disclosure of the ultimate cause of \nthat which occurs, and as superseding the necessity of \nlooking further or higher ; if they claim a place in our \nNatural Theology, as well as our Natural Philosoi)hy ; \nwe conceive that theii\' pretensions will not bear a \nmoment\'s examination. \n\nLeaving then to other persons and to future ages to \ndecide upon the scientific merits of the nebular hypo- \nthesis, we conceive that the final fate of this opinion \ncannot, in sound reason, affect at all the view which we \nhave been endeavouring to illustrate ; \xe2\x80\x94 the view of the \nuniverse as the work of a wise and good Creator. Let \nit be supposed that the point to which this hypothesis \nleads us, is the ultimate point of physical science : that \nthe farthest glimpse we can obtain of the material \nuniverse by our natural faculties, shows it to us occupied \nby a boundless abyss of luminous matter : still we ask, \nhow space came to be thus occupied ? how matter came \nto be thus lummous ? If we ^ establish by physical \nproofs, that the first fact which can be traced in the \nhistory of the world, is that " there was light ; " we \nshall still be led, even by our natural reason, to suppose \nthat before this could occur, " God said, let there be \n\nlight." \n\n\n\nM 2 \n\n\n\n164 \n\n\n\nCOSMICAL AEEANGEMENTS. \n\n\n\nChap. YUJ\xe2\x80\x94TIie Existence of a Resisting Medium in the \nSolar System. \n\nThe question of a plenum and a vacuum was formerly \nmuch debated among those who speculated concerning \nthe constitution of the universe ; that is, they disputed \nwhether the celestial and terrestrial spaces are abso- \nlutely full, each portion being occupied by some matter \nor other; or whether there are, between and among \nthe material parts of the world, empty spaces free from \nall matter, however rare. This question was often \ntreated by means of abstract conceptions and a \'priori \nreasonings ; and was sometimes considered as one in \nwhich the result of the struggle between rival systems of \nphilosophy, the Cartesian and Newtonian for instance, \nwas involved. It was conceived by some that the \nNewtonian doctrine of the motions of the heavenly \nbodies, according to mechanical laws, required that the \nspace in which they moved should be, absolutely and \nmetaphysically speaking, a vacuum. \n\nThis, however, is not necessary to the truth of the \nNewtonian doctrines, and does not appear to have \nbeen intended to be asserted by Newton himself. \nUndoubtedly, according to his theor}", the motions of \nthe heavenly bodies were calculated on the supposition \nthat they do move in a space void of any resisting \nfluid ; and the comparison of the places so calculated \nwiili the places actually observed (continued for a long \ncourse of years, and tried in innumerable cases), did \nnot show any difference which implied the existence \n\n\n\nRESISTING MEDIUM. \n\n\n\n165 \n\n\n\nof a resisting fluid. Tlie Newtonian, therefore, was \njustified in asserting that either there was no such \nfluid, or that it was so thin and rarefied, that no \nphenomenon yet examined by astronomers was capable \nof betraying its effects. \n\nThis was all that the Newtonian needed or ought to \nmaintain ; for liis philosophy, founded altogether upon \nobservation, had nothing to do with abstract possi- \nbilities and metaphysical necessities. And in the same \nmanner in which observation and calculation thus \nshowed that there could be none but a very rare \nmedium pervading the solar system, it was left open to \nobservation and calculation to prove that there w^as \nsuch a medium, if any facts could be discovered which \noffered suitable evidence. \n\nWithin the last few j^ears, facts have been observed \nwhich show, in the opinion of some of the best mathe- \nmaticians of Em\'ope, that such a very rare medium \ndoes really occupy the si^aces in which the planets \nmove ; and it may be proper and interesting to con- \nsider the bearing of this opinion upon the views and \narguments which we have had here to present. \n\nI. Eeasons might be offered, founded on the universal \ndiffusion of light and on other gTounds, for believing \nthat the planetary spaces cannot be entirely free from \nmatter of some kind ; and wherever matter is, we \nshould expect resistance. But the facts wliich have \nthus led astronomers to the conviction that such a \nresisting medium really exists, are certain ciixum- \nstances occurring in the motion of a body revolvmg \nround the sun, which is now usually called Enckes \n\n\n\n166 \n\n\n\nCOSMIC AL ARRANGEMENTS. \n\n\n\ncomet. This body revolves in a very excentric or \noblong orbit, its greatest or aphelion distance from the \nsun, and its nearest or perihelion distance, being in the \nproportion of more than ten to one. In this respect it \nagrees with other comets; but its time of revolution \nabout the sun is much less than that, of the comets \nwhich have excited most notice ; for while they appear \nonly at long intervals of years, the body of which we \nare now speaking returns to its perihelion every 1208 \ndays, or in about three years and one-third. Another \nobservable cii\'cumstance in this singular body is its \nextreme apparent tenuity : it appears as a loose inde- \nfinitely formed speck of vapour, through which the \nstars are visible Avith no perceptible diminution of \ntheir brightness. This body was first seen by Mechain \nand Messier, in 1786,* but they obtained only two \nobservations, whereas three, at least, are requisite to \ndetermine the path of a heavenly body. Miss Herschel \ndiscovered it again in 1795, and it was observed by \nseveral European astronomers. In 1805 it was again \nseen, and again in 1819. Hitherto it was supposed \nthat the four comets thus observed Avere all different ; \nEncke, however, showed that the observations could \nonly be explained by considering them as retm-ns of \nthe same revolving body; and by doing this, well \nmerited that his name should be associated with the \nsubject of his discovery. The return of this body in \n1822 was calculated beforehand, and observed in New \nSouth Wales, the comet being then in the southern \npart of the heavens ; but on comparing the calculated \n\n* Airy on Encke\'s Comet, p. 1. note. \n\n\n\nIIESISTING 3IEDIU:M. \n\n\n\n167 \n\n\n\nand the observed places, Encke concluded that the \nobservations could not be exactly explained, without \nsupposing a resisting medium. This comet was again \ngenerally observed in Em^ope in 1825 and 1828, and \nthe cii\'cumstances of the last appearance were parti- \ncularly favourable for determining the absolute amount \nof the retardation arising from the medium, which the \nother observations had left undetermined. \n\nThe effect of this retarding influence is, as might be \nsupposed from what has akeady been said, extremely \nslight ; and would probably not have been perceptible \nat all, but for the loose texture, and small quantity of \nmatter, of the revolving hodj. It will easily be con- \nceived that a body which has perhaps no more sohdity \nor coherence than a cloud of dust, or a wreath of smoke, \nwlU have less force to make its way through a fluid \nmedium, however thin, than a more dense and compact \nbody would have. In atmospheric air much rarefied, \na buUet might proceed for miles without losing any of \nits velocity, while such a loose mass as the comet is \nsupposed to be, would lose its projectile motion in the \nspace of a few yards. This consideration wiU account \nfor the circumstance, that the existence of such a \nmedium has been detected by observing the motions of \nEncke\'s comet, though the motions of the heavenly \nbodies previously observed showed no trace of such an \nimpediment. \n\nIt will i^erhaps appear remarkable that a body so \nlight and loose as we have described this comet to be, \nshould revolve about the sun by laws as fixed and \ncertain as those which regulate the motions of those \n\n\n\n168 \n\n\n\nCOSMICAL AERANGEMENTS. \n\n\n\ngreat and solid masses, the Earth and Jupiter. It is, \nhowever, certain from observation, that this comet is \nacted upon by exactly the same force of solar attrac- \ntion as the other bodies of the system ; and not only \nso, but that it also experiences the same kind of dis \xe2\x80\xa2 \nturbing force from the action of the other planets, which \nthey exercise upon each other. The effect of all these \ncauses has been calculated with great care and labour ; \nand the result has been an agreement with observation \nsufficiently close to show that these causes really act, \nbut at the same time a residual phenomenon (as Sir J. \nHerscliel expresses it) has come to light ; and from \nthis has been collected the inference of a resisting \nmedium. \n\nThis medium produces a very small effect upon the \nmotion of the comet, as will easily be supposed from \nwhat has been said. By Encke\'s calculation, it appears \nthat the effect of the resistance, supposing the comet to \nmove in the earth\'s orbit, would be about 1 -850th of \nthe sun\'s force of the body. The effect of such a \nresistance may appear, at first sight, paradoxical; it \nwould be to make the comet move more slowly, but \nperforin its revolutions more quickly. This, however, \nwill perhaps be understood if it be considered that by \nmoving more slowly the comet will be more rapidly \ndraivn towards the centre, and that in tliis way a \nrevolution will be described by a shorter path than it \nwas before. It appears that in getting round the sun, \nthe comet gains more in this way than it loses by the \ndiminution of its velocity. The case is much like that \nof a stone thrown in the air; the stone moves more \n\n\n\nEESISTING MEDIUM. \n\n\n\n169 \n\n\n\nslowly than it would do if there were no air ; but yet it \ncomes to the earth sooner than it would do on that \nsupposition. \n\nIt appears that the effect of the resistance of the \nethereal medium, from the first discovery of the comet \nup to the present time, has been to diminish the time \nof revolution by about two days ; and the comet is ten \ndays in advance of the place which it would have \nreached, if there had been no resistance. \n\nII. The same medium which is thus shown to produce \nan effect upon Encke\'s comet, must also act upon the \nplanets which move through the same spaces. The \neffect upon the planets, however, must be very much \nsmaller than the effect upon the comet, in consequence \nof their greater quantity of matter. \n\nIt is not easy to assign any probable value, or even \nany certain limit, to the effect of the resisting medium \nupon the planets. We are entirely ignorant of the \ncomparative mass of the comet, and of any of the \nplanets ; and hence, cannot make any calculation, \nfounded on such a comparison. Newton has endea- \nvoured to show how small the resistance of the medium \nmust be, if it exists.* The result of his calculation is, \nthat if we take the density of the medium to be that \nwhich our air will have at 200 miles from the earth\'s \nsurface, supposing the law of diminution of density to \ngo on unaltered, and if we suppose Jupiter to move in \nsuch a medium, he would in a million years lose less \nthan a milliontli part of his velocity. If a planet, \nrevolving about the sun, were to lose any portion of its \n\n* Principia, b. iii., prop. x. \n\n\n\n170 \n\n\n\nCOSMICAL ARRANGEMENTS. \n\n\n\nvelocity by the effect of resistance, it would be drawn \nproportionally nearer the sun, the tendency towards \nthe centre being no longer sufficiently counteracted by \nthat centrifugal force which arises from the body\'s \nvelocity. And if the resistance were to continue to \nact, the body would be drawn perpetually nearer and \nnearer to the centre, and would describe its revolutions \nquicker and quicker, till at last it would reach the \ncentral body, and the system would cease to be a \nsystem. \n\nThis result is true, however small be the velocit}\' \nlost by resistance ; the only difference being, that when \nthe resistance is small, the time requisite to extinguish \nthe whole motion will be proportionally longer. In all \ncases the times which come under our consideration in \nproblems of this kind are enormous to common appre- \nhension. Thus Encke\'s comet, according to the results \nof the observations already made, will lose, in ten revo- \nlutions, or thirty-three years, less than 1-lOOOth of its \nvelocity ; and if this law were to continue, the velocity \nwould not be reduced to one -half its present value in \nless than seven thousand revolutions, or twenty-three \nthousand years. If Jupiter were to lose one -millionth \nof liis velocity in a million years (which, as has been \nseen, is far more than can be considered in any wa}^ \nprobable), he would require seventy millions of years to \nlose 1- 1000th of the velocity ; and a period seven \nhundred times as long to reduce the velocity to one- \nhalf. These are periods of time which quite over- \nwhelm the imagination ; and it is not pretended that \nthe calculations are made with any pretensions to \n\n\n\nRESISTING MEDIUM. \n\n\n\n171 \n\n\n\naccuracy. But at the same time it is beyond doubt, \nthat though the intervals of time thus assigned to these \nchanges are highly vague and uncertain, the changes \nthemselves must, sooner or later, take place, in con- \nsequence of the existence of the resisting medium. \nSince there is such a retarding force perpetually acting, \nhowever slight it be, it must in the end destroy all the \ncelestial motions. It may be millions of millions of \nyears before the earth\'s retardation may perceptibly \naffect the apparent motion of the sun ; but still the day \nwill come (if the same Providence which formed the \nsystem, should permit it to continue so long) when this \ncause will entirely change the length of our year and \nthe course of our seasons, and finally stop the earth\'s \nmotion romid the sun altogther. The smalhiess of the \nresistance, however small we choose to suppose it, does \nnot allow us to escape tliis certainty. There is a re- \nsisting medium; and, therefore, the movements of the \nsolar system cannot go on for ever. The moment \nsuch a fluid is ascertained to exist, the eternity of the \nmovements of the planets becomes as impossible as a \nperpetual motion on the earth. \n\nIII. The vast periods which are brought under our \nconsideration in tracing the effects of the resisting \nmedium, harmonise with all that we learn of the con- \nstitution of the universe from other sources. Millions, \nand millions of millions of years are expressions that \nat first sight appear fitted only to overwhelm and \nconfound all our powers of thought : and such numbers \nare no doubt beyond the limits of anything which w^e \ncan distinctly conceive. But our powers of conception \n\n\n\n172 \n\n\n\nCOSMICAL AllRANGEMENTS. \n\n\n\nare suited rather to the wants and uses of common life, \nthan to a complete survey of the universe. It is in no \nway unlikely that the whole duration of the solar system \nshould be a period immeasui\'ably great in our eyes, \nthough demonstrably finite. Such enormous numbers \nhave been brought under our notice by all the advances \nwe have made in our knowledge of nature. The \nsmallness of the objects detected by the microscope \nand of their j)arts ; \xe2\x80\x94 the multitude of the stars which \nthe best telescopes of modern times have discovered in \nthe sky ; \xe2\x80\x94 the dm\'ation assigned to the globe of the \nearth by geological investigation; \xe2\x80\x94 all these results \nrequire for their probable expression, numbers, which, \nso far as we see, are on the same gigantic scale as the \nnumber of years in which the solar system will become \nentirely deranged. Such calculations depend in some \ndegree on om- relation to the vast aggregate of the \nworks of oiu\' Creator; and no person who is accus- \ntomed to meditate on these subjects will be surprised \nthat the numbers which such an occasion requires \nshould oppress our comprehension. No one who has \ndwelt on the thought of a universal Creator and Pre- \nserver, will be surprised to find the conviction forced \nupon the mind of every new train of speculation, that \nviewed in reference to Him, our space is a point, our \ntime a moment, our millions a handful, our permanence \na quick decay. \n\nOur knowledge of the vast periods, both geological \nand astronomical, of w^hicli we have spoken, is most \nslight. It is, in fact, little more than that such periods \nexist ; that the surface of the earth has, at wide intervals \n\n\n\nEESTSTING MEDIUM. \n\n\n\n173 \n\n\n\nof time, undergone great changes in the disposition \nof land and water, and in the forms of animal \nlife; and that the motions of the heavenly bodies \nround the sun are affected, though with inconceivable \nslowness, by a force which must end by deranging them \naltogether. It would, therefore, be rash to endeavour \nto establish any analogy between the periods thus dis- \nclosed ; but we may observe that they agree in this, \nthat they reduce all things to the general rule of finite \nduration. As all the geological states of which we find \nevidence in the present state of the earth have had \ntheir termination, so also the astronomical conditions, \nunder which the revolutions of the earth itself proceed, \ninvolve the necessity of a future cessation of these \nrevolutions. \n\nThe contemplative person may well be struck by \nthis universal law of the creation. We are in the habit \nsometimes of contrasting the transient destmy of man \nwith the permanence of the forests, the mountains, the \nocean, \xe2\x80\x94 with the unwearied circuit of the sun. But \nthis contrast is a delusion of our own imagination : the \ndifference is after all but one of degree. The forest tree \nendures for its centuries and then decays; the mountains \ncrumble and change, and perhaps subside in some \nconvulsion of nature ; the sea retires, and the shore \nceases to resound with the " everlasting " voice of the \nocean : such reflections have already crowded upon the \nmind of the geologist ; and it now appears that the \ncourses of the heavens themselves are not exempt from \nthe universal law of decay ; that not only the rocks and \nthe mountains, but the sun and the moon have the \n\n\n\n174 \n\n\n\nCOSMIC AL ARRANGEMENTS . \n\n\n\nsentence "to end" stamped upon their foreheads. \nThey enjoy no privilege beyond man except a longer \nrespite. The ephemeron perishes in an hour; man \nendures for his threescore years and ten ; an empire, a \nnation, numbers its centuries, it may be its thousands \nof years ; the continents and islands which its dominion \nincludes, have perhaps their date, as those which pre- \nceded them have had; and the very revolutions of the \nsky by which centuries are numbered will at last \nlanguish and stand still. \n\nTo dwell on the moral and rehgious reflections sug- \ngested by this train of thought is not to our present \npurpose ; but we may observe that it introduces a \nhomogeneity, so to speak, into the government of the \nuniverse. Perpetual change, perpetual progression, \nincrease and diminution, appear to be the rules of the \nmaterial world, and to prevail without exception. The \nsmaller x)ortions of matter which we have near us, and \nthe larger, which appear as luminaries at a vast dis- \ntance, different as they are in our mode of conceiving \nthem, obey the same laws of motion ; and these laws \nproduce the same results : in both cases motion is \nperpetually destroyed, except it be repaired by some \nliving power ; in both cases the relative rest of the \nparts of a material system is the conclusion to which \nits motion tends. \n\nIV. It may, perhaps, appear to some, that this \nacknowledgment of the tendency of the system to \nderangement through the action of a resisting medium \nis inconsistent with the argument which we have drawn, \nin a previous chapter, from the provisions for its \n\n\n\nRESISTING MEDIUM. \n\n\n\n175 \n\n\n\nstability. In reality, however, the two views are in \nperfect agreement, so far as our purpose is concerned. \nThe main point which we had to urge, in the consi- \nderation of the stability of the sj\'-stem, was, not that it \nis constructed to last for ever, but that while it lasts, \nthe deviations from its mean condition are very small. \nIt is this property which fits the world for its uses. \nTo maintain either the past or the future eternity of \nthe world, does not a2)pear consistent with physical \nprinciples, as it certainly does not fall in with the \nconvictions of the religious man, in whatever way \nobtained. We conceive that this state of things has \nhad a beginning ; we conceive that it will have an end. \nBut, in the mean time, we find it fitted, by a number of \nremarkable arrangements, to be the habitation of living \ncreatures. The conditions which secure the stabihty, \nand the smallness of the perturbations of the system, \nare among these provisions. If the excentricity of the \norbit of Venus, or of Jupiter, were much greater than \nit is, not only might some of the planets, at the close \nof ages, fall into the sun or fly off into infinite space, \nbut also, in the intermediate time, the earth\'s orbit \nmight become much more excentric ; the course of the \nseasons and the average of temperature might vary from \nwhat they now are, so as to mjure or destroy the whole \norganic creation. By certain original arrangements \nthese destructive oscillations are prevented. So long \nas the bodies continue to revolve, their orbits will not \nbe much different from what they now are. And this \nresult is not affected by the action of the resisting \nmedium. Such a medium cannot increase the small \n\n\n\n176 \n\n\n\nCOSMICAL ARRANGEMENTS. \n\n\n\nexceiitricities of the orbits. The range of the periodical \noscillations of heat and cold will not be extended by \nthe mechanical effect of the medium, nor would be, \neven if its density were incomparably greater than it is. \nThe resisting medium, therefore, does not at all coun- \nteract that which is most important in the provision \nfor the permanency of the solar system. If the stabihty \nof the system had not been secured by the adjustments \nwhich we described in a former chapter, the course of \nthe seasons might have been disturbed to an injurious \nor even destructive extent in the course of a few \ncenturies, or even within the hmits of one generation ; \nby the effect of the resisting medium, the order of \nnature remains unchanged for a period, compared with \nwhich the known duration of the human race is \ninsignificant. \n\nBut, it may be objected, the effect of the medium \nmust be ultimately to affect the duration of the earth\'s \nrevolution round the sun, and thus to derange those \nadaptations which depend on the length of the year. \nAnd, without question, if we permit ourselves to look \nforw^ards to that inconceivably distant period at which \nthe effect of the medium will become sensible, this \nmust be allowed to be true, as has been already stated. \nMillions, and probably millions of millions of years \nexpress inadequately the distance of time at which this \ncause would produce a serious effect. That the \nmachine of the universe is so constructed that it may \nanswer its purposes for such a period, is surely suffi- \ncient proof of the skill of its workmanship, and of the \nreality of its purpose : and those persons, probably. \n\n\n\nRESISTING MEDIUM. \n\n\n\n177 \n\n\n\nwho are best convinced that it is the work of a wise and \ngood Creator, will be least disposed to consider the \nsystem as imperfect, because in its present condition it \nis not fitted for eternity. \n\nV. The doctrine of a resisting medium leads us to- \nwards a point which the Nebular Hypothesis assumes ; \n\xe2\x80\x94 a beginning of the present order of things. There \nmust have been a commencement of the motions now \ngoing on in the solar sj^stem. Since these motions, \nwhen once begun, would be deranged and destroyed in \na period which, however large, is yet finite, it is obvious \nwe cannot carry their origin indefinitely backwards in \nthe range of past duration. There is a period in which \nthese revolutions, whenever they had begun, would \nhave brought the revolving bodies into contact with \nthe central mass ; and this period has in our system \nnot yet elapsed. The watch is still going, and \ntherefore it must have been wound up within a \nlimited time. \n\nThe solar system, at this its beginning, must have \nbeen arranged and put in motion by some cause. If \nwe suppose this cause to operate by means of the con- \nfigurations and the properties of previously existing \nmatter, these configurations must have resulted from \nsome still previous cause, these properties must have \nproduced some previous effects. We are thus led to a \ncondition still earlier than the assumed beginning ; \xe2\x80\x94 \nto an origin of the original state of the universe ; and \nin this manner we are carried perpetually further and \nfurther back, through a labyrinth of mechanical causa- \ntion, without any possibihty of finding anything in \n\nN \n\n\n\n178 \n\n\n\nCOSMICAL ARRANGEMENTS. \n\n\n\nwhich the mind can acquiesce or rest, till we admit " a \nFirst Cause which is not mechanical." \n\nThus the argument wliich was before urged against \nthose in particular, who put forwards the Nebular \nHypothesis in opposition to the admission of an In- \ntelligent Creator, offers itself again, as cogent in itself, \nwhen we adopt the opinion of a resisting medium, for \nwhich the physical proofs have been found to be so \nstrong. The argument is indeed forced upon our \nminds, whatever view we take of the past history of \nthe universe. Some have endeavoured to evade its \nforce by maintaining that the world as it now exists \nhas existed from eternity. They assert that the present \norder of things, or an order of things in some way \nresembling the present, produced by the same causes, \ngoverned by the same laws, has prevailed through an \ninfinite succession of past ages. We shall not dwell \nupon any objections to this tenet which might be drawn \nfrom our own conceptions, or from what may be called \nmetaphysical sources. Nor shall we refer to the various \nconsiderations which history, geology, and astronomical \nrecords supply, and which tend to show, not only that \nthe past duration of the present course of things is \nfinite, but that it is short, compared with such periods \nas we have had to speak of. But we may observe, that \nthe doctrine of a resisting medium once established, \nmakes this imagination untenable ; compels us to go \nback to the origm, not only of the |)resent course of \nthe world, not only of the earth, but of the solar system \nitself; and thus sets us forth upon that path of research \ninto the series of past causation, where we obtain no \n\n\n\nRESISTING MEDIUM. \n\n\n\n179 \n\n\n\nanswer of wliich the meaning corresponds to our \nquestions, till we rest in the conclusion of a most \nprovident and most powerful Creating Intelligence. \n\nIt is related of Epicurus that when a boy, reading \nwith his preceptor these verses of Hesiod, \n\nHto: i-l^v TrpcoTis-a Xaos ysveT% avrap eTretra \n\nEldest of beings, Chaos first arose, \n\nThence Earth wide stretched, the steadfast seat of all \n\nThe Immortals, \n\nthe young scholar first betrayed his inquisitive genius \nby asking " And chaos whence ? " When in his riper \nyears he had persuaded himself that this question was \nsufficiently answered by saying that chaos arose from \nthe concourse of atoms, it is strange that the same \ninquisitive spirit did not again suggest the question \n" and atoms whence ? " And it is clear that however \noften the question " whence ?" had been answered, it \nwould still start up as at first. Nor could it sufiice as \nan answer to say, that earth, chaos, atoms, were portions \nof a series of changes which went back to eternity. \nThe preceptor of Epicurus informed him, that to be \nsatisfied on the subject of his inquiry, he must have \nrecourse to the philosophers. If the young speculator \nhad been told that chaos (if chaos indeed preceded \nthe present order) was produced by an Eternal Being, \nin whom resided purpose and will, he would have re- \nceived a suggestion which, duly matured by subsequent \n\nN 2 \n\n\n\n180 \n\n\n\nCOSMIC AL ARRANGEMENTS. \n\n\n\ncontemplation, might have led him to a philosophy far \nmore satisfactory than the material scheme can ever \nhe, to one who looks, either abroad into the universe, \nor within into his own bosom. \n\nChxIP, IX. \xe2\x80\x94 Mechanical Laws. \n\nIn the preceding observations we have supposed the \nlaws, by which different kinds of matter act and are \nacted upon, to be alread}^ in existence ; and have \nendeavoured to point out evidences of design and \nadaptation, displayed in the selection and arrangement \nof these materials of the universe. These materials \nare, it has appeared, supplied in such measures and \ndisposed in such forms, that by means of their proper- \nties and laws the business of the world goes on \nharmoniously and beneficially. But a further question \noccurs : how came matter to have such properties and \nlaws ? Are these also to be considered as things of \nselection and institution ? And if so, can we trace \nthe reasons wli}^ the laws were established in their \npresent form ; why the properties which matter actually \npossesses were established and bestowed upon it ? We \nhave already attempted, in a jDrevious part of this work, \nto point out some of the advantages which are secured \nby the existing laws of heat, light, and moisture : can \nwe, in the same manner, point out the benefits which \narise from the present constitution of those laws of \nmatter which are mainly concerned in the production \nof cosmical phenomena ? \n\nIt will readity be perceived that the discussion of this \n\n\n\nMECHANICAL LAWS. \n\n\n\n181 \n\n\n\npoint must necessarily require some effort of abstract \nthought. The laws and properties of which we have \nhere to speak \xe2\x80\x94 the law^s of motion and the universal \nproperties of matter \xe2\x80\x94 are so closely interwoven with \nour conce]3tions of the external w^orld, that we have \ngreat difficulty in conceiving them not to exist, or to \nexist other than they are. When we press or lift a \nstone, we can hardly imagine that it could, by possi- \nbility, do otherwise than resist our effort by its hardness \nand by its heaviness, qualities so familiar to us: w^hen \nwe throw it, it seems inevitable that its motion should \ndepend on the impulse we give, just as we find that it \ninvariably does. \n\nNor is it easy to say lioiv far it is realty j)ossible to \nsuppose the fundamental attributes of matter to be \ndifferent from what they are. If we, in our thoughts, \nattempt to divest matter of its powers of resisting and \nmoving, it ceases to be matter, according to our con- \nceptions, and we can no longer reason upon it with any \ndistinctness. And yet it is certain that we can conceive \nthe laws of hardness and weight and motion to be quite \ndifferent from what they are, and can point out some \nof the consequences which would result from such \ndifference. The properties of matter, even the most \nfundamental and universal ones, do not obtain by any \nabsolute necessity, resembling that which belongs to \nthe properties of geometry. A line touching a circle, \nis necessarily perpendicular to a line drawn to the \ncentre through the point touched ; for it may be \nshown that the contrary involves a contradiction : but \nthere is no contradiction in supposing that a body\'s \n\n\n\n182 \n\n\n\nCOSMICAL ARRANGEMENTS. \n\n\n\nmotion should naturally diminisli, or that its weight \nshould increase in removing further from the earth\'s \ncentre. \n\nThus the properties of matter and the laws of motion \nare what we find them, not b}^ virtue of any internal \nnecessity which we can understand. The study of such \nlaws and properties may therefore disclose to us the \ncharacter of that external agency by which we conceive \nthem to have been determined to be what they are ; \nand this must be the same agency by which all other \nparts of the constitution of the universe were appointed \nand ordered. \n\nBut we can hardly expect, with regard to such \nsubjects, that we shall be able to obtain any complete \nor adequate view of the reasons why these general \nlaws are so selected, and so established. These laws \nare the universal basis of all operations which go on, \nat any moment, in every part of space, with regard to \nevery particle of matter, organic and inorganic. All \nother laws and properties must have a reference to \nthese, and must be influenced by them ; both such as \nmen have already discovered, and the far greater \nnumber which remain still unknown. The general \neconomy and mutual relations of all parts of the \nuniverse must be subordinate to the laws of motion \nand matter of which we here speak. We can easily \nsuppose that the various processes of nature, and the \ndependencies of various creatures, are affected in the \nmost comprehensive manner by these laws ; \xe2\x80\x94 are \nsimplified by their simplicity, made consistent by their \nuniversality ; rendered regular by their symmetry. \n\n\n\nMECHANICxiL LAWS. \n\n\n\n183 \n\n\n\nWe can easily \'suppose that in this way there may be \nthe most profound and admirable reasons for the exist- \nence of the present universal properties of matter, \nwhich we cannot apprehend in consequence of the \nlimited nature of our knowledge, and of our faculties. \nFor, though our knowledge on certain subjects, and to \na certain extent is positive and clear, compared with \nthe whole extent of the universe, the whole aggregate \nof things and relations and connexions which exist, \nit is most narrow and partial, most shallow and super- \nficial. We cannot suppose, therefore, that the reasons \nwhich we discover for the present form of the laws of \nnature go nearly to the full extent, or to the bottom of \nthe reasons, which a more complete and profound \ninsight would enable us to perceive. To do justice to\' \nsuch reasons, would require nothing less than a perfect \nacquaintance with the whole constitution of every part \nof creation ; a knowledge which man has not, and, so \nfar as we can conceive, never can have. \n\nWe are certain, therefore, that our views, with regard \nto this part of our subject, must be imperfect and \nlimited. Yet still man has some knowledge with \nregard to various portions of nature ; and with regard \nto those most general and comparatively simple facts \nto which we now refer, his knowledge is more compre- \nhensive, and goes deeper than it does in any other \nprovince. We conceive, therefore, that we shall not be \nengaged in any rash or presumptuous attempt, if we \nendeavour to point out some of the advantages which \nare secured by the present constitution of some of the \ngeneral mechanical laws of nature ; and to suggest the \n\n\n\n184i \n\n\n\nCOSMICAL AEEANGEMENTS. \n\n\n\npersuasion of that purpose and wise design, which the \nselection of such laws will thus appear to imply. \n\nChap. X. \xe2\x80\x94 The Law of Gravitation. \n\nWe shall proceed to make a few observations on the \nLaw of Gravit}^, in virtue of which the motions of \nplanets about the sun, and of satellites about their \nplanets take place ; and by which also are produced \nthe fall downwards of all bodies within our reach, and \nthe pressure which they exert upon their supports \nwhen at rest. The identification of the latter forces \nwith the former, and the discovery of the single law by \nwhich these forces are every where regulated, was the \ngreat discovery of Newton : and we wish to make it \nappear that this law is established by an intelligent and \ncomprehensive selection. \n\nThe law of the sun\'s attraction upon the planets is, \nthat this attraction varies inversely as the square of \nthe distance ; that is, it decreases as that square in- \ncreases. If we take three points or planets of the solar \nsystem, the distances of which from the sun are in the \nproportion, 1, 2, 3 ; the attractive force which the sun \nat these distances exercises, is as 1, l-4th, and l-9th \nrespectively. In the smaller variations of distance \nwhich occur in the elliptical motion of one planet, the \nvariations of the force follow the same law. Moreover, \nnot only does the sun attract the planets, but they \nattract each other according to the same law ; the ten- \ndency to the earth which makes bodies heavy, is one of \nthe effects of this law: and all these effects of the \n\n\n\nLAW OF GRAVITATION. 185 \n\nattractions of large masses may be traced to tlie \nattractions of the particles of which they are composed; \nso that the final generalisation, including all the deri- \nvative laws, is, that every particle of matter in the \nuniverse attracts every other, accordmg to the law of \nthe inverse square of the distance. \n\nSuch is the law of universal gravitation. Now, the \nquestion is, why do either the attractions of masses, or \nthose of their component particles, follow this law of \nthe inverse square of the distance rather than any \nother ? When the distance becomes 1, 2, and 3, why \nshould not the force also become 1, 2, and 3 ? \xe2\x80\x94 or if it \nmust be weaker at points more remote from the attract- \ning body, why should it not be 1, a half, a third ? or 1, \nl-8th, l-27th ? Such laws could easily be expressed \nmathematically, and their consequences calculated. \nCan any reason be assigned why the law which we find \nin operation must obtain ? Can any be assigned why \nit should obtain ? \n\nThe answer to this is, that no reason, at all satisfac- \ntory, can be given why such a law must, of necessity, \nbe what it is; but that very strong reasons can be \npointed out why, for the beauty and advantage of the \nsystem, the present one is better than others. We will \npoint out some of these reasons. \n\nI. In the first place, the system could not have sub- \nsisted, if the force had followed a direct instead of an \ninverse law, with respect to the distance : that is, if it \nhad increased when the distance increased. It has been \nsometimes said, that " all direct laws of force are ex- \ncluded on account of the danger from perturbing \n\n\n\n186 \n\n\n\nCOSMICAL ARRANGEMENTS . \n\n\n\nforces ; " that if the planets had pulled at this earth, \nthe harder the further off they were, they would have \ndragged it entirely out of its course. This is not an \nexact statement of what would happen : if the force \nwere to he simply in the direct ratio of the distance, \nany number of planets might revolve in the most \nregular and orderly manner. Their mutual effects, \nwhich we may call perturbations if we please, would be \nconsiderable ; but these perturbations would be so com- \nbined with the unperturbed motion, as to produce a new \nmotion not less regular than the other. This curious \nresult would follow, that every body in the system would \ndescribe, or seem to describe, about every other, an exact \nelliptical orbit ; and that the times of the revolution of \nevery body in its orbit would be all equal. This is \nproved by Newton, in the 64th proposition of the \nPrincipia. There Avould be nothing to prevent all the \nplanets, on this supposition, from moving round the \nsun in orbits exactly circular, or nearly circular, accord- \ning to the mode in which they were set in motion. \n\nBut though the perturbations of the system would \nnot make this law inadmissible, there are other circum- \nstances which would do so. Under this law, the gravity \nof bodies at the earth\'s surface would cease to exist. \nNothing would fall or weigh downwards. The greater \naction of the distant sun and planets would exactly \nneutralise the gravity of the earth : a ball thrown from \nthe hand, however gently, would immediately become a \nsatellite of the earth, and would for the future accom- \npany it in its course, revolving about it in the space of \n\n* Paley. \n\n\n\nLAW OF GRAVITATION. \n\n\n\n187 \n\n\n\none year. All terrestrial things would float about with \nno principle of coherence or stability : they would obey \nthe general law of the system, but would acknowledge \nno particular relation to the earth. We can hardly \npretend to judge of the abstract possibility of such a \nsystem of things ; but it is clear that it could not exist \nwithout an utter subversion of all that we can conceive \nof the economy and structure of the world which we \ninhabit. \n\nWith any other direct law of force, we should in \nlike manner lose gravity, without gaining the theoretical \nregularity of the planetary motions which we have \ndescribed in the case just considered. \n\nII. Among inverse laws of the distance, (that is, those \naccording to which the force diminishes as the distance \' \nfrom the origin of force increases,) all which diminish \nthe central force faster than the cube of the distance \nincreases are inadmissible, because they are incom- \npatible with the permanent revolution of a planet. \nUnder such laws it would follow, that a planet would \ndescribe a spiral line about the sun, and would either \napproach nearer and nearer to him perpetually, or per- \npetually go further and further off : nearly as a stone \nat the end of a string, when the string is whirled \nround, and is allowed to wrap round the hand, or to \nunwrap from it, approaches to or recedes from the \nhand. \n\nIf we endeavour to compare the law of the inverse \nsquare of the distance, which really regulates the cen^ \ntral force, with other laws, not ob\\dously inadmissible, \nas for instance, the inverse simple ratio of the distance, \n\n\n\n188 \n\n\n\nCOSMICAL AllRAKGEMENTS. \n\n\n\na considerable quantity of calculation is found to be \nnecessary in order to trace the results, and especially \nthe perturbations in the two cases. The perturbations, \nin the supposed case, have not been calculated ; such \na calculation being a process so long and laborious \nthat it is never gone through, except for the purpose of \ncomparing the results of theory with those of observa- \ntion, as we can do with regard to the law of the inverse \nsquare. We can only say, therefore, that the stabilit}^ \nof the system, and the moderate limits of the perturba- \ntions, which we know to be secured by the existing \nlaw, would not, so far as we know, be obtained by any \ndifferent law. \n\nWithout going into further examination of the sub- \nject, we may observe that there are some circumstances \nin which the present system has a manifest superiority \nin simplicity over the condition which would have \nbelonged to it if the force had followed any other law. \nThus, with the present law of gravitation, the planets \nrevolve, returning perpetually on the same track, very \nnearly. The earth describes an oval, in consequence \nof which motion she is nearer to the sun in our winter \nthan in our summer by about one -thirtieth part of the \nwhole distance. And, as the matter now is, the nearest \napproach to the sun, and the farthest recess from him, \noccur always at the same points of the orbit. There is \nmdeed a slight alteration in these points, arising from \ndisturbing forces, but this is hardly sensible in the \ncourse of several ages. Now if the force had followed \nany other law, we should have had the earth running \nperpetually on a new track. The greatest and least \n\n\n\nLAW OF GRAVITATION. \n\n\n\n189 \n\n\n\ndistances would have occurred at different parts in \nevery successive revolution. The orbit wmild have \nperpetually intersected and been interlaced with the \npath described in former revolutions ; and the simplicity \nand regularity which characterises the present motion \nwould have been quite wanting. \n\nIII. Another peculiar point of simplicity in the present \nlaw of mutual attraction is this : that it makes the law \nof attraction for spherical masses the same as for single \nparticles. If particles attract with forces which are \ninversely as the square of the distance, spheres com- \nposed of such particles will exert a force which follows \nthe same law. In this character the present law is \nsingular, among all possible laws, excepting that of the \ndirect distance which we have already discussed. If \nthe law of the gravitation of particles had been that of \nthe inverse simple distance, the attraction of a sphere \nwould have been expressed by a complex series of \nmathematical expressions, each representing a simple \nlaw. It is truly remarkable that the law of the inverse \nsquare of the distance, which appears to be selected as \nthat of the masses of the system, and of which the \nmechanism is, that it arises from the action of the \nparticles of the system, should lead us to the same law \nfor the action of these particles : there is a striking \nprerogative of simplicity in the law thus adopted. \n\nThe law of gravitation actually prevailing in the \nsolar system has thus great and clear advantages over \nany law widely different from it : and has moreover, in \nmany of its consequences, a simplicity which belongs \nto this precise law alone. It is in many such respects \n\n\n\n190 \n\n\n\nCOSMICAL ARRANGEMENTS. \n\n\n\na unique law : and when we consider that it possesses \nseveral jproperties which are ijecidiar to it, and several \nadvantages which, so far as we can see, may be peculiar \nto it, and which are certainly nearly so ; we have some \nground, it would appear, to look upon its peculiarities \nand its advantages as connected. For the reasons \nmentioned in the last chapter, we can hardly expect to \ndiscern fully the way in which the system is benefited \nby the simplicity of this law, and by the mathematical \nelegance of its consequences : but when we see that it \nhas some such beauties, and some manifest benefits, we \nmay easily suppose that our ignorance and limited capa- \ncity alone prevent our perceiving that there are, for the \nselection of this law of force, reasons of a far more \nrefined and comprehensive kind than those which we \ncan distinctly apprehend. \n\nIV. But before quitting this subject we may offer a \nfew further observations on the question, whether gravi- \ntation and the law of gravitation be necessary attributes \nof matter. We have spoken of the selection of this \nlaw ; but is it selected ? Could it have been otherwise ? \nIs not the force of attraction a necessary consequence \nof the fundamental properties of matter ? \n\nThis is a question which has been much agitated \namong the followers of Newton. Some have main- \ntained, as Cotes, that gravity is an inherent property of \nall matter ; others, with Newton himself, have consi- \ndered it as an appendage to the essential qualities of \nmatter, and have proposed hypotheses to account for \nthe mode in which its effects are produced. \n\nThe result of all that can be said on the subject \n\n\n\nLAW OF GRAVITATIOIS\'. \n\n\n\n191 \n\n\n\nappears to be this : that no one can demonstrate the \npossibility of deducing gravity from the acknowledged \nfundamental properties of matter : and that no philo- \nsopher asserts, that matter has been found to exist, \nwhich was destitute of gravity. It is a property which \nwe have no right to call necessary to matter, but every \nreason to suppose universal. \n\nIf we could show gravity to be a necessary conse- \nquence of those properties which we adopt as essential \nto our notion of matter, (extension, sohdity, mobility, \ninertia,) we might then call it also one of the essential \nproperties. But no one probably will assert that this \nis the case. Its universality is a fact of observation \nmerely. How then came a property, \xe2\x80\x94 in its existence \nso needful for the support of the universe, in its laws \nso well adapted to the purposes of creation, \xe2\x80\x94 how came \nit to be thus universal? Its being found everywhere \nis necessary for its uses ; but this is so far from being \na sufficient explanation of its existence, that it is an \nadditional fact to be explained. We have here, then, \nan agency, most simple in its rule, most comprehensive \nin its influence, most effectual and admirable in its \noperation. What evidence could be afforded of design, \nby laws of mechanical action, which this law thus exist- \ning and thus operating does not afford us ? \n\nV. It is not necessary for our purpose to consider \nthe theories which have been proposed to account for \nthe action of gravity. They have proceeded on the \nplan of reducing this action to the result of pressure or \nimpulse. Even if such theories could be established, \nthey could not much, or at ail, affect our argument ; \n\n\n\n192 \n\n\n\nCOSMICAL ARRANGEMENTS. \n\n\n\nfor the arrangements by which pressure or impact \ncoukl produce the effects which gravity produces, must \nbe at least as clearly results of contrivance, as gravity \nitself can be. \n\nIn fact, however, none of these attempts can be consi- \ndered as at all successful. That of Newton is very \nremarkable : it is found among the Queries in the \nsecond edition of his Optics. " To show," he says, \n" that I do not take gravity for an essential property of \nbodies, I have added one question concerning its cause, \nchoosing to propose it by way of question, because I am \nnot 3^et satisfied about it for want of experiments." The \nhjrpothesis which he thus suggests is, that there is an \nelastic medium pervading all space, and increasing in \nelasticity as we proceed from dense bodies outwards : \nthat this " causes the gravity of such dense bodies to \neach other : every body endeavouring to go from the \ndenser parts of the medium towards the rarer." Of \nthis hypothesis we may venture to say, that it is in the \nfirst place quite gratuitous ; we cannot trace in any \nother phenomena a medium possessing these proper- \nties : and in the next place, tliat the hypothesis contains \nseveral suppositions which are more complex than the \nfact to be explained, and none which are less so. Can \nwe, on Newton\'s principles, conceive an elastic medium \notherwise than as a collection of j)articles, repelhng \neach other ? and is the repulsion of such particles a \nsimpler fact than the attraction of those which gravitate ? \nAnd when we suppose that the medium becomes more \nelastic as we proceed from each attracting body, what \ncause can we conceive capable of keeping it in such a \n\n\n\nLA^ OF GRAVITATION^. \n\n\n\n]93 \n\n\n\nQ, except a repulsive force emanating from the \nelf : a supposition at least as much requiring \n30unted for, as the attraction of the body. It \nt appear, then, that this hypothesis v>^ill hear \nexamination ; although, for our purpose, the argument \nwould be rather strengthened than weakened, if it could \nbe estabhshed. \n\nVI. Another theory of the cause of gravity, wliich at \none time excited considerable notice, was that originally \nproposed by M. Le Sage, in a memoir entitled, " Lucrece \nNewtonien," and further illustrated by M. Prevost ; \naccording to which, all space is occupied by currents of \nmatter, moving perpetually in straight lines, in all \ndirections, with a vast velocity, and penetrating all \nbodies. When two bodies are near each other, they \nintercept the current which would flow in the inter- \nmediate space if they were not there, and thus receive \na tendency towards each other from the pressure of the \ncurrents on their farther sides. Without examining* \nfurther this curious and ingenious hypothesis, we may \nmake upon it the same kind of observations as before ; \n\xe2\x80\x94 that it is perfectly gratuitous, except as a means of \nexplaming the phenomena ; and that, if it were proved, \nit would still remain to be shown what necessity has \ncaused the existence of these tivo kinds of matter ; the \nfirst kind being tliat which is commonly called matter^ \nand which alone affects our senses, while it is inert as \nto any tendency to motion ; the second kind being \nsomething imperceptible to our senses, except by the \neffects it produces on matter of the former kind ; yet \nexerting an impulse on every material body, permeating \n\n\n\n\n\n194 \n\n\n\nCOSMICAL ARRANGEMENTS. \n\n\n\nevery portion of common matter, flowing with incon- \nceivable velocity, in inexhaustible abundance, from \nevery part of the abyss of infinity on one side, to the \nopposite part of the same abyss ; and so constituted \nthat through all eternity it can never bend its path, or \nreturn, or tarry in its course. \n\nIf we were to accept this theory, it would little or \nnothing diminish our wonder at the structure of the \nuniverse. We might well continue to admire the evi- \ndence of contrivaDce, if such a machinery should be \nfound to produce all the effects which flow from the \nlaw of gravitation. \n\nVII. The law of the force of gravity, which we have \nexplained in the beginning of this chapter, namely, \nthat the attraction between all bodies varies inversely \nas the square of their distance from each other, has \noften been a subject of discussion, with reference to the \nreasons why it is so rather than otherwise. The argu- \nments for and against the assertion that this is the \nnecessary and inevitable law of such a force, were can- \nvassed with great animation about the middle of the \nlast century. \n\nNewton and other astronomers had found that the \nline of the moon\'s ai^sides (that is, of her greatest and \nleast distances from the earth) moves round to different \nparts of the heavens with a velocit}^ twice as great as \nthat which the calculation from the law of gravitation \nseems at first sight to give. According to the theory, \nit appeared that this line ought to move round once in \neighteen years ; according to observation, it moves \nround once in nine years. This difference, the only \n\n\n\nLAW OP GRAVITATION. 195 \n\nobvious failure of the theory of gravitation, embarrassed \nmathematicians exceedingly. It is true, it was subse- \nquently discovered that the apparent discrepancy arose \nfrom a mistake ; the calculation, which is long and \nlaborious, was supposed to have been carried far enough \nto get close to the truth ; but it appeared afterwards \nthat the residue which had been left out as insignificant, \nproduced, by an unexpected turn in the reckoning, an \neffect as large as that which had been taken for the \nwhole. But this discovery was not made till a later \nperiod ; and in the mean time the law of the inverse \nsquare appeared to be at fault. Clairault tried to \nremedy the defect by supposing that the force of the \nearth\'s gravity consisted of a large force varying in- \nversely as the square of the distance, and a very small \nforce varying inversely as the fourth power (the square \nof the square). By such a supposition, observation and \ntheory could be reconciled ; but on the suggestion of it, \nBuffon came forward with the assertion that the force \ncould not YBTj according to any other law than the in- \nverse square. His arguments are rather metaphysical \nthan physical or mathematical. Gravity, he urges, is a \nquality, an emanation ; and all emanations are inversely \nas the square of the distance, as light, odours. To this \nClau-ault replies by asking how we knov/ that light and \nodours have their intensity inversely as the square of \nthe distance from their origin : not, he observes, by mea- \nsuring the intensity, but by supposing these effects to be \nmaterial emanations. But who, he asks, supposes gra- \nvity to be a material emanation from the attracting body. \nBuffon again pleads that so many facts prove the \n\no 2 \n\n\n\n196 \n\n\n\nCOSMICAL AEllANGEMEJJTS. \n\n\n\nlaw of the inverse square, that a single one, wliich \noccurs to interfere with this agreement, must he in \nsome manner capahle of being explained away. \nClairault replies, that the facts do not prove this law \nto obtain exactly ; that small effects, of the same order \nas the one under discussion, have been neglected in \nthe supposed proof; and that therefore the law is only \nknown to be true, as/aras such an approximation goes, \nand no farther. \n\nBuffon then argues, that there can be no such addi- \ntional fraction of the force, following a different law, as \nClau-ault supposes : for what, he asks, is there to \ndetermine the magnitude of the fraction to one amount \nrather than another ? why should nature select for it \nany particular magnitude ? To this it is replied, that, \nwhether we can explain the fact or not, nature does \nselect certain magnitudes in preference to others ; that \nwhere we ascertain she does this, we are not to deny \nthe fact because we cannot assign the grounds of her \npreference. What is there, it is asked, to determine \nthe magnitude of the whole force at any fixed distance? \n"We cannot tell ; yet the force is of a certain definite \nintensity and no other. \n\nFinally Clairault observes, that we have, in cohesion, \ncapillary attraction, and various other cases, examples \nof forces varying according to other laws than the in- \nverse square ; and that therefore this cannot be the \nonly j)0ssible law. \n\nThe discrepancy between observation and theory \nwhich gave rise to this controversy was removed, as has \nbeen akeady stated, by a more exact calculation : and \n\n\n\nLAW OF GEAVITATION. \n\n\n\n197 \n\n\n\ntlius, as Laplace observes, in tliis case the metaphy- \nsician turned out to be right and the mathematician to \nbe wrong. But most persons, probabl}^ who are \nfamiliar with such trains of speculation, will allow, that \nClairault had the best of the argument, and that the \nattempts to show the law of gravitation to be neces- \nsarily what it is, are fallacious and unsound. \n\nVIII. We may observe, however, that the law of \ngravitation according to the inverse square of the dis- \ntance, which thus regulates the motions of the solar \nsystem, is not confined to that province of the universe, \nas has been shown by recent researches. It appears \nby the observations and calculations of Sir John \nHerschel, that several of the stars, called double stars, \nconsist of a pair of luminous bodies which revolve \nabout each other in ellipses, in such a manner as to \nshow that the force, by which they are attracted to \neach other, varies according to the law of the inverse \nsquare. We thus learn a remarkable fact concerning \nbodies which seemed so far removed from us that no \neffort of our science could reach them ; and we find \nthat the same law of mutual attraction which we have \nbefore traced to the farthest bounds of the solar system, \nprevails also in spaces at a distance compared with \nwhich the orbit of Saturn shrinks into a point. The \nestablishment of such a truth certainly suggests, as \nhighly probable, the prevalence of this law among all \nthe bodies of the universe. And we may therefore \nsuppose, that the same ordinance which gave to the \nparts of our system that rule by which they fulfil the \npurposes of their creation, impressed the same rule on \n\n\n\n198 \n\n\n\nCOSMICAL ARRANGEMENTS. \n\n\n\nthe other portions of matter which are scattered in the \nmost remote parts of the universe ; and thus gave to \ntheir movements the same grounds of simplicity and \nharmony which we find reason to admire, as far as we \ncan acquire any knowledge of our own more immediate \nneighbourhood. \n\nChap. XI. \xe2\x80\x94 Tlie Latus of Motion. \n\nWe shall now make a few remarks on the general \nLaws of Motion by which all mechanical effects take \nplace. Are we to consider these as instituted laws ? \nAnd if so, can we point out any of the reasons which \nwe may suppose to have led to the selection of those \nlaws which really exist ? \n\nThe observations formerly made concerning the \ninevitable narrowness and imperfection of our conclu- \nsions on such subjects, apply here, even more strongly \nthan in the case of the law of gravitation. We can \nhardly conceive matter divested of these laws ; and we \ncannot perceive or trace a millionth part of the effects \nwhich they produce. We cannot, therefore, expect to \ngo far in pointing out the essential advantages of these \nlaws such as they now obtain. \n\nIt would be easy to show that the fundamental laws \nof motion, in whatever form we state them, possess a \nvery pre-eminent simplicity, compared with almost all \nothers, which we might imagine as existing. This \nsimplicity has indeed produced an effect on men\'s minds \nwhich, though delusive, appears to be very natural ; \nseveral writers have treated these laws as self-evident, and \n\n\n\nTHE LAWS OP MOTION. \n\n\n\n199 \n\n\n\nnecessarily flowing from the nature of our conceptions. \nWe conceive that this is an erroneous view, and that \nthese laws are Imown to us to he what they are, hy \nexperience only; that the laws of motion might, \nso far as we can discern, have heen any others. \nThey appear therefore to he selected for their fitness \nto answer their purposes; and we may, perhaps, he \nahle to point out some instances in which this fitness is \napparent to us. \n\nNewton, and many English philosophers, teach the \nexistence of three separate fundamental laws of motion, \nwhile most of the eminent mathematicians of France \nreduce these to tivo, the law of inertia and the law that \nforce is proportional to velocity. As an example of \nthe views which we wish to illustrate, we may take the \nlaw of inertia, which is identical with Newton\'s first \nLaw of Motion. This law asserts, that a hody at \nrest continues at rest, and that a body in motion goes \non moving with its velocity and direction unchanged, \nexcept so far as it is acted on by extraneous forces.* \n\nWe conceive that this law^, simple and universal as \nit is, cannot be shown to be necessarily true. It might \nbe difficult to discuss this point in general terms with \nany clearness ; but let us take the only example which \n\n* If tlie laws of motion are stated as three, which we conceive to be \nthe true view of the subject^ the other two, as applied in mechanical \nreasonings, are the following : \xe2\x80\x94 \n\nSecond Law. When a force acts on a body in motion, it produces the \nsame effect as if the same force acted on a body at rest. \n\nThird Law. When a force of the nature of pressure produces motion, \nthe velocity produced is proportional to the force, other things being \nequal. \n\n\n\n200 \n\n\n\nCOSMICAL ARRANGEMENTS. \n\n\n\nwe know of a motion absolutely uniform, in conse- \nquence of the absence of any force to accelerate or \nretard it ; \xe2\x80\x94 tliis motion is the rotation of the earth on \nits axis. \n\nI. It is scarcely possible that discussions on such \nsubjects should not have a repulsive and scholastic \naspect, and appear like disputes about words rather than \nthings. For mechanical writers have exercised all \ntheir ingenuity so to circumscribe their notions and so \nto define their terms, that these fundamental truths \nshould be expressed in the simplest manner : the con- \nsequence of which has been, that they have been made \nto assume the appearance rather of identical assertions \nthan of general facts of experience. But in order to \n\xe2\x96\xa0avoid tliis inconvenience, as far as may be, we take the \nfirst laiv of motion as exemplified in a particular case, \nthe rotation of the earth. Of all the motions with \nwdiich we are acquainted, this alone is invariable. Each \nday, measm-ed by the passages of the stars, is so pre- \ncisely of the same length, that, according to Laplace\'s \ncalculations, it is impossible that a difference of one \nhundredth of a second of time should have obtained \nbetween the length of the day in the earliest ages and \nat the present time. Now why is this ? How is this \nvery remarkable uniformity preserved in this particular \nphenomenon, while all the other motions of the system \nare subject to inequahties ? How is it that in the celestial \nmachine no retardation takes place by the lapse of \ntime, as would be the case in any machine which it \nwould be possible for human powers to construct? \nThe answer is, that in the earth\'s revolution on her \n\n\n\nTHE LAWS OF MOTION. \n\n\n\n201 \n\n\n\naxis no cause operates to retard the speed, like the \nimperfection of materials, the friction of supports, the \nresistance of the ambient medium ; * impediments \nwhich cannot, in any human mechanism, however perfect, \nbe completely annihilated. But here we are led to ask \nagain, why should the speed continue the same when \nnot affected by an extraneous cause ? why should it not \nlanguish and decay of itself by the mere lapse of time ? \nThat it might do so, involves no contradiction, for it \nwas the common, though erroneous, belief of all mecha- \nnical speculators, to the time of Galileo. We can \nconceive velocity to diminish in proceeding from a \ncertain point of time, as easily as we can conceive force \nto diminish in proceedmg from a certain point of space, \nwhich in attractive forces really occurs. But, it is \nsometimes said, the motion (that is the velocity) must \ncontinue the same from one instant to another, for \nthere is nothing to change it. This aj)pears to be \ntaking refuge in words. We may call the velocity, that \nis the speed of a body, its motion ; but we cannot, by \ngiving it this name, make it a thing which has any \nu jpviori claim to permanence, much less any self- \nevident constancy. Why must the speed of a body, \nleft to itself, continue the same, any more than its \n\n* It lias already beeu stated that the resisting medium spoken of in \nChapter VIII. of this Book has not yet produced any effect which can \nbe detected in the motion of the earth. Probably the effect of this \nmedium upon the rotation of the earth would be extremely small com- \npared with its effect on the earth\'s motion in her orbit ; and yet this \nlatter effect bears no discoverable proportion to the effect of the smallest \nperturbing forces of the other planets. \n\n\n\n202 \n\n\n\nCOSMICAL ARRANGEMENTS. \n\n\n\ntemperature. Hot bodies grow cooler when left to \nthemselves; why should not quick bodies go slower when \nleft to themselves ? AVhy must a body describe 1000 \nfeet in the next second because it has described 1000 \nfeet in the last ? Nothing but experience, under \nproper circumstances, can inform us whether bodies, \nabstracting from external agency, do move according \nto such a rule. We find that they do so : we learn \nthat all diminution of their speed which ever takes \nplace, can be traced to external causes. Contrary to \nall that men had guessed, motion appears to be of \nitself endless and unwearied. In order to account for \nthe unalterable permanence of the length of our day, \nall that is requisite is to show that there is no let or \nhindrance in the way of the earth\'s rotation; \xe2\x80\x94 no \nresisting medium or alteration of size \xe2\x80\x94 she " spinning \nsleeps " on her axle, as the poet expresses it, and may \ngo on sleeping with the same regularity for ever, so \nfar as the experimental properties of motion are con- \ncerned. \n\nSuch is the necessary consequence of the first law of \nmotion ; but the law itseK has no necessary existence, \nso far as Ave can see. It was discovered only after \nvarious perplexities and false conjectures of speculators \non mechanics. We have learnt that it is so, but we \nhave not learnt, nor can any one undertake to teach us, \nthat it must have been so. For aught we can tell, it is \none among a thousand equally possible laws, which \nmight have regulated the motions of bodies. \n\nII. But though we have thus no reason to consider \nthis as the only possible law, we have good reason to \n\n\n\nTHE LAWS OF MOTION. \n\n\n\n203 \n\n\n\nconsider it as the best, or at least as iDossessing all that \nwe can conceive of advantage. It is the simplest con- \nceivable of such laws. If the velocity had been com- \npelled to change with the time, there must have been a \nlaw of the change, and the kind and amount of this \nchange must have been determined by its dependence \non the time and other conditions. Tliis, though quite \nsupposable, would undoubtedly have been more complex \nthan the present state of things. And though com- \nplexity does not appear to embarrass the operation of \nthe laws of natm^e, and is admitted, without scruple, \nwhen there is reason for it, simplicity is the usual \ncharacter of such laws, and appears to have been a \nground of selection in the formation of the universe, \nas it is a mark of beauty to us in our contemplation \nof it. \n\nBut there is a still stronger apparent reason for the \nselection of this law of the preservation of motion. If \nthe case had been otherwise, the universe must neces- \nsarily in the course of ages have been reduced to a \nstate of rest, or at least to a state not sensibly differing \nfrom it. If the earth\'s motion, round its axis, had \nslackened by a very small quantity, for instance, by a \nhundredth of a second in a revolution, and in this \nproportion contmued, the day would have been already \nlengthened by six hom\'s in the 6000 years vfhich have \nelapsed since the history of the world began ; and if we \nsuppose a longer period to precede or to follow, the day \nmight be increased to a month or to any length. All \nthe adaptations which depend on the length of the day, \nwould consequently be deranged. But this would not \n\n\n\n204 \n\n\n\nCOSMICAL ARRANGEMENTS. \n\n\n\nbe all ; for tlie same law of motion is equally requisite \nfor the preservation of tlie annual motion of the earth. \nIf her motion were retarded by the establishment of \nany other law instead of the existing one, she would \nwheel nearer and nearer to the sun at every revolution, \nand at last reach the centre, hke a falling hoop. The \nsame would happen to the other planets ; and the whole \nsolar system would, in the course of a certain period, \nbe gathered into a heap of matter without life or \nmotion. In the present state of things on the other \nhand, the system, as we have already explained, is, by \na combination of remarkable provisions, calculated for \nan almost indefinite existence, of undiminished fitness \nfor its purposes. \n\nThere are, therefore, manifest reasons, why, of all \nlaws which could occupy the place of the first law of \nmotion, the one which now obtains is the only one \nconsistent witli the durability and uniformity of the \nsystem ; \xe2\x80\x94 the one, therefore, which we may naturally \nconceive to be selected by a wise contriver. And as, \nalong with this, it has appeared that we have no sort of \nright to attribute the establishment of this law to any- \nthmg but selection, we have here a striking evidence of \ndesign, suited to lead us to a perception of that Divine \nmind, by which means so simple are made to answer \npurposes so extensive and so beneficial. \n\n\n\nPEICTIOX. \n\n\n\n205 \n\n\n\nChap. XII. \xe2\x80\x94 Friction.^ \n\nWe sliall not pursue this argument of the last chapter, \nby considering the other laws of motion in the same \nmanner as we have there considered the first, which \nmight be done. But the facts which form exceptions \nand apparent contradictions to the first law of which \nwe have been treating, and which are very numerous, \noffer, we conceive, an additional exempUfication of \nthe same argument; and this we shall endeavour to \nillustrate. \n\nThe rule that a body natui^ally moves for ever with \nan undiminished speed, is so far from bemg obviously \ntrue, that it appears on a first examination to be mani- \nfestly false. The hoop of the school-boy, left to itself, \nruns on a short distance, and then stops ; his top spins \na little while, but finally flags and falls ; all motion on \nthe earth appears to decay by its own nature ; all \nmatter which we move appears to have a perpetual \ntendency to divest itself of the velocity which we com- \nmunicate to it. How is this reconcilable with the first \nlaw of motion on which we have been insisting ? \n\nIt is reconciled principally by considering the effect \nof Friction. Among terrestrial objects friction exerts \nan agency almost as universal and constant as the laws \n\n* Though Friction is not obviously concerned in any cosmical \nphenomena, we have thought this the proper place to introduce the \nconsideration of it ; since the contrast between the cases in which it \ndoes act; and those in which it does not, is best illustrated by a com- \nparison of cosmical with terrestrial motions. \n\n\n\n206 \n\n\n\nCOSMICAL AEEANGEMENTS. \n\n\n\nof motion themselves ; an agency which completely \nchanges and disguises the results of those laws. We \nshall consider some of these effects. \n\nIt is probably not necessary to explain at any length \nthe nature and operation of friction. When a body \ncannot move without causing two surfaces to rub toge- \nther, this rubbing has a tendency to diminish the body\'s \nmotion or to prevent it entirely. If the body of a car- \nriage be placed on the earth without the wheels, a \nconsiderable force will be requisite in order to move \nit at all : it is here the friction against the ground \nwhich obstructs the motion. If the carriage be placed \non its wheels, a much less force will move it, but if \nmoved it will soon stop : it is the friction at the ground \nand at the axles which stops it : placed on a level rail- \nroad, with well made and well oiled wheels, and once \nput in motion, it might run a considerable distance \nalone, for the friction is here much less ; but there is \nfriction, and therefore the motion would after a time \ncease. \n\nThe same kmd of action between the surfaces of two \nbodies which retards and stops their motions when \nthey move touching each other, will also prevent their \nmoving at all, if the force which urges them into \nmotion be insufficient to overcome the resistance which \nthe contact of the surfaces produces. Friction, as \nwriters on mechanics use the term, exists not only \nwhen the surfaces rub against each other, but also \nwhen the state of tilings is such that they would rub if \nthey did move. It is a force which is called into \naction by a tendency to move, and which forbids \n\n\n\nFRICTION. \n\n\n\n307 \n\n\n\nmotion ; it may be likened to a chain of a certain \nforce wMcli binds bodies in their places ; and we may \npush or pull the bodies without moving them, except \nwe exert a sufficient force to break this imaginary \nchain. \n\nI. The friction which we shall principally consider \nis the friction which prevents motion. So employed, \nfriction is one of the most universal and important \nagents in the mechanism of our daily comforts and \noccupations. It is a force which is called into play \nto an extent incomparably greater than all the other \nforces with which we are concerned in the course of our \ndaily life. We are dependent upon it at every instant \nand in every action : and it is not possible to enumerate \nall the ways in which it serves us ; scarcely even to \nsuggest a sufficient number of them to give us a true \nnotion of its functions. \n\nWhat can appear more simple operations than \nstanding and walking ? yet it is easy to see that without \nthe aid of friction these simple actions would scarcely \nbe possible. Every one knows how difficult and dan- \ngerous they are when performed on smooth ice. In such \na situation we cannot always succeed in standing : if the \nice be very smooth, it is by no means easy to walk, \neven when the surface is perfectly level ; and if it were \never so little inclined, no one would make the attempt. \nYet walldng on the ice and on the ground differ only \nin our experiencing more friction in the latter case. \nWe say more, for there is a considerable friction even \nin the case of ice, as we see by the small distance which \na stone slides when thrown along the surface. It is \n\n\n\n208 \n\n\n\nCOSMICAL ARRANGEMENTS. \n\n\n\nthis friction of the earth which, at every step we take, \nprevents the foot from shding back ; and thus allows \nus to push the body and the other foot forwards. And \nwhen we come to violent bodily motions, to running, \nleaping, pulling or pushing objects, it is easily seen how \nentirely we depend upon the friction of the ground for \nour strength and force. Every one knows how com- \npletely powerless we become in any of these actions by \nthe foot slipping. \n\nIn the same manner it is the friction of objects to \nwhich the hand is applied, which enables us to hold \nthem with any degree of firmness. In some contests \nit was formerly the custom for the combatants to rub \ntheir bodies with oil, that the adversary might not be \nable to keep his grasp. If the pole of the boatman, \nthe rope of the sailor, were thus smooth and lubricated, \nhow weak would be the thrust and the pull ! Yet this \nwould only be the removal of friction. \n\nOur buildings are no less dependent on this force \nfor their stability. Some edifices are erected without \nthe aid of cement : and if the stones be large and well \nsquared, such structures may be highly substantial and \ndurable ; even when rude and slight, houses so built \nanswer the piu-poses of life. These are entirely upheld \nby friction, and without the support of that agent they \nwould be thrown down by the zephyr, far more easily \nthan if all the stones were lumps of ice with a thawing \nsurface. But even in cases where cement hinds the \nmasonry, it does not take the duty of holding it toge- \nther. In consequence of the existence of friction, there \nis no constant tendency of the stones to separate ; they \n\n\n\nFRICTION. \n\n\n\n209 \n\n\n\nare in a state of repose. If tliis were not so, if every \nshock and every breeze required to be counteracted by \nthe cement, no composition exists which would long \nsustain such a wear and tear. The cement excludes \nthe corroding elements, and helps to resist extraordi- \nnary violence; but it is friction which gives the habitual \nstate of rest. \n\nWe are not to consider friction as a small force, \nslightly modifying the effects of other agencies. On \nthe contrary its amount is in most cases very gTeat. \nWhen a body lies loose on the gTound, the friction is \nequal to one third or one half, or in some cases the \nwhole, of its weight. But in cases of bodies supported \nby oblique pressure, the amount is far more enormous. \nIn the arch of a bridge, the friction which is called \nmto play between two of the vaulting stones, may be \nequal to the whole weight of the bridge. In such \ncases this conservative force is so great, that the \ncommon theory, which neglects it, does not help us \neven to guess what will take place. According to the \ntheory, certain forms of arches only will stand; but \nin practice almost any form will stand, and it is not \neasy to construct a model of a bridge which will fall. \n\nWe may see the great force of friction in the hrake^ \nby which a large weight running down a long inclined \nplane has its motion moderated and stopped ; in the \nwindlass, where a few coils of the rope round a cylinder \nsustain the stress and weight of a large iron anchor ; \nin the nail or screw which holds together large beams ; \nin the mode of raising large blocks of granite by an \niron rod driven into a hole in the stone. Probably \n\n\n\n210 \n\n\n\nCOSMICAL ARRANGEMENTS. \n\n\n\n110 greater forces are exercised in any processes in the \narts than the force of friction ; and it is always em- \nployed to produce rest, stability, moderate motion. \nBeing always ready and never wearied, always at hand \nand augmenting with the exigency, it regulates, con- \ntrols, subdues all motions ; \xe2\x80\x94 counteracts all other \nagents ; \xe2\x80\x94 and finally gains the mastery over all other \nterrestrial agencies, however violent, frequent, or long \ncontinued. Tlie perpetual action of all other terrestrial \nforces appears, on a large scale, only as so many inter- \nruptions of the constant and stationary rule of friction. \n\nThe objects which every where surround us, the \nbooks or dishes which stand on our tables, om* tables \nand chairs themselves, the loose clods and stones in \nthe field, the heaviest masses produced by nature or \nart, would be in a perpetual motion, quick or slow \naccording to the forces which acted on them, and to \ntheir size, if it were not for the tranquilHsing and \nsteadying effects of the agent we are considering. \nWithout this, our apartments, if they kei^t their shape, \nwould exhibit to us articles of furniture, and of all \nother kinds, sliding and creeping from side to side at \nevery push and every wind, like loose objects in a \nship\'s cabin, when she is changing her course in a gale. \n\nHere, then, we have a force, most extensive and \nincessant in its operation, which is absolutely essen- \ntial to the business of tliis terrestrial world, according \nto any notion which we can form. The more any one \nconsiders its effects, the more he will find how univer- \nsally dependent he is upon it, in every action of his \nlife; resting or moving, dealing with objects of art \n\n\n\nPRICTION. \n\n\n\n211 \n\n\n\nor of nature, with instruments of enjoyment or of \naction. \n\nII, Now we have to observe concerning this agent, \nFriction, that we have no ground for asserting it to be \na necessary result of other properties of matter, for \ninstance, of their solidity and coherency. Philosophers \nhave not been able to deduce the laws of friction from \nthe other known properties of matter, nor even to \nexplain what we know experimentally of such laws, \n(which is not much,) without introducing new hypo- \ntheses concerning the surfaces of bodies, &c. \xe2\x80\x94 hypotheses \nwhich are not supplied us by any other set of pheno- \nmena. So far as our knowledge goes, friction is a \nseparate property, and may be conceived to have been \nbestowed upon matter for particular purposes. How \nweU it answers the purpose of fitting matter for the \nuses of the daily life of man, we have already seen. \n\nWe may make suppositions as to the mode in which \nfriction is connected with the texture of bodies ; but \nlittle can be gained for philosophy, or for speculation \nof any kind, by such conjectures respecting unknown \nconnexions. If, on the other hand, we consider this \nproperty of friction, and find that it prevails there, \nand there only, where the general functions, analogies, \nand relations of the universe require it, we shall \nprobably receive a strong impression that it was intro- \nduced into the system of the world for a purpose. \n\nIII. It is very remarkable that this force, which is \nthus so efiicacious, and discharges such important \nof&ces in all earthly mechanism, disappears altogether \nwhen we turn to the mechanism of the heavens. AU \n\np 2 \n\n\n\nCOSMICAL AERANGEMENTS. \n\n\n\nmotions on the earth soon stop ; \xe2\x80\x94 a macfime which \nimitates the movements of the stars cannot go long \nwithout winding up : but the stars themselves have \ngone on in their courses for ages, with no diminution \nof their motions, and offer no obvious prospect of an}- \nchange. This is so palpable a fact, that the first \nattempts of men to systematise their mechanical notions \nwere founded upon it. The ancients held that motions \nwere to be distinguished into natural motions and \nviolent, \xe2\x80\x94 the former go on without diminution \xe2\x80\x94 the \nlatter are soon extinguished ; \xe2\x80\x94 the motions of the stars \nare of the former kind ; \xe2\x80\x94 those of a stone thrown, and \nin short all terrestrial motions, of the latter. Modern \nPhilosophers maintain that the laws of motion are the \nsame for celestial and terrestrial bodies; \xe2\x80\x94 that all \nmotions are natural according to the above description; \nbut that in terrestrial motions, friction comes in and \nalters their character, \xe2\x80\x94 destroys them so speedily that \nthey appear to have existed only during an effort. And \nthat this is the case will not now be contested. Is it \nnot then somewhat remarkable that the same laws \nwhich produce a state of permanent motion in the \nheavens, should, on the earth, give rise to a condition \nin w^hich rest is the rule and motion the exception ? \nThe air, the waters, and the lighter portions of matter \nare, no doubt, in a state of perpetual movement ; over \nthese friction has no empire : yet even their motions \nare interrupted, alternate, variable, and on the whole \nslight deviations from the condition of equilibrium. \nBut in the solid parts of the globe, rest predominates \nincomparably over motion : and this, not only with \n\n\n\nPEICTION. \n\n\n\n213 \n\n\n\nregard to the portions which cohere as parts of the \nsame solid ; for the whole surface of the earth is \ncovered with loose masses, which, if the power of \nniction were abohshed, would rush from their places \nand begin one universal and interminable dance, which \nwould make the earth absolutely uninhabitable. \n\nIf, on the other hand, the dominion of friction were \nextended in any considerable degree into the planetarj^ \nspaces, there would soon be an end of the system. If \nthe planet had moved in a fluid, such as the Cartesians \nsupposed, and if tins fluid had been subject to the \nrules of friction which prevail in terrestrial fluids, their \nmotions could not have been of long duration. The \nsolar system must soon have ceased to be a system of \nrevolving bodies. \n\nBut friction is neither abolished on the earth, nor \nactive in the heavens. It operates where it is w^anted, \nit is absent where it would be prejudicial. And both \nthese circumstances occasion, in a remarkable manner, \nthe steadiness of the course of nature. The stable \ncondition of the objects in man\'s immediate neigh- \nbom\'hood, and the unvarying motions of the luminaries \nof heaven, are alilve conducive to his well-being. This \nrequii-es that he should be able to depend upon a fixed \norder of place, a fixed course of time. It requires;, \ntherefore, that terrestrial objects should be affected b}\' \nfriction, and that celestial should not ; as is the case, in \nfact. What further evidence of benevolent design could \nthis part of the constitution of the universe supply ? \n\nIV. There is another view which may be taken \nof the forces which operate on the earth to produce \n\n\n\n214 \n\n\n\nCOSMIC AL AEEANGEMENTS. \n\n\n\npermanency or change. Some parts of the terrestrial \nsystem are under the dominion of powers which act \nenergetically to prevent all motion, as the crystalline \nforces hy which the x^arts of rocks are bound together ; \nother parts are influenced by powers vv^hich produce a \nperpetual movement and change in the matter of which \nthe}^ consist ; thus plants and animals are in a constant \nstate of internal motion, by the agency of the vital \nforces. In the former case rigid immutability, in the \nlatter perpetual development, are the tendencies of the \nagencies employed. Now in the case of objects affected \nby friction, we have a kind of intermediate condition, \nbetween the constantly fixed and the constantly move- \nable. Such objects can and do move ; but they move \nbut for a short time if left to the laws of nature. \nWhen at rest, they can easity be put in motion, but \nstill not with unlimited ease ; a certain finite effort, \ndifferent in different cases, is requisite for this purpose. \nNow this intermediate condition, this capacity of \nreceiving readily and alternately the states of rest and \nmotion, is absolutely requisite for the nature of man, \nfor the exertion of will, of contrivance, of foresight, as \nwell as for the comfort of life and the conditions of our \nmaterial existence. If all objects were fixed and im- \nmoveable, as if frozen into one mass ; or if they were \nsusceptible of such motions only as are found in the \nparts of vegetables, we attempt in vam to conceive what \nwould come of the business of the world. But, besides \nthe state of a particle which cannot be moved, and of \na particle which cannot be stopped, we have the \nstate of a particle moveable but not moved ; or moved, \n\n\n\nFEICTION. \n\n\n\n215 \n\n\n\nbut moved only while we choose : and this state \nis that about which the powers, the thoughts, and the \nwants of man are mainlj^ conversant. \n\nThus the forces b}^ which solidity and by which \norganic action are produced, the laws of permanence \nand of development, do not bring about all that happens. \nBesides these, there is a mechanical condition, that of \na body exposed to friction, which is neither one of \nabsolute permanency nor one naturall}^ progressive ; but \nis j^etone absolutely necessary to make material objects \ncapable of being instruments and aids to man; and \nthis is the condition of by far the greater part of ter- \nrestrial things. The habitual course of events with \nregard to motion and rest is not the same for familiar* \nmoveable articles, as it is for the parts of the mineral, \nor of the vegetable world, when left to themselves ; such \narticles are in a condition far better adapted than any \nof those other conditions would be, to theii\' place and \npurpose. Surely tliis shows us an adaptation, an \nadjustment, of the constitution of the material world \nto the nature of man. And as the organisation of plants \ncannot be conceived otherwise than as having their^ \nlife and growth for its object, so we cannot conceive \nthat friction should be one of the leading agencies in \nthe world in which man \'is placed, T\\ithout supposing \nthat it was intended to be of use when man should walk \nand run, and build houses and ships, and bridges, and \nexecute innumerable other processes, all of which \nwould be impossible, admirably constituted as man is \nin other respects, if friction did not exist. And beUev- \ning, as we conceive we cannot but believe, that the laws \n\n\n\n216 \n\n\n\nEELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\n\n\nof motion and rest were thus given with reference to \ntheir ends, we perceive in this instance, as in others, \nhow wide and in\'ofoimd this reference is, how simple in \nits means, how fertile in its consequences, how effective \nin its details. \n\n\n\nBOOK III. \n\n\n\nRELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\nThe contemplation of the material universe exhibits \nGod to us as the author of the laws of material nature ; \nbringing before us a wonderful spectacle, in the sim- \nplicity, the comprehensiveness, the mutual adaptation \nof these laws, and in the vast variet}^ of harmonious \nand beneficial effects produced by their mutual bearing \nand combined operation. But it is the consideration \nof the moral world, of the results of our powers of \nthought and action, which leads us to regard the Deity \nin that Light in wliicli our relation to him becomes a \nmatter of the highest interest and importance. We \nperceive that man is capable of referring his actions to \nprinciples of right and wrong ; that both his faculties \nand his virtues may be unfolded and advanced by the \ndiscipline which arises from the circumstances of human \nsociety ; that good men can be discriminated from the \nbad, only by a course of trial, by struggles with diffi- \nculty and temptation ; that the best men feel deeply \nthe need of relymg, in such conflicts, on the thought of \n\n\n\nHELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\n\n\n217 \n\n\n\na superintending Spiritual Power ; that our views of \njustice, our capacity for intellectual and moral advance- \nment, and a crowxl of hopes and anticipations which \nrise in our bosoms unsought, and cling there with \ninexhaustible tenacity, will not allow us to acquiesce \nin the behef that this life is the end of our existence. \nWe are thus led to see that our relation to the \nSuperintender of our moral being, to the Depositary \nof the supreme law of just and right, is a relation of \nincalculable consequence. We find that we cannot be \npermitted to be merely contemplators and speculators \nwith regard to the Governor of the moral world ; we \nmust obey His will ; we must turn our affections to \nHim; we must advance in His favour; or w^e offend \nagainst the nature of our position in the scheme of \nwhich He is the author and sustainer. \n\nIt is far from our purpose to represent natural \nreligion as of itself suf&cient for our support and \nguidance ; or to underrate the manner in which our \nviews of the Lord of the universe have been, much \nmore, perhaps, than we are sometimes aware, illus- \ntrated and confirmed by lights derived from revelation. \nWe do not here speak of the manner in which men \nhave come to believe in God, as the Governor of the \nmoral world ; but of the fact, that by the aid of one or \nboth of these two guides, Eeason or Revelation, re- \nflecting persons in every age have been led to such a \nbelief. And Ave conceive it may be useful to point \nout some connexion between such a belief of a just \nand holy Governor, and the conviction, which we \nhave already endeavoured to impress upon the reader, \n\n\n\n218 \n\n\n\nEELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\n\n\nof a wise and benevolent Creator of the physical world. \nThis we shall endeavour to do in the present book. \n\nAt the same time that men have thus learnt to look \nupon God as their Governor and Judge, the source of \ntheir support and reward, they have also been led, not \nonly to ascribe to him power and skill, knowledge and \ngoodness, but also to attribute to him these qualities in \na mode and degree excluding all limit : \xe2\x80\x94 to consider \nhim as almighty, allwise, of infinite knowledge and \ninexhaustible goodness ; everywhere present and active, \nbut incomprehensible by our minds, both in the manner \nof his agency, and the degree of his perfections. And \nthis impression concerning the Deity appears to be that \nwhich the mind receives from all objects of contempla- \ntion and all modes of advance towards truth. To this \nconception it leaps with alacrity and joy, and in this it \nacquiesces with tranquil satisfaction and growing confi- \ndence ; while any other view of the nature of the Divine \nPower which formed and sustained the world, is inco- \nherent and untenable, exposed to insurmomitable objec- \ntions and intolerable incongruities. We shall endeavoui\' \nto show that the modes of employment of the thoughts \nto which the well conducted study of nature gives rise, \ndo tend, in all their forms, to produce or strengthen \nthis impression on the mind ; and that such an impres- \nsion, and no other, is consistent with the wisest views \nand most comprehensive aspects of nature and of \nphilosoi)hy, which our Natural Philosophy opens to \nus. This will be the purpose of the latter part of the \npresent book. In the first place we shall -proceed, with \nthe object fii\'st mentioned, the connexion which may \n\n\n\nA MORAL GOVERNOR. \n\n\n\n219 \n\n\n\nbe perceived between the evidences of creative power, \nand of moral government, in the world. \n\nChap. I. \xe2\x80\x94 Tlie Creator of the Physical Wwld is the Governor of \nthe Moral World. \n\nWith our views of tlie moral government of the \nworld and the religious interests of man, the stud}^ of \nmaterial nature is not and cannot be directly and \nclosely connected. But it may be of some service to \ntrace m these two lines of reasoning, seemingly so \nremote, a manifest convergence to the same x3oint, a \ndemonstrable unity of result. It may be useful to \nshow that we are thus led, not to two rulers of the \nuniverse, but to one God ; \xe2\x80\x94 to make it ap^oear that the \nCreator and Preserver of the world is also the Governor \nand Judge of men ; that the Author of the Laws of \nNature is also the Author of the Law of Duty ; \xe2\x80\x94 that \nHe who regulates corporeal things by properties of \nattraction and affinity and assimilating power, is the \nsame being who regulates the actions and conditions of \nmen, by the influence of the feeling of responsibility, \nthe perception of right and wrong, the hope of happiness, \nthe love of good. \n\nThe conviction that the Divine attributes which we \nare taught by the study of the material world, and \nthose which we learn from the contemplation of man \nas a responsible agent, belong to the same Di^dne \nBeing, will be forced upon us, if we consider the \nmanner in which all the parts of the universe, the \ncorporeal and intellectual, the animal and moral, are \n\n\n\n220 \n\n\n\nEELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\n\n\nconnected with each other. In each of these provinces \nof creation we trace refined adaptations and arrange- \nments which lead us to the Creator and Director of so \nskilful a system ; but these provinces are so intermixed, \nthese different trains of contrivance so interwoveji, that \nwe cannot, in our thoughts, separate the author of one \npart from the author of another. The Creator of the \nHeavens and of the Earth, of the inorganic and of the \norganic world, of animals and of man, of the affections \nand the conscience, appears inevitably to be one and \nthe same God. \n\n"We will pursue this reflection a little more into \ndetail. \n\nI. The Atmosphere is a mere mass of fluid floating \non the surface of the ball of the earth ; it is one of the \ninert and inorganic portions of the universe, and must \nbe conceived to have been formed by the same Power \nwhich formed the solid mass of the earth and all other \nparts of the solar system. But how far is the atmos- \nphere from being inert in its effects on organic beings, \nand unconnected with the world of life ! By what \nwonderful adaptations of its mechanical and chemical \nproperties, and of the vital powers of plants, to each \nother, are the development and well-being of plants \nand animals secured ! The creator of the atmosphere \nmust have been also the creator of plants and animals : \nwe cannot for an instant believe the contrary. But the \natmosphere is not only subservient to the life of animals, \nand of man among the rest ; it is also the vehicle of \nvoice ; it answers the purpose of intercourse ; and, in \nthe case of man, of rational intercourse. We have seen \n\n\n\nA MORAL GO^^ENOR. \n\n\n\n221 \n\n\n\nhow remarkably the air is fitted for this office ; the \nconstruction of the organs of articulation, by which \nthey are enabled to perform their part of the work, is, \nas is well known, a most exquisite system of contriv- \nances. But tliough living in an atmosphere capable of \ntransmitting articulate sound, and though provided \nwith organs fitted to articulate, man would never attain \nto the use of language, if he were not also endowed with \nanother set of faculties. The powers of abstraction and \ngeneralisation, memory and reason, the tendencies \nwhich occasion the inflexions and combinations of \nwords, are all necessary to the formation and use of \nlanguage. Are not these parts of the same scheme of \nwhich the bodily faculties by which we are able to \nspeak are another part ? Has man his mental powers \nindependently of the creator of his bodily frame ? To \nwhat purpose then, or by what cause was the curious \nand complex machinery of the tongue, the glottis, the \nlarynx produced ? These are useful for speech, and \nfull of contrivances which suggest such a use as the \nend for which those organs Avere constructed. But \nspeech appears to have been no less contemplated in \nthe intellectual structure of man. The processes of \nwhich we have spoken, generalisation, abstraction, \nreasoning, have a close dependence on the use of \nspeech. These faculties are presupposed in the \nformation of language, but they are developed and \nperfected by the use of language. The mind of man \nthen, with all its intellectual endowments, is the work \nof the same artist by whose hands his bodily frame was \nfashioned ; as his bodily faculties again are evidently \n\n\n\n222 \n\n\n\nRELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\n\n\nconstructed by the maker of those elements on which \ntheir action depends. The creator of the atmosphere \nand of the material universe is the creator of the human \nmind, and the author of those wonderful powers of \nthinking, judging, inferring, discovering, by which we \nare able to reason concerning the world in which we \nare placed ; and which aid us in lifting our thoughts to \nthe source of our being himself. \n\nII. Light, or the means by which light is propagated, \nis another of the inorganic elements which forms a \nportion of the mere material world. The luminiferous \nether, if we adopt that theory, or the fluid Hght of the \ntheorj^ of emission, must indubitably pervade the \nremotest regions of the universe, and must be sup- \nposed to exist, as soon as we suppose the material \nparts of the universe to be in existence. The origin of \nlight then must be at least as far removed from us as \nthe origin of the solar system. Yet how closely con- \nnected are the properties of light with the structure of \nour own bodies ! The mechanism of the organs of \nvision and the mechanism of light are, as we have seen, \nmost curiously adapted to each other. We must sup- \npose, then, that the same power and skill produced one \nand the other of these two sets of contrivances, which \nso remarkably fit into each other. The creator of light \nis the author of our visual powers. But how small a \nportion does mere visual perception constitute of the \nadvantages which we derive from vision ! We possess \n.ulterior faculties and capacities by which sight becomes \na source of happiness and good to man. The sense of \nbeauty, the love of art, the pleasure arising from the \n\n\n\nA MORAL GOVERNOE. \n\n\n\n22S \n\n\n\ncontemplation of nature, are pJl dependent on the eye ; \nand we can hardly doubt that these faculties were \nbestowed on man to further the best interests of his \nbeing. The sense of beauty both animates and refines \nhis domestic tendencies ; the love of art is a powerful \ninstrument for raising him above the mere cravings \nand satisfactions of his animal nature ; the expansion \nof mind which rises in us at the sight of the starry sky, \nthe cloud-capt mountain, the boundless ocean, seems \nintended to direct our thoughts by an impressive \nthough indefinite feeluig, to the Infinite Author of \nAll. But if these faculties be thus part of the scheme \nof man\'s inner being, given him by a good and wise \ncreator, can we suppose that this creator was any \nother than the creator also of those visual organs, \nwithout which the faculties could have no operation \nand no existence ? As clearly as light and the eye are \nthe work of the same author, so clearly also do our \ncapacities for the most exalted visual pleasures, and the \nfeelings flowing from them, proceed from the same \nDivine Hand, by which the mechanism of light was \nconstructed. \n\nIII. The creator of the earth must be conceived to \nbe the author also of all those qualities in the soil, \nchemical and whatever else, by which it supports \nvegetable life, under aU the modifications of natural \nand artificial condition. Among the attributes which \nthe earth thus possesses, there are some which seem to \nhave an especial reference to man in a state of society. \nSuch are the power of the earth to increase its produce \nunder the influence of cultivation, and the necessary \n\n\n\n224 RELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\nexistence of property in land, in order that this culti- \nvation may be advantageously applied ; the rise, under \nsuch circumstances, of a surplus produce, of a quantity \nof subsistence exceeding the wants of the cultivators \nalone ; and the consequent possibility of inequalities of \nrank and of all the arrangements of civil society. \nThese are all parts of the constitution of the earth. \nBut these would all remain mere idle possibilities, if \nthe nature of man had not a corresponding direction. \nIf man had not a social and economical tendency, a \ndisposition to congregate and co-operate, to distribute \npossessions and offices among the members of the com- \nmunity, to make and obey and enforce laws, the earth \nwould in vain be ready to respond to the care of the \nhusbandman. Must we not then suppose that this \nattribute of the earth was bestowed upon it by Him \nwho gave to man those corresponding attributes, \nthrough which the apparent niggardhness of the soil \nis the source of general comfort and security, of polity \nand law ? Must we not suppose that He who created \nthe soil, also inspired man with those social desires \nand feelings which produce cities and states, laws and \ninstitutions, arts and civilisation ; and that thus the \napparently inert mass of earth is a part of the same \nscheme as those faculties and powers with which man\'s \nmoral and intellectual progress is most connected ? \n\nIV. Again : \xe2\x80\x94 It will hardly be questioned that the \nauthor of the material elements is also the author of the \nstructure of animals, which is adapted to and provided \nfor by the constitution of the elements in such innu- \nmerable ways. But the author of the bodily structure \n\n\n\nA MORAL GOYERNOE. \n\n\n\n225 \n\n\n\nof animals must also be the author of theii* instmcts, \nfor without these the structure would not answer its \npurpose. And these instincts frequently assume the \ncharacter of affections in a most remarkable manner. \nThe love of offspring, of home, of companions, are \noften displayed by animals, in a way that strikes the \nmost indifferent observer ; and yet these affections will \nhardly be denied to be a part of the same scheme as \nthe instincts by which the same animals seek food and \nthe gratifications of sense. Who can doubt that the \nanxious and devoted affection of the mother-bird for \nher young after they are hatched, is a part of the same \nsystem of Providence as the instinct by which she is \nimpelled to sit upon her eggs ? and this, of the same \nby which her eggs are so organised that incubation \nleads to the bii\'th of the young animal ? Nor, again, \ncan we imagine that while the structure and affections \nof animals belong to one system of things, the affec- \ntions of man, in many respects so similar to those of \nanimals, and connected with the bodily frame in a \nmanner so closely analogous, can belong to a different \nscheme. Who, that reads the touching instances of \nmaternal affection, related so often of the women of all \nnations, and of the females of all animals, can doubt \nthat the principle of action is the same in the two \ncases though enlightened in one of them by the rational \nfaculty ? And who can place in separate provinces the \nsupporting and protecting love of the father and of the \nmother ? or consider as entirely distinct from these, \nand belonging to another part of om- nature, the other \nkinds of family affection ? or disjoin man\'s love of his \n\n\n\n226 \n\n\n\nllELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\n\n\nhome, his clan, his tribe, his country, from the affection \nwhich he bears to his family ? The love of offspring, \nhome, friends, in man, is then part of the same system \nof contrivances of which bodily organisation is another \npart. And thus the author of our corporeal frame is \nalso the author of our capacity of kindness and resent- \nment, of our love and of our wish to be loved, of all the \nemotions which bind us to individuals, to our families, \nand to our kind. \n\nIt is not necessar}^ here to follow out and classify \nthese emotions and affections ; or to examine how they \nare combined and connected with our other motives of \naction, mutually giving and receiving strength and \ndirection. The desire of esteem, of powder, of know- \nledge, of society, the love of kindred, of friends, of our \ncountry, are manifestly among the main forces by which \nman is urged to act and to abstain. And as these \nparts of the constitution of man are clearly intended, \nas we conceive, to impel him in his appointed path ; so \nw^e conceive that they are no less clearly the work \nof the same great Artificer who created the heart, \nthe eye, the hand, the tongue, and that elemental \nw^orld in which, by means of these instruments, \nman pursues the objects of his appetites,\' desires, and \naffections. \n\nY. But if the Creator of the world be also the author \nof our intellectual powers, of our feeling for the beau- \ntiful and the sublime, of our social tendencies, and of \nour natural desires and affections, we shall find it im- \npossible not to ascribe also to Him the higher directive \nattributes of our nature, the conscience and the religious \n\n\n\nA MORAL GOVERNOR. \n\n\n\n227 \n\n\n\nfeeling, the reference of our actions to the rule of duty \nand to the will of God. \n\nIt would not suit the plan of the present treatise to \nenter into any detailed analysis of the connexion of \nthese various portions of our moral constitution. But \nwe may observe that the existence and universality of \nthe conception of duty and right cannot be doubted, \nhowever men may differ as to its original or derivative \nnature. All men are perpetually led to form judgments \nconcerning actions, and emotions which lead to action, \nas right or wrong : as what they ought or ought not to \ndo or feel. There is a faculty which approves and dis- \napproves, acquits or condemns the workings of our \nother faculties. Now, what shall we say of such a \njudiciary principle, thus introduced among our motives \nto action ? Shall we conceive that while the other \nsprings of action are balanced against each other by \nour Creator, this the most pervading and universal \nregulator, was no part of the original scheme ? That \n\xe2\x80\x94 while the love of animal pleasures, of power, of fame, \nthe regard for friends, the pleasure of bestowing plea- \nsure, were infused into man as influences by which his \ncourse of life was to be carried on, and his capacities \nand powers developed and exercised ; \xe2\x80\x94 this reverence \nfor a moral law, this acknowledgment of the obligation \nof duty, \xe2\x80\x94 a feeling which is everywhere found, and \nwhich may become a powerful, a predominating motive \nof action, \xe2\x80\x94 was given for no purpose, and belongs not \nto the design ? Such an opinion would be much as if \nwe should acknowledge the skill and contrivance mani- \nfested in the other parts of a ship, but should refuse to \n\nQ 2 \n\n\n\n228 \n\n\n\nllELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\n\n\nrecognise the rudder as exhibiting any evidence of a \npurpose. Without the reverence which the opinion of \nright inspires, and the scourge of general disapprobation \ninflicted on that which is accounted wicked, society \ncould scarcely go on; and certainly the feelings and \nthoughts and characters of men could not be what they \nare. Those impulses of nature which involve no \nacknowledgment of responsibility, and the play and \nstruggle of interfering wishes, might preserve the \nspecies in some shape of existence, as we see in the \ncase of brutes. But a person must be strangely con- \nstituted, who, living amid the respect for law, the \nadmiration for wliat is good, the order and virtues \nand graces of civilised nations, (all which have their \norigin in some degree in the feehng of responsibility) \ncan maintain that all these are casual and extraneous \ncircumstances, no way contemplated in the formation \nof man ; and that a condition in which there should be \nno obligation in law, no merit in self-restraint, no \nbeauty in virtue, is equally suited to the powers and \nthe nature of man, and was equally contemplated when \nthose powers were given him. \n\nIf this supposition be too extravagant to be admitted, \nas it appears to be, it remains then that man, intended, \nas we have already seen from his structure and pro- \nperties, to be a discoursing, social being, acting under \nthe influence of affections, desires, and purposes, was \nalso intended to act under the influence of a sense of \nduty ; and that the acknowledgment of the obligation \nof a moral law is as much part of his nature, as hunger \nor thirst, maternal love or the desire of power ; that, \n\n\n\nA MORAL GOVERNOR. \n\n\n\n229 \n\n\n\ntherefore, in conceiving man as the work of a Creator, \nwe must imagine liis powers and character given him \nwith an intention on the Creator\'s part that this sense \nof duty should occupy its place in his constitution as \nan active and thinking being : and that this directive and \njudiciary principle is a part of the work of the same \nAuthor who made the elements to minister to the \nmaterial functions, and the arrangements of the world \nto occupy the individual and social affections of his \nliving creatures. \n\nThis principle of conscience, it may further be \nobserved, does not stand upon the same level as the \nother impulses of our constitution by which we are \nprompted or restrained. By its very nature and \nessence, it possesses a supremacy over all others. \n" Your obligation to obey this law is its being the law \nof your nature. That your conscience approves of and \nattests such a course of action is itself alone an \nobligation. Conscience does not only offer itself to \nshow us the way Vv^e should walk in, but it likewise \ncarries its own authority with it, that it is our natural \nguide : the guide assigned us by the author of our \nnature." * That we ought to do an action, is of itself \na sufficient and ultimate answer to the questions, \ntvhy we should do it? \xe2\x80\x94 how we are obliged to do \nit ? The conviction of duty implies the soundest \nreason, the strongest obligation, of which our nature \nis susceptible. \n\nWe appear then to be using only language which is \nwell capable of being justified, when we speak of this \n\n* Butler, Serm. 3. \n\n\n\n230 \n\n\n\nIIELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\n\n\nirresistible esteem for what is right, this conviction of \na rule of action extending bej^ond the gratification of \nour irreflective impulses, as an impress stamped upon \nthe human mind by the Deity himself; a trace of His \nnature; an indication of His will; an announcement \nof His purpose ; a promise of His favour ; and though \nthis faculty may need to be confirmed and unfolded, \ninstructed and assisted by other aids, it still seems \nto contain in itself a sufficient intimation that the \nhighest objects of man\'s existence are to be attained, \nby means of a direct and intimate reference of his \nthottghts and actions to the Divine Author of his being. \n\nSuch then is ihe Deity to which the researches of \nNatural Theology point ; and so far is the train of \nreflections in which we have engaged, from being \nmerely speculative and bai\'ren. With the material \nworld we cannot stop. If a superior Intelligence have \nordered and adjusted the succession of seasons and the \nstructure of the plants of the field, we must allow far \nmore than this at first sight would seem to impty. \nWe must admit still greater powers, still higher wisdom \nfor the creation of the beasts of the forest with their \nfaculties ; and higher wisdom still and more transcen- \ndent attributes, for the creation of man. And when we \nreach this point, we find that it is not knowledge only, \nnot power only, not foresight and beneficence alone, \nwhich we must attribute to the Maker of the World ; \nbut that we must consider him as the author, in us, of \na reverence for moral purity and rectitude ; and, if the \nauthor of such emotions in us, how can we conceive of \nHim otherwise, than that these qualities are parts of \n\n\n\nVASTNESS OF THE TJNIVEESE. \n\n\n\n231 \n\n\n\nMs nature ; and that He is not only wise and great, \nand good, incomparably beyond our highest concep- \ntions, but also conformed in his purposes to the rule \nwhich He thus impresses upon us, that is, Holy in \nthe highest degree which we can image to ourselves as \npossible. \n\nCHAr, II. \xe2\x80\x94 On the Vastness of the Universe. \n\nI. The aspect of the world, even without any of the \npeculiar lights which science throws upon it, is fitted \nto give us an idea of the greatness of the power by \nwhich it is directed and governed, far exceeding any \nnotions of power and greatness which are suggested by \nany other contemplation. The number of human \nbeings who surround us \xe2\x80\x94 the various conditions requi- \nsite for their life, nutrition, well-being, all fulfilled ; \xe2\x80\x94 \nthe wa}^ in which these conditions are modified, as we \npass in thought to other countries, by climate, tempera- \nment, habit ; \xe2\x80\x94 the vast amount of the human population \nof the globe thus made up ; yet man himself but one \namong almost endless tribes of animals ; \xe2\x80\x94 the forest, \nthe field, the desert, the air, the ocean, all teeming \nwith creatures whose bodily wants are as carefulty pro- \nvided for as liis : \xe2\x80\x94 the sun, the clouds, the winds, all \nattending, as it were, on these organised beings ; \xe2\x80\x94 a \nhost of beneficent energies, unwearied by time and \nsuccession, pervading every corner of the earth ; \xe2\x80\x94 this \nspectacle cannot but give the contemplator a lofty and \nmagnificent conception of the Author of so vast a work, \nof the Ruler of so wide and rich an empire, of the \nProvider for so many and varied wants, the Director \n\n\n\n232 \n\n\n\nRELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\n\n\nand Adjuster of such complex and jarring inte- \nrests. \n\nBut when we take a more exact view of this spectacle, \nand aid our vision by the discoveries which have been \nmade of the structure and extent of the universe, the \nimpression is incalculably increased. \n\nThe number and variety of animals, the exquisite \nskill displayed in their structure, the comprehensive \nand profound relations by wdiich they are connected, \nfar exceed any thing which we could have beforehand \nimagined. But the view of the universe expands also \non another side. The earth, the globular body thus \ncovered with life, is not the only globe in the universe. \nThere are, circling about our own sun, six others, so \nfar as we can judge, perfectly analogous in their nature : \nbesides our moon and other bodies analogous to it. \nNo one can resist the temptation to conjecture, that \nthese globes, some of them much larger than our own, \nare not dead and barren; \xe2\x80\x94 that they are, like ours, \noccupied with organisation, life, intelligence. To con- \njecture is all that we can do, yet even by the perception \nof such a possibility, our view of the domain of nature \nis enlarged and elevated. The outermost of the \nplanetary globes of which we have spoken is so far \nfrom the sun, that the central luminary must appear to \nthe inhabitants of that planet, if any there are, no larger \nthan Yenus does to us ; and the length of their year \nwill be eighty-two of ours. \n\nBut astronomy carries us still onwards. It teaches \nus that, with the exception of the planets already men- \ntioned, the stars which we see have no immediate \n\n\n\nVASTNESS OP THE UNIVERSE. \n\n\n\n233 \n\n\n\nrelation to our system. The obvious supiDOsition is \nthat they are of the nature and order of our sun : the \nminuteness of their apparent magnitude agrees, on this \nsupposition, with the enormous and almost inconceiv- \nable distance which, from all the measurements of \nastronomers, we are led to attribute to them. If then, \nthese are suns, they may, lilve our sun, have planets \nrevolving round them ; and these may, like our planet, \nbe the seats of vegetable and animal and rational life : \n\xe2\x80\x94 we may thus have in the universe worlds, no one \nknows how many, no one can guess how varied ; \xe2\x80\x94 but \nhowever many, however varied, they are still but so \nmany provinces in the same empire, subject to common \nrules, governed by a common power. \n\nBut the stars which we see with the naked eye are \nbut a very small portion of those which the telescope \nunveils to us. The most imperfect telescope will \ndiscover some that are invisible without it ; the very \nbest instrument perhaps does not show us the most \nremote. The number of stars which crowd some parts \nof the heavens is truly marvellous : Dr. Herschel \ncalculated that a portion of the milky way, about \n10 degrees long and 24 broad, contained 258,000. In \na sky so occupied the moon would eclipse 2000 of such \nstars at once. \n\nWe learn too from the telescope that even in this \nprovince the variety of nature is not exhausted. Not \nonly do the stars differ in colour and appearance, but \nsome of them grow periodically fainter and brighter, as \nif they were dark on one side, and revolved on their \naxes. In other cases two stars appear close to each \n\n\n\n234 \n\n\n\nRELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\n\n\nother, and in some of these cases it has been clearly \nestablished, that the two have a motion of revolution \nabout each other ; thus exhibiting an arrangement new \nto the astronomer, and giving rise, possibly, to new \nconditions of worlds. In other instances, again, the \ntelescope show^s, not luminous points, but extended \nmasses of dilute light, like bright clouds, hence called \nnehulcE. Some have supposed (as we have noticed in \nthe last book) that such nebulse by further condensation \nmight become suns ; but for such opinions we have \nnothing but conjecture. Some stars again have under- \ngone permanent changes ; or have absolutely disap- \npeared, as the celebrated star of 1573, in the constella- \ntion Cassiopeia. \n\nIf we take the whole range of created objects in our \nown system, from the sun down to the smallest animal- \ncvile, and suppose such a system, or something in some \nway analogous to it, to be repeated for each of tlie \nmillions of stars which the telescope reveals to us, we \nobtaui a representation of the material universe; at \nleast a representation which to many persons appears \nthe most probable one. And if we contemplate this \naggregate of systems as the w^ork of a Creator, which \nin our own system we have found ourselves so irre- \nsistibly led to do, we obtain a sort of estimate of the \nextent through which his creative energy may be traced, \nby taking the widest view of the universe wliich our \nfaculties have attained. \n\nIf we consider further the endless and admirable \ncontrivances and adaptations which philosophers and \nobservers have discovered in every portion of our own \n\n\n\nVASTNESS OF THE UNIVERSE. \n\n\n\n235 \n\n\n\nsystem ; every new step of our knowledge showing us \nsomething new in this respect ; and if we combine this \nconsideration with the thought how small a portion of \nthe universe our knowledge includes, we shall, without \nbeing able at all to discern the extent of the skill and \nwisdom displayed in the creation, see something of the \ncharacter of the design, and of the copiousness and \namplenesss of the means which the scheme of the world \nexhibits. And when we see that the tendency of all \nthe arrangements which we can comprehend is to sup- \nport the existence, to develope the faculties, to promote \nthe well-being of these countless species of creatures ; \nwe shall have some impression of the beneficence and \nlove of the Creator, as manifested in the physical \ngovernment of his creation. \n\nII. It is extremely difficult to devise any means of \nbringing before a common apprehension the scale \non which the universe is constructed, the enormous \nproportion which the larger dimensions bear to the \nsmaller, and the amazing number of steps from larger \nto smaller, or from small to larger, which the consider- \nation of it offers. The following comparative repre- \nsentations may serve to give the reader to whom the \nsubject is new some idea of these steps. \n\nIf we suppose the earth to be represented by a globe \na foot in diameter, the distance of the sun from the \nearth will be about two miles ; the diameter of the sun, \non the same supposition, will be something above one \nhundred feet, and consequently liis bulli such as might \nbe made up of two hemispheres, each about the size of \nthe dome of St. Paul\'s. The moon will be thirty feet \n\n\n\n236 \n\n\n\nRELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\n\n\nfrom us, and lier diameter three inches, about that of a \ncricket ball. Thus the sun would much more than \noccupy all the space within the moon\'s orbit. On the \nsame scale, Jupiter w^ould be above ten miles from the \nsun, and Uranus forty. We see then how thinly \nscattered through space are the heavenly bodies. The \nfixed stars would be at an unknown distance, but, j^ro- \nbably, if all distances were thus diminished, no star \nwould be nearer to such a one -foot earth, than the \nmoon now is to us. \n\nOn such a terrestrial globe the highest mountains \nwould be about l-80th of an inch high, and consequently \nonly just distinguishable. We may imagine therefore \nhow imperceptible w^ould be the largest animals. The \nwdiole organised covering of such an earth would be \nquite undiscoverable by the eye, except perhaps by \ncolour, like the bloom on a j^lum. \n\nIn order to restore the earth and its inhabitants to \ntheir true dimensions, we must magnify the length, \nbreadth, and thickness of every part of our supposed \nmodels forty millions of times ; and to preserve the \nproportions, we must increase equally the distances of \nthe sun and of the stars from us. They seem thus to \npass off into mfinity ; yet each of them thus removed, \nhas its system of mechanical and perhaps of organic \nprocesses going on upon its surface. \n\nBut the arrangements of organic life which we can see \nwith the naked eye are few, compared with those wliich \nthe microscope detects. We know that we may mag- \nnify objects thousands of times, and still discover fresh \ncomplexities of structure ; if we suppose, therefore. \n\n\n\nVASTNESS OF THE "UNIVERSE. \n\n\n\n237 \n\n\n\nthat we thus magnify every member of the universe and \nevery particle of matter of wliich it consists ; we may \nimagine that we make perceptible to our senses the \nvast multitude of organised adaptations which lie hid \non every side of us ; and in this manner we approach \ntow^ards an estimate of the extent through which we may \ntrace the power and sldll of the Creator, by scrutmising \nhis work with the utmost subtlety of our faculties. \n\nIII. The other numerical quantities wdiich we have \nto consider in the phenomena of the universe are on as \ngigantic a scale as the distances and sizes. By the \nrotation of the earth on its axis, the parts of the equator \nmove at the rate of a thousand miles an hour, and the \nportions of the earth\'s surface wdiich are in our \nlatitude, at about six hundred. The former velocity is \nnearly that mth which a cannon ball is discharged \nfrom the mouth of a gun; but, large as it is, it is \ninconsiderable compared with the velocity of the earth \nin its orbit about the sun. This latter velocity is sixty- \nfive times the former. By the rotatory motion of the \nearth, a point of its surface is carried sometimes for- \nwards and sometimes backwards with regard to the \nannual progression; but in consequence of the great \npredommance of the annual motion in amount, the \ndiurnal scarcely affects it either way in any appreciable \ndegree. And even the velocity of the earth in her \norbit is inconsiderable compared with that of light ; \nwhich comparison, however, we shall not make ; smce, \naccording to the theory we have considered as most \nprobable, the motion of light is not a transfer of matter \nbut of motion from one part of space to another. \n\n\n\n238 \n\n\n\nEELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\n\n\nThe extent of the scale of density of different sub- \nstances has abeady been mentioned; gold is twenty \ntimes as heavy as w^ater ; air is eight hundred and \nthirty times lighter, steam eight thousand times lighter \nthan water; the luminiferous ether is incomparably \nrarer than steam : and this is true of the matter of \nlight, whether we adopt the undulatory theory or any \nother. \n\nly. The above estimates are vast in amount, and \nalmost oppressive to our faculties. They belong to the \nmeasurement of the powers which are exerted in the \nuniverse, and of the spaces through which their efficacy \nreaches (for the most distant bodies are probably con- \nnected both by gravity and light). But these estimates \ncannot be said so much to give us an}^ notion of the \npowers of the Deity, as to correct the errors we should \nfall into by supposing his powers to have any limits \nlike those which belong to our faculties : \xe2\x80\x94 by supposing \nthat numbers, and spaces, and forces, and combinations, \nwhich would overwhelm us, are any obstacle to the \narrangements which his plan requires. We can easily \nunderstand that to an intelligence surpassing ours m \ndegree only, that may be easy which is impossible to \nus. The child who cannot count beyond four, the \nsavage who has no name for any number above five, \ncannot comprehend the possibility of dealing with \nthousands and millions : yet a little additional develop- \nment of the mtellect makes such numbers conceivable \nand manageable. The difficulty which appears to \nreside in numbers and magnitudes and stages of sub- \nordination, is one produced by judging from ourselves \n\n\n\nVASTNES3 OF THE UNIVERSE. \n\n\n\n239 \n\n\n\n\xe2\x80\x94 ^by measuring with our own sounding line ; when \nthat reaches no bottom, the ocean appears unfathomable. \nYet in fact how is a hundred millions of miles a great \ndistance ? how is a hundred millions of times a great \nratio ? Not in itself ; this greatness is no qualit}^ of \nthe numbers which can be proved like their mathe- \nmatical properties ; on the contrary, all that absolutely \nbelongs to number, space, and ratio, must, we know \ndemonstrably, be equally true of the largest and the \nsmallest. It is clear that the greatness of these ex- \npressions of measure has reference to our faculties only. \nOur astonishment and embarrassment take for granted \nthe limits of our own nature. We have a tendency to \ntreat a difference of degree and of addition, as if it \nwere a difference of kind and of transformation. The \nexistence of the attributes, design, power, goodness, is \na matter depending on obvious grounds : about these \nqualities there can be no mistake : if we can know any- \nthing, we can know these attributes when we see them. \nB^t the extent, the limits of such attributes must be \ndetermined by their effects ; our knowledge of their \nlimits by what we see of the effects. Nor is any \nextent, any amount of power and goodness impro- \nbable beforehand : we know that these must be great, \nwe cannot tell how great. We should not expect \nbeforehand to find them bounded ; and therefore when \nthe boundless prospect opens before us, we may be \nbewildered, but we have no reason to be shaken in \nour conviction of the reality of the cause from which \ntheir effects proceed : we may feel ourselves incapable \nof following the train of thought, and may stop, but \n\n\n\n240 \n\n\n\nEELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\n\n\nwe have no rational motive for quitting the point \nwhich we have thus attained in tracing the Divine \nPerfections. \n\nOn the contrary, those magnitudes and proportions \nwhich leave our powers of conception far behind ; \xe2\x80\x94 that \never-expanding view which is brought before us, of the \nscale and mechanism, the riches and magnificence, the \npopulation and activity of the universe ; \xe2\x80\x94 may reason- \nably serve, not to disturb, but to enlarge and elevate \nour conceptions of the Maker and Master of all ; to \nfeed an ever-growing admiration of His wonderful \nnature ; and to excite a desire to be able to con- \ntemplate more steadily and conceive less inadequately \nthe scheme of his government and the operation of his \npower. \n\nChap. III. \xe2\x80\x94 On Mail\'s Place in the Universe. \n\nThe mere aspect of the starry heavens, without \ntaking into account the view of them to which science \nintroduces us, tends strongly to force upon man the \nimpression of his own insignificance. The vault of the \nsky arched at a vast and unknown distance over our \nheads ; the stars, apparently infinite in number, each \nkeeping its appointed place and course, and seeming \nto belong to a wide system of things wliich has no \nrelation to the earth ; while man is but one among \nmany millions of the earth\'s inhabitants; \xe2\x80\x94 all tliis \nmakes the contemplative spectator feel how exceedingly \nsmall a portion of the universe he is ; how little he \nmust be, in the eyes of an intelligence which can \nembrace the whole. Every person, in every age and \n\n\n\nman\'s place in the universe. \n\n\n\n241 \n\n\n\ncountry, will recognise as irresistibly natural tlie train \nof thought expressed by the Hebrew psalmist : " "When \nI consider the heavens, the work of thy hands \xe2\x80\x94 the \nmoon and the stars which thou hast ordained \xe2\x80\x94 Lord, \nwhat is man that thou art mindful of him, or the son of \nman that thou regardest him ? " \n\nIf this be the feehng of the untaught person, when \nhe contemplates the aspect of the skies, such as they \noffer themselves to a casual and unassisted glance, the \nimpression must needs be incalculably augmented, \nwhen we look at the universe with the aid of astrono- \nmical discovery and theory. We then find, that a few \nof the shining points which we see scattered on the \nface of the sky in such profusion, appear to be of the \nsame nature as the earth, and may perhaps, as analogy \nwould suggest, be like the earth, the habitations of \norganised beings; \xe2\x80\x94 that the rest of "the host of \nheaven " may, by a lil^e analogy, be conjectured to be \nthe centres of similar sj^stems of revolving worlds ; \xe2\x80\x94 \nthat the vision of man has gone travelling onwards, to \nan extent never anticipated, through this multitude of \nsystems, and that while m3^riads of new centres start \nup at every advance, he appears as yet not to have \nreceived any intimation of a hmit. Every person pro- \nbably feels, at first, lost, confounded, overwhelmed, \nwith the vastness of this spectacle ; and seems to him- \nself, as it were, annihilated by the magnitude and \nmultitude of the objects which thus compose the \nuniverse. The distance between him and the Creator \nof the world appears to be increased beyond measure \nby this disclosure. It seems as if a single individual \n\n\n\n242 \n\n\n\nEELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\n\n\ncould liave no chance and no claim for the regard of , \nthe Euler of the whole. i \n\nThe mode in which the belief of God\'s government \nof the physical world is important and interesting to \nman, is, as has already been said, through the con- \nnexion which this belief has with the conviction of \nGod\'s government of the moral world; this latter \ngovernment being, from its nature, one which has a \npersonal relation to each individual, his actions and \nthoughts. It will, therefore, illustrate our subject to \nshow that this impression of the difficulty of a personal \nsupermtendence and government, exercised by the \nMaker of the world over each of his rational and free \ncreatures, is fomided upon illusory views ; and that on \nan attentive and philosophical examination of the \nsubject, such a government is in accordance with all | \nthat we can discover of the scheme and the scale of the \nuniverse. \n\nI. We may, in the first place, repeat the observation jj \nmade in the last chapter, on the confusion which some- \ntimes arises in our minds, and makes us consider the \nnumber of the objects of the Divine care as a difficulty \nin the way of its exercise. If we can conceive this \ncare employed on a million persons \xe2\x80\x94 on the population \nof a kingdom, of a city, of a street \xe2\x80\x94 there is no real \ndifficulty in supposing it extended to every planet in \nthe solar system, admitting each to be peopled as ours \nis ; nor to every part of the universe, supposing each \nstar the centre of such a system. Large numhers have \nno peculiar attributes which distinguish them from \nsmall ones ; and when we disregard the common limits \n\n\n\nMAJ^^S PLACE IN THE UNIVEESE. \n\n\n\n243 \n\n\n\nof our own faculties, wiiicli, thougli important to us, \ncan have no application to the Divine nature, it is quite \nas allowable to suppose a million millions of earths, as \none, to be under the moral government of God. \n\nII. In the next place we may remark, not only that \nno reason can be assigned why the Divine care should \nnot extend to a much greater number of individuals \nthan we at first imagine, but that in fact we know that \nit does so extend. It has been well observed, that \nabout the same time when the invention of the tele- \nscope showed us that there might be myriads of other \nworlds claiming the Creator\'s care ; the invention of \nthe microscope proved to us that there were in our own \nworld myriads of creatures, before unknown, which this \ncare w^as preserving. "While one discovery seemed to \nremove the Divine Providence further from us, the \nother gave us most strildng examples that it was far \nmore active in our neighbourhood than we had sup- \nposed : while the first extended the boundaries of God\'s \nknown kingdom, the second made its known adminis- \ntration more minute and careful. It appeared that in \nthe leaf and in the bud, in solids and in fluids, animals \nexisted hitherto unsuspected ; the apparently dead \nmasses and blank spaces of the world were found to \nswarm with Hfe. And yet, of the animals thus revealed, \nall, though unknown to us before, had never been for- \ngotten by Providence. Their structure, their vessels \nand limbs, their adaptation to their situation, their \nfood and habitations, were regulated in as beautiful \nand complete a manner as those of the largest and \napparently most favoured animals. The smallest \n\nR 2 \n\n\n\n244 \n\n\n\nRELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\n\n\ninsects are as exactly finislied, often as gaily orna- \nmented, as the most graceful beast or the birds of \nbrightest plumage. And when we seem to go out of \nthe domain of the complex animal structure with \nwhich we are familiar, and come to animals of appa- \nrently more scanty faculties, and less developed powers \nof enjoyment and action, we still find that their \nfaculties and their senses are in exact harmony with \ntheir situation and circumstances; that the wants \nwhich they have are provided for, and the powers \nwhich they possess called into activity. So that \nMtiller, the patient and accurate observer of the \nsmallest and most obscure microscopical animalcula, \ndeclares that all classes alike, those w^iich have mani- \nfest organs, and those which have not, offer a vast \nquantity of new and striking views of the animal \neconomy ; every step of our discoveries leading us to \nadmire the design and care of the Creator." We find, \ntlierefore, that the Divine Providence is, in fact, \ncapable of extending itself adequately to an imm^ense \nsuccession of tribes of beings, surpassing what we \ncan image or could previously have anticipated ; and \nthus we may feel secure, so far as analogy can secure \nus, that the mere multitude of created objects cannot \nremove us from the government and superintendence \nof the Creator. \n\nIII. We may observe further, that, vast as are the \nparts and proportions of the universe, we still appear \nto be able to perceive that it is finite ; the subordination \nof magnitudes and numbers and classes appears to have \n\n* Mtiller, Infusoria, Preface. \n\n\n\nman\'s place in the universe. \n\n\n\n245 \n\n\n\nits limits. Thus, for anytliing wliicli we can discover, \nthe sun is the largest body in the universe ; and at any \nrate, bodies of the order of the sun are the largest of \nwhich we have any evidence : we know of no substances \ndenser than gold and platinum, and it is improbable that \nany denser, or at least much denser, should ever be \ndetected : the largest animals which exist in the sea and \non the earth are almost certainly known to us. We may \nventure also to say, that the smallest animals which pos- \nsess in their structure a clear analogy with larger ones, \nhave been already seen. Many of the animals which \nthe microscope detects are as complete and complex m \ntheir organisation as those of larger size : but beyond \na certain point, they appear, as they become more \nminute, to be reduced to a homogeneity and simplicity \nof composition which almost excludes them from the \ndomain of animal life. The smallest microscopical \nobjects which can be supposed to be organic, are \npoints,* or gelatinous globules,! or threads,! in which \nno distinct organs, interior or exterior, can be dis- \ncovered. These, it is clear, cannot be considered as \nindicating an indefinite progression of animal life in a \ndescending scale of minuteness. We can, mathemati- \ncally speaking, conceive one of these animals as perfect \nand complicated in its structure as an elephant or an \neagle, but we do not find it so in nature. It appears, \non the contrary, in these objects, as if we were, at a \ncertain point of magnitude, reaching the boundaries of \nthe animal world. We need not here consider the \n\n* Monas. Miiller. Cuvier. f Volvox. \n\nX Vibrio. Miiller. Cuvier. \n\n\n\n246 \n\n\n\nEELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\n\n\nhypothesis and opmions to which these ambiguous \nobjects have given rise ; but without any theory, \nthey tend to show that the subordination of organic \nlife is finite on the side of the little as well as of the \ngreat. \n\nSome persons might perhaps imagine that a ground \nfor belie vmg the smallness of organised beings to be ii \nlimited, might be found in what we know of the consti- v. \ntution of matter. If solids and fluids consist of \nparticles of a definite, though exceeding smalhiess, \nwliich cannot further be divided or diminished, it is : \nmanifest that we have, in the smallness of these par- || \ntides, a limit to the possible size of the vessels and \norgans of animals. The fluids wliich are secreted, and \nwhich circulate in the body of a mite, must needs con- \nsist of a vast number of particles, or they would not be \nfluids : and an animal might be so much smaller than \na mite, that its tubes could not contain a suflicient col- \nlection of the atoms of matter, to carry on its functions. \nWe should, therefore, of necessity reach a limit of i \nminuteness in organic life, if we could demonstrate ] \nthat matter is composed of such indivisible atoms. We ^ \nshall not, however, build anything on this argument ; \nbecause, though the atomic theory is sometimes said to g \nbe proved, what is proved is, that chemical and other I\'l \neffects take place as if they were the aggregate of the \neffects of certain particles of different elements, the 4 \njoroportions of Avhich particles are fixed and definite; \nbut that any limit can be assigned to the smallness of \nthese particles, has never yet been made out. We \nprefer, therefore, to rest the -proof of the finite extent of \n\n\n\nMAx\'s PLACE IN THE UNIVERSE. \n\n\n\n247 \n\n\n\nanimal life, as to size, on the microscopical observations \nprevioiisl}^ referred to. \n\nProbably we cannot yet be said to have reached the \nlimit of the universe with the power of our telescoj)es ; \nthat is, it does not appear that telescopies have yet been \nused, so powerful in exhibiting small stars, that we can \nassume that more powerful instruments would not dis- \ncover new stars. Whether or no, however, this degree \nof perfection has been reached, we have no proof that \nit does not exist ; if it were once obtained, we should \nhave, with some approximation, the limit of the uni- \nverse as to the number of worlds, as we have ah^eady \nendeavoured to show we have obtamed the limits with \nregard to the largeness and smallness of the inhabitants \nof our own world. \n\nIn like manner, although the discovery of new species \nin some of the kingdoms of nature has gone on recently \nwith enormous rapidit}^, and to an immense extent ; \xe2\x80\x94 \nfor instance, in botany, where the species known in the \ntime of Linnaeus were about 10,000, and are now above \n100,000 ; \xe2\x80\x94 there can be no doubt that the number of \nspecies and genera is really limited ; and though a \ngreat extension of om- knowledge is required to reach \nthese limits, it is oui* ignorance merely, and not their \nnon-existence, which removes them from us. \n\nIn the same way it would appear that the universe, \nso far as it is an object of our Imowledge, is finite in \nother respects also. Now when we have once attained \nthis conviction, all the oppressive apprehension of being \noverlooked in the government of the universe has no \nlonger any rational soui-ce. For in the superintendence \n\n\n\n248 \n\n\n\nRELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\n\n\nof a finite S3^stem of things, what is there which can \nappear difficult or overwhelming to a Being such as we \nmust, from what we know, conceive the Creator to be ? \nDifficulties arising from space, number, gradation, are \nsuch as w^e can conceive ourselves capable of overcoming, \nmerely by an extension of our present faculties. Is it \nnot then easy to imagine that such difficulties must \nvanish before Him who made us and our faculties ? \nLet it be considered how enormous a proportion the \nlargest work of man bears to the smallest ; \xe2\x80\x94 the great \npyramid to the point of a needle. This comparison \ndoes not overwhelm us, because we know that man has \nmade both. Yet the difference between this proportion \nand that of the sun to the claw of a mite, does not at all \ncorrespond to the difference which we must suppose \nto obtain between the Creator and the creature. It \nappears then that, if the first flash of that view of the \nuniverse which science reveals to us, does sometimes \ndazzle and bewilder men, a more attentive examination \nof the prospect, by the light w^e thus obtain, shows us \nhow unfounded is the despair of our being the objects \nof Divine Providence, how absurd the persuasion that \nwe have discovered the universe to be too large for its \nruler. \n\nlY. Another ground of satisfactory reflection, having \nthe same tendency, is to be found in the admirable \norder and consistency, the subordination and proportion \nof parts, which we find to prevail in the universe, as \nfar as our discoveries reach. We have, it may be, a \nmultitude almost innumerable of worlds, but no symp- \ntom of crowding, of confusion, of interference. AH \n\n\n\nman\'s place in the tjniveese. \n\n\n\n249 \n\n\n\nsuch, defects are avoided by the manner in which these \nworlds are distributed into systems ; \xe2\x80\x94 these systems, \neach occupying a vast space, but yet disposed at dis- \ntances before which their own dimensions shrink into \ninsignificance ; \xe2\x80\x94 all governed by one law, yet this law \nso concentrating its operation on each system, that \neach proceeds as if there were no other, and so regu- \nlating its own effects that perpetual change produces \npermanent uniformit}^ This is the kind of harmonious \nrelation which we perceive in that part of the universe, \nthe mechanical part namely, the laws of which are best \nknown to us. In other provinces, where our knowledge \nis more imperfect, we can see glimpses of a similar \nvastness of combination, producing, by its very nature, \ncompleteness of detail. Any analogy by which we can \nextend such views to the moral world, must be of a \nvery wide and indefinite kind ; yet the contemplation \nof this admirable relation of the arrangements of the \nphysical creation, and the perfect working of their laws, \nis well calculated to give us confidence in a similar \nbeauty and perfection in the arrangements by which \nour moral relations are directed, our higher powers \nand hopes unfolded. We may readily believe that \nthere is, in this part of the creation also, an order, a \nsubordination of some relations to others, which may \nremove all difiiculty arising from the vast multitude of \nmoral agents and actions, and make it possible that \nthe superintendence of the moral world shall be directed \nwith as exact a tendency to moral good, as that b}^ \nwhich the government of the physical world is directed \nto physical good. \n\n\n\n250 \n\n\n\nRELIGIOUS VIEWS, \n\n\n\nWe may perhaps see glimpses of such an order, in \nthe arrangements by which our highest and most \nimportant duties depend upon our relation to a small \ncircle of persons immediately around us : and again, \nin the manner in which our acting well or ill results \nfrom the operation of a few principles withm us ; as \nour conscience, our desu-e of moral excellence, and of \nthe favour of God. We can hardly consider such prin- \nciples otherwise than as intended to occupy their \nproper place in the system by which man\'s destination \nis to be determined ; and thus, as among the means of \nthe government and superintendence of God in the \nmoral world. \n\nThat there must be an order and a system to which \nsuch regulative prmciples belong, the whole analogy of \ncreation compels us to beheve. It would be strange \nindeed, if, while the mechanical world, the system of \ninert matter, is so arranged that we cannot contemplate \nits order without an elevated intellectual pleasure ; \xe2\x80\x94 \nwhile organised life has no faculties without their pro- \nper scope, no tendencies without their appointed object; \n\xe2\x80\x94 the rational faculties and moral tendencies of man \nshould belong to no systematic order, should operate \nwith no corresponding purpose : that, while the per- \nception of sweet and bitter has its acknowledged and \nimquestionable uses, the universal perception of right \nand wrong, the unconquerable belief of the merit of \ncertain feelings and actions, the craving alike after \nmoral advancement and after the means of attaining it, \nshould exist only to delude, perplex, and disappoint \nman. No one, with his contemplations calmed and \n\n\n\nMA^^\'S PLACE IN THE UNIVEUSE. 251 \n\n^ i filled and harmonised by the view of the known con- \nstitution of the universe, its machinery " wheeling \n^ unshaken " in the farthest skies and in the darkest \nI cavern, its vital spirit breathing alike effectively in the \n^ veins of the philosopher and the worm ; \xe2\x80\x94 no one, under \ns the influence of such a train of contemplations, can \nI possibly admit into his mind a persuasion which makes \n\xe2\x80\xa2 I the moral part of our nature a collection of inconsistent \nI\' j and futile impressions, of idle dreams and warring \n^ opinions, each having the same claims to our accept- \nf ance. Wide as is the distance between the material \n5 j and the moral world; imperfect as all reasonings \nnecessarily are which attempt to carry the inferences of \n1 one into the other ; elevated above the region of matter \nf as all the principles and grounds of truth must be, \n5 I which belong to our responsibilities and hopes; still \nf the astronomical and natural philosopher can hardly \n! fail to draw from their studies an imperturbable con- \nviction that our moral nature cannot correspond to \n! those representations according to which it has no law, \n; \\ coherency, or object. The mere natural reasoner may, or \n1 i must, stop far short of all that it is his highest interest \nto know, his first duty to pursue ; but even he, if he \ntake any elevated and comprehensive views of iiis own \nsubject, must escape from the opinions, as unphiloso- \nphical as they are comfortless, which would expel from \nour view of the world all reference to duty and moral \ngood, all reliance on the most universal grounds of \ntrust and hope. \n\nMen\'s belief of their duty, and of the reasons for \ns practising it, connected as it is with the conviction of a \n\n\n\n252 \n\n\n\nRELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\n\n\npersonal relation to their Maker, and of His power of \nsuperintendence and reward, is as manifest a fact in \nthe moral, as any that can be pointed out is in the \nnatural world. By the mere analogy which has been \nintimated, therefore, we cannot but conceive that this \nfact belongs in some manner or other to the order of \nthe moral world, and of its government. \n\nWhen any one acknowledges a moral governor of the \nworld ; perceives that domestic and social relations are \nperpetually operating and seem intended to operate, to \nretain and direct men in the \' path of duty ; and feels \nthat the voice of conscience, the peace of heart which \nresults from a course of virtue, and the consolations of \ndevotion, are ever ready to assume their office as our \nguides and aids in the conduct of all our actions ; \xe2\x80\x94 he \nwill probably be willing to acknowledge also that the \nmeans of a moral government of each individual are \nnot wanting; and will no longer be oppressed or \ndisturbed by the apprehension that the superin- \ntendence of the world ma}^ be too difficult for its \nKuler, and that any of His subjects and servants may \nbe overlooked. He will no more fear that the moral \nthan that the physical laws of God\'s creation should be \nforgotten in any particular case : and as he knows that \nevery sparrow which falls to the ground contains in its \nstructure innumerable marks of the Divine care and \nkindness, he will be persuaded that every man, however \napparently humble and insignificant, will have his \nmoral being dealt with according to the laws of God\'s \nwisdom and love ; will be enlightened, supported, and \nraised, if he use the appointed means which God\'s \n\n\n\nLAW IMPLIES MIND. 253 \n\nadministration of tlie world of moral light and good \noffers to his use. \n\nChap. IV. \xe2\x80\x94 On the Impression produced ly the Contemplation of Laivs \nof Nature ; or on the Conviction that Law implies Mind. \n\nThe various trains of thought and reasoning which \nlead men from a consideration of the natural world to \nthe conviction of the existence, the power, the provi- \ndence of God, do not require, for the most part, any \nlong or laboured deduction, to give them their effect on \nthe mind. On the contrary, they have, in every age \nand country, produced their impression on multitudes \nwho have not instituted any formal reasonings upon \nthe subject, and probably upon many who have not put \ntheir conclusions in the shape of any express proposi- \ntions. The persuasion of a superior intelligence and \nwill, which manifests itself in every part of the material \nworld, is, as is well known, so widely diffused and \ndeeply infixed, as to have made it a question among \nspeculative men whether the notion of such a power is \nnot universal and innate. It is our business to show \nonly how plainly and how universally such a belief \nresults from the study of the appearances about us. \nThat in many nations, in many periods, this persuasion \nhas been mixed up with much that was erroneous and \nperverse in the opinions of the intellect or the fictions \nof the fancy, does not weaken the force of such consent. \nThe belief of a supernatural and presiding power runs \nthrough all these errors : and while the perversions are \nmanifestly the work of caprice and illusion, and vanish \n\n\n\n254 \n\n\n\nRELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\n\n\nat tlie first ray of sober inquiry, the belief itself is \nsubstantial and consistent, and grows in strength upon \nevery new examination. It was the firmness and \nsolidity of the conviction of sometliing Divine which \ngave a hold and permanence to the figments of so \nmany false divinities. And those who have traced the \nprogress of human thought on other subjects, will not \nthink it strange, that while the fundamental persuasion \nof a Deity was thus irremovably seated in the human \nmind, the development of this conception into a con- \nsistent, pure, ancj steadfast belief in one Almighty and \nHoly Father and God, should be long missed, or never \nattained, by the struggle of the human faculties ; should \nrequii-e long reflection to mature it, and the aid of \nrevelation to establish it in the w^orld. \n\nThe view of the universe which we have principally \nhad occasion to i^resent to the reader, is that in which \nwe consider its appearances as reducible to certain \nfixed and general laws. Availing ourselves of some \nof the Hghts which modern science supplies, we have \nendeavoured to show that the adaptation of such laws \nto each other, and their fitness to promote the harmo- \nnious and beneficial com^se of the world, may be traced, \nwherever we can discover the laws themselves; and \nthat the conceptions of the Divine Power, Goodness \nand Superintendence which we thus form, agree in a \nremarkable manner with the views of the Supreme \nBeing, to which reason, enlightened by the divine \nrevelation, has led. \n\nBut we conceive that the general impressions of \nmankind would go further than a mere assent to the \n\n\n\nLAW IMPLIES ]MIND. \n\n\n\n255 \n\n\n\nargiimeut as we have thus stated it. To most persons \nit appears that the mere existence of a law connecting \nand governing any class of phenomena, implies a \npresiding intelHgence wliich has preconceived and \nestablished the law. When events are reg\\ilated by \nprecise rules of time and space, of number and mea- \nsure, men conceive these rules to be the evidence of \nthought and mind, even without discovering in the \nrules any peculiar adaptations, or without supposing \ntheir purpose to be known. \n\nThe origin and the validity of such an impression on \nthe human mind may appear to some matters of abstruse \nand doubtful speculation : yet the tendency to such a \nbelief prevails strongly and widely, both among the \ncommon class of minds whose thoughts are casually \nand unsystematic ally turned to such subjects, and \namong philosophers to whom laws of nature are habi- \ntual subjects of contemplation. We conceive therefore \nthat such a tendency may desei\'ve to be briefly illus- \ntrated ; and we trust also that some attention to tliis \npoint may be of service in throwing light upon the true \nrelation of the study of nature to the belief in God. \n\nI. A very shght attention shows us how readily order \nand regularity suggest to a common apprehension the \noperation of a calm and untroubled intelligence presiding \nover the com\'se of events. Thus the materialist poet, \nin accounting for the belief in the Gods, though he \ndoes not share it, cannot deny the habitual effect of \nthis manifestation. \n\nPraeterea coeli rationes ordine certo \n\nEt mria annomm cernebant tempora vorti \n\n\n\n256 \n\n\n\nRELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\n\n\nNee poterant quibus id fieret cognoscere caussis. \nErgo perfugiam sibi habebant omnia Divis \nTradere et illorum nutu facere omnia flecti. \n\nLUCRET. V. 1182. \n\nThey saw the skies in constant order run, \nThe varied seasons and the circling sun, \nApparent rule, with unapparent cause, \nAnd thus they sought in Gods the source of laws. \n\nThe same feeling may be traced in tlie early mytho- \nlogy of a large portion of the globe. We might easily, \ntaking advantage of the labours of learned men, exem- \nplify this in the case of the oriental nations of Greece, \nand of many other countries. Nor does there appear \nmuch difficulty in pointing out the error of those who \nhave maintained that all religion had its origin in the \n\xe2\x96\xa0worship of the stars and the elements ; and who have \ninsinuated that all such impressions are unfounded, \ninasmuch as these are certainly not right objects of \nhuman worship. The religious feeling, the conviction \nof a supernatural power, of an intelligence connecting \nand dii\'ecting the phenomena of the world, had not its \norigin in the worship of sun, or stars, or elements ; but \nwas itself the necessary though unexpressed foundation \nof all worship, and all forms of false, as well as true, \nreligion. The contemplation of the earth and heavens \ncalled into action this religious tendency in man ; and \nto say that the worship of the material world formed or \nsuggested this religious feeling, is to invert the order \nof possible things in the most unphilosophical manner. \nIdolatry is not the source of the belief in God, but \nis a compomid of the i)ersuasion of a supernatural \n\n\n\nLAW IMPLIES MIND. \n\n\n\n257 \n\n\n\ngovernment, with certain extravagant and baseless con- \nceptions, as to the manner in which this government \nis exercised. \n\n"We will quote a passage from an author who has \nillustrated at considerable length the hypothesis that \nall religious belief is derived from the worshij) of the \nelements. \n\n" Light, and darkness its perpetual contrast ; the \nsuccession of days and nights, the periodical order of \nthe seasons ; the career of the brilliant luminary which \nregulates their course ; that of the moon, his sister and \nrival ; night, and the innumerable fires which she \nlights in the blue vault of heaven ; the revolutions of \nthe stars, which exhibit them for a longer or a shorter \nperiod above our horizon ; the constancy of this period \nin the fixed stars, its variety in the wandering stars, \nthe planets ; their direct and retrograde course, their \nmomentary rest ; the phases of the moon waxing, full, \nwaning, divested of all light ; the progressive motion of \nthe sun upwards, downwards ; the successive order of \nthe rising and setting of the fixed stars, which mark the \ndifferent points of the course of the sun, while the \nvarious aspects which the earth itself assumes, mark, \nhere below also, the same periods of the sun\'s annual \nmotion; .... all these different pictures, displayed \nbefore the eyes of man, form the great and magnificent \nspectacle by which I suppose him surrounded at the \nmoment when he is about to create his gods\'\' * \n\nWhat is this (divested of its wanton levity of expres- \nsion) but to say, that when man has so far traced the \n\n* Dupuip, Origine des Cultes. \n\ns \n\n\n\n25S \n\n\n\nEELTGIOTJS VIEWS. \n\n\n\ncourse of nature as to be irresistibl}\' impressed with \ntlie existence of order, law, variety in constancy, and \nfixity in change ; of relations of form and space, dui\'a- \ntion and succession, cause and consequence, among the \nobjects which surround him; there springs up in his \nbreast, unbidden and irresistibly, the thought of super- \nintending intelligence \xe2\x80\x94 of a mind which comprehended \nfrom the first, and completely, that which he late and \npartially comes to know ? The worship of earth and \nsky, of the liost of heaven and the influences of nature, \nis not the ultimate and fundamental fact in the early \nhistory of the religious impressions of mankind. These \nare but derivative streams, impure and scanty, from \nthe fountain of religious feehng, wliich appears to be \ndisclosed to us by the contemplation of the universe \nas the seat of law and the manifestation of intellect. \nTime suggests to man the thought of eternity ; space, \nof infinity ; law, of intelligence ; order, of purpose ; and \nhowever difficult and long a task it may be to develope \nthese suggestions into clear convictions, these thoughts \nare the real parents of our natural religious belief. \nThe only relation between true religion and the wor- \nship of the elemental world is, that the latter is the \npartial and gross perversion, the former the consistent \nand pure developement of the same original idea. \n\nII. The connexion of the laws of the material world \nwith an intelligence wliich preconceived and instituted \nthe law, which is thus, as we perceive, so generally \nimpressed on the common apprehension of mankind, \nhas also struck no less those who have studied nature \nwith a more systematic attention, and with the peculiar \n\n\n\nLAW IMPLIES MI:ND. \n\n\n\n259 \n\n\n\nviews which belong to science. The laws which such \npersons learn and study, seem, indeed, most naturally \nto lead to the conviction of an intelligence which ori- \nginally gave to each law its form. \n\nY\\^hat we call a general law is, in truth, a form of \nexpression including a number of facts of like kind. \nThe facts are separate ; the unity of view by which we \nassociate them, the character of generality and of law, \nI resides in those relations which are the object of the \nj; intellect. The law once apprehended by us, takes in \nI our minds the place of the facts themselves, and is said \n|{ to govern or determine them, because it determines \n1 our anticipations of what they will be. But we can- \n\\ not, it would seem, conceive a law, founded on such \nj intelligible relations, to govern and determine the facts \ni| themselves, any otherwise than by supposing also an \n! intelligence by which these relations are contemplated, \njj and these consequences reahsed. We cannot then \nrepresent to ourselves the universe governed by general \ni laws, otherwise than by conceiving an intelligent and \n; conscious Deity, by wdiom these laws v,^ere originally \n; contemplated, established, and applied. \nI This perhaps will appear more clear, when it is \nconsidered that the laws of which we speak are often \nj of an abstruse and complex kind, depending upon \n! relations of space, time, number, and other properties, \nwhich we perceive by great attention and thought. \nThese relations are often combined so variously and \ncuriously, that the most subtle reasonings and calcu- \nlations which we can form are requisite, in order to \ntrace their results. Can such laws be conceived to \n\ns 2 \n\n\n\n260 \n\n\n\nllELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\n\n\n"be instituted without aii}^ exercise of knowledge and \nintelligence ? can material objects apply geometry and \ncalculation to themselves ? can tlie lenses of tlie eye, \nfor instance, be formed and adjusted with an exact \nsuitableness to their refractive powers, Avhile there is \nin the agency which has framed them no consciousness \nof the laws of light, of the course of rays, of the visible \nproperties of things ? This appears to be altogether \ninconceivable. \n\nEvery particle of matter possesses an almost endless \ntrain of properties, each acting according to its peculiar \nand fixed laws. For every atom of the same kind of \nmatter, these laws are invariably and perpetually the \nsame ; while for different kinds of matter, the difference \nof these properties is equally constant. This constant \nand precise resemblance, this variation equally constant \nand equally regular, suggest irresistibly the conception \nof some cause, independent of the atoms themselves, hy \nwhich their similarit}^ and dissimilarity, the agreement \nand difference of their deportment under the same \ncircumstances, liave been determined. Such a view of \nthe constitution of matter, as is observed by an eminent \nwriter of our own time, effectually destroys the idea of \nits eternal and self - existent nature, "by giving to \neach of its atoms the essential cliaracters, at once, of a \nmanufactured article, and a suhordinate agent."* \n\nThat such an impression, and the consequent belief \nin a divine Author of the universe, by whom its laws \nwere ordained and established, does result from the \nphilosophical contemplation of nature, will, we trust, \n\n* Herschel on the Study of Nat. Phil., Art 28. \n\n\n\nINDUCTIVE HABITS. \n\n\n\n261 \n\n\n\nbecome still more evident by tracing tlie effect produced \nupon men\'s minds by the discovery of such laws and \nproperties as those of which we have been speaking ; \nand we shall therefore make a few observations on this \nsubject. \n\nChap. V. \xe2\x80\x94 On Inductive Habits ; or, on the Impression produced on \nMens minds by discovering Laws of Nature. \n\nThe object of physical science is to discover such \nlaws and properties as those of which we have spoken \nin the last chapter. In this task, undoubtedly a pro- \ngress has been made on which we may well look with \npleasure and admiration; yet we cannot hesitate to \nconfess that the extent of our knowledge on such \nsubjects bears no proportion to that of our ignorance. \nOf the great and comprehensive laws which rule over \nthe widest provinces of natural phenomena, few have \nyet been disclosed to us. And the names of the \nphilosoxDhers, whose high office it has been to detect \nsuch laws, are even yet far from numerous. In looking \nback at the path by which science has advanced to its \npresent position, we see the names of the great dis- \ncoverers shine out like luminaries, few and scattered \nalong the line : by far the largest portion of the space \nis occupied by those whose comparatively humble \noffice it was to verif}^, to develope, to apply the general \ntruths which the discoverers brought to light. \n\nIt will readily be conceived that it is no easy matter, \nif it be possible, to analyse the process of thought by \nwhich laws of nature have thus been discovered; a \nprocess wliich, as we have said, has been in so few \n\n\n\n2G2 \n\n\n\nRELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\n\n\ninstances successful!}^ performed. We shall not here \nmake any attempt at such an analysis. But without \ntliis, we conceive it may be shown that the constitution \nand employment of the mind on wliich such discoveries \ndepend, are friendly to that belief in a wise and good \nCreator and Governor of the world, which it has been \nour object to illustrate and confirm. And if it should \nappear that those who see further than their fellows \ninto the bearings and dependencies of the material \nthings and elements by which they are surrounded, \nhave also been, in almost eYeij case, earnest and \nforward m aclmowledging the relation of all things to \na supreme intelligence and will, we shall be fortified \nin our persuasion that the true scientific perception \nof the general constitution of the universe, and of the \nmode m which events are produced and connected, is \nfitted to lead us to the conception and belief of God. \n\nLet us consider for a moment what takes x>lace in \nthe mmd of a student of nature when he attains to the \nperception of a law previously unknown, comiecting \nthe appearances which he has studied. A mass of \nfacts which before seemed incoherent and unmeaning, \nassume, on a sudden, the aspect of connexion and \nintelligible order. Tims, when Kepler discovered the \nlaw which connects the periodic times with the \ndiameters of the planetary orbits ; or, when Newton \nshowed how this and all other known mathematical \nproperties of the solar system were included m the law \nof universal gravitation according to the inverse square \nof the distance; particular circumstances which, before, \nwere merely matter of independent record, became, \n\n\n\nINDUCTIVE HABITS. \n\n\n\n263 \n\n\n\nfrom tliat time, inclissolublj conjoined by the laws so \ndiscovered. The separate occmTences and facts, which \nmight hitherto have seemed casual and without reason, \nwere now seen to be all exemplifications of the same \ntruth. The change is like that wdiich takes place when \nwe attempt to read a sentence written in difficult or \n\xe2\x80\xa2imperfect characters. For a time the separate parts \nai)pear to be disjoined and arbitrary marks ; the \nsuggestions of possible meanings, which succeed each \nother in the mind, fail, as fast as they are tried, in \ncombining, or accounting for, these symbols : but at last \nthe true supposition occurs ; some words are found to \ncoincide witli the meaning thus assumed ; the wdiole \nline of letters appear to take definite shapes and to \nleap into their proper places ; and the truth of the \nhappy conjecture seems to flash upon us from every \npart of the inscri2)tion. \n\nThe discovery of laws of nature, truly and satisfac- \ntorily connecting and explaining phenomena, of which, \nbefore, the connexion and causes had been unknown, \ndisplaj^s much of a similar process, of obscurity \nsucceeded by evidence, of effort and perplexity fol- \nlowed by conviction and repose. The innumerable \nconjectures and failures, the glimpses of light per- \npetually opening and as often clouded over, b}^ wdiich \nKepler w^as tantalised, the unwearied perseverance \nand inexhaustible ingenuity which he exercised, while \nseeking for the laws which he finally discovered, are, \nthanks to his communicative disposition, curiously \nexhibited in his works, and have been narrated by his \nbiographers; and such efforts and alternations, modified \n\n\n\n264 \n\n\n\nRELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\n\n\nby character and circumstances, must generally precede \nthe detection of any of the wider laws and dependencies \nby which the events of the universe are regulated. We \nmay readily conceive the satisfaction and delight with \nwhich, after this perplexity and struggle, the discoverer \nfinds himself in light and tranquillity ; able to look at \nthe provmce of nature ^vhich has been the subject of \nhis study, and to read there an intelligible connexion, \na sufficing reason, which no one before him had under- \nstood or apprehended. \n\nTliis step so much resembles the mode in which \none intelligent being understands and apprehends the \nconceptions of another, that we cannot be surprised if \nthose persons in whose minds such a process has \ntaken place, have been most ready to acknowledge the \nexistence and operation of a superintending intelligence, \nwhose ordinances it was their employment to study. \nWhen they had just read a sentence of the table of the \nlaws of the universe, they could not doubt whether it \nhad had a legislator. When they had decyphered \nthere a comprehensive and substantial truth, they \ncould not beheve that the letters had been thrown \ntogether by chance. They could not but readily \nacknowledge that what their faculties had enabled \nthem to read, must have been written by some higher \nand profounder mmd. And accordingl}^, we conceive \nit will be found, on examming the works of those to \nwhom we owe our knowledge of the laws of nature, and \nespecially of the wider and more comprehensive laws, \nthat such persons have been strongly and habitually \nimpressed with the loersuasion of a Divine Pur2)ose \n\n\n\nINDUCTIVE HABITS. \n\n\n\n265 \n\n\n\nand Power which had regulated the events which they \nhad attended to, and ordained the laws which they had \ndetected. \n\nTo those who have pursued science without reaching \nthe rank of discoverers ; \xe2\x80\x94 who have possessed a deri- \nvative knowledge of the laws of nature which others \nhad disclosed, and have employed themselves in tracing \nthe consequences of such laws, and systematising the \nbody of truth thus produced, the above description \ndoes not apply; and we have not therefore m these \ncases the same ground for anticipating the same frame \nof mind. If among men of science of this class, the \npersuasion of a supreme IntelHgence has at some \nperiods been less vivid and less universal, than in that \nhigher class of which we have before spoken, the fact, \nso far as it has existed, may perhaps be in some degree \naccounted for. But whether the view which we have \nto give of the mental peculiarities of men whose science \nis of this derivative kind be well founded, and whether \nthe account we have above offered of that which takes \nplace in the minds of original discoverers of laws in \nscientific researches be true or not, it will probably be \nconsidered a matter of some interest to point out \nhistorically that, in fact, such discoverers have been \npeculiarly in the habit of considering the world as the \nwork of God. This we shall now proceed to do. \n\nAs we have already said, the names of great dis- \ncoverers are not very numerous. The sciences which \nwe may look upon as having reached or, at least, \napproached their complete and finished form, are \nMechanics, Hydrostatics, and Physical Astronomy. \n\n\n\n266 \n\n\n\nllELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\n\n\nGalileo is the father of modern Mechanics ; Copernicus, \nIvepler, and Newton are the great names which mark \nthe progress of Astronom3^ Hydrostatics shared in a \ngreat measure the fortunes of the related science of \nMechanics ; Boyle and Pascal were the persons mainly \nactive in developing its more peculiar principles. The \nother branches of knowledge which belong to natural \nphilosophy, as Chemistr}^ and Meteorology, are as yet \nimperfect, and perhaps infant sciences ; and it would \nbe rasli to presume to select m them, names of equal \npre-eminence with those above mentioned : but it may \nnot be diiiicult to show, with sufficient evidence, that \nthe eiBfect of science upon the authors of science is, in \nthese subjects as in the former ones, far other than to \nalienate then* minds from religious trains of thought, \nand a habit of considering the world as the work of God. \n\nAVe shall mA dwell much on the first of the above- \nmentioned great names, Galileo ; for his scientific merit \nconsisted ratlier in adopting the sound philosophy of \nothers, as in the case of the Copernican system, and \nin combating prevalent errors, as in the case of the \nAristotelian doctrines concerning motion, than in any \nmarked and prominent discovery of new prmciples. \nMoreover, the mechanical laws which he had a share \nin brmging to light \xe2\x80\x94 depending, as they did, rather on \ndetached experiments and transient facts than on \nobservation of the general course of the universe \xe2\x80\x94 \ncould not so clearly suggest any reflection on the \ngovernment of the world at that period, as they did \nafterwards when Newton showed their bearing on \nthe cosmical system. Yet Galileo, as a man of \n\n\n\nINDUCTIVE HABITS. \n\n\n\n267 \n\n\n\nphilosophical and inventive mind, who produced a great \neffect on the progress of physical knowledge, is a \nperson whose opinions must naturally interest us, \nengaged in our present course of reasoning. There is \nin his writmgs little which bears upon rehgious views, \nas there is in the nature of his works httle to lead him \nto such subjects. Yet strong expressions of piet}^ are \nnot wantmg, both in his letters and in his published \ntreatises. The persecution which he underwent, on \naccount of his writings in favour of the Copernican \nsystem, was grounded, not on his opposition to the \ngeneral truths of natural religion, which is our main \nconcern at present, nor even on any supposed rejection \nof any articles of Christian faith, but on the alleged \ndiscrepancy between his adopted astronomical views \nand the declarations of Scripture. Some of his remarks \nmay interest the reader. \n\nIn his third dialogue on the Copernican system he \nhas occasion to speak of the opinion which holds all \nparts of the world to be framed for man\'s use alone : \nand to this he says, " I would that we should not so \nshorten the arm of God in the government of human \naffairs ; but that we should rest in this, that we are \ncertain that God and nature are so occupied in the \ngovernment of human affairs, that they could not more \nattend to us if they were charged with the care of the \nhuman race alone." In the same spirit, when some \nobjected to the asserted smallness of the Medicean \nstars, or satellites of Jupiter, and urged this as a reason \nwhy they were unworthy the regard of philosophers, he \nreplied that they are the works of God\'s power, the \n\n\n\n268 \n\n\n\nKELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\n\n\nobjects of His care, and therefore may well be con- \nsidered as sublime subjects for man\'s study. \n\nIn the Dialogues on Mechanics, there occur those \nobservations concerning the use of the air-bladder in \nUshes, and concerning the adaptation of the size of \nanimals to the strength of the materials of which they \nare framed, which have often since been adopted by|: \nwriters on the wisdom of Providence. The last of tliel : \ndialogues on the system of the world is closed by af i \nreligious reflection, put in the mouth of the interlocutor \nwho usually expresses Galileo\'s own opinions. " AVliile I \nit is permitted us to speculate concerning the constitu- ; \ntion of the world, we are also taught (perhaps in order \ntliat tlie activity of the human mind may not pause or |! \nlanguish) that our powers do not enable us to compre- - \nhend the works of His hands. May success therefore i \nattend this intellectual exercise, thus permitted and j| \nappointed for us; by which we recognise and admire \nthe greatness of God the more, in proportion as w^e find U \nourselves the less able to penetrjite the profound abysses \\] \nof his wisdom." And tliat this train of thought was . \nhabitual to the philosopher we liave abundant evidence i \nin many other parts of his writings. He had already [ \nsaid in the same dialogue, "Nature (or God, as he \nelsewhere speaks) employs means in an admirable and \ninconceivable manner; admirable, that is, and incon- \nceivable to us, but not to her, who brmgs about with \' \nconsummate facility and simplicity things which affect | \nour intellect with infinite astonishment. That which ; \nis to us most difhcult to understand is to her most easy .! \nto execute." \xe2\x96\xa0 \n\n\n\nINDUCTIVE HABITS. \n\n\n\n269 \n\n\n\nThe establisliment of the Copernican and Newtonian \nviews of the [motions of the solar system and their \ncauses, were probably the occasions on which religious \nbut unphilosophical men entertained the strongest \napprehensions that the belief in the government of \nGod may be weakened when we thus "thrust some \nmechanic cause into his place." It is therefore fortu- \nnate that we can show, not only that this ought not to \noccur, from the reason of the thing, but also that in \nifact the persons who are the leading characters in the \nprogress of these opinions were men of clear and \nfervent piety. \n\nIn the case of Copernicus himself it does not appear \nthat, originally, any apprehensions were enter tamed of \nany dangerous discrepancy between his doctrines and \nthe truths of religion, either natural or revealed. The \niwork which contains these memorable discoveries was \naddressed to Pope Paul III., the head, at that time \n(1543), of the religious world ; and was pubHshed, as \nthe author states in the preface, at the urgent entreaty \nof friends, one of whom was a cardinal, and another a \nIbishop.* " I know," he says, " that the thoughts of a \nphilosopher are far removed from the judgment of the \nvulgar ; since it is his study to search out truth in all \nthings, as far as that is permitted by God to human \n\n* Amici me cunctantem atque etiam reluctantem, retraxerunt, inter \n\' quos primvis fuit Nicolaus Schonbergius, Cardinalis Capuaniis, in omni \ngenere literai\'um Celebris ; proxinms ille vir mei amantissimus Tide- \nmannus Gisius, Episcopus Culmensis, sacrarum ut est et omnium \nbonarum literarum studiosissimus. \xe2\x80\x94 Dc Eevolutionibus. Prcef. ad \nPaulum III. \n\n\n\n270 \n\n\n\nHELIGIOUS VIEAVS. \n\n\n\nreason." And tliougli the doctrines are for tlie most \nl^art stated as portions of a mathematical calcination, \nthe explanation of the arrangement by which the sun is \nplaced in the centre of the sj^stem is accompanied by a \nnatural reflection of a religious cast : " Who in this fair \ntemple would place tliis lamp in any other or better \nplace than tliere whence it may illmninate the whole ? \nWe find then under this ordination an admirable \nsymmetr}\' of the world, and a certain harmonious \nconnexion of the motion and magnitude of the orbs, \nsucli as in any other way cannot be found. Hius the \nprogressions and regressions c>f the planets all arise \nfrom the same cause, the motion of the earth. And \nthat no sucli movements are seen in the fixed stars, \nargues their immense distance from us, which causes \nthe apparent magnitude of the earth\'s annual course to \nbecome evanescent. So great, in short, is this divine \nfabric of the great and good God ; " * " this best and \nmost regular artificer of the universe," as he elsevvdiere \nspeaks. \n\nKepler was the person, who by further studying " the \nconnexion of the motions and magnitude of the orbs," \nto which Copernicus had thus drawn the attention of \nastronomers, detected the laws of this connexion, and \nprepared the way for the discovery, by Newton, of the \nmechanical laws and causes of such motions. Kepler \nwas a man of strong and lively piety ; and the exhorta- \ntion wliich he addresses to his reader before entering \non the exposition of some of his discoveries, may be \nquoted not only for its earnestness but its reasonable- \n\n* Lib. i., ex. 1 \n\n\n\nINDUCTIVE H^kBITS. \n\n\n\n271 \n\n\n\nness also. \xe2\x80\x94 " I beseech my reader, that not iinminclfnl \nof the divine goodness bestowed on man, he do with \nme praise and celebrate the wisdom and greatness of \n\n! the Creator, which I open to him from a more inward \nexplication of the form of the world, from a searching \nof causes, from a detection of the errors of vision : and \nthat thus, not only in the firmness and stability of the \n\n\' earth he perceive with gratitude the preservation of all \nliving things in nature as the gift of God, but also that \nin its motion, so recondite, so admirable, he acknow- \nledge the wisdom of the Creator. But him who is too \ndull to receive this science, or too weak to believe the \nCopernican system without harm to his piety, him, I \nsay, I advise that, leaving the school of astronomy, and \ncondemning, if he please, any doctrines of the philo- \nsophers, he follow his own path, and desist from this \nwandering through the universe, and lifting up his \nnatural eyes, with which alone he can see, pour himself \nout from his own heart in praise of God the Creator ; \nbeing certain that he gives no less worship to God than \nthe astronomer, to whom God has given to see more \nclearly with his inward eye, and who, for what he has \nhimself discovered, both can and will glorify God." \n\nI The next great step in our knowledge of the universe, \n\nI the discovery of the mechanical causes by which its \nmotions are produced, and of their laws, has in modern \ntimes sometimes been supposed, both by the friends of \nreligion and by others, to be unfavourable to the im- \npression of an intelligent First Cause. That such a \nsupposition is founded in error we have offered what \nappear to us insurmountable reasons for believing. \n\n\n\n272 \n\n\n\nRELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\n\n\nThat in the mind of the gTeat discoverer of tliis me- \nchanical cause, Newton, the impression of a creating \nand presiding Deity was confirmed, not shaken, by all \nhis discoveries, is so well known that it is almost \nsuperfluous to insist upon the fact. His views of the \ntendency of science invested it with no dangers of this \nkind. " The business of natural philosophy is," he \nsays, (Optics, Qu. 28,) " to argue from phenomena \nwithout feigning hj-potheses, and to deduce causes from \nefi\'ects, till we come to the very first cause, which cer- \ntainly is not mechanical." " Though every true step \nmade in this philosophy brings us not immediately to \nthe knowledge of the first cause, yet it brings us nearer \nto it, and is on that account highly to be valued." The \nScholium, or note, which concludes his great work, the \nPrincipia, is a well-kno^vn and most striking evidence \non this point, This beautiful system of sun, i)lanets \nand comets, could have its origin in no other way than \nby tlie purpose and command of an intelligent and \npowerful Being. He governs all things, not as the soul \nof tlie world, but as the lord of the universe. He is \nnot only God, but Lord or Governor. We know him \nonly by his properties and attributes, by the wise and \nadmii\'able structure of things around us, and by their \nfinal causes ; we admire hiin on account of his perfec- \ntions, we venerate and worship him on account of his \ngovernment." \n\nWithout making any further quotations, it must be \nevident to the reader that the succession of great \nphilosophers through whom mankind have been led \nto the knowledge of the greatest of scientific truths, the \n\n\n\nINDUCTIVE HABITS. \n\n\n\n273 \n\n\n\nlaw of universal gravitation, did, for their parts, see \nI the truths which they disclosed to men in such a light \ni| that their rehgious feelings, their reference of the world \nj to an intelligent Creator and Preserver, their admira- \ni tion of his attributes, were exalted rather than impaired \n\nby the insight which they obtained into the structure of \n\nthe universe. \n\nHaving shown this with regard to the most perfect \nportion of human knowdedge, our knowledge of the \nmotions of the solar system, we shall adduce a few \n\nI other passages, illustrating the prevalence of the same \nfact in other departments of experimental science ; \n\nj although, for reasons which have already been inti- \nmated, we conceive that sciences of experiment do not \nconduct so obviously as sciences of observation to \nthe impression of a Divine Legislator of the material \nworld. \n\nThe science of Hydrostatics was constructed in a \n|| great measure by the founders of the sister science of \nMechanics. Of those who were employed in experi- \nmentally establishing the principles pecuharly belonging \nto the doctrine of fluids, Pascal and Boyle are two of \n1 the most eminent names. That these two great philo- \nsophers were not only religious, but both of them \nremarkable for their fervent and pervading devotion, \nis too well known to be dwelt on. With regard to \nPascal, however, we ought not perhaps to pass over an \nopinion of his, that the existence of God cannot be \nproved from the external world. "I do not undertake \nj to prove this," says he, " not only because I do not feel \nI myself sufficiently strong to find in nature that which \n\nT \n\n\n\nEELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\n\n\nshall conviiice obstinate atheists, but because such \nknowledge without Jesus Christ is useless and sterile." \nIt is obvious that such a state of mind would prevent \nthis writer from encouraging or dwelHng upon the \ngrounds of natural religion ; while yet he liimseK is \nan example of that which we wish to illustrate, that \nthose who have obtained the furthest insight into \nnature, have been in all ages firm believers in God. \n" Nature," he says in another place, has perfections \nin order to show that slie is the image of God, and \ndefects in order to show that she is only his image." * \n\nBoyle was not onty a most pious man as well as a \ngi\'eat philosopher, but he exerted himself very often \nand earnestly in his ^Titmgs to show the bearing of his \nnatui\'al philosophy upon his views of the divine attri- \nbutes, and of the government of the world. Many of \nthese dissertations convey trains of thought and rea- \nsoning which have never been surpast for their combi- \nnation of judicious sobriet}\' in not pressing his \narguments too far, with fervent devotion in his con- \nceptions of the Divine nature. As examples of these \nmerits, we might adduce almost any portion of his \ntracts on these subjects ; for instance, his " Inquiry \ninto the Final Causes of Natural Things ; " his " Free \nInquiry into the Vulgar Notion of Natm-e ; " his \n" Cluistian Virtuoso ; " and his Essay entititled " The \nHigh Veneration Man\'s Intellect owes to God." It \nwould be superfluous to quote at any length from these \nworks. We may observe, however, that he notices \nthat general fact which we are at present employed in \n\n* Pensees, Art. viii., 1. ^ \n\n\n\nINDUCTIVE HABITS. \n\n\n\n275 \n\n\n\nexemplifjdng, that " in almost all ages and countries \nthe generality of philosophers and contemplative men \nwere persuaded of the existence of a Deity from the \nconsideration of the phenomena of the universe ; whose \nfabric and conduct they rationally concluded could not \nIjustly be ascribed either to chance or to any other \ncause than a Divine Being." And in speaking of the \nreligious uses of science, he says : " Though I am \nwilling to grant that some impressions of God\'s \nwisdom are so conspicuous that even a superficial \nphilosopher may thence infer that the author of such \nworks must be a wise agent ; yet how wise an agent he \nhas in these works expressed himself to be, none but \nan experimental philosopher can well discern. And \n\'tis not by a slight survey, but by a diligent and sldlful \nscrutiny, of the works of God, that a man must be, by \na rational and affective conviction, engaged to acknow- \nledge that the author of nature \' is wonderful in counsel, \nand excellent in working.\' " \n\nAfter the mechanical properties of fluids, the laws of \nthe operation of the chemical and physical properties \nof the elements about us, offer themselves to our notice. \n: The relations of heat and of moisture in particular, \ni which play so important a part, as we have seen, in the \neconomy of our world, have been the subject of various \nresearches ; and they have led to views of the operation \nof such agents, some of which we have endeavoured to \npresent to the reader, and to point out the remarkable \narrangements by which their beneficial operation is \ncarried on. That the discoverers of the laws by which \nsuch operations are regulated, were not insensible to \n\n\n\n276 \n\n\n\nRELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\n\n\nthe persuasion of a Divine care and contrivance wliick \nthose arrangements suggest, is what we should expect, \nin agreement with what we have ah\'eady said, and it is \nwhat we find. Among the names of the philosophers \nto whom we owe om* knowledge on these suhjects, \nthere are none gi\'eater than those of Black, the dis- \ncoverer of tlie laws of latent heat, and Dalton,who first \ngave us a true view of the mode in which water}^ vapour \nexists and operates in the atmosphere. With regartl id \nthe former of these philosophers, we shall quote Dr. \nThomson\'s account of the views which the laws of \nlatent heat suggested to the discoverer.* " Dr. Black \nquickly perceived the vast importance of this discovery, \nand took a pleasure in laying before his students a \nview of the beneficial effects of this habitude of heat in \nthe economy of nature. During the summer season a \nvast magazine of heat is accumulated in the water, \nwhich by gradually emerging during congelation serves \nto temper the cold of winter. Were it not for this \naccumulation of heat in water and other bodies, the \nsun would no sooner go a few degrees to the south of \nthe equator tliau we should feel all the horrors of \nwinter." \n\nIn the same spirit are Mr. Dalton\'s reflections, after \npointing out the laws which regulate the balance of \nevaporation and rain,f which he himself first clearly \nexplained. " It is scarcely possible," says he, " to \ncontemplate without admiration the beautiful system \nof nature by wliich the surface of the earth is con- \n\n\n\n* Thomson\'s Hist, of Chemistry, vol. i., p. 321. \nt Manch. Mem., vol. v., p. 346. \n\n\n\nINDUCTIVE HABITS. \n\n\n\n277 \n\n\n\ntinually supplied with water, and that unceptsing \ncirculation of a \xc2\xa3.md so essentially necessary to the \nvery being of the animal and vegetable kingdom takes \nplace." \n\nSuch impressions appear thus to rise irresistibly in \nthe breasts of men, when they obtain a sight, for the \nI first time, of the varied play and comprehensive con- \nnexions of the laws by which the business of the material \n[world is carried on and its occurrences are brought to \nI pass. To dwell upon or develope such reflections is \npot here our business. Their general prevalence in \njthe minds of those to whom these first views of new \n[truths are granted, has been, we trust, sufficiently \nillustrated. Nor are the names adduced above, distin- \nguished as they are, brought forward as authorities \nimerely. We do not claim for the greatest discoverers \ni jin the realms of science any immunity from error. In \npieir general opinions they may, as others may, judge \nor reason ill. The articles of their religious belief may \nbe as easily and as widely as those of other men, \nimperfect, perverted, unprofitable. But on this one \npoint, the tendency of our advances in the scientific \nknowledge of the universe to lead us up to a belief in a \nmost wise maker and master of the universe, we conceive \nthat they who make these advances, and who feel, as an \noriginal impression, that which others feel only by \nreceiving and teaching, must be looked to with a \npeculiar attention and respect. And what their \nimpressions have commonly been, we have thus \nendeavoured to show. \n\n\n\n278 \n\n\n\nEELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\n\n\nChap. VI. \xe2\x80\x94 On Deduct kc Habits; or, on the Impression produced on \nMen\'s dliiids hy tracing the consequences of ascertained Laios. \n\nThe opinion illustrated in tlie last chapter, tliat the \nadvances which men make in science tend to impress \nupon them the reality of the Divine government of the \nworld, lias often heen controverted. Complaints have \nbeen made, and especially of late years, that the \ngrowtli of piety has not always been commensurate \nwith the growth of knowledge, in the minds of those \nwho make nature their study. Views of an irreligious \nchai-acter have been entertained, it is sometimes said, \nby persons eminently well instructed in all the dis- \ncoveries of modern times, no less than by the superficial \nand ignorant. Those who liave been supposed to deny \nor to doubt the existence, the providence, the attributes \nof God, have in many cases been men of considerable \neminence and celebrity for their attainments in science. \nThe opinion that this is the case appears to be exten- \nsively diffused, and this persuasion has probably often \nin\'oduced inquietude and grief in the breasts of pious \nand benevolent men. \n\nThis opinion, concerning the want of religious con- \nvictions among those who have made natural philosophy \ntheii* leading pursuit, has probably gone far beyond \nthe limits of the real fact. But if we allow that there \nare any strong cases to countenance such an opinion, it \nmay be worth our while to consider how far they admit \nof any satisfactory explanation. The fact aj)pears at \nfirst sicfht to be at variance with the view we have \n\n\n\nDEDUCTIVE HABITS. \n\n\n\n279 \n\n\n\ngiven of the impression produced by scientific dis- \ncovery ; and it is moreover always a matter of uneasi- \nness and regret, to have men of eminent talents and \nknowledge opposed to doctrines which we consider as \nimportant truths. \n\nWe conceive that an explanation of such cases, if \nthey should occur, may be found in a very curious and \nimportant circumstance belonging to the process by \nwhich our physical sciences are formed. The first \ndiscovery of new general truths, and the development \nof these truths when once obtained, are two operations \nextremely different \xe2\x80\x94 imply different mental habits, and \nmay easily be associated with different views and con- \nvictions on points out of the reach of scientific demon- \nstration. There would therefore be nothing surprising, \n1 or inconsistent with what we have maintained above, \ni if it should appear that while original discoverers of \nlaws of nature are peculiarly led, as we have seen, to \nbelieve the existence of a supreme intelligence and \npurpose; the far greater number of cultivators of \nscience, whose employment it is to learn from others \nthese general laws, and to trace, combine, and apply \ntheir consequences, should have no clearness of con- \nviction or security from error on this subject, beyond \nwhat belongs to persons of any other class. \n\nThis will, perhaps, become somewhat more evident \nby considermg a little more closely the distinction of \nthe two operations of discovery and development, of \nv/hich we have spoken above, and the tendency which \n: the habitual prosecution of them may be expected to \nproduce in the thoughts and views of the student. \n\n\n\n280 \n\n\n\nllELIGIOUS VIE\\VS. \n\n\n\nWe have already endeavoured in some measure to \ndescribe that which takes pLice when a new hiw of \nnatiu\'e is discovered. A number of facts in which, \nbefore, order and connexion did not appear at all, or \nappeared b}- partial and contradictor}^ glimpses, are \nbrought into a point of view in which order and con- \nnexion become their essential character. It is seen \nthat each fact is but a different manifestation of the \nsame principle ; that each particular is that which it is, \nin virtue of the same general truth. The inscription is \ndecypliered ; the enigma is guessed ; the principle is \nunderstood; tlietrutliis enunciated. \n\nAVlien this step is once made, it becomes possible to \ndeduce from the truth thus established, a train of con- \nsequences often in no small degree long and complex. \nThe process of making these inferences may proj^erl}- \nbe described by the word Deduction. On the other \nhand, the very different process by which a new prin- \nciple is collected from an assemblage of facts, has been \ntermed Induction ; the truths so obtained and their \nconsequences constitute the results of the Inductive \nPliilosophy ; which is frequently and rightly described \nas a science which ascends from particular facts to \ngeneral principles, and then descends again from these \ngeneral principles to particular applications and exem- \nplifications. \n\nWhile the great and important labours by which \nscience is really advanced consist in the successive \nsteps of the inductive ascent, in the discovery of new \nlaws perpetually more and more general ; by far the \ngreater part of our books of physical science unavoid- \n\n\n\nDEDUCTIVE HABITS. \n\n\n\n281 \n\n\n\nably consist in deductive reasoning, exhibiting tlie con- \nsequences and applications of the laws which have been \ndiscovered ; and the greater part of writers upon science \nhave their minds employed in this process of deduction \nand application. \n\nThis is true of many of those who are considered, \nand justly, as distinguished and profound philosophers. \nIn the mechanical philosophy, that science which \napplies the properties of matter and the laws of motion \nto the explanation of the phenomena of the world, this \nis peculiarly the case. The laws, when once discovered, \noccupy little room in their statement, and when no \nlonger contested, are not felt to need a lengthened proof. \nBut their consequences require far more room and \nfar more intellectual labour. If we take, for example, \nthe laws of motion and the law of universal gTavitation, \nwe can express in a few lines, that which, when deve \nloped, represents and explains an innumerable mass of \nnatural phenomena. But here the course of develop- \nment is necessarily so long, the reasoning contains so \nmany steps, the considerations on which it rests are so \nminute and refined, the complication of cases and of \nconsequences is so vast, and even the involution arising \nfrom the properties of space and number is so serious, \nthat the most consummate subtlety, the most active \ninvention, the most tenacious power of inference, the \nwidest spirit of combination, must be tasked, and tasked \nseverely, in order to solve the problems which belong \nto tins portion of science. And the persons who have \nbeen employed on these problems, and who have brought \nto them the high and admirable qualities which such \n\n\n\n282 \n\n\n\nHELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\n\n\nan office requii-es, have justly excited iii a very eminent \ndegi-ee the admiration which mankind feel for great \nintellectual powers. Their names occupy a distm- \nguished place in literary history ; and probably there \nare no scientific reputations of the last century higher, \nand none more merited, than those earned by the great \nmathematicians who have laboured with such wonderful \nsuccess in unfolding the mechanism of the heavens ; \nsuch for instance as D\'Alembert, Clairault, Euler, \nLagrange, Laplace. \n\nBut it is still important to recollect, that the mental \nemployments of men, while they are occupied in this \nportion of the task of the formation of science, are \naltogether different from that which takes place in the \nmind of a discoverer, who, for the first time, seizes \nthe princii^le which connects phenomena before unex- \nplained, and tlius adds another original truth to our \nknowledge cf the universe. In explaming, as the \ngreat mathematicians just mentioned have done, the \nphenomena of the solar system by means of the law of \nuniversal gravitation, the conclusions at which they \narrived were really included in the truth of the law, \nwhatever skill and sagacity it might requu\'e to develope \nand extricate them from the general principle. But \nwhen Newton conceived and established the law itself, \nhe added to our knowledge something which was not \ncontained in any truth previously known, nor deducible \nfrom it by any com-se of mere reasoning. And the \nsame distmction, in all other cases, obtains, between \nthese processes which establish the principles, generally \nfew and simple, on which our sciences rest, and those \n\n\n\nDEDUCTIVE HABITS. \n\n\n\n283 \n\n\n\nreasonings and calculations, founded on tlie principles \nthus obtained, wliich constitute by far the larger portion \nof the common treatises on the most complete of the \nsciences now cultivated. \n\nSince the difference is so great between the process \nof inductive generalisation of physical facts, and that \nof mathematical deduction of \' consequences, it is not \nsurprising that the two processes should imply different \nmental powers and habits. However rare the mathe- \nmatical talent, in its highest excellence, may be, it is \nfar more common, if we are to judge from the history of \nscience, than the genius which divines the general laws \nof nature. We have several good mathematicians in \nevery age ; we have few great discoverers in the whole \nhistory of our species. \n\nThe distinction being thus clearly established between \noriginal discovery and derivative speculation, between \nthe ascent to principles and the descent from them, we \nhave further to observe, that the habitual and exclusive \nprosecution of the latter process may sometimes exercise \nan unfavourable effect on the mind of the student, and \nmay make him less fitted and ready to apprehend and \naccept truths different from those with which his \nreasonings are concerned. We conceive, for example, \nthat a person labours under gross error, who believes \nthe phenomena of the world to be altogether produced \nby mechanical causes, and who excludes from his view \nall reference to an intelligent First Cause and Governor. \nBut we conceive that reasons may be shown which \nmake it more probable that error of such a kind should \nfind a place in the mind of a person of deductive, than of \n\n\n\n2S4 \n\n\n\nEELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\n\n\ninductive habits ; \xe2\x80\x94 of a mere mathematician or logician, \nthan of one who studies the facts of the natural world \nand detects their laws. \n\nThe person wliose mind is employed in reducing to \nlaw and order and intelligible cause the complex facts \nof the material world, is compelled to look beyond the \npresent state of his knowledge, and to turn his thoughts \nto the existence of principles higher than those which \nlie 3\'et possesses. He has seen occasions when facts that \nat lirst seemed incoherent and anomalous, were reduced \nto rule and connexion ; and when limited rules were \ndiscovered to be included in some rule of superior \ngenerality. He Imows that all facts and appearances, \nall i^artial laws, however confused and casual they at \npresent seem, must still, in reality, have this same kind \nof bearing and dependence ; \xe2\x80\x94 must be bound together \nby some undiscovered imnciple of order ; \xe2\x80\x94 must -pi\'o- \nceed from some cause working by most steady rules ; \xe2\x80\x94 \nmust be included in some wide and fruitful general \ntruth. He cannot therefore consider any principles \nwhich he has already obtained, as the ultimate and \nsufficient reason of that which he sees. There must \nbe some higher principle, some ulterior reason. The \neffoii and struggle by which he endeavours to extend \nhis view, makes him feel that there is a region of truth \nnot included in his present physical knowledge; the \nvery imperfection of the light in which he works his \nway, suggests to him that there must be a source of \nclearer illumination at a distance from him. \n\nWe must allow that it is scarcely possible to describe, \nin a manner free from some vagueness and obscurity, \n\n\n\nDEDUCTIVE HABITS. \n\n\n\n285 \n\n\n\nthe effect thus produced upon the mmd by the efforts \nwhich it makes to reduce natural phenomena to \ngeneral laws. But we trust it will still be allowed that \nthere is no difficulty in seeing clearly that a different \ninfluence may result from this process, and from the \nj)rocess of deductive reasoning which forms the main \nemployment of the mathematical cultivators and syste- \nmatic expositors of physical science in modern times. \nSuch persons are not led by their pursuits to anything \nbeyond the general principles, which form the basis of \ntheir explanations and applications. They acquiesce \nin these ; they make these their ultimate grounds of \ntruth ; and they are entirely employed in unfoldmg the \nparticular truths which are involved in such general \ntruths. Their thoughts dwell little upon the possibility \nof the laws of nature being other than we find them to \nbe, or on the reasons why they are not so; and still less \non those facts and phenomena which philosophers have \nnot yet reduced to any rule, which are lawless to us, \nthough we know that, in reality, they must be governed \nby some principle of order and harmony. On the \ncontrary, by assuming perpetually the existing laws as \nthe basis of their reasoning, without question or doubt, \nand by employing such language that these laws can \nbe expressed in the simplest and briefest form, they \nare led to think and believe as if these laws were \nnecessarily and inevitably what they are. Some \nmathematicians, indeed, have maintained that the \nhighest laws of nature with which we are acquainted, \nthe laws of motion and the law of miiversal gravitation, \nare not only necessarily true, but are even self-evident \n\n\n\n286 \n\n\n\nRELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\n\n\nand certain It j^riori, like the truths of geometry. And \nthough the mathematical cultivator of the science of \nmechanics may not adopt this as his speculative opi- \nnion, he may still be so far influenced by the tendency \nfrom which it springs, that he may rest in the mecha- \nnical laws of the universe as ultimate and all-sufi&cient \nprinciples, without seeing in them any evidence of their \nhaving been selected and ordamed, and thus without \nascending from the contemplation of the world to the \nthought of an Intelligent Ruler. He may thus sub- \nstitute for the Deity certain axioms and first principles, \nas the cause of all. And the follower of Newton may \nrun into tlie error with which he is sometimes charged, \nof thrusting some meclianic cause into the place of \nGod, if he do not raise his views, as his master did, to \nsome higher cause, to some source of all forces, laws, \nand principles. \n\nWhen, therefore, we consider the mathematicians \nwho are employed in successfully applying the mecha- \nnical philosophy, as men well deservuig of honour from \nthose who take an interest in the progress of science, \nwe do rightly; but it is still to be recollected, that \nin doing this they are not carrying us to any higher \npoint of view in the knowledge of nature than we \nhad attained before : they are only unfoldmg the \nconsequences, which were akeady virtually in our \npossession, because they were implied in principles \nabeady discovered : \xe2\x80\x94 \'they are adding to our knowledge \nof effects, but not to our knowledge of causes : \xe2\x80\x94 they \nare not making any advance in that progress of which \nNewton spoke, and in which he made so vast a stride, \n\n\n\nDEDUCTIVE HABITS. \n\n\n\n287 \n\n\n\nin which " every step made brings us nearer to the \nknowledge of the first cause, and is on that account \nhighly to be valued." And as in this advance they \nhave no peculiar privileges or advantages, their errors \nof opinion concerning it, if they err, are no more to be \nwondered at than those of common men ; and need as \nhttle disturb or distress us, as if those who comixdtted \nthem had confined themselves to the study of arithmetic \nor of geometry. If we can console and tranquillise \nourselves concerning the defective or perverted views \nof religious truth entertained by any of our fellow men, \nwe need find no additional difficulty in doing so when \nthose who are mistaken are great mathematicians, who \nhave added to the riches and elegance of the mechanical \nphiloso]3hy. And if we are seeking for extraneous \ngrounds of trust and comfort on this subject, we may \nfind them in the reflection ; \xe2\x80\x94 that, whatever may be the \nopinions of those who assume the causes and laws of \nthat philosophy and reason from them, the views of \nthose admirable and ever-honoured men who first \ncaught sight of these laws and causes, impressed them \nwith the belief that this is " the fabric of a great and \ngood God;" that "it is man\'s duty to pour out his \nsoul in praise of the Creator;" and that all this beau- \ntiful system must be referred to " a first cause, which \nis certainly not mechanical." \n\nII. We may thus, with the greatest propriety, deny \nto the mechanical philosophers and mathematicians of \nrecent times any authority with regard to their views \nof the administration of the universe; we have no \nreason whatever to expect from their speculations any \n\n\n\n288 \n\n\n\nRELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\n\n\nhelp, when we attempt to ascend to the first cause and \nsupreme Euler of the universe. But w^e might perhaps \ngo further, and assert that they are in some respects \nless hkely tlian men employed in other pursuits, to \nmake any clear advance towards such a suhject of \nspeculation. Persons whose thoughts are thus entirely \noccupied in deduction are apt to forget that this is, \nafter all, only one employment of the reason among \nmore ; only one mode of arriving at truth, needing to \nhave its deficiencies completed hy another. Deductive \nreasoners, those who cultivate science of whatever kind, \nby means of mathematical and logical processes alone, \nmay acquire an exaggerated feeling of the amount and \nvalue of their labours. Such employments, from the \nclearness of the notions involved in tliem, the irre- \nsistible concatenation of truths which they unfold, th6 \nsubtlety which they require, and their entire success in \nthat which they attempt, possess a peculiar fascination \nfor the intellect. Those who pursue such studies have \ngenerally a contempt and impatience of the pretensions \nof all those other portions of our knowledge, where \nfrom the nature of the case, or the small progress \nhitherto made in their cultivation, a more vague and \nloose kind of reasoning seems to be adopted. Now if \nthis feeling be carried so far as to make the reasoner \nsuppose that these mathematical and logical jorocesses \ncan lead him to all the knowledge and all the certainty \nwhich we need, it is clearly a delusive feeling. For it \nis confessed on all hands, that all which mathematics \nor vrhich logic can do, is to develope and extract those \ntruths, as conclusions, which were in reality involved \n\n\n\nDEDUCTIVE HABITS. \n\n\n\n289 \n\n\n\nin the principles on which our reasonings proceeded.* \nAnd this being allowed, we cannot but ask how we \nobtain these principles ? from what other source of \nknowledge we derive the original truths which we thus \npursue into detail ? since it is manifest that such \nprinciples cannot be derived from the proper stores \nof mathematics or logic. These methods can generate \nno new truth ; and all the grounds and elements of the \nknowledge which, through them, we can acquire, must \nnecessarily come from some extraneous source. It \nis certain, therefore, that the mathematician and the \nlogician must derive from some process different from \ntheir own, the substance and material of all our know- \nledge, whether physical or metaphysical, physiological \nor moral. This process, by which we acquire our first \nprinciples (without pretending here to analyse it), is \nobviously the general course of human experience, and \nthe natural exercise of the understanding : our inter- \ncourse with matter and with men, and the consequent \ngrowth in our minds of convictions and conceptions \nsuch as our reason can deal with, either by her \nsystematic or unsystematic methods of procedure. \nSupplies from tliis vast and inexhaustible source of \noriginal truths are requisite, to give any value whatever \nto the results of our deductive processes, whether \n\n* " Since all reasoning may be resolved into syllogisms, and since in \na syllogism the premises do virtually assert the conclusion, it follows \nat once, that no new truth can be elicited by any process of reasoning." \n\xe2\x80\x94 Whately\'s Logic, p. 223. \n\nMathematics is the logic of quantity, and to this science the observa- \ntion here quoted is strictly applicable. \n\n\n\n290 \n\n\n\nRELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\n\n\nmatliematical or logical ; while, on tlie other hand, \nthere are many branches of our knowledge in which \nwe possess a large share of original and derivative \nconvictions and truths, but where it is nevertheless at \npresent quite impossible to erect our knowledge into \na complete system ; \xe2\x80\x94 to state our primary and inde- \npendent truths, and to show how on these all the rest \ndepend by the rules of art. If the mathematician is \nrepelled from speculations on morals or politics, on the \nbeautiful or the right, because the reasonings which \nthe}^ involve have not mathematical precision and \nconclusiveness, he will remain destitute of much of the \nmost valuable knowledge which man can acquire. \nAnd if he attempts to mend the matter by giving to \ntreatises on morals, or politics, or criticism, a form and s \na phraseology borrowed from the very few tolerably \ncomplete physical sciences which exist, it will be found \nthat he is compelled to distort and damage the most \nimportant truths, so as to deprive them of their true . \nshape and import, in order to force them into their \nplaces in his artificial system. \n\nIf, therefore, as we have said, the mathematical \nphilosopher dwells in his own bright and pleasant land \nof deductive reasoning, till he turns with disgust from \nall the speculations, necessarily less clear and conclu- \nsive, in which his imagination, his practical faculties, \nhis moral sense, his capacity of religious hope and \nbelief, are to be called into action, he becomes, more \nthan common men, liable to miss the roads to truths \nof extreme consequeiice. \n\nThis is so obvious, that charges are frequently \n\n\n\nDEDUCTIVE HABITS. \n\n\n\n291 \n\n\n\nbrought against the study of mathematics, as unfitting \nmen for those occupations which depend upon our \ncommon instinctive convictions and feelings, upon \nthe unsystematic exercise of the understanding with \nregard to common relations and common occurrences. \nBonaparte observed of Laplace when he was i:)laced in \na public office of considerable importance, that he did \nnot discharge it in so judicious and clear-sighted a \nmanner as his high intellectual fame might lead most \npersons to expect * " He sought," that great judge \nof character said, " subtleties in every subject, and \ncarried into his official employments the spirit of the \nmethod of infinitely small quantities," b}^ which the \nmathematician solves his most abstruse problems. And \nthe complaint that mathematical studies make men \ninsensible to moral evidence and to poetical beauties, \nis so often repeated as to show that some opposition of \ntendency is commonly perceived between that exercise \nof the intellect which mathematics requires, and those \nprocesses which go on in our minds when moral cha- \nracter or imaginative beauty is the subject of our \ncontemplation. \n\nThus, while we acknowledge all the beauty and all \nthe value of the mathematical reasonings by which the- \n\n* "^A I\'interieur, le ministre Quinette fut remplace par Laplace, \ngeometre du premier rang, mais qui ne tarda pas h se montrer \nadministrateur plus que mediocre : des son premier travail les consuls \ns\'aper9urent qu\'ils s\'etaient tromp^s : Laplace ne saisissait auCune \nquestion sous son vrai point de vue : 11 cherchait des subtilites par- \ntout, n\'avait que des id^es problematiques, et portait enfin Tesprit \ndes infiniment petits dans I\'administration." \xe2\x80\x94 Memoires ecrits a Ste. \nIltlene, i. 3. \n\nu 2 \n\n\n\n292 \n\n\n\nllELIGIOUS TIEWS. \n\n\n\nconsequences of our general laws are deduced, we may \n3^et consider it possible tliat a philosopher, whose mind \nhas been mainly employed, and his intellectual habits \ndetermined, by this process of deduction, may possess, \nin a feeble and imperfect degree only, some of those \nfaculties by which truth is attained, and especially \ntruths such as regard our relation to that mind, which \nis the origin of all law, the source of first principles, \nand which must be immeasurably elevated above all \nderivative truths. It would, therefore, be far from \nsurprising, if there should be found, among the great \nauthors of the developments of the mechanical philo- \nsophy, some who had refused to refer the phenomena \nof the universe to a supreme mind, purpose, and will. \nAnd though this would be, to a believer in the being \nand government of God, a matter of sorrow and pain, \nit need not excite more surprise than if the same were \ntrue of a person of the most ordinary endowments, \nwhen it is recollected in what a disproportionate manner \nthe various faculties of such a philosopher may have \nbeen cultivated. And our apprehensions of injury to \nmankind from the influence of such examples will \ndiminish, when we consider that those mathematicians \nwhose minds have been less partially exercised, the \ngreat discoverers of the truths which others apply, \nthe philosophers who have looked upwards as well as \ndownwards, to the unknown as well as to the Imown, \nto ulterior as well as proximate principles, have never \nrested in this narrow and barren doctrine ; but have \nperpetually extended their view forwards, beyond mere \nmaterial laws and causes, to a First Cause of the \n\n\n\nDEDUCTIVE HABITS. \n\n\n\n293 \n\n\n\nmoral and material world, to which each advance in \nphilosophy might bring them nearer, though its highest \nattributes must probably ever remain indefinitely beyond \ntheir reach. \n\nIt scarcely needs, perhaps, to be noticed, that what \nwe here represent as the possible source of error is, \nnot the perfection of the mathematical habits of the \nmind, but the deficiency of the habit of apprehending \ntruth of other kinds ; \xe2\x80\x94 not a clear insight into the \nmathematical consequences of principles, but a want of \na clear view of the nature and foundation of principles ; \n\xe2\x80\x94 ^not the talent for generalising geometrical or mecha- \nnic^tl relations, but the tendency to erect such relations \ninto ultimate truths and ef&cient causes. The most \nconsummate mathematical skill may accompany and \nbe auxiliary to the most earnest piety, as it often has \nbeen. And an entire command of the conceptions and \nprocesses of mathematics is not only consistent with, \nbut is the necessary condition and principal instrument \nof every important step in the discovery of physical \nprinciples. Newton was eminent above the philosophers \nof his time, in no one talent so much as in the power \nof mathematical deduction. When he had caught sight \nof the law of universal gravitation, he traced it to its \nconsequences with a rapidity, a dexterity, a beauty of \nmathematical reasoning which no other person could \napproach ; so that on this account, if there had been no \nother, the establishment of the general law was possible \nto him alone. He still stands at the head of mathe- \nmaticians as well as of philosophical discoverers. But \nit never appeared to him, as it may have appeared to \n\n\n\n294 \n\n\n\nRELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\n\n\nsome mathematicians who have employed themselves \non his discoveries, that the general law was an ultimate \nand sufficient principle ; that the point to which he \nhad hung his chain of deduction was the highest point \nin the universe. Lagrange, a modern mathematician \nof transcendent genius, was in the hahit of saj^ing, \nm his aspkations after future fame, that Newton was \nfortunate in having had the system of the world for his \nproblem, since its theory could be discovered once \nonl}^ But Newton himself appears to have had no \nsuch persuasion that the problem he had solved was \nunique and final; he laboured to reduce gravity to \nsome higher law, and the forces of other physical \noperations to an analogy with those of gravity, and \ndeclared that all these were but steps in our advance \ntowards a First Cause. Between us and this First Cause, \nthe source of the universe and of its laws, we cannot \ndoubt that there intervene many successive steps of \nX)ossible discovery and generalisation, not less wide and \nstrikmg than the discovery of universal gravitation : \nbut it is still more certain that no extent or success of \nphysical investigation can carry us to any point which \nis not at an immeasurable distance from an adequate \nknowledge of Him. \n\nChap. YII. \xe2\x80\x94 On Final Causes. \n\nWe have pointed out a great number of instances \nwhere the mode in which the arrangements of nature \nproduce their effect, suggests, as we conceive, the behef \nthat this effect is to be considered as the end and \n\n\n\nFINAL CAUSES. \n\n\n\n295 \n\n\n\npurpose of these arrangements. The impression ^\'hich \nthus arises, of design and intention exercised in the \nformation of the world, or of the reality of Final Causes, \noperates on men\'s minds so generally, and increases \nso constantly on every additional examination of the \nphenomena of the miiverse, that we cannot but suppose \nsuch a belief to have a deep and stable foundation. \nAnd we conceive that in several of the comparatively \nfew cases in wliich such a belief has been rejected, the \naverseness to it has arisen from the mfluence of some \nof the causes mentioned in the last chapter ; the exclu- \nsive pm"suit, namely, of particular trains and modes \nof reasoning, till the mind becomes less capable of \nforming the conceptions and making the exertions \nwhich are requisite for the apprehension of truths not \nincluded among its usual subjects of thought. \n\nI. This seems to be the case with those who maintain \nthat purpose and design cannot be inferred or deduced \nfrom the arrangements which we see around us, by any \nprocess of reasoning. We can reason from effects to \ncauses, say such writers, only in cases where we know \nsometliing of the natm^e of the cause. We can infer \nfrom the works of men, the existence of design and \npurpose, because we know, from past observation, what \nkind of works human design and purpose can produce. \nBut the universe, considered as the work of God, cannot \nbe compared with any corresponding work, or judged of \nby any analogy with, known examples. How then can \nwe, in this case, they ask, infer design and purpose in \nthe artist of the miiverse ? On what principles, on \nwhat axioms, can we proceed, which shall include this \n\n\n\n296 \n\n\n\nRELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\n\n\nnecessarily singular instance, and tlius give legitimacy \nand validity to our reasonings. \n\nWhat has already been said on the subject of the \ntwo different processes by which we obtain principles, \nand by which we reason from them, will suggest the \nreply to these questions. When ^Ye collect design and \nj)urpose from the arrangements of the universe, we do \nnot arrive at our conclusion by a train of deductive \nreasoning, but by the conviction which such combi- \nnations as we perceive, immediately and directly \nimpress upon the mind. " Design must have had a \ndesigner." But such a principle can be of no avail to \none Avhom the contemplation or the description of the \nworld does not impress with the perception of design. \nIt is not therefore at the end, but at the beginning of \nour sjdlogisms, not among remote conclusions, but \namong original principles, that we must place the truth, \nthat such arrangements, manifestations, and pro- \nceedings as we behold about us imply a Being \nendowed with consciousness, design, and will, from \nwhom they proceed. \n\nThis is inevitably the mode in which such a con- \nviction is acquired ; and that it is so, we may the \nmore readily believe, when we consider that it is the \ncase with the design and will which we ascribe to man, \nno less than in that which we beheve to exist in God. \nAt first sight we might perhaps be tempted to say, that \nwe infer design and purpose from the works of man in \none case, because w^e have known these attributes in \nother cases produce effects in some measure similar. \nBut to this we must reply, by asking how we come \n\n\n\nFINAL CAUSES. \n\n\n\n297 \n\n\n\nto know the existence of human design and purpose at \nJirst, and at all ? What we see around us are certain \nappearances, things, successions of events; how come \nwe ever to ascribe to other men the thought and will of \nwhich we are conscious ourselves ? How do we come \nto believe that there are other men ? How are Ave led \nto elevate, in our conceptions, some of the objects which \nwe perceive into jmsons ? Undoubtedly, their actions, \ntheir words induce us to do this : we see that the \nmanifestations which we observe must be so under- \nstood, and no otherwise : we feel that such actions, \nsuch events, must be connected by consciousness and \npersonality; that the actions are not the actions of \nthings, but of persons; not necessary and without \nsignificance, like the fallmg of a stone, but voluntary \nand with purpose like what we do ourselves. But this is \nnot a result of reasoning : we do not infer this from any \nsimilar case which we have known ; since we are now \nspeaking of the first conception of a will and purpose \ndifferent from om\' own. In arriving at such knowledge, \nwe are aided only b}^ our own consciousness of what \nthought, purpose, will, are : and possessing this regu- \nlative principle, we so decipher and interpret the \ncomplex appearances which surround us, that we receive \nirresistibly the persuasion of the existence of other \nmen, with thought and will and purpose lil^e our own. \nAnd just in the same manner, when we examine \nattentively the adjustment of the parts of the human \nframe to each other and to the elements, the relation of \nthe properties of the earth to those of its inhabitants, \nor of the physical to the moral nature of man, the \n\n\n\n298 \n\n\n\nEELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\n\n\ntliouglit must arise and cling to our perceptions, \nhowever little it be encouraged, that this system, \neverywhere so full of wonderful combinations, suited to \nthe preservation, and well-being of living creatures, is \nalso the expression of the intention, wisdom, and \ngoodness of a personal Creator and Governor. \n\nWe conceive, then, that it is so far from being an \nunsatisfactory or unphilosophical process by which we \ncollect the existence of a Deity from the works of \ncreation, that the process corresponds most closely with \nthat on which rests the most steadfast of our con- \nvictions, next to that of our own existence, the belief of \nthe existence of other human beings. If any one ever \nwent so far in scepticism as to doubt the existence of \nany other person than himself, he might, so far as the \nargument from final causes is concerned, reject the \nbeing of God as well as that of man ; but without \ndwelling on the possibility of such fantasies, when we \nconsider how impossible it is for men in general not to \nattribute personality, purpose, thought, will to each \nother, in virtue of certain combinations of appearances \nand actions, we must deem them most consistent and \nreasonable in attributing also personality and purpose \nto God, in virtue of the whole assemblage of appearances \nand actions which constitute the universe, full as it is \nof combinations from which such a suggestion springs. \nThe vividness, the constancy of the belief of a wise and \ngood Being, thus governing the world, may be different \nin different men, according to their habit of directing \ntheir thoughts to the subject; but such a belief is \nundoubtedly capable of becoming lively and steadfast \n\n\n\nriNAL CAUSES. \n\n\n\n299 \n\n\n\nin the highest degree. It has been entertained and \ncherished by enlightened and well-regulated minds in \nall ages ; and has been, at least since the rise of \n\n\xe2\x96\xa0 Christianity, not only the belief, but a pervading and \nruling principle of action of many men, and of whole \ncommunities. The idea may be rendered more faint \nby turning the mind away from it, and, perhaps by \nindulging too exclusively in abstract and general \nspeculations. It grows stronger by an actual study of \nthe details of the creation ; and, as regards the practical \nconsequences of such a belief, by a habit of referring \nour actions and hopes to such a Governor. In this \nway it is capable of becoming as real and fixed an \nimpression as that of a human friend and master ; and \n\n. all that we can learn, by observing the course of men\'s \nfeelings and actions, tends to convince us, that this \n\n\xe2\x80\xa2belief of the being and presence and government of \nGod, leads to the most elevated and beneficial frame \nof mind of which man is capable. \n\nII. How natui\'al and almost inevitable is this per- \nsuasion of the reahty of Final Causes and consequent \nbelief in the personality of the Deity, we may gather \nby observing how constantly it recurs to the thoughts, \neven of those who, in consequence of such peculiarities \nof mental discipline as have been described, have \nrepelled and resisted the impression. \n\nThus, Laplace, of whom we have already spoken, as \n\n\'one of the greatest mathematicians of modern times, \nexpresses his conviction that the supposed evidence of \nfinal causes will disappear as our knowledge advances, \nand that they only seem to exist in those cases where \n\n\n\n300 \n\n\n\nRELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\n\n\nour ignorance leaves room for such a mistake. " Let \nus run over," he says, " the history of the progress of \nthe human mind and its errors : we shall perpetually \nsee final causes pushed away to the bounds of its \nknowledge. These causes, which Newton removed to \nthe limits of the solar sj^stem, were not long ago \nconceived to obtain in the atmosphere, and employed \nin explaining meteors : they are, therefore, in the \neyes of the philosopher nothing more than the ex- \npression of the ignorance in which we are of the real \ncauses." \n\nWe may observe that we have endeavoured to give \na very different, and, as we believe, a far truer view \nof the effect which philosophy has produced on our \nknowledge of final causes. We have shown, we trust, \nthat the notion of design and end is transferred by the \nresearches of science, not from the domain of our \nknowledge to that of our ignorance, but merely from \nthe region of facts to that of laws. We hold that, in \nthis form, final causes in the atmosphere are still to be \nconceived to obtain, no less than in an earlier state \nof meteorological knowledge ; and that Newton was \nright, when he believed that he had established \ntheir reality in the solar system, not expelled them \nfrom it. \n\nBut our more peculiar business at present is to \nobserve that Laplace himself, in describing the arrange- \nments by which the stabihty of the solar system is \nsecured, uses language which shows how irresistibly \nthese arrangements suggest an adaptation to its pre- \nservation as an encL If in his expressions we were to \n\n\n\nFINAL CAUSES. \n\n\n\n301 \n\n\n\nsubstitute the Deity for the abstraction " nature " \nwhich he employs, his reflection would coincide with \nthat which the most religious philosopher would enter- \ntain. " It seems that \' God \' has ordered everything \nin the heavens to ensure the duration of the planetary \nsystem, by vieivs similar to those which He appears \nto us so admirably to follow upon the earth, for the \npreservation of animals and the perpetuity of species.* \nThis consideration alone would explain the disposition \nof the system, if it were not the business of the \ngeometer to go further." It may be possible for the \ngeometer to go further; but he must be strangely \nbluided by his peculiar pursuits, if, when he has dis- \ncovered the mode in w^hich these views are answered, \nhe supposes himself to have obtained a proof that there \nare no view^s at all. It would be as if the savage, who \nhad marvelled at the steady w^orking of the steam- \nt engine, should cease to consider it a work of art, as \n; soon as the self-regulating part of the mechanism had \n1 been explained to him. \n\nThe unsuccessful struggle in which those persons \n\xe2\x80\xa2 engage, wdio attempt to throw off the impression of \n\' design in the creation, appears in an amusing manner \nthrough the simplicity of the ancient Roman poet of \nthis school. Lucretius maintains that the eye was not \nmade for seeing, nor the ear for hearing. But the \nterms in which he recommends this doctrine show^ how \n\n* " II semble que la nature ait tout disposd dans le ciel, pour assurer \nla duree du systeme planetaire, par des vues semblables h celles qu\'elle \nnous parait suivre si admirablement sur la terra, pour la conservatioa \ndes individus et la perp^tuitd des especes." \xe2\x80\x94 Syst. c^w Monde, p. 442. \n\n\n\n30^ \n\n\n\nRELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\n\n\nliarcl lie knew it to be for men to entertain such an \nopinion. His advice is \xe2\x80\x94 \n\nIllud in his rebus vitium veJienienter et istum \nEffugere errorem, vitareque prceineditator, \nLumina ne facias oculorum clara creata, \nProspicere iit possimus. \xe2\x80\x94 iv. 823. \n\n\'Gainst their preposterous error guard thy mind \nWho say each organ was for use design\' d ; \nThink not the visual orbs, so clear, so bright, \nWere furnish\'d for the purposes of sight. \n\nUndoubtedly the poet is so far right, that a most \n"vehement" caution and vigilant "premeditation" are \nnecessary to avoid the "vice and error" of such a per- \nsuasion. The study of the adaptations of the human \nframe is so convincing, that it carries the mind with \nit, in spite of the resistance suggested by speculative \nsystems. Cabanis, a modern French physiological \nwriter of great eminence, may be selected as a proof \nof this. Both by the general character of his own \nspeculations, and by the tone of thinking prevalent \naround liim, the consideration of design in the works \nof nature was abhorrent from his plan. Accordingly, \nhe joins in repeating Bacon\'s unfavourable mention \nof final causes. Yet when he comes to speak of the \nlaws of reproduction of the human race, he appears to \nfeel himself compelled to admit the irresistible manner \nin which such views force themselves on the mind. \n" I regard," he says, " with the great Bacon, the \nphilosophy of final causes as barren ; but I have else- \nwhere acknowledged that it was very difficult for the \n\n\n\nFINAL CAUSES. \n\n\n\n303 \n\n\n\nmost cautious man (I\'liomme le plus reserve) never to \nhave recourse to tliem in his explanations." * \n\nIII. It may be worth our while to consider for a \nmoment the opinion here referred to by Cabanis, of \nthe propriety of excluding the consideration of final \ncauses from our natural philosophy. The great authority \nof Bacon is usually adduced on this subject. " The \nhandhng of final causes," says he, "mixed with the \nrest in physical inquiries, hath intercepted the severe \nand diligent inquiry of all real and physical causes, \nand given men the occasion to stay upon these satis- \nfactory and specious . causes, to the great arrest and \nprejudice of farther discovery." t \n\nA moment\'s attention will show how well this repre- \nsentation agrees with that which we have urged, and \nhow far it is from dissuading the reference to final \ncauses in reasonings like those on which we are \nemployed. Final causes are to be excluded from \'phy- \nsical inquiry; that is, we are not to assume that we \nknow the objects of the Creator\'s design, and put this \nassumed purpose in the place of a physical cause. We \nare not to think it a sufficient account of the clouds \nthat they are for watering the earth (to take Bacon\'s \nexamples), or "that the solidness of the earth is for \nthe station and mansion of living creatures." The \nphysical philosopher has it for his business to trace \nclouds to the laws of evaporation and condensation ; \nto determine the magnitude and mode of action of the \nforces of cohesion and crystalHsation by which the \n\n* Rapports du Physique et du Moral de THomme, i., 299, \n+ De Augment. Sc. ii,, 105, \n\n\n\n304 \n\n\n\nRELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\n\n\nmaterials of the earth are made solid and firm. This \nhe does, making no use of the notion of final causes : \nand it is precisely because he has thus established his \ntheories independently of any assumption of an end, \nthat the end, when, after all., it returns upon him and \ncannot be evaded, becomes an irresistible evidence of \nan intelligent legislator. He finds that the effects, \nof which the use is obvious, are produced by most \nsimj)le and comprehensive laws ; and when he has \nobtained this view, he is struck by the beauty of the \nmeans, by the refined and skilful manner in which the \nuseful eft\'ects are brought about; \xe2\x80\x94 points different from \nthose to which his researches were directed. We have \nalready seen, in the very case of which we have been \nspeaking, namely, the laws by which the clouds are \nformed and distribute their showers over the earth, \nhow strongly those who have most closely and exten- \nsively examined the arrangements there employed (as \nHoward, Dalton, and Black) have been impressed with \nthe harmony and beauty wliich these contrivances \nmanifest. \n\nWe may find a further assertion of this view of the \nproper use of final causes in philosophy, by referring \nto the works of one of the greatest of our philosophers, \nand one of the most pious of our writers, Boyle, who \nhas an Essay on this subject. I am by all means," \nsays he, "for encouraging the contemplation of the \ncelestial part of the world, and the shining globes that \nadorn it, and especially the sun and moon, in order \nto raise our admiration of the stupendous power and \nwisdom of Him who was able to frame such immense \n\n\n\nPINAL CAUSES. \n\n\n\n305 \n\n\n\nbodies ; and notwithstanding their vast bulk and scarce \nconceivable rapidity, keep them for so many ages \nconstant both to the lines and degrees of their motion, \nwithout interfering with one another. And doubtless \nwe ought to return thanks and praises to the Divine \ngoodness for having so placed the sun and moon, and \ndetermined the former, or else the earth, to move in \nparticular lines for the good of men and other animals ; \nand how disadvantageous it would have been to the \ninhabitants of the earth if the luminaries had moved \nafter a different manner. I dare not, however, affirm \nthat the sun, moon, and other celestial bodies were \nmade solely for the use of man : much less presume to \nprove one system of the icorld to he true and another \nfalse ; because the former is better fitted to the conve- \nnience of mankind, or the other less suited, or perhaps \naltogether useless to that end.\'\' \n\nThis passage exliibits, we conceive, that combination \nof feelings which ought to mark the character of the \nreligious natural x3hilosopher ; an earnest piety ready to \ndraw nutriment from the contemplation of established \nphysical truths ; joined with a philosophical caution, \nwhich is not seduced by the anticipation of such con- \ntemplations, to pervert the strict course of physical \ninquiry. \n\nIt is precisely through this philosophical care and \nscrupulousness that our views of final causes acquire \ntheir force and value as aids to religion. The object \nof such views is not to lead us to i)hysical truth, but to \nconnect such truth, obtained by its proper processes \nand methods, with our views of God, the master of the \n\n\n\n306 \n\n\n\nBELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\n\n\nuniverse, through those laws and relations which are \nthus placed beyond dispute. \n\nBacon\'s comparison of final causes to the vestal \nvirgins is one of those poignant sayings, so frequent in \nhis writings, which it is not easy to forget. *\'Like \nthem," he says, "they are dedicated to God, and are \nbarren." But to any one who reads his work it \nwill appear in what spirit this was meant. " Not \nbecause those final causes are not true and worthy to \nbe inquired, being kept within their own province." \n(Of the Advancement of Learning, b. ii., p. 142.) If \nhe had had occasion to develope his simile, full of latent \nmeaning as his similes so often are, he would probably \nhave said, that to these final causes barrenness was no \nreproach, seeing they ought to be, not the mothers \nbut the daughters of our natural sciences ; and that \nthey were barren, not by imperfection of their nature, \nbut in order that they might be kept pure and undefiled, \nand so fit ministers in the temple of God. \n\n\n\nChap. VIII. \xe2\x80\x94 On the Physical Agency of the Deity. \n\nI. We are not to expect that physical investigation \ncan enable us to conceive the manner in which God \nacts upon the members of the universe. The question, \n" Canst thou by searching find out God ? " must silence \nthe boastings of science as well as the repinings of \nadversity. Indeed, science shows us, far more clearly \nthan the conceptions of every day reason, at what an \nimmeasurable distance we are from any faculty of \nconceiving how the universe, material and moral, is the \n\n\n\nAGENCY OF THE DEITY. \n\n\n\n307 \n\n\n\nwork of the Deity. But with regard to the material \nworld, we can at least go so far as this; \xe2\x80\x94 we can \nj)erceive that events are brought about, not by insulated \ninterpositions of divine power exerted in each particular \ncase, but by the establishment of general laws. This, \nwhich is the view of the universe proper to science, \nwhose of&ce it is to search out these laws, is also the \nview which, throughout this work, we have endeavoured \nto keep present to the mind of the reader. We have \nattempted to show that it combines itself most readily \nand harmoniously with the . doctrines of Natural \nTheology ; that the arguments for those doctrines are \nstrengthened, the difficulties which affect them removed, \nby keeping it steadily before us. "We conceive, there- \nfore, that the religious philosopher will do well to bear \nthis conception in his mind. God is the author and \ngovernor of the universe through the laws which he has \ngiven to its parts, the properties wliich he has impressed \nupon its constituent elements : these laws and j)ro- \nperties are, as we have already said, the instruments \nwith wliich he works : the institution of such laws, the \nselection of the quantities which they involve, their \ncombination and application, are the modes in which \nhe exerts and manifests his power, his wisdom, his \ngoodness : through these attributes, thus exercised, the \nCreator of all, shapes, moves, sustains and guides the \nvisible creation. \n\nThis has been the view of the relation of the Deity \nto the universe entertained by the most sagacious and \ncomprehensive minds ever since the true object of \nnatural philosophy has been clearly and steadily appre- \n\nX 2 \n\n\n\n308 \n\n\n\nllELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\n\n\nliended. The great writer who was the first to give \nphilosophers a distinct and commanding view of this \nobject, thus expresses himself in his " Confession of \nFaith : " "I believe \xe2\x80\x94 that notwithstanding God hath \nrested and ceased from creating since the first Sabbath, \nvet, nevertheless, he doth accomplish and fulfil his \ndivine will in all things, great and small, singular \nand general, as fully and exactly by providence, as \nhe could by miracle and new creation, though his \nworking be not immediate and direct, but b}^ compass ; \nnot violating Nature, which is his own law upon the \ncreature." \n\nAnd one of our own time, whom we can no longer \nhesitate to place among the worthiest disciples of the \nschool of Bacon, conveys the same thought in the \nfollowing passage : " The Divine Author of the universe \ncannot be supposed to have laid down particular laws, \nenumerating all individual contingencies, which his \nmaterials have understood and obey \xe2\x80\x94 this would be to \nattribute to him the imperfections of human legislation ; \n\xe2\x80\x94 but rather, by creating them endued with certain \nfixed qualities and powers, he has impressed them in \ntheir origin with the sioirit, not the letter of his law, and \nmade all their subsequent combinations and relations \ninevitable consequences of this first impression." * \n\nII. This, which thus appears to be the mode of the \nDeity\'s operation in the material world, requires some \nattention on our part in order to understand it with \nproper clearness. One reason of this is, that it is \na mode of operation altogether different from that in \n\n* Herscliel on the Study of Nat. Phil. Art. 27. \n\n\n\nAGENCY OF THE DEITY. \n\n\n\n309 \n\n\n\nwhich we are able to make matter fulfil our designs. \nMan can construct exquisite machines, can call in vast \npowers, can form extensive combinations, in order to \nbring about results which he has in view. But in all \nthis he is only taking advantage of laws of nature \nwhich already exist ; he is applying to his use qualities \nwhich matter already possesses. Nor can he by any \neffort do more. He can establish no new law of nature \nwhich is not a result of the existing ones. He can \ninvest matter with no new properties which are not \nmodifications of its present attributes. His greatest \nadvances in skill and power are made when he calls \nto his aid forces which before existed unemployed, or \nwhen he discovers so much of the habits of some of the \nelements as to be able to bend them to his purpose. \nHe navigates the ocean by the assistance of the winds \nwhich he cannot raise or still : and even if we suppose \nhim able to control the course of these, his yet \nunsubjugated ministers, this could only be done by \nstudying their characters, by learning more thoroughly \nthe laws of air and heat and moisture. He cannot give \nthe minutest portion of the atmosphere new relations, a \nnew course of expansion, new laws of motion. But the \nDivine operations, on the other hand, include something \nmuch higher. They take in the estabhshment of the \nlaws of the elements, as well as the combination of \nthese laws, and the determination of the distribution \nand quantity of the materials on which they shall \nproduce their effect. We must conceive that the \nSupreme Power has ordained that air shall be rarefied, \nand water turned into vapour, by heat ; no less than \n\n\n\n310 RELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\nthat lie has combined air and water so as to sprinkle \nthe earth with showers, and determined the quantity of \nheat and air and water, so that the showers shall be as \nbeneficial as they are. \n\nAVe may and must, therefore, in our conceptions of \nthe Divine purpose and agency, go beyond the analogy \nof human contrivances. We must conceive the Deity, \nnot only as constructing the most refined and vast \nmachinery, with which, as we have already seen, the \nuniverse is filled ; but w^e must also imagine him as \nestablishing those properties by which such machinery \nis possible : as giving to the materials of his structure \nthe qualities by which the material is fitted to its use. \nThere is much to be found, in natural objects, of the \nsame kind of contrivance which is common to these and \nto human inventions ; there are mechanical devices, \noperations of the atmospheric elements, chemical pro- \ncesses ; \xe2\x80\x94 many such have been pointed out, many more \nexist. But besides these cases of the combination of \nmeans, which we seem able to understand without \nmuch difficulty, we are led to consider the Divme \nBeing as the autJior of the laivs of chemical, of physical, \nand of mechanical action, and of such other laws as \nmake matter what it is ; \xe2\x80\x94 and this is a view which no \nanalogy of human inventions, no knowledge of human \npowers, at all assist us to embody or understand. \nScience, therefore, as we have said, wdiile it discloses to \nus the mode of instrumentahty employed by the Deity, \nconvinces us, more effectually than ever, of the impos- \nsibihty of conceiving God\'s actions by assimilating \nthem to our own. \n\n\n\nAGENCY OF THE DEITY. \n\n\n\n311 \n\n\n\nIII. The laws of material nature, such as we have \ndescribed them, operate at all times, and in all places ; \naffect every province of the universe, and involve every \nrelation of its parts. Wlierever these laws appear, we \nhave a manifestation of the intelligence by which they \nwere established. But a law supposes an agent, and a \npower ; for it is the mode according to which the agent \nproceeds, the order according to which the power acts. \nWithout the presence of such an agent, of such a \npower, conscious of the relations on which the law \ndepends, producing the effects which the law prescribes,, \nthe law can have no ef&cacy, no existence. Hence we \ninfer that the intelligence by which the law is ordained, \nthe power by which it is put in action, must be present \nat all times and in all places where the effects of the \nlaw occur ; that thus the knowledge and the agency of \nthe Divine Being pervade every portion of the universe,, \nproducing all action and passion, all permanence and \nchange. The laws of nature are the laws which he, \nin his wisdom, prescribes to his own acts ; his universal \npresence is the necessary condition of any course of \nevents, his universal agency the only origin of any \nefficient force. \n\nThis view of the relation of the universe to God has \nbeen entertained by many of the most eminent of \nthose who have combined the consideration of the \nmaterial world with the contemplation of God himself. \nIt may therefore be of use to illustrate it by a few \nquotations, and the more so, as we find this idea \nremarkably dwelt upon in the works of that writer \nwhose religious views must always have a peculiar \n\n\n\n312 \n\n\n\nRELIGIOUS YIE^VS. \n\n\n\ninterest for the cultivators of physical science, the great \nNewton. \n\nThus, in the observations on the nature of the Deity \nwith which he closes the " Opticks," he declares the \nvarious portions of the world, organic and inorganic, \n" can be the effect of nothing else than the wisdom and \nskill of a powerful ever-living Agent, who being in all \nplaces, is more able by his will to move the bodies \nwithin his boundless uniform sensorium, and thereby \nto form and reform the parts of the universe, than we \nare by our will to move the parts of our own bodies." \nAnd in the Scholium at the end of the " Principia," he \nsays, " God is one and the same God always and \neverywhere. He is omnipresent, not by means of his \nvirtue alone, but also by his substance, for virtue \ncannot subsist without substance. In him all things \nare contained, and move, but without mutual passion : \nGod is not acted upon by the motions of bodies ; and \nthey suffer no resistance from the omnipresence of \nGod." And he refers to several passages confirmatory \nof this view, not only in the Scriptures, but also in \nwriters who hand down to us the opinions of some of \nthe most philoso23hical thinkers of the pagan world. \nHe does not disdain to quote the poets, and among the \nrest, the verses of Yirgil ; \n\nPrincipio ccelum ac terras camposque liquentes \nLucentemque globum lunje, Titauiaque astra, \nSpiritvis intus alit, totamque infusa per artus \nMens agitat molem et maguo se corpore miscet : \n\nwarning his reader, however, agamst the doctrine wliich \nsuch expressions as these are sometimes understood to \n\n\n\nAGENCY OF THE DEITY. \n\n\n\nexpress : "All these things he rules, not as tlie soul of \nthe world, but as the Lord of all." \n\nClarke, the friend and disciple of Newton, is one \nof those who has most strenuously put forwards the \nopinion of which we are speaking, " All tilings which \nwe commonly saj^ are the effects of the natural powers \nof matter and laws of motion \xe2\x80\x94 are, indeed (if we will \nspeak strictly and properly), the effects of God\'s acting \nupon matter continually and at every moment, either \nimmediately hy himself, or mediately by some created \nintelligent being. Consequently there is no such \nthing as the cause of nature, or the power of nature," \nindependent of the effects produced by the will of \nGod. \n\nDugald Stewart has adopted and illustrated the same \nopinion, and quotes with admiration the well-lmown \npassage of Pope, concerning the Divine Agency, which \n\nLives through all life, extends through all extent. \nSpreads undivided, operates unspent." \n\nMr. Stewart, with no less reasonableness than charity, \nasserts the propriety of interpreting such passages \naccording to the scope and spirit of the reasonings \nvdth which they are connected ; * since, though by a \ncaptious reader they might be associated with erroneous \nviews of the Deity, they may be susceptible of a more \nfavourable construction ; and we may often see in them \nonly the results of the necessary imperfection of our \nlanguage, when we dwell upon the omnipresence and \nuniversal activity of God. \n\n* Phil, of Act. and Moral Powers, i. 373. \n\n\n\n314 \n\n\n\nEELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\n\n\nFinally, we may add that the same opinions still \nobtain the assent of the best philosophers and divines \nof our time. Sir John Herschel says (Discourse on \nthe Study of Natural Philosophy, p. 37), "We would \nno way be understood to deny the constant exercise of \nHis du^ect power in maintaining the system of nature ; \nor the ultimate emanation, of every energy wdiich \nmaterial agents exert, from His immediate will, acting \nin conformity with His own laws." And the Bishop \nof London, in a note to his " Sermon on the Duty of \ncombining Religious Instruction with Intellectual Cul- \nture," observes, " The student in natural philosophy \nwill find rest from all those perplexities which are \noccasioned by the obscurity of causation, in the sup- \nposition which, although it was discredited by the \npatronage of Malebranche and the Cartesians, has \nbeen adopted by Clarke and Dugald Stewart, and \nwhich is by far the most sim^^le and sublime account \nof the matter ; that all the events which are contmually \ntaking place in the different parts of the material \nuniverse, are the immediate effects of the divine \nagency." \n\nChap. IX, \xe2\x80\x94 On the Impression produced hy considering the Nature and \nProspects of Science ; or, on the Impossibility of the Progress of our \nKnowledge ever e^iabling us to comprehend the Nature of the Deity. \n\nIf we were to stop at the view presented in the last \nchapter, it might be supposed that \xe2\x80\x94 by considering \nGod as eternal and omnipresent, conscious of all the \nrelations, and of all the objects of the universe, insti- \ntuting laws founded on the contemplation of these \n\n\n\nINCOMPIIEHENSIBLE NATUEE OF GOD. \n\n\n\n315 \n\n\n\nrelations, and carrying these laws into effect by his \nimmediate energy, \xe2\x80\x94 we had attained to a conception, \nin some degree definite, of the Deity, such as natural \nphiloso^Dhy leads us to conceive him. But by resting \nin this mode of conception, we should overlook, or at \nleast should disconnect from our philosophical doctrines, \nall that most interests and affects us in the character \nof the Creator and Preserver of the world ; namely, \nthat he is the lawgiver and judge of our actions ; the \nproper object of our prayer and adoration ; the source \nfrom which we may hope for moral strength here, and \nfor the reward of our obedience and the elevation of our \nnature in another state of existence. \n\nWe are very far from believing that ou.r philosophy \nalone can give us such assurance of these important \ntruths as is requisite for our guidance and support; \nbut we think that even our physical philosophy will \npoint out to us the necessity of proceeding far beyond \nthat conception of God, which represents him merely \nas the mind in which reside all the contrivance, law, \nand energy of the material world. We believe that the \nview of the universe which modern science has already \nopened to us, compared with the prospect of what \nshe has still to do in pursuing the path on which she \nhas just entered, will show us how immeasurably \ninadequate such a mode of conception would be : and \nthat if we take into our account, as we must in reason \ndo, all that of which we have knowledge and conscious- \nness, and of which we have as yet no systematic \nscience, we shall be led to a conviction that the \nCreator and Preserver of the material world must also \n\n\n\n316 \n\n\n\nRELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\n\n\ncontain in him such properties and attributes as imply \nhis moral character, and as fall in most consistently \nwith all that we learn in any other way of his pro- \nvidence and holiness, his justice and mercy. \n\nI. The sciences which have at present acquired any \nconsiderable degree of completeness, are those in \nwhich an extensive and varied collection of phenomena, \nand their proximate causes, have been reduced to a \nfew simple general laws. Such are Astronomy and \nMechanics, and perhaps, so far as its physical condi- \ntions are concerned, Optics. Other portions of human \nknowledge can be considered as perfect sciences, in any \nstrict sense of the term, only when they have assumed \nthis form; when the various appearances which they \ninvolve are reduced to a few principles, such as the \nlaws of motion and the mechanical properties of the \nluminiierous ether. If we could trace the endless \nvarieties of the forms of crystals, and the complicated \nresults of chemical composition, to some one compre- \nhensive law necessarily pointing out the crystalline \nform of any given chemical compound, Mineralogy \nwould become an exact science. As yet, however, we \ncan scarcely boast of the existence of any other such \nsciences than those "which we at first mentioned : and \nso far therefore as we attempt to give definiteness to \nour conception of the Deity, by considering him as the \nintelligent depositary and executor of laws of nature, \nwe can subordinate to such a mode of conception no \nportion of the creation, save the mechanical movements \nof the universe, and the propagation and properties of \nlight. \n\n\n\nINCOMPEEHENSIBLE NATUllE OF GOD. 317 \n\n"II. And if we attempt to argue concerning the nature \nof the laws and relations which govern those provinces \nof creation whither our science has not yet reached, by \napplying some analogy borrowed from cases where it \nhas been successful, we have no chance of obtaining \nany except the most erroneous and worthless guesses. \nThe history of human speculations, as well as the \nnature of the objects of them, shows how certainly this \nmust happen. The great generalisations which have \nbeen established in one department of our knowledge, \nhave been applied in vain to the purpose of throwing \nlight on the other portions which still continue in \nobscurity. When the Newtonian philosophy had ex- \nplained so many mechanical facts, by the two great \nsteps, \xe2\x80\x94 of resolving the action of a whole mass into \nthe actions of its minutest particles, and considering \nthese particles as centres of force, \xe2\x80\x94 attempts were \nnaturally soon made to apply the same mode of expla- \nnation to facts of other different kinds. It was \nconceived that the whole of natural philosophy must \nconsist in investigating the laws of force by which \nparticles of different substances attracted and repelled, \nand thus produced motions, or vibrations to and from \nthe particles. Yet what were the next great discoveries \nin physics ? The action of a galvanic wire upon a \nmagnet, which is not to attract or repel it, but to turn \nit to the right and left; to produce motion, not to or \nfrom, but transverse to the line drawn to the acting \nparticles; and again, the undulatory theory of liglit, in \nwhich it appeared that the undulations must not be \nlongitudinal, as all philosophers, following the analogy \n\n\n\n318 \n\n\n\nRELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\n\n\nof all cases previously conceived, had, at first, supposed \nthem to be, but transverse to the path of the ray. \nHere, though the step from the known to the unknown \nwas comparatively small, when made conjecturaUy it \nwas made in a direction very wide of the truth. How \nimpossible then must it be to attain in this manner to \nany conception of a law which shall help us to under- \nstand the whole government of the universe ! \n\nIII. Still, however, in the laws of the luminiferous \nether, and of the other fluid, (if it be another fluid) by \nwhich galvanism and magnetism are connected, we \nhave something approaching nearly to mechanical \naction, and, possibly, hereafter to be identified with it. \nBut we cannot turn to any other part of our physical \nknowledge, without perceiving that the gulf which \nseparates it from the exact sciences is jei wider and \nmore obscure. Who shall enunciate for us, and in \nterms of what notions, the general law of chemical \ncomposition and decomposition ? Sometimes indeed we \ngive the name of attraction to the affinity by which we \nsuppose the particles of the various ingredients of \nbodies to be aggregated ; but no one can point out any \ncommon feature betw^een this and the attractions of \nwhich alone we know the exact effects. He who shall \ndiscover the true general law of the forces by which \nelements form compounds, will probably advance as \nfar beyond the discoveries of Newton, as Newton went \nbeyond Aristotle. But who shall say in w^hat direction \nthis vast flight shall be, and what new views it shaU \nopen to us of the manner in which matter obeys the \nlaws of the Creator? \n\n\n\nINCOMPREHENSIBLE NATUEE OF GOD. 319 \n\nIV. But suppose tliis flight performed ; \xe2\x80\x94 we are yet \nbut at the outset of the progress which must carry us \ntowards Him : we have yet to begin to learn aU that we \nare to know concerning the ultimate laws of organised \nbodies. What is the principle of life ? What is the \nrule of that action of which assimilation, secretion, \ndevelopement, are manifestations ? and which appears \nto be farther removed from mere chemistry than \nchemistry is from mechanics. And what again is the \nnew principle, as it seems to be, which is exhibited in \nthe irritability of an animal nerve ? \xe2\x80\x94 the existence of a \nsense ? How different is this from all the preceding \nnotions ! No efforts can avoid or conceal the vast but \ninscrutable chasm. Those theorists, who have main- \ntained most strenuously the possibility of tracing the \nphenomena of animal life to the influence of physical \nagents, have constantly been obhged to suppose a mode \nof agency altogether different from any yet known in \nphysics. Thus Lamarck, one of the most noted of \nsuch speculators, in describing the course of liis re- \nsearches, says, " I was soon persuaded that the internal \nsentiment constituted a power which it was necessary \nto take into account." And Bichat, another writer on \nthe same subject, while he declares his dissent from \nStahl, and the earher speculators, who had referred \neverything in the economy of life to a single principle, \nwhich they call the anima, the vital principle, and so \nforth, himself introduces several principles, or laws, \nall utterly foreign to the region of physics : namely, \norganic sensibility, organic contractility, animal sensi\' \nhility, animal contractility, and the like. Supposing \n\n\n\n320 \n\n\n\nIlELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\n\n\nsuch principles really to exist, how far enlarged and \nchanged must our views be before we can conceive \nthese properties, including the faculty of perception, \nwdiich they imply, to be produced by the will and \npower of one supreme Being, acting by fixed laws. \nYet without conceiving this, we cannot conceive the \nagency of that Deity who is incessantly thus acting, in \ncountless millions of forms and modes. \n\nHow strongly then does science represent God to us \nas incomprehensible ! his attributes as unfathomable ! \nHis power, his wisdom, his goodness, appear in each of \nthe provinces of nature which are thus brought before \nus ; and in each, the more we study them, the more \nimpressive, the more admirable do they appear. When \nthen we find these qualities manifested in each of so \nmany successive wa^^s, and each manifestation rising \nabove the preceding by unknown degrees, and through \na progression of unknown extent, what other language \ncan we use concerning such attributes than that they \nare infinite What mode of expression can the most \ncautious philosopher suggest, other than that He, to \nwhom we thus endeavour to approach, is infinitely wise, \npowerful, and good ? \n\nV. But wdtli sense and consciousness the history \nof living things only begins. They have instincts, \naffections, passions, wall. How entirely lost and \nbewildered do we find ourselves when we endeavour to \nconceive these faculties communicated by means of \ngeneral laws ! Yet they are so communicated from \nGod, and of such laws he is the lawgiver. At wdiat an \nimmeasurable interval is he thus placed above every \n\n\n\nINCOMPREHENSIBLE NATURE OF GOD. 821 \n\nthing which the creation of the inanimate world alone \nwould imply ; and how far must he transcend all ideas \nfounded on such laws as we find there ! \n\nVI. But we have still to go further and far higher. \nThe world of reason and of morality is a part of the \nsame creation, as the world of matter and of sense. \nThe will of man is swayed by rational motives ; its \nworkings are inevitably compared with a rule of action; \nhe has a conscience which speaks of right and wrong. \nThese are laws of man\'s nature no less than the laws \nof his material existence, or his animal impulses. Yet \nwhat entirely new conceptions do they involve ? How \nincapable of being resolved into, or assimilated to, the \nresults of mere matter, or mere sense ! Moral good \nand evil, merit and demerit, virtue and depravity, if \never they are the subjects of strict science, must belong \nto a science which views these things, not with reference \nto time or space, or mechanical causation, not with \nreference to fluid or ether, nervous irritabihty or \ncorporeal feehng, but to their own proper modes of \nconception ; with reference to the relations with which \nit is possible that these notions may be connected, and \nnot to relations suggested by other subjects of a \ncompletely extraneous and heterogeneous nature. And \naccording to such relations must the laws of the moral \nworld be apprehended, by any intelligence which con- \ntemplates them at all. \n\nThere can be no wider interval in philosophy than \nthe separation which must exist between the laws of \nmechanical force and motion, and the laws of free \nmoral action. Yet the tendenc}^ of men to assume, in \n\n\n\n322 \n\n\n\nEELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\n\n\nthe portions of human knowledge which are out of \ntheir reach, a similarity of type to those with which \nthey are familiar, can leap over even this interval. \nLaplace has asserted that " an intelligence which, at a \ngiven instant, should know all the forces by which \nnature is urged, and the respective situation of the \nbeings of which nature is composed, if, moreover, it \nwere sufficiently comprehensive to subject these data \nto calculation, would include in the same formula, the \nmovements of the largest bodies of the universe and \nthose of the slightest atom. Nothing would be uncer- \ntain to such an intelligence, and the future, no less \nthan the past, would be present to its eyes." If we \nspeak merely of mechanical actions, this miay perhaps \nbe assumed to be an admissible representation of the \nnature of their connexion in the sight of the Supreme \nIntelligence. But to the rest of what passes in the \nworld, such language is altogether inapplicable. A \nformula is a brief mode of denoting a rule of calculating \nin which numbers are to be used : and numerical \nmeasures are applicable only to things of which the \nrelations depend on time and space. By such elements, \nin such a mode, how are we to estimate happiness and \nvirtue, thought and will ? To speak of a formula with \nregard to such things, would be to assume that their \nlaws must needs take the shape of those laws of \nthe material world which our intellect most fully \ncomprehends. A more absurd and unphilosophical \nassumption we can hardly imagine. \n\nWe conceive, therefore, that the laws by which God \ngoverns His moral creatures reside in His mind, \n\n\n\nINCOMPREHENSIBLE NATURE OF GOD. 323 \n\ninvested with that kind of generality, whatever it be, of \nwhich such laws are capable ; but of the character of \nsuch general laws, we know nothing more certainly \nthan this, that it must be altogether different from the \ncharacter of those laws which regulate the material \nworld. The inevitable necessity of such a total differ- \nence is suggested by the analogy of all the knowledge \nwhich we possess and all the conceptions which we can \nform. And, accordingly, no persons, except those \nwhose minds have been biassed by some peculiar habit \nor course of thought, are likely to run into the confusion \nand perplexity which are produced by assimilating too \nclosely the government and direction of voluntary \nagents to the production of trains of mechanical and \nphysical phenomena. In whatever manner voluntary \nand moral agency depend upon the Supreme Being, it \nmust be in some such way that they still continue to \nbear the character of will, action, and morality. And, \nthough too exclusive an attention to material phe- \nnomena may sometimes have made physical philo- \nsophers blind to this manifest difference, it has been \nclearly seen and plainly asserted by those who have \ntaken the most comprehensive views of the nature and \ntendency of science. "I believe," says Bacon, in his \nConfession of Faith, " that, at the first the soul of man \nwas not produced by heaven or earth, but was breathed \nimmediately from God : so that the ways and pro- \nceedings of God ivith spirits are not included in nature ; \nthat is in the latvs of heaven and earth; but are \nreserved to the law of His secret will and grace; \nwherein God worketh still, and resteth not from the \n\n\n\n324 \n\n\n\nEELIGIOTJS VIEWS. \n\n\n\nwork of redemption, as lie resteth from the work of \ncreation ; but continneth worldng to the end of the \nworld." We may be permitted to observe here, that, \nwhen Bacon has thus to speak of God\'s dealings with \nHis moral creatures, he does not take his phraseology \nfrom those sciences which can offer none but false and \ndelusive analogies ; but helps out the inevitable scanti- \nness of our human knowledge, by words borrowed from \na source more fitted to supply our imperfections. Our \nnatural speculations cannot carry us to the ideas of \n\' grace \' and \' redemption ; \' but in the wide blank \nwhich they leave, of all that concerns our hopes of the \nDivine support and favour, the inestimable knowledge \nwhich revelation, as we conceive, gives us, finds ample \nroom and appropriate place. \n\nYII. Yet even in the view of our moral constitution \nwhich natural reason gives, we may trace laws that \nimply a personal relation to our Creator. How can we \navoid considering that as a true view of man\'s being \nand place, without which his best faculties are never \nfully developed, his noblest energies never called out, \nhis highest point of perfection never reached ? With- \nout the thought of a God over all, superintending \nour actions, approving our virtues, transcending our \nhighest conceptions of good, man would never rise to \nthose higher regions of moral excellence which we \nknow him to be capable of attaining. " To deny a \nGod," again says the great philosopher, " destroys \nmagnanimity and the raismg of human natm-e; for \ntake an example of a dog, and mark what a generosity \nand courage he will put on, when he finds himself \n\n\n\nINCOMPEEHENSTBLE NATURE OP GOD. 325 \n\nmaintained by a man ; who, to him, is instead, of a God, \nor melior natura : which courage is manifestly such, as \nthat creature, without that confidence of a better \nnature than his own, could never attain. So man, \nwhen he resteth and assureth himself upon divine \nprotection and favour, gathereth a force and faith, \nwhich human nature could not obtain. Therefore, as \natheism is in all respects hateful, so in this, that it \ndepriveth human nature of the means to exalt itself \nabove human frailty." * \n\nSuch a law, then, of reference to a Supremely Good \nBeing, is impressed upon our nature, as the condition \nand means of its highest moral advancement. And \nstrange indeed it would be if we should suppose, that \nin a system where all besides indicates purpose and \ndesign, this law should proceed from no such origin ; \nand no less inconceivable, that such a law, purposely \nimpressed upon man to purify and elevate his nature, \nshould delude and deceive him. \n\nVIII. Nothing remains, therefore, but that the \nCreator, who, for purposes that even we can see to be \nwise and good, has impressed upon man this disposition \nto look to him for support, for advancement, for such \nhappiness as is reconcilable with hoLmess ; \xe2\x80\x94 this \ntendency to beheve Him to be the union of all per- \nfection, the highest point of all intellectual and moral \nexcellence ; \xe2\x80\x94 is in reality such a guardian and judge? \nsuch a good, and wise, and perfect Being, as we thus \nirresistibly conceive Him. It would indeed be extra- \nvagant to assert- that the imagination of the creature, \n\n* Bacon. Essay on Atheism. \n\n\n\n326 \n\n\n\nRELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\n\n\nitself the work of God, can invent a higher point of \ngoodness, of justice, of holiness, than the Creator \nHimself possesses : that the Eternal Mmd, from whom \nour notions of good and right are derived, is not Him- \nself directed by the rules which these notions imply. \n\nIt is difficult to dwell steadily on such thoughts : \nbut they will at least serve to confirm the reflection \nwhich it was our object to illustrate ; namely, how \nincomparably the nature of God must be elevated \nabove any conceptions which our natural reason enables \nus to form : and we have been led to these views, it \nwill be recollected, by following the clue of which \nscience gave us the beginning. The Divine Mind \nmust be conceived by us as the seat of those laws of \nnature which we have discovered. It must be no less \nthe seat of those laws which we have not yet discovered, \nthough these may and must be of a character far \ndifferent from anything we can guess. The Supreme \nIntelligence must therefore contain the laws, each \naccording to their true dependence, of organic life, \nof sense of animal impulse, and must contain also the \npurpose and intent for which these powers were put in \nplay. But the Governing Mind must comprehend also \nthe laws of the responsible creatures which the world \ncontains, and must entertain the purposes for which \ntheir responsible agency was given them. It must \ninclude these laws and purposes, connected by means \nof the notions, which responsibihty implies, of desert \nand reward, of moral excellence in various degrees, and \nof well-bemg as associated with right doing. All the \nlaws which govern the moral world are expressions of \n\n\n\nINCOMPREHENSIBLE NATURE OE GOD. 327 \n\nthe thought and intentions of our Supreme Ruler. All \nthe contrivances for moral no less than for physical \ngood, for the peace of mind, and other rewards of \nvirtue, for the elevation and purification of individual \ncharacter, for the civilisation and refinement of states, \ntheir advancement in intellect and virtue, for the \ndiffusion of good, and the repression of evil : all the \nblessings that wait on perseverance and energy in a \ngood cause ; on unquenchable love of mankind, and \nunconquerable devotedness to truth ; on purity and \nself-denial ; on faith, hope, and charity ; \xe2\x80\x94 all these \nthings are indications of the character, will, and future \nintentions of that God, of whom we have endeavoured \nto track the footsteps upon earth, and to show His \nhandiwork in the heavens. " This God is our God, \nfor ever and ever." And if, endeavouring to trace \nthe plan of the vast labyrinth of laws by which the \nuniverse is governed, we are sometimes lost and \nbewildered, and can scarcely, or not at all, discern the \nlines by which pain, and sorrow, and vice, fall in with \na scheme directed to the strictest right and greatest \ngood, we yet find no room to faint or falter ; knowing \nthat these are the darkest and most tangled recesses \nof our knowledge ; that into them science has as yet \ncast no ray of light ; that in them reason has as yet \ncaught sight of no general law by which we may \nsecurely hold : while, in those regions where we can \nsee clearly, where science has thrown her strongest \nillumination upon the scheme of creation; where we \nhave had displayed to us the general laws which give \nrise to all the multifarious variety of particular facts; \xe2\x80\x94 \n\n\n\n328 \n\n\n\nRELIGIOUS VIEWS. \n\n\n\nwe find all full of wisdom, and harmony, and beauty : \nand all this wise selection of means, this harmonious \ncombination of laws, this beautiful symmetry of rela - \ntions, directed, with no exception which human investi- \ngation has yet discovered, to the preservation, the \ndiffusion, the well-being of those living things, which, \nthough of their nature we know so little, we cannot \ndoubt to be the worthiest objects of the Creator\'s care. \n\n\n\nTHE END. \n\n\n\nLONDON : \n\nBRADI5UEY AND EVANS, PPaNTESS, WHITEFEIAFS. \n\n\n\na ^cktt Catalogue of \nNEW BOOKS AT EEDUCED PKICES, \n\nPUBLISIIKU on SOLD BY \n\nHENRY G. BOHN, \n\nYORK STREET, COVENT GARDEN, LONDON. \n\n\n\nTHE COUPLXTE CATALOGUE OF NEW BOOKS AND EEMAINDEES, IN 100 PAGES KA1 \nBE HAD GRATIS. * \n\n%* All Ike Books advertised in the present Catalogue are neatly boarded in cloth, \n\nor bound. \n\n\n\nFINE ARTS, ARCHITECTURE, SCULPTURE, PAINTING, HERALDRY, \nANTIQUITIES, TOPOGRAPHY, SPORTING, PICTORIAL AND HIGHL? \nILLUSTRATED WORKS, ETC. ETC. \n\n\n\n\\NGLER S SOUVENIR. Fcap. Svo, emhellished with upwards of 60 beautiful En)?ravin(rs on \nSteel by Beckwitii and Topham, and hundreds of engraved Borders, every page beitiir s\\ir- \nro\xc2\xabnded (pub. at 18s.), cloth, gilt, Os. j\'ilt, 1S3C \n\nARTIST\'S BOOK OF FABLES, comprising a Series of Original Fables, illustrated by 2m \nexquisitely beautiful ICntrravini^s on Wood, by Harvey and other eminent Artists, after De- \nsig-ns by the late James Nokihcote, K.A. Post Svo, Portrait (pub. at 1/. ij.), cloth, \ngilt, 9s. j84i \n\nBARBER\'S ISLE OF WIGHT. 42 fine Steel Plates, and Dr. Manxell\'s Geological Map. \nSvo, gilt, cloth, lOs. Gd. jgig \n\nBEWICK\'S SELECT FABLES, with a Memoir, 8vo, with several Portraits of Bewick, and \nupwards of 330 Engravings on Wood, original impressions (pub. at U. Is.), bds. 10s\xc2\xab \n\nNewcastle, 1820 \n\nBILLINGTON\'S ARCHITECTURAL DIRECTOR, being an approved Guide to Archi- \ntccts, Drauirhtsnien, Students, Builders, and Workmen, to which is added a History of the \nArt. &c. and a Glossai y of Architecture. New Edition, enlarged, Svo, 100 Plates, cloth lettered\' \n(pub. at \\l. 8s.) 10s. (id. 18J\xc2\xab \n\nBOOK OF COSTUME, from the earliest period to the present time. Upwardsof 200 beautiful \nEngravings on Wood, by Linton. Svo (pub. at 1/. Is.), gilt cloth, gilt edges, 10s. Cd. 1847 \n\nBOOK OF GEMS, OR THE POETS AND ARTISTS OF GREAT BRITAIN. \n\n3 vols. 8vo. 1.50 exquisite Line Engravings after Turner, Bonikgton, Landseer, Roberts, \nMuLREADY, etc. etc.; also numerous Autographs (pub. at 41. lis. 6d.) Cloth elegantly gilt, \n21. 5s., or in morocco, 3/. 3s. \n\nBOOK or GEMS, OR THE MODERN POETS AND ARTISTS OF GREAT \n\nBRITAIN. 8vo. 50 exquisitely beautiful Line Bogravings after Turner, Boningion, etc. \netc. (pub. at ii. lis. Cd.), cloth elegantly gilt, 15s., or morocco, 1^. Is. 1814 \n\nBOOK OF RAPHAELS CARTOONS, BY CATTERMOLE. Svo. with an exquisite \nPortrait of Raphael, a View of Hampton Court, and seven very highly finished Steel Engrav- \nings of the celebrated Cartoons at Hamptoi. Court (pub. at las.), cloth, gilt, 7s. 6d. 1845 \n\nBOOK OF SHAKSPEARE GEMS. A Series of Landscape Il\'ustrations of the most inte- \nresting localities of Shakspeare\'s Dramas; with Historical and Descriptive Accounts, by \nWashikgion Irving, Jesse, W. Howitt, Wordsworth, Inglis. and otheTS. Svo, \nvriih 45 hisfhly-finished Steel Engravings (pub. at 11. lU. 6d.) gilt cloth, Us. \'^ii \n\nBOOK OF WAVER LY GEMS. A Series of 64 hiehly-Baiohed Line Engravings of tb\' lAOSt \ninterestino- Inciaeuts ami scenery in Wditer Scott\'s Xoveis, oy xieath, riNDEK, Roll." \xc2\xabnd \nethers, after Pictures by Lf.slik, Stothard, Cooper, Hc.waw, &c., with illustrative kW\xc2\xbbt- \nvress, Svo. (pub. at 11. Us. dd,), cloth, elegautly gilt, 15*. \n\nli \n\n\n\n2 \n\n\n\nCATALOGUE OF NEW BOOKS \n\n\n\nBROCKEDON S PASSES OF THE ALPS 2 vols, medium 4to. Containing 109 beautifu. \n\nEngravings (pub. at lol. 10s. in boards), half-bound morcoco, gilt edges, 3U 133. 6d. 1820 \n\nBRITTON S CATHEDRAL CHURCH OF LINCOLN, 4to, 16 fine Plates, by Lb Keux, \n\xe2\x96\xa0 ~ . - \xe2\x80\xa2 6d. 1837 \n\n, and is wanting In most of \n\n\n\n(pub. at 3/. 3s.), cloth, \\l. 3s. Royal 4to, Large Paper, cloth\' 1^. IJt. 6d. 1837 \nThis voiunie was published to complete Mr. Britton\'s Cathedrals, anc" \xe2\x96\xa0 \n\n\n\nBRYAN\'S DICTIONARY OF PAINTERS AND ENGRAVERS. New Edition, cor- \n\nrpcted, greatly eularged, and continued to che present time, by GtoRGK Stanley, \xc2\xa3sq^ com- \nplete in one larx* volume, impl. 8vo, numerous plates of monograms, 21. 2s. \n\nBULWER S PILGRIMS OF THE RHINE. 8vo. Embellished with 27 exooisite Line En- \n\ngravings after David Roberts, Maclise, and Parris (pub. at 11. lis. 6d.}, cloth giJt, U*. \n\nBURNETTS ILLUSTRATED EDITION OF SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS ON \n\nPAINTING. 4to, 12 fine Plates, cloth (pub. at 21. 2s.), U. Is. 1842 \n\xe2\x96\xa0 the same, large paper, royal 4to, proof impressions of Plates, cloth (pub. at 41 ii.), 21. 2s. \n\nCANOVA\'S WORKS, engraved in outline by Moses, with Descriptions and a Biographica\' \nMemoir by Cicognara. 3 vols. imp. 8vo, Ij5 plates, and fine Portrait by Worthington, half- \nbound morocco (pub. at 6(. 12s.) 21. 5s. \n\n\xe2\x80\xa2 the same, 3 vols. 4to, large paper, half-bound, uncut (pub. at 9^ IBs.), il i$. \n\n\xe2\x80\xa2 the same, 3 vols. 4to, large paper, India Proofs, in parts, (pub. at lol. 15s.) 71. 10\xc2\xbb. \n\nCARTER S ANCIENT ARCHITECTURE OF ENGLAND. lUustrated by I03 Copper- \n\n\xe2\x96\xa0 plate Engravings, comprising upwards of Tw o Thousand specimens. Edited by John Brit- \nton, Esq. Royal folio (pub. at 12/. 12s.), half-bound morocco, il. is. 1837 \n\nCARTERS ANCIENT SCULPTURE AND PAINTING NOW REMAINING \n\nIN ENGLAND, from the Earliest Period to the Rt ign of Henrv VIII. With Historical and \nCritical Illustrations, by Douce, Gough, Meyr. ck, D.iwsdx Turner, and Brittox. \nRoyal folio, with i20 large Engravings, many of whi -h are beautifully coloured, and several \nilluminated with gold (pub. at 15^. 13s.), naif bound morocco, 8/. 8s. 1838 \n\nCARTER S GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE, and Ai cient Buildings in England, with 120 \nViews, etched by himself. 4 vols, square 12mo (pub. . it 21. 2s.), half morocco, 18*. 1824 \n\nCATLIN\'S NORTH AMERICAN INDIANS. 2 va to. impl. 8vo. 360 Engravings (pub. at \n\n21. 12s. 6d.), cloth, emblematically gilt, U. 10*. 1848 \n\nCATTERMOLE\'S EVENINGS AT HADDON HA .L. 24 exquisite Engravings on Steel, \nfrom Designs by himself. Post 8vo (originally pub. at \\l. lis. 6d.), gilt cloth, gilt edges, 7s. fid. \n\nCHAMBERLAINE\'S IMITATIONS OF DRAWINJS from the Great Masters, in the \n\nRoyal Collection, engraved by Bartolozzi and others, impl. fol. 70 Plates (pub. at 121. I2s.), \nhalf-bound morocco, gilt edges, 51. 5s. \n\nCLAUDES LIBER VERITATIS. A Collection of 300 Engravings in imitation of the original \nDrawinss of Claude, by Earlom. 3 vols, folio (pub. at Zll. 10s.), half-bound morocco, gilt \nedges, 10/. 10s. \n\nCLAUDE, BEAUTIES OF, 24 FINE ENGRAVINGS, containing some of his choicest \nLandscapes, beautifully Engraved on Steel, folio, with descriptiv" letter-press, and Portrait, \nin a portfolio (pub. at 3/. 12s.), 1/. 5s. \n\nCOESVELT S PICTURE GALLERY. With an Introduction by Mrs. Jameson. Royal 4to \n90 Plates beautif Uly engraved in outline. India Proofs (pub, at 51. 5s.), half-bound morocco \nextra, 3/. 3s. 1836 \n\nCOOKE S SHIPPING AND CRAFT. A Series of 65 brilliant Etchings, comprising Pictur- \nesque, but at the same time extremely accurate Representations. RoyaUto (pub. at ii. ISs. 6d.J, \ngilt cloth, U. lis. 6d. \n\nCOOKES PICTURESQUE SCENERY OF LONDON AND ITS VICINITY, so beau- \n\ntiful Etchings, after Drawings by Calcott, Stakfield, Proui, Robkrts, riARDiNG, \nStaRK, and Cotman. Royal 4to. Proofs (pub. at 5/.), gilt cloth, 2i. 2s. \n\nCONEYS FOREIGN CATHEDRALS, HOTELS DE VILLE, TOWN HALLS, \n\nAND OTHER RE.VIARKABLE BCILDINGS IN FRANCE, HOLLAND, GER.MANY, \nAND ITALY. 32 fine large Plates. Imperial folio (pub. at 10/. lOs.), half morocco, gilt edges, \n3U 13i. 6d. 1842 \n\nCORNWALL, /N ILLUSTRATED ITINERARY OF; including Historical and Descrip \xe2\x96\xa0 \ntive Accounts. Imperial 8vo, illustrated by US beautiful Engraviiiiis on Steel ai\'d Wood, by \nLandells, H.kl-hci-iffe, Jackson, Williams, Sly, etc. after drawings by CaaswicK. \n(Pub. at 16s.), half morocco, 8s. 1812 \nCornwall is undoubtedly the most interesting county in England. \n\nCORONATION OF GEORGE THE FOURTH, by sir George Naylkr, In a Series of \n\nabove 49 magnificent Paintings of the Procession, Ceremonial, and Banquet, comprehending \nfaithful portraits of many of the distinguished Individuals who were present; with historical \nand descriptive letter press, atlas folio (pub. at 52L 10*.), half bovmd morocco, gill edges, \n12^. 12s. \n\nCOTMAN\'S SEPULCHRAL BRASSES !N NORFOLK AND SUFFOLK, te.iding to \nIllustrate the Ecclesiastical, Military, and Civil Cost\'jme of former ages, wit i Letter-press \nLcicriptia;.s, etc. by Dawson Turneh, Sir S. Meyt.ick, etc. 173 Plates. The enamelled \nBrasses are snleudidly illumijiated, 2 vols. impl. 4to half-bound morocco, gilt edges, 6/. 6s. 1W6. \n\n\xe2\x96\xa0 \'-cs saae, iarg": pap\xc2\xabr, imperii^ foiij, haxf :!ii;xocco, g\'-It ciiss, 8.\'. 8*. \n\n\n\nPUBLISHED OR SOLD BY H. G. BOHN. \n\n\n\ns \n\n\n\nCOTMAN S ETCHINGS OF ARCHITECTURAL REMAINS in various cou/ities in \nEngland, with Letter-press Descriptions by Rickman. 2 vols, imperiar folio, containing ii9 \nni^hly spirited Etchings (pub. at 2il.), half morocco, 8^. 8s. 1838 \n\nDANIELLS ORIENTAL SCENERY AND ANTIQUITIES. The original mairnificent \nedition, 150 splendid coloured Views, on the largest scale, of the Architecture, Antiquities, and \nLandscape Scenery of Kindoostan, 6 vols, in 3, elephant folio (pub. at 210^.], elegantly half- \nbound morocco, o2L lOs. \n\nDANIELLS ORIENTAL SCENERY, 6 vols, in 3, small folio, 150 Plates (pub. at m. 18*. \n\nhalf-l)ound morocco, 61. 6s. \nThis is reduced TrDEi the preceding largs work, and is uncoloured. \n\nDANIELL\'S ANIMATED NATURE, being Picturesque Delineations of the most interesting \n\nSubjects from all Branches of Natural History, 125 Engravings, with Leiter-pres-- \'^ca.. iptiou* \n2 vols, small folio (pub. at Ibl. 15s.), half morocco (uniform with the Oriental Scenery), 31. os. \n\nDON QUIXOTE, PICTORIAL EDITION. Translated by Jarvis, carefully revised. \nWith a copious original M emoir of Cervantes. Illustrated by upwards of 820 beautiful Wood \nEngravings, after the celebrated Designs of Tony Johannot, including 16 new and beautiful \nlarge Cuts, by ARMsmofiG, now tirst added. 2 vols, royal 8vo (pub. at 21, lOs.), cloth gi.t, \nU. 8s. 1813 \n\nDUL^ GALLERY, a Series of 50 Beautifully Coloured Plates from the most Celebrated \nPiciJur in this Remarkable Collection; executed by R. Cockeurn (Custodian). All \nmounted on Tinted Card-lioard in the manner of Drawings, imperial folio, including 4 very \nlarge additional Plates, published separately at from 3 to 4 guineas each, and not before \nincluded in the Series. In a handsome portfolio, with morocco hack (pub. at 40/.), 161. I6s, \n\n" This is one of the most splendid and interesting of the British Picture Galleries, and has \nfor some years been quite unattainable, even at the full price." \n\nEGYPT AND THE PYRAMIDS.\xe2\x80\x94 COL. VYSES GREAT WORK ON THE \n\nPYRAMIDS OF GIZEH. With an Appendix, by J. S. Perring, Esq., on the Pyramids at \nAbou Roash, the Fayoum, &c. &c. 2 vols, imperial 8vo, with 60 Plates, lithographed by \nHague (pub. at 21. 12s. 6U.), 11. Is. ISio \n\nEGYPT\xe2\x80\x94 PERRINGS FIFTY-EIGHT LARGE VIEWS AND ILLUSTRATIONS OF \n\nTHE PYRAMIDS OF GIZEH, ABOU ROASH, &c. Drawn from actual Survey and \nAdmeasurement. With Notes and Rel\'erences to Col. Vyse\'s great Work, also to Denon, the \ngreat French Work on Egypt, Roselliai, Belzoni, Burckhardt, Sir Gardner Wilkinson, Lane, \nand others. 3 Parts, elephant folio, the size of the great French " Eg^pte" (pub. at 15^. las.) \nin printed wrappers, 3/. 3s.; half-bound morocco, 41. 14s. 6d. 1842 \n\nENGLEFIELD\'S ISLE OF WIGHT. 4to. so large Plates, Engraved by Cooke, and a Geo \nlogical Map (pub. 71. 7s.), cloth, 2(!. as. Igjg \n\nFLAXMAN\'S HOMER. Seventy-five beautiful Compositions to the Iliad and Odyssey \nengraved under Flaxman\'s inspection, by Pirou, Moses, and Blake. 2 vols, oblong folio \n(pub. at ol. 5s.), boards 21. 2s. \xc2\xb0 jgQ^ \n\nFLAXMAN\'S /ESCHYLUS, Thirty-six beautiful Compositions from. Oblong folio (pub at \n21. 12s. 6d.), boards U. is. ^ isn \n\nFLAXMAN\'S HESIOD, Thirty-seven beautiful Compositions from. Oblong folio (pub at \n21. 12s. 6d.), boards U. 5s. jgjy \n" Flaxman\'s unequalled Compositions from Homer, jEschylus, and Hesiod, have long \nbeen the admiration of Europe; of their simplicity and beauty the pen is quite incapable of \nconveying an adequate impression."\xe2\x80\x94 Sir Thomas Lawrence. \n\nFLAXMAN\'S ACTS OF MERCY. A Series of Eight Compositions, in the manner of \n\nAncient Sculpture, engraved in imitation of the original Drawings, by F. C. Lewis. Oblong \nfolio (pub. at 2(1. 2s.), half-hound morocco, 16j. ^\' \' v^^^is. WDwng \n\nFROISSART, ILLUMINATED ILLUSTRATIONS OF. Seventy-four Plates, printed in \n\nGold and Colours. 2 vols, super-royal svo, hall-bound, uncut (pub. at it. 10s.), 31. lOs. \n\xe2\x80\xa2 the same, large paper, 2 vols, royal 4to, half-bound, uncut (pub. atltti. 10s.), 6/. 6\xc2\xbb. \n\nGELL AND CANDY\'S POMPEIANA; or, f^pography. Edifices, and Ornaments o/ \nPompeii. Original Series, containing the Resifet-of the Excavations previous to i819 2 vol*, \nroyal svo. best edition, with upwards of lOO beautiful Line Engravings by Goodall, Cookb \nHeath, Pye, etc. (pub. at 71. 4s.), boards, 3/. 3s. 182^ \n\nGEMS OF ART, 36 FINE -E\'NGRAVfNGS, after Rembrandt, Cdyp, Reynolds, Pot/a- \nsi.N, Muuij.io, Temers, Corregio, Va.ndervelde, folio, proof impressions, in nortfolio \n(pub. at8/.8s.), U. Us. 6rf. inviiu \n\nCILLRAY\'S CARICATURES, printed from the Original Plates, all engraved by himself \nbetween 1779 and 1810, comprising the best Political and Humorous Satires of the Reign of \nGeorge the Third, in upwards of tiuo highly spirited Engravings. In I large vol. atlas folio \n(exactly uniform with the origuial\' Hogarth, as sold by the advertises 1, haif-bQund Ted morocco ; \nextra, gilt edges, \xc2\xbbL 8s. \n\nGILPINS PRACTICAL HINTS UPON LANDSCAPE GARDENING, with soni* \n\nRemarks on Domestic ArcLiteclure. Royal ?vo, iMates, cloth (pub. at \\L.),.7s. \n\nGOETHES FAUST, ILLUSTRATED BY RET2SCH in 26 beautiful Outlines. Royal \n^tpjipuD. at U. Is.), gill cloth, U)s. Cd. \nThis e(?iUon contains a iransUtioa of the original poem, wiin Historical and descriptive notei. \n\nB 2 \n\n\n\nCATALOGUE OF NEW BOOKS \n\n\n\nGOODWIN\'S DOMESTIC ARCHITECTURE A Series of New Designs for Mansions, \nVillas, Kectory-Houses. Parsoiiage-Hnu.ses; Bailiff\'s, Gardener\'s, Gamekeeper\'s, and Park- \nGate Lodges: Cottages and other Residences, in tlie Grecian, Italian, and Old Englisli Style \nof Architecture : with Estimates. 2 vols, royal 4to, 90 Plates (pub. at al. 5s.), cloth, 21. I2s. 6d. \n\n\'^RINDLAYS (CAPT.) VIEWS IN INDIA, SCENERY, COSTUMF, AND ARCHI- \nTECTURE : chii 0.- m the Western Side of India. Atlas 4to. Consisting of 3G most beauti- \nfully coloured Plates, highly finished, in imitation of Drawings; with Descriptive Lettei- \npress. (Pub. at \\2l. 12s.), half-bound morocco, gilt edges, 8/. Si. 1830 \nThis is perhaps the most exquisitely-coloured volume of landscapes ever produced. \n\nfiANSARD\'S ILLUSTRATED BOOK OF ARCHERY. Being the complete History and \nPractice of the Art: interspersed with numerous Anecdotes; forming a complete Manual for \ntht Vowman. Svo. Illustrated by 39 beautiful Line Engravings, exquisitely finished, by \nExGLEHtART, PoRTBURY, etc., after Designs by Stephanoff (pub. at ll. lU.Ot/.), gilt cloth, \n\nHARRIS\'S GAME AND WILD ANIMALS OF SOUTHERN AFRICA. Large impl. \nfolio. 30 beau\'tifully coloured Engravings, with 30 Vignettes of Heads, Skins, &c. (pub. at \n10/. 10s.), hf. morocco, 61. 6s. 1814 \n\nHARRIS\'S WILD SPORTS OF SOUTHERN AFRICA. Impl. 8vo. 26 beautifully co- \nloured Engravings, and a Map (pub. at 21. 2s.), giit cloth, gilt edges, U, Is. 1844 \n\n\xe2\x80\xa2HEATH\'S CAR\'CATURE SCRAP BOOK, on 60 Sheets, containing upwards of lOOO Comic \nSubjects after Seymour, Cruikshank, Phiz, and other eminent Caricaturists, oblong folio \nJpuh. at 21. 2,\xc2\xab.), cloth, gilt, los. \n\nThis clever and entertaining volume is now enlarged by ten additional sheets, each con- \ntaining numerous siihjects. It includes the whole of Heath\'s Omnium Gatherum, both Scries; \nIllustrations of Demoiiology and Witchcraft ; Old Ways and New Ways; Nautical Dictionary; \nScenes in London; Sayings\' and Doings, etc.; a series of humorous illustrations of Proverbs, \netc. As a largp and almost infinite storehouse of humour it stands alone. To the young \nartist it would be found a most valuable collection of studies; and to the faawly circle a con- \nstant source of unexceptionable amusement. \n\nHOGARTH\'S WORKS ENGRAVED BY HIMSELF. 153 fine Plates (Including the two \nwell-known " suppressed Plates"), with elaborate Letter- press Descriptions, by J. Nichols. \nAtlas folio (pub. at boL), half-bound morocco, gilt back and edges, with a secret pocket for \nsuppressed plates, Tl. 7s. 1822 \n\nHOLBEIN\'S COURT OF HENRY THE EIGHTH. A Series of so exquisitely beautiful \nPortraits, engraved by Bartoi.ozzi, Cooper, and others, in imitation of the original\' \nDrawings preserved in the Royal Collection at Windsor; with Historical and Biographicall \nLetter-presi by Edmund Lodge, Esq. Published by John Chamberlaine. Imperial 4to \n(pub. at 151. \\as.), half-bound morocco, full gilt back and edges, il. 13s. 6d. 1812 \n\nHOFLANDS BRITISH ANGLER\'S MANUAL; Edited by Edward Jesse, Esq.; or, \nthe Art of Angling in England, Scotland, Wales, and Ireland; including a Piscatorial Account \nof the principal Rivers, Lakes, and Trout Streams; with Instructions in Fly Fishing, Trolling, \nand Angling of every Description. With upwards of 80 exquisite Plates, many of which are \nhighly-finished Landscapes engraved on Steel, the remainder beautifully engraved on Wood. \nSvo, elegant in gilt cloth, 12i. 184S \n\nHOPE\'S COSTUME OF THE ANCIENTS, illustrated in upwards of 320 beautifully- \nengraved Plates, containing Representations of Egyptian, Greek, and Roman Habits and \nDresses. 2 vols, royal Svo, New Edition, with nearly 20 additional Plates, boards, reduced \nto 2i. 5s. 1841 \n\nHOWARD (FRANK) ON COLOUR, as a Means of Art, being an adaptation of the Expe- \nrience of Professors to the practice of Amateurs, illustrated by 18 coloured Plates, post Svo, \ncloth gilt, 8j. \n\nIn this able volume are shown the ground colours in which the most celebrated painters \nworked. It is very valuable to the connoisseur, as well as the student, in painting and water- \ncolour drawing. \n\nHOWARD\'S (HENRY, R. A.) LECTURES ON PAINTING. Delivered at the Royal \nAcademy, with a Memoir, by his son, Frank Howard, large po.stSvo, cloth, 7*. Cd. 184S \n\nHOWARD\'S (FRANK) SPIRIT QF SHAKSPEARE. 483 fine outline Plates, illustrative of \nall the principal Incidents in the Dramas of our national Bard, 5 vols. Svo (pub. at UL 8s.), \ncloth, 21. 2s. 1827\xe2\x80\x9433 \n*\xc2\xbb* The 483 Plates may be had without the letter-press, for illustrating all Svo editions of \nShakspeare, for ll. lis. 6d. \n\nHUMPHREY\'S (H. NOEL) ART OF ILLUMINATION AND MISSAL PAINTING, \n\nillustrated with 12 splendid Examples from the Great Masters of the Art, selected from Missals, \nall beautifully illuminated. Square 12mo, decorated binding, ll. Is. \n\nHUMPHREY\'S COINS OF ENGLAND, a Sketch of the progress of the English Coinage? \nfrom the earliest period to the present time, with 228 beautiful fac- similes of the most interest- \ning specimens, illuminated in gold, silver, and copper, square Svo, neatly decorated binding, 18*. \n\nHUNTS EXAMPLES OF TUDOR ARCHITECTURE ADAPTED TO MODERN \n\nHABITATIONS. Royal 4to, 37 Plates (pub. at 21. 2s.), half morocco ll. is. \n\nHUNT\'S DESIGNS FOR PARSONAGE-HOUSES, ALMS-HOUSES, ETC. Royal \ni*.o, 2/ Plates (p"b. at 1/. half moruoeo, ]*\xc2\xbb. iUi \n\n\n\nI \n\n\n\nPUBLISHED OR SOLD BY H. G. BOHN. \n\n\n\n5 \n\n\n\nHUNTS DESIGNS FOR GATE LODGES, GAMEKEEPERS\' COTTAGES, ETC. \nRoyal 4to, 13 Plates (puu. &t U. U.), half morocco, lis. 184 1 \n\nHUNT\'S ARCHITETTURA CAMPESTRE: OR, DESIGNS FOR LODGES, GAR- \nDENERS\' HOUSES, etc. IN THE ITALIAN STYLE. 12 Plates, royal 4to (pub. at \ni;. U.), half morocco, Hs. 1827 \n\nILLUMINATED BOOK OF CHRISTMAS CAROLS, square 8vo. 24 Borders illuminated \nin Gold and Colours, and 4 beautiful Miniatures, richly Ornamented Binding {pub. at It. is.), \n153. 1846 \n\nILLUMINATED BOOK OF NEEDLEWORK, By Mrs, Owen, with a Hist \xc2\xbbry of Needle- \nwork, by the Countess of Wilton, Coloured Plates, post Svo (pub. at 18*.), gilt cloth, 9s. 1847 \n\nILLUMINATED CALENDAR FOR 1850. Copied from a celebrated Missal known as the \n" Hours" of the Duke of Anjou, imperial 8vo, 30 exquisite Miniatures and Borders, in gold and \ncolours, Ornamented Binding (pub. at 21. 2s.), 15s. \n\n\xe2\x99\xa6 LLUSTRATED FLY-FISHER\'S TEXT BOOK. A Complete Giude to the Science of Trout> \nand Salmon Fishing. By Theophilds South, Gent. (Ed. Chitty, Barrister). With \n23 beautiful Engravings on Steel, alter Paintings by CooPER, Newton, Fielding, Lee, and \nothers. Svo (pub. at 11. lis. 6d.). cloth, gilt, 10s. Od. 1845 \n\nITALIAN SCHOOL OF DESIGN. Consisting of 100 Plates, chiefly engraved by Barto- \nLozzi, after the original Pictures and Drawings of Guercino, Michael Angelo, Domeni- \nCHINO, Annibale, Ludovico, and Ac-ostino C>racci, Pietro da Cortona, Carlo Ma- \nRATTi, and others, in the Collection of Her Majesty. Imperial 4to (pub. at lol. 10s.), half mo- \nrocco, gilt edges, 3/. 3s. 1842 \n\nJAMES\' (G. P. R.) BOOK OF THE PASSIONS, royal 8vo, illustrated with 16 splendid \nLine Engravings, after drawings by Edward Courbould Stepha&off Chalon, Kenny \nMeadows, and Jenkins; engraved under the superintendence of CTiarles Heath. New \nand improved edition (just published), elegant in gilt cloth, gilt edges (pub. at 11. Us. 6d.), \n12s. \n\nJAMESON\'S BEAUTIES OF THE COURT OF CHARLES THE SECOND. 2 vols, \nimpl. 8vo, 21 beautiful Portraits (pub. at 21. 5s.], cloth, 11. Is. 1838 \n\nJOHNSON\'S SPORTSMAN\'S CYCLOPEDIA of the Science and Practice of the Field, the \nTurf, and the Sod, or operations of the Chase, the Course, and the Stream, in one very thick \nvol. Svo, illustrated with upwards of 50 Steel Engravings, after Cooper, Ward, Hancock., and \nothers (pub. at 11. lis. Gd.), cloth, 15s. \n\nKNIGHT\'S (HENRY GALLY), ECCLESIASTICAL ARCHITECTURE OF ITALY, \n\nFROM THE TIME OF CONSTANTINE TO THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY. With an \nIntroduction and Text. Imperial folio. First Series, containing 40 beautiful and highly inte- \nresting Views of Ecclesiastical Buildings in Italy, several of which are expensively illuminated \nin gold and colours, half-bound morocco, oi. 5s. 1843 \nSecond and Concluding Series, containing 41 beautiful and highly- interesting Views of Eccle- \nsiastical Buildings in Italy, arranged in Chronological Order; with Descriptive Letter-press. \nImperial folio, half-bound morocco, 5l. 5s. 1844 \n\nKNIGHT\'S (HENRY GALLY) SARACENIC AND NORMAN REMAINS. To illus- \ntrate the Normans in Sicily. Imperial folio. .SO large Engravings, consisting of Picturesque \nViews, Architectural Remains, Interiors and Exteriors of Buildings, with Descriptive Letter- \npress. Coloured like Drawings, half-bound morocco, 8^. 8s. 1846 \nBut very few copies are now first executed in this expensive manner. \n\nKNIGHT\'S PICTORIAL LONDON. 6 vols, bound in 3 thick handsome vols, imperial 8yo, \nillustrated by 650 Wood Engravings (pub. at 31. 3s.), cloth, gilt, 11. 18s. 1841-44 \n\nLONDON.-WILKINSON S LONDINA ILLUSTRATA ; OR, GRAPHIC AND \nHISTORICAL ILLUSTRATIONS of the most Interesting and Curious Architectural \nMonuments of the City and Suburbs of London and Westminster, e.j/., Monasteries, Churches, \nCharitable Foundations, Palaces, Halls, Courts, Processions, Places of early Amusements, \nTheatres, and Old Houses. 2 vols, imperial 4to, containing 207 Copper-plate Engravings, with \nHistorical and Descriptive Letter-press (pub. at 26/. os.), half-bound morocco, 51. 3s. 1819-25 \n\nLOUDON\'S EDITION OF REPTON ON LANDSCAPE GARDENING AND \n\nLANDSCAPE ARCHITECTURE. New Edition, 250 Wood Cuts, Portrait, thick Svo, cloth \nlettered (pub. at 1/. IDs.), 15s. \n\nLYSONS ENVIRONS OF LONDON; being an Historical Account of the Towns, Villages \nand Hamlets in the Counties of Surrey, Kent, Essex, Herts, and Middlesex, 5 vols. 4to, Plates \n(pub. at 10/. 10s.), cloth, 21. 10s. \nThe same, large paper, 3 vols, royal 4to (pub. at 15/. 15s.), cloth, 3/. 3s. \n\nMACGREGOR\'S PROGRESS OF AMERICA FROM THE DISCOVERY BY \n\nCOLUMBUS, to the year 1846, comprising its History and Statistics, 2 remarkably thick \nvolumes, imperial Svo. cloth lettered (pub. at il. Us. 6d.), 1/. lis. 6d. 1847 \n\nMARTIN\'S CIVIL COSTUME OF ENGLAND, from the Conquest to the Present PenodU \nfrom Tapestry, MSS. &c, iioyai \xc2\xabo 6) f laies, (\'\xe2\x80\xa2autifully Illuminated in Gold and Colours, \nCloth, yUt, ai, 12t. Qd. ua \n\n\n\n6 \n\n\n\nCATALOGUE OF NEW BOOKS \n\n\n\nMEYRICK\'S PAINTED ILLUSTRATIONS OF ANCIENT ARMS AND ARMOUR, \n\na Critical Inquiry into Ancient Armour as it existed in Europe, but particularly in Eiifrland, \nfrom the Norman Conquest to the Reign of Charles II, with a Glossary, etc. by Siii Samuel \nRush Meyrick, LL.D., F.S.A., etc., new and greatly improved Edition, corrected and en- \nlarged throughout by the Author himself, with the assistance of Literary and Antiquarian \nFriends (Albert Wav, etc.), 3 vols, imperial 4to, illustrated by more than 100 Plates, \nsplendidly illuminated, mostly in gold and silver, exhibiting some of the finest Specimens \nexisting in England; also a new Plate of the Tournament of Locks and Keys (pub. at 21/.), \nhalf-bound morocco, gilt edges, lOl. lOs. 1844 \nSir Walter Scott justly describes this collection as "the ikcompaaable ARMOBsy." \n^Edinburgh Review. \n\nMEYRICK S DESCRIPTION OF ANCIENT ARMS AND ARMOUR, in the Collec \nlion of Goodrich Court, loO Engravings by Jos. Skelton, 2 vols, folio (pab. atlW. llj.), \nhalf morocco, top edges gilt, il. lis. 6d. \n\nMILLINGEN\'S ANCIENT UNEDITED MONUMENTS; comprising Painted Greek \nVases, Statues, Busts, Bas-Reliefs, and other Remains of Grecian Art. 62 large and beautiful \nEngravings, mostly coloured, with Letter-press Descriptions, imperial 4to (pub, at 91. 9s.), \nhalf morocco, il. lis. Gd. 1822 \n\nMOSES\' ANTIQUE VASES, CANDELABRA, LAMPS, TRIPODS, PATERyt, \n\nTazzas, Tombs, Mausoleums, Sepulchral Chambers, Cinerary Urns, Sarcophagi, Cippi ; and \nother Ornaments, 170 Plates, several of which are coloured, with Letter-press, by Hoi\'E, small \n8vo (pub. atSi. 3s.), cloth, U. os. 1814 \n\nMURPHY\'S ARABIAN ANTIQUITIES OF SPAIN; representing, in 100 very highly \nfinished line Engravings, by Le Keux, Findbn, Landsker, G. Cooke, &c., the most \nremarkable Remains of the Architecture, Sculpture, Paintings, and Mosaics of the Spanish \nArabs now existing in the Peninsula, including the magnificent Palace of Allian\\bra; the \ncelebrated Mosque and Bridge at Cordova; the Royal Villa of Generaliffe; and the Casa de \nCarbon: accompanied by Letter-press Descriptions, in 1 vol. atlas folio, original and brilliant \nimpres.sions of the Plates (pub. at i2L), half morocco, 12/. 12j. 1813 \n\nMURPHY\'S ANCIENY CHURCH OF BATALHA, IN PORTUGAL, Plans, Ele- \nvations, Sections, and Views of the; with its History and Description, and an Introductory! \nDiscourse on GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE, imperial folio, 27 fine Copper Plates, engraved \nby LowRY (pub. at 6/. 6s.), half morocco, 21. 8s. 1795 \n\nNAPOLEON GALLERY; Or Illustrations of the Life and Times of the Emperor, with 9\xc2\xbb \nEtchings on Steel by Reveil, and other eminent Artists, in one thick volume post 8vo. (pub. \nat U. Is.), gilt cloth, gilt edges, lOs. 6rf. 1846 \n\nNICOLASS (SIR HARRIS) HISTORY OF THE ORDERS OF KNIGHTHOOD \n\nOF THE BRITISH EMPIRE; with an Account ol the Medals, Crosses, and Clasps which \nhave been conferred for Naval and Military Services ; together with a History of the Order of \nthe Guelphs of Hanover. 4 vols, imperial 4to, splendidly printed and illustrated by numerous \nfine W^oodcuts of Badges, Crosses, Collars, Stars, Medals, Ribbands, Clasps, etc. and many \nlarge Plates, illuminated in gold and colours, including full-length Portraits of Q.ueen Vic- \ntoria, Prince Albert, the King of Hanover, and the Dukes of Cambridge and Sussex. (Pub. \nat 14/. lis.), cloth, with morocco backs, SI. 15s. 6d. *\xc2\xbb* Complete to 1847 \n\nthe same, with the Plates richly coloured but not illuminated, and without the \nextra portraits, 4 vols, royal 4to. cloth, 3/. ICs. 6d. \n\n"Sir Harris Nicolas has produced the first comprehensive History of the British Orders of \nKnighthood- and it. is one of the most elaborately prepared ami splendidly printed works that ever \nUsued from the press. The Author appears to us to have neglected no sources of information, \nand to have exhausted them, as far as regards the general scope and purpose of the inijuiry. \nThe Graphical Illustrations are such as become a work of this character upon such a subject; \nat, of course, a lavish cost. The resources of the recently revived art of wood-engraving have \nbeen combined with the new art of printing in colours, so as to produce a rich effect, almost \nrivalling that of the monastic illuminations. Such a book is sure of a place in every great library. \nIt contains matter calculated to interest extensive classes of readers, and we hope by our \nspecimen to excite their curiosity." \xe2\x80\x94 Quarterly Review. \n\nNICHOLSON\'S ARCHITECTURE; ITS PRINCIPLES AND PRACTICE. 218 \n\nPlates by Lowby, new edition, revised by Jos. Gwilt, Esq., one volume, royal 8vo, \n1/. lis. 6d. 1848 \nFor classical Architecture, the text hook of the Profession, the most useful Guide to the \nStudent, and the best Compendium for the Amateur. An eminent Architect has declared \nit to be "not only the most useful book of the kind ever published, but absolutely indispen- \nsable to the Student." \n\nPICTORIAL HISTORY OF GERMANY DURING THE REIGN OF FREDERICK \n\nTHE GREAT, including a complete History of the Seven Years\' War. By Francis \nKugler. Illustrated by Adolph Menzel. Royal 8vo, with above 500 Woodcuts (pub. at \n1/. 8s.), cloth gilt, 124. 1845 \n\nPICTORIAL GALLERY OF RACE-HORSES. Containing Portraits of all the Winning \nHorses of the Derby, Oaks, and St. Leger Stakes during the last Thirteen Yearo, and a His- \ntory of the principal Operations of the Turf. By Wildrake (vJto. Tattersall, Esq.). Rnyal \nSvo, containing 9.i beautiful Engravings of Horses, after Pictures by Cooper, Herrixg, \nHancock, Alke>, &c. Also full-length characteristic Portraits of celebrated living Sports- \njuen ("Crack* of the Day"), by Ssymou* (p"b. at 21. 2s.), scarlet cloth, gilt, U, U. \n\n\n\nPUBLISHED OR SOLD BY H. G. BOHN. \n\n\n\n7 \n\n\n\nPICTURESQUE TOUR OF THE RIVER THAMES, in its Western Course, including \n\nparticular Destriptiiius of F-lchuiotid, Windsor, ami Hampton Court. By John Fisher \nMurray. lUustr^^d ti/ upwards ol\' luo very liiy:hly-fiiiislied Wood Engravings by Orris \nSmith, Brakston, Lankells, Linton, and oilier eminent artists; to which are added \nseveral beautiful Copper and Steel Plate Engravings by Cooke and otliers. Oue Urge hand- \nsome volume, royal 8vo (pub. at 11. as,], gil; cloth, 6(/. 1845 \nThe most beii-tiful volume of Topogtaphical Lignographs ever produced. \n\nPINELLI S ETCHINGS OF ITALIAN MANNERS AND COSTUME, Including his \nCamivaJ, Banditti, &c., 2? Plates, imperial 4to, half-bound morocco, las. Rome, 1840 \n\nPRICE (SIR UVEDALE) ON THE PICTURESQUE in Scenery and Landscape Garden- \nin;?, with an Essay on the Origin of Taste, and much additional matter. By Sir Thomas \nDick Lauder, Bart. 8vo, with 60 beautiful Wood Engravings by Moniago Stanley \n(pub. at U. 1*.), gilt cloth, 12\xc2\xab. 1842 \n\n>>UGINS GLOSSARY OF ECCLESIASTICAL ORNAMENT AND COSTUME? \n\nsetting forth the Origin, History, and Signification of the various Emblems, Devices, and Sym- \nbolical Colours, peculiar to Christian Designs of the Mit^dle Ages. Illustrated by nearly 80 \nPlates, splendidly printed in gold and colours. Royal 4to, half morocco extra, top edges gilt, \n71. 7s. \n\nPUGIN\'S ORNAMENTAL TIMBER GABLES, selected from Ancient Examples in \nEngland and Normandy. Royal 4to, ;<0 Plates, cloth, li. Is. 1S30 \n\nPUGINS EXAMPLES OF GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE, selected from Ancient \nEililices in England; consisting of Plans, Elevations, Sections, and Parts at large, with Histo- \nrical and Descriptive letter-press, illustrated by 22i Engravings by Le Keux. 3 vols. 4to \n(pub. at 12/. ), cloth, 71. 17.i. Orf. 1839 \n\nPUGIN\'S GOTHIC ORNAMENTS. 90 fine Plates, drawn on Stone by J. D. Harding and \n\nothers. Royal ito, half morocco, 31. is. 1844 \n\nLOGIN\'S NEW WORK ON FLORIATED ORNAMENT, with 30 plates, splendidly \nprinted in Gold and Colours, royal 4to, elegantly bound in cloth, with rich gold ornaments, \n\nRADCLIFFES NOBLE SCIENCE OF FOX-HUNTING, for the use of Sportsmen, royal \n8vo., nearly 40 beautiful Wood Cuts of Hunting, Hounds, &c. (pub. at U. Ss.), cloth gilt, \n10s. 6(/. 1839 \n\nRETZSCHS OUTLINES TO SCHILLER\'S "FIGHT WITH THE DRAGON," \n\nRoyal ito., containing 10 Plates, Engraved by Moses, stifl" covers, 7s. 6d. \n\nRETZSCH S ILLUSTRATIONS TO SCHILLER\'S "FRIDOLIN," Royal 4*\xc2\xa9^ contain- \ning 8 Plates. Engra^ved by Moses, stilf covers, 4\xc2\xab. Gci. \n\nREYNOLDS\' (SIR JOSHUA^ GRAPHIC WORKS. 300 beautiful Engravings (com- \nprising nearly 4 )0 subjects) after this delightful painter, engraved on Steel by S. W. Reynolds. \n3 vols, folio (pub. at 3()/.), half bound morocco, gilt edges, 121. 12s. \n\nREYNOLDS\' (SIR JOSHUA) LITERARY WORKS. Comprising his Discourses, \n\ndelivered at the Royal Academy, on the Theory and Practice of Painting; his Journey t\xc2\xab \n,anders and Holland, with Criticisms on Pictures; Du Fresnoy\'s Art of Painting, with Notes \nvo which is prefixed, a Memoir of the Author, with Remarks illustrative of his Princiiiles anil \n*iactice, by Beechey. New Edition. 2 vols. fcap. 8vo, with Portrait (pub. at 18s.), gilt \nrMith, lOs. 1846 \n"His admirable Discourses contain such a body of just criticism, clothed in such perspicuous, \nelegant, and nervous language, that it is no exaggerated panegyric to assert, that they will last \nas long as the English tongue, and contribute, not less than the prdductions of his pencil, to \nrender his name immortal." \xe2\x80\x94 Northcote. \n\nROBINSONS RU^AL ARCHITECTURE; being a Series of Designs for Ornamental \nCottages, in 90 Piates, with Estimates. Fourth, greatly improved. Edition. Royal 4to (pub. \nat it. 4.S. ), half morocco, 21. os. \n\nROBINSONS NEW SERIES OF ORNAMENTAL COTTAGES AND VILLA*. \n\n56 Plates by Harding and Allom. Royal 4to, half morocco, 21. 2s. \n\nROBINSON\'S ORNAMENTAL VILLAS* 96 Plates (pub. at 4Z. 4s.), lialf morocco, 2/. U. \n\nROBINSON\'S FARM BUILDINGS. 56 Plates (pub. at 2i. 2s.), half morocco, l/. lis. 6 if \xe2\x80\xa2 . m a Ka\xc2\xbbe, \n\nSHAW AND BRIDGENS\' DESIGNS FOR FURNITURE, with Candelabra and interior \nDecoration, 60 Plates, royal 4to, (pub. at 3/. St.), half-bound, uncut, II. Us. 6d. 183S \nThe same, large paper, impl. 4to, the Plates coloured (pub. at 6/. 6f.), hf.-bd., uncut, Zl. 3*. \n\nSHAW\'S LUTON CHAPEL, its Architecture and Ornamenti, Illustrated in a series of 24 \nhighly finished Line Engravings, imperial folio (pub. at 3/. 3#.), half morocco, uncut, 1/. 16t. \n\n1830 \n\nSILVESTRE\'S UNIVERSAL PALEOGRAPHY, or Facsimiles of the writings of eveiy \nage, taken from tlie most authentic Missals and other interesting Mnnuscripts existing In the \nLibraries of France, Italy, Germany, and England. By M. Silvestre, containing upwards of \n300 large and most beautifully executed fac-similes, on Copper and Stone, most richly illumi- \nnated in the finest style of art, 2 vols, atlas folio, half morocco extra, gilt edges, 3U. lOj. \n\n\xe2\x80\x94 \xe2\x80\x94 \xe2\x80\x94 The Hiatorical and Descriptive Lotter-press by ChampoUion, Figeac, and Cham- \n\npollion, jun. With additions and corrections by Sir Frederick Madden. 2 vols, royal 8vo, \ncloth, 11. 16j. 1859 \n\xe2\x96\xa0 the same, 2 vols, royal 8vo, hf. mor. gilt edges (uniform with the folio work), 21. 8\xc2\xab. \n\nSMITH S (C. J.) HISTORICAL AND LITERARY CURIOSITIES. ConsisUng of \nFac-similes of interesting Autographs, Scenes of remarkable Historical Events and interesting \nLocalities, Engravings of Old Houses, Illuminated and Missal Ornaments, Antiquities, &c. \n&c. , containing 100 Plates, some illuminated, with occasional Letter-press. In 1 voliune 4to, \nhalf morocco, uncut, reduced to 3/. 1840 \n\nSMITHS ANCIENT COSTUME OF GREAT BRITAIN AND IRELAND. From \nthe 7lh to tlie Kith Century, with Historical Illustrations, folio, with 62 coloured plates illu- \nminated with gold and silver, and highly finished (pub. at lOl. lOt.) half bound, morocco, \nextra, gilt edges, 3/. 13j. Cd. \n\nSPORTSMAN\'S REPOSITORY; comprising a Series of highly finished Line Engraving*, \n\nrepresenting the Horse and the Dog, in all their varieties, by the celebrated engraver Johs \nScott, from original paintings by Reinagle, Gilpin, Stubbs, Cooper, and Landseer, accom- \npanied by a comi)rehensive Description by the Author of the " British Field Sports," 4to, with \n37 large Copper Plates, and numerous Wood Cuts by Burnett and others (pub. at 21. lis. 6J.)\xc2\xbb \ncloth gilt, U. Is. \n\nSTORER\'S CATHEDRAL ANTIQUITIES OF ENGLAND AND WALES. 4 vole. \n\n8vo., with 2:g engravings (pub. at 71. 10s.), half morocco, 21. 12. 6d. \n\nSTOTHARDS MONUMENTAL EFFIGIES OF GREAT BRITAIN. U7 beautifuHy \n\nfinished Etchings, all of which are more or less tinted, and some of them highly illuminated in \ngold and colours, with Historical Descriptions and Introduction, by Kempe. Folio ipub. at \n19/.), half morocco, SI. Ss. \nSTRUTT\'S SYLVA BRITANNICA ET S\'^OTICA; or, Portraits of Forest Trees, distin- \nguished for their Antiquity, Magnitude, or Beauty, comprising 50 very large and highly-finished \npainters\' Etchings, imperial folio (pub. at 9/. 9s.}, hzJf morocco extra, gilt edges, 4/. 10\xc2\xbb. \n\n1826 \n\nSTRUTTS DRESSES AND HABITS OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND, from \nthe Establishment of the Saxons in Britain to the present time ; with an historical and \nCritical Inquiry into every branch of Costume. New and greatly improved Edition, witli Cri- \ntinal and Explanatory Notes, by J. R. Blanche\', Esq., F.S.A. 2 vols, royal 4to, 153 Plates, \ncloth, 4/. is. The Plates, coloured, 71. 7s. The Plates splendidly illuminated in gold, silver, \nand opaque colours, in the Missal style, 20^. 1842 \n\nSTRUTTS REGAL AND ECCLESIASTICAL ANTIQUITIES OF ENGLAND. \n\nContaining tlie most authentic Representations of all the English Mouarchs from Edward the \nConfessor to Henry the Eighth; together with many of the Great Personages that were emi- \nnent under their several Reigns. New and greatly improved Edition, by J. R. Planche\'. \nEsq.. F.S.A. Royal 4to, 72 Plates, cloth, 21. 2s. The Plates coloured, il. is. Splendidly \nilluminated, uniform with the Dresses, 12/. 12j. 1842 \n\nSSTUBBS\' AMATOMY OF THE HORSE. 24 fine large Copper-plate Engravings. Impe- \n\nriiil foiio (pub. at 4/. 4s.), boards, leather back, 1/. Us, Cd. \nThe original edition of this fine old woik, which is indispensable to artists. It has long been \n\nconsideied rare. \n\nTATTERSALL\'S SPORTING ARCHITECTURE, comprising the Stud Farm, the SUIL \n\ntlie St,il)le, the Kenne!, Race Studs, &c. with 43 beautiful steel and wood Dlustratious, aeveral \nalter Hancock, cloth gilt (pub. at 1/. lis. Cd.), 11. Is. 1850 \n\nTAYLORS HISTORY OF THE FINE ARTS IN GREAT BRITAIN. 2 vols, post \n\nSvo. VvooJcuts (pub. at 1/. Is.}, cloth, 7s. Gd. 1841 \n" The best view of tlie state of modern sut."\xe2\x80\x94 United States\' Gazette. \n\nTODS ANNALS AND ANTIQUITIES OF RAJASTHAN: OR, THE CENTRAL \nAND WESTERN RAJPOOT STATES OF INDIA, COMMONLY CALLED RAJPOOT- \nANA). By Lieut. Colonel J. Ton, imperial 4to, embellished with above 28 extremely beauti- \nful line Engravings by Findejj, and capital large folding map (\xc2\xab. H\xc2\xab, 6d.), cloth, Jsi. 1839 \n\n\n\nPUBLISHED OR SOLD BY H. G. BOHN. \n\n\n\n9 \n\n\n\nTURNER AND GIRTIN\'S RIVER SCENERY; folio, 20 beautiful enffravings on steel, \nafter the drawings of J. M. W. Turner, brilliant Impressions, in a porttdlio, witli morocco \nback (pul). at ;>i. :>s.], reduced to 11. II.?. ad. \n\n\' the same, with thick glazed paper between the plates, half bound morocco, gilt \n\nedges (pub. at til. 6s.), reduced to 21. 2.t. \n\nWALKER S ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY IN WOMAN. Preceded by a critical View of the \ngeneral Hypotheses rospectins Beauty, by Leonardo da Vinci, Mengs, Winckelmann, \nHume, Hogarth, Burke, Knight, Amsos, and others. New Edition, royal 8vo, illus- \ntrated by 22 beautiful Plates, after drawings from life, by H. Howard, by Gauci and Lane \n(pub. at 2^. 2\xc2\xbb.), gilt cloth, 1/. U. 1846 \n\nWALPOLE\'S (HORACE) ANECDOTES OF PAINTING IN ENGLAND, with some \nAccount of the Principal Artists, and Catalogue of Engravers, who have been born or resided \nin Englanil, with Notes by Dam,away; New Edition, Revised and Enlarged, by Ralph \nWoiiN\'U.M, Esq., complete in 3 vols. 8to, with niunerous beautiful portraits and plates, 21. 2s. \n\nWATTS\'S PSALMS AND HYMNS, Iltustrated Edition, complete, with indexes of \n" Sutijects," " First Lines," and a Table of Scriptures, 8vo, printed in a very large and beauti- \nful type,/embellislied with 24 beautiful Wood Cuts by Martin, Westall, and others (pub, at \n11. Is.), gilt cloth, 7s. 6d. \n\nWHISTON S JOSEPHUS, ILLUSTRATED EDITION, complete; containing both the \nAntiquities and the Wars of the Jews. 2 vols. 8vo, handsomely printed, embellished with 52 \nbeautiful Wood Engravings, bj various Artists (pub. at U. is.), cloth bds,, elegantly gilt, 14\xc2\xbb. \n\n184S \n\nWHITTOCK\'S DECORATIVE PAINTER\'S AND GLAZIER\'S GUIDE, containing the \nmost approved meilioils of hnitiiting every kind of fancy Wood and Marble, in Oil or Distemper \nColour, Designs for Dci^orating Apartments, and the Art of Staining and Painting on Glass, \n&c., with Exanii)les fi- )m Ancient Windows, with the Supplement, 4to, illustrated with 104 \nplates, of which 44 are coloured, (pub. at 21. lis.) cloth, 11. 10s. \n\nWHITTOCK\'S MINIATURE PAINTER\'S MANUAL. Foolscap 8vo., r coloured plates, \n\nand numerous woodcuts (pub. at bs.) cloth, 3s. \n\nWIGHTWICK S PALACE OF ARCHITECTURE, a Romance of Artand History, Impe- \nrial 8vo, with 211 Illustrations, Steel Plates, and Woodcuts (pub, at 21. 12*. 6d.), cloth, U. Is. \n\n1840 \n\nWILDS ARCHITECTURAL GRANDEUR of Belgium, Germany, and France, 24 fine \nPlates by Le Keux, &c. Imperial 4to (pub. at 1/. 18j.), half morocco, 11. is, 1837 \n\nWILD\'S FOREIGN CATHEDRALS, 12 Plates, coloured and mounted like Drawings, in a \n\nhandsome portfolio (pub. at 12/. 12^.), imperial folio, 51, as, \n\nWILLIAMS\' VIEWS IN GREECE, G4 beautiful Line Engravings by Miller, HoRSBrEGH, \nand others. 2 vols, imperial 8vo (pub, at 61. 6s.), half bound mor. extra, gilt edges, 21. 12s. 6d. \n\n1829 \n\nWINDSOR CASTLE AND ITS ENVIRONS, INCLUDING ETON, by Leitch \nReitchie, new edition, edited by E. .Jesse, Es\xc2\xab., illustrated with upwards of 50 beautiful \nEngravings on Steel and Wood, ro\'yai 8vo., gilt cloth, 15\xc2\xbb. \n\nWOODS ARCHITECTURAL ANTIQUITIES AND RUINS OF PALMYRA AND \n\nBALBKC. 2 vols, in 1, imperial folio, containing 110 fine Copper-plate Engravings, some \n\xc2\xbbery large and folding (pub. at 71. 7s.), half morocco, uncut, 31, 13i. Crf. 182" \n\n\n\njBatural J^i\'storp, Agriculture, $rc. \n\n\n\nANDREWS\' FIGURES OF HEATHS, with Scientific Descriptions, 6 vols, royal Svo. \nwith 300 beautifully coloured Plates (pub. at 15/.), cloth, gilt, 71, 10s. 1845 \n\nBARTON AND CASTLES BRITISH FLORA MEDICA; OR, HISTORY OF THB \nMEIMCI NAL PLANTS OF GREAT BRITAIN. 2 vols, 8vo, illustrated by upwards of 200 \nColo\'jred Figures of Plants (pub, at 3/. 3s.), cloth, 1/. ICj. 1845 \n\nBAUER AND HOOKERS ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE GENERA OF FERNS, \n\nin which the characters of eacL Genus are displayed in the most elaborate manner, in a series \nof magnified Dissections and Figures, highly finished in Colours. Imp. 8vo, Plates, 6C. 1838-42 \n\nBEECHEY,\xe2\x80\x94 BOTANY OF CAPTAIN BEECHEYS VOYAGE, comprising an \nAccount of the Plants collected by ^.Messrs. Lay and Collie, and other Officers of the \nExpedition, during the Voyage to the Pacific and Behring\'s Straits. By Sia William \nJackson Hooker, and G. A. W. Arnott, Esq., illustrated by 100 Plates, beautifully en- \ngraved, complete in 10 parts, 4to (pub. at 71. 10s.), 51. 1831-41 \n\nBEECHEY.\xe2\x80\x94 ZOOLOGY OF CAPTAIN BEECHEYS VOYAGE, compiled from the \nCollections and Notes of Captain Beechey and the Scientific Gentlemen who accompanied \nthe Expedition. The Mammalia, by Dr. Richardson; Ornithology, by N. A. Vigors, Esq., \nFishes, by G. T. Lay, Esq., and E. T. Bennett, Esq.; Crustacea, by Richard Owen; \nEsq.; Reptiles, by Johv Edward Gray, Esq.; Shells, by W. Sowerby, Esq.; and Geology, \nby the Rev. Dr. Buckland. 4to, illustrated by 47 Plates, containing many hundred Figures, \nbeautifully coJcurea by Sowerby (pub. atil. it,], cloth, 3/, 13i, 6rf. 183tf \n\n\n\n10 \n\n\n\nCATALOGUE OF \xc2\xbbEW BOOKS \n\n\n\nBOLTON\'S NATURAL HISTORY OF BRITISH SONG BIRDS. Illustrated with \nFigures, the size of Life, of the Birds, both Male and Female, in their most Natural Attitudes; \ntheir Nests and Egp-s, Food, Favourite Plants, Shrubs, Trees, &c. &c. New Edition, revised \nX and very considerably augmented, 2 vols, in 1, medium 4to, containing 80 beautifully coloured \n\' plates (pub. at HI. 8s.), half bound morocco, gilt backs, gilt edges, 3/. 3*. 1815 \n\nBRITISH FLORIST, OR LADY\'S JOURNAL OF HORTICULTURE. 6vo!s.8vo, 81 \ncoloured plates of flowers and groups (pub. at 41. 10*.), cloth, 1/. 14*. 1846 \n\nBROWNS ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE LAND AND FRESH WATER SHELLS \n\nOF GREAT BRITAIN AND IRELAND; with Figures, Descriptions, and Localities of all \nthe Species. Royal 8vo, containing on 27 large Plates, 330 Figures of all tlie known British \nSpecies, In their full size, accurately drawn from Nature (pub. at 15*.), cloth, 10\xc2\xab. 6rf. 1845 \n\nCURTIS\'S FLORA LONDINENSIS; Revised and Improved by Gf.orre Graves, ex- \ntended and continued by Sir W. J.^ckson Hooker; comprising the History of Plants indi- \ngenous to Great Britain, with Indexes; the Drawings made by Sydenham, Edwards, and \nLiNDLEY. 5 vols, royal folio (or 109 parts), containing 647 Plates, exliibiting the full naturdl \nsize of each Plant, with magnified Dissections of the Parts of Fructification, &c., all beauti- \nfully coloured (pub. at 87^ 4s. in parts), half bound morocco, top edges gilt, 30l. 1835 \n\nDENNY\xe2\x80\x94 MONOQRAPHIA ANOPLURORUWI BRITANNI/E, OR BRITISH \n\nSPECIES OF PARASITE INSECTS (published under the patronage of the British Associa- \ntion), 8vo, numerous beautifuilj cuioured plates of Lice, containing several hundred magnified \nfigures, cloth, li. lU. 6d. 1842 \n\nDON\'S GENERAL SYSTEM OF GARDENING AND BOTANY. 4 volumes, royal 4to, \nnumerous woodcuts (pub, at lil. 8s.), cloth, U. Us. 6d. 1831-1838 \n\nDON\'S HORTUS CANTABRIGIENSIS: thirteenth Edition, 8vo (pub. at U. 4*.), cloth, 12*. \n\n1845 \n\nDONOVANS NATURAL HISTORY OF THE INSECTS OF INDIA. Enlarged, by \nJ. O. Westwood, Esq., F.L.S., 4to, with .58 plates, containing upwards of 120 exquisitely \ncoloured figures (pub. at 6C. 6s.), cloth, gilt, reduced to 21. 2s. 1843 \n\n\n\nDONOVAN S NATURAL HISTORY OF THE INSECTS OF CHINA. Enlarged, by \nJ. O. Westwood. Esq., F.L.S., 4to, with 50 plates, containing upwards of 120 exquisitely \ncoloured figures (pub. at 61. 6s.), cloth, gilt, 21. 5s. \n\n" Donovan\'s works on the Insects of India and China are splendidly illustrated and ex- \ntremely useful." \xe2\x80\x94 Naturulist. \n\n"The entomological plates of our countryman Donovan, are highly coloured, elegant, and \nuseful, especially those contained in his (juiirto volumes (Insects of India and China), where a \ngreat number of species are delineated for the first time."\xe2\x80\x94 Swatnson. \n\nDONOVAN S WORKS ON BRITISH NATURAL HISTORY. Vi7,.-Insects, 16 toIs, \n\xe2\x80\x94 Jilrds, 10 vols.\xe2\x80\x94 Stiells, 5 vols.\xe2\x80\x94 Fishes, 5 vols.\xe2\x80\x94 Guadrupeds, 3 vols.\xe2\x80\x94 together 39 vols. 8vo. \ncontaining 1198 beautifully coloured plates (pub. at 66^. 9s.), boards, 2\'M. 17s. The sam\xc2\xab set of \n39 vols, bound in 21 (pub. at 73^. 10s. ), half green morocco extra, gilt edges, gilt bacll\xc2\xab, 30<. \nAny of the classes may be had separately. \n\nDOYLE\'S CYCLOPEDIA OF PRACTICAL HUSBANDRY, and Rural Affairs in \nGeneral, New Edition, Enlarged, thick 8vo., with 70 wood engravings (pub. at 13s.), cloth, \n8s. Gd. 1843 \n\nDRURY\'S ILLUSTRATIONS OF FOREIGN ENTOMOLOGY; wherein are exhibited \nupwards of 600 exotic Insects, of the East and West Indies, China, New Holland, North and \nSouth America, Germany, &c. By J. O. Westwood, Esq., F.L.S.. Secretary of the Entomo- \nlogical Society, &c. 3 vols, ito, 150 Plates, most beautifully colotired, containing above 600 \nfigures of Insects (originally pub, at 15 1. 15s.), half bound morocco, 61. 10s. 6d. 1837 \n\nEVELYN\'S SYLVA AND TERRA. A Discourse of Forest Trees, and the Propagation of \nTimber, a Philosophical Discourse of the Earth; with Life of the Author, and Notes by Dr. A. \nHunter, 2 vols, royal 4to. Fifth improved Edition, with 46 Plates (p ib. at 51. 5s.), cloth, 21. \n\n1826 \n\nFITZROY AND DARWIN.\xe2\x80\x94 ZOOLOGY OF THE VOYAGE IN THE BEAGLE. \n\n166 plates, mostly coloured, 3 vols, royal 4to. (pub. at 91.), cloth, 51. 5s. 1838-43 \n\nGREVILLE\'S CRYPTOGAMIC FLORA, comprising the Principal Species found in Great \nBritain, inclusive of all the New Species recently discovered in Scotland. 6 vols, royal 8vo, \n360 beautifully coloured Plates (pub. at 16s.), half morocco, 8^. 8s. 1823-,8 \nThis, though a complete Work in itself, forms an almost indispensable Supplement to the \nthirty-six volumes of Sowerby\'s English Botany, which does not comprehend Cryjitogamous \nPlants. It is one of the most scientific and best executed works ou Indigenous Botany ever \nproduced in this country. \n\nHARDWICKE AND GRAY\'S INDIAN ZOOLOGY. Twenty parts, forming two vols., \nroyal folio, 202 coloured plates (pub. at 21^), sewed, 12i. 12s., or half moroccu, gilt edges, \nUl. Us. \n\nHARRIS\'S AURELIAN: OR ENGLISH MOTHS AND BUTTERFLiES, Tlieir \n\nNatural History, together with the I\'lants on which they fe\xc2\xabd; N^w and greatly improved \nEdition, by J. "O, Westwood, Esq., F.L.S., &c., in 1 vol. sm. folio, with 44 plates, containing \nfcbove 400 figures of Moths, Butterflies, Caterpillars, &c., and the Plants on which they feed, \nexquisitely coloureu after t>>e original d\' awings, half-bound morocco, il. is. 1840 \nTliis extren)\xc2\xab>Jy beautiful work is the only one which contains our English Moths and Butter- \nflies of the full natural size, in all their changes of Caterpillar, Chrysalis, Sic, with the plant* \n\xe2\x80\xa2n which they fee*** \n\n\n\nrUIJLISHED OR SOLD BY H. G. BOIIN. \n\n\n\n11 \n\n\n\nHOOKLR AND GREVILLE, ICONES FlLiCUiVI ; OR. FIGURES OF FERNS \n\nWitl) I)E8Cli !P\'riONS, many of which have been altogether uniiuticed by BoiauistE, cr have \nnot lioen corrf^ctlv fisfiired. 2 vols, folio, with 240 beautifully coloured Plates (pub. at 2tl. is.), \nhalf morocco, gU\\ edges, 121. 12s. 1829-31 \nThe ifrandest and most valuable of the many scientific Works produced by Sir William Hooker, \n\nHOOKER\'S EXOTIC FLORA, containing Figures and Descriptions of Rare, or otherwise \ninteresting Exotic Plants, especially of such as are deserving- of being cultivated in our Gar- \ndens. 3 vols, impeiial 8vo, containing 232 large and beautifully coloured Plates (pub. at 151.), \nclotli, bi. 6.S. 1823-1827\' \n\nTliis is the most superb and attractive of all Dr. Hooker\'s valuable works. \n\n"The \'Exotic Flora,\' by Dr. }Iooker, is like that of all the Botanical publications of the in- \ndefatigable author, excellent; and it assumes an appearance of finish and perfection to \nwhich neither the Botanical Magazine nor Register can externally lay claim."\xe2\x80\x94 Xoudow. \n\nf-{OOKER\'S JOURNAL OF BOTANY; containing Figures and Descriptions of such Plants \nas recommend themselves by their novelty, rarity, or history, or by the uses to which they are \nai)|)li(il in tlie Arts, in Medicine, and in Domestic Economy; together with occasional \nBotanical Notices and Information, and occasional Portraits and Memoirs of eminent \nBotanists. 4 vols. 8vo, numerous plates, some coloured ( pub. at 3i. ), cloth, U. 1834-42 \n\ni-iOOKERS BOTANICAL MISCELLANY; containing Figures and Descriptions of Plants \nwhich recommend themselves by their novelty, rarity, or history, or by the uses to which they \nare a])plied in the Arts, in Medicine, and in Domestic Economy, together with occasional \nBotanical Notices and Information, including many valuable Communications from distin- \nguished Scientific Travellers. Complete in 3 thick vols, royal 8vo, with 153 piates, many finely \ncoloured (pub. at 5/. 5s.), gilt cloth, 21. 12s. Gd. 1830-3$ \n\nHOOKER\'S FLORA BOREALI-AMERICANA ; OR, THE BOTANY OF BRITISH \nNORTH AMERICA. Illustrated by 240 plates, complete in Twelve Parts, royal 4to, (pub, \nat 12^. 12s.), 8^ The Twelve Parts complete, done up in 2 vols, royal 4to, extra cloth, Si. \n\n1829-49 \n\nfJUISH ON BEES; THEIR NATURAL HISTORY AND GENERAL MANAGEMENT. \n\nNew and greatly improved Edition, containing also the latest Discoveries and Improvements \nin every department of the Apiarj\', with a description of the most approved Hives now in use, \nthick 12mo, Portrait and numerous Woodcuts (pub. at lUs. 6d.), cloth, gilt, 6s. 6d. 1S44 \n\nJOHNSON\'S GARDENER, complete in 12 vols, with numerous woodcuts, containing the \nPotato, one vol.\xe2\x80\x94 Cucumber, one vol.\xe2\x80\x94 Grape Vine, two vols.\xe2\x80\x94 Auricula and Asparagus, one \nvol. \xe2\x80\x94 Pine Apple, two vols. \xe2\x80\x94 Strawberry, one vol. \xe2\x80\x94 Dahlia, one vol.\xe2\x80\x94 Peach, one vol. \xe2\x80\x94 Apple, \ntwo vols.\xe2\x80\x94 together 12 vols. 12mo, woodcuts (pub. at U. 10s.), cloth, 12\xc2\xbb. ISiJ \n\n\' \xe2\x80\x94 either of the volumes may be had separately (pub, at 2s. Sa\'.), at Is. \n\n\n\nJOHNSON\'S DICTIONARY OF MODERN GARDENING, numerous Woodcuts, very- \nthick 12ino, cloth lettered (pub. at 10s. 6t/.), 4s. A comprehensive and elegant volume. 1846 \n\nLATHAM\'S GENERAL HISTORY OF BIRDS Being the Natural History and Descrip- \ntion of all the Birds (above four thousand) hitherto known or described by Naturalists, with \nthe Synonymes of preceding Writers; the second enlarged and improved Edition, compre- \nhending all the discoveries in Ornithology subsequent to the former publication, and a General \nIndex, 11 vols, in 10, 4to, with upwards of 200 coloured Plates, lettered (pub. at 261. 8s.), cloth, \n7<. 17s. ad. Winchester, 1821-28. The same with the plates exquisitely coloured like drawings,^ \n11 vols, in 10, elegantly half bound, green morocco, gilt edges, \\2l. 12s. \n\n^EWIN\'S NATURAL HISTORY OF THE BIRDS OF NEW SOUTH WALES. \n\nThird Edition, with an Index of the Scientific Names and Synonymes by Mr, Gould and Mr. \nEYTOJi, folio, 27 plates, coloured (pub. at il. is.), hf. bd. morocco, 21. 2s, 1838 \n\nLINDLEY\'S BRITISH FRUITS; OR, FIGURES AND DESCRIPTIONS OF THE MOST \nIMPORTANT VARIETIES OF FRUIT CULTIVATED IN GREAT BRITAIN. 3 vols, \nroyal 8vo, containing 152 most beautifully coloured plates, chietiy by Mrs. Withers, Artist \nto the Horticultural Society (pul). at 10/. 10s.), hall bound, morocco extra, gilt edges, 51. 5s. \n\n1841 \n\n\xe2\x80\xa2\'This is an exquisitely beautiful work. Every plate is like a \'Tiighly finished drawing, \nsimilar to those in the Horticultural Transactions," \n\nLINDLEY\'S DIGITALIUM MONOGRAPHIA, Folio, 28 plates of the Foxglove (pub. at \nit. is.), cloth. It. lis, 6d. \n\n\xe2\x80\xa2 the same, the plates beautifully coloured (pub, at 6/. Cs.), cloth, 21. 12*. 6d. \n\nLOUDON\'S (MRS.) ENTERTAINING NATURALIST, being Popular DescriptiffiM, \nTales, and Anecdotes of more than Five Hundred Animals, comprehending all the Quadrupeds, \nBirds, Fishes, Keiitiles, Insects, &c. of which a knowledge is indispensable in polite educa- \ntion. With Indexes of Scientific aiLl Popular Names, an Explanation of Terms, and an Ap- \npendix of Fal)ulous Animals, illustrated by upwards of 500 lieautifui woodcuts by Bewicx, \nHarvey, Whoiper, and others. New Edition, revised, enlarged, and corrected to the \npresentstate of Zoological Knowledge. In one thick vol. post 8vo. gilt cloth, 7s. Gd. 1850 \n\nLOUDON\'S (J. C.) ARBORETUM ET FRUTICETUNl BRITANNICUM, or the \n\nTrees and Shrubs of Britain, Native and Foreign, delineated and described; with their propa- \ngation, culture, management, and uses. Second improved Eiiition, 8 vols. 8vo, with above \n400 plates of trees, and upwards of 2500 woodcuUi of tiees and sJuubs (pul); at V, \nhalf bound, 82. 8*. 1828-46 \n\xe2\x80\x94Or separately, Lkpidoptera, 4 vols. 41. 4s. Coleoptera, 5 vols. U, ii. JDJBKHAFTEKA, \n\nO&THOS., KEVa.9t . &e t t VV) ii l\xc2\xab IiYll\xc2\xa5liOFT\xc2\xa3RA, 3 VOll. 21. 2t, \n\n\n\nPUBLISHED OR SOLD BY H. G. BOHN. \n\n\n\n13 \n\n\n\nSWAINSON\'S EXOTIC CONCHOLOGY; OR, FIGURES AND DESCRIPTIONS OP \nRARE, BEAUTIFUL, OR UNDESCRlBED SHELLS. Royal 4to, coiiiihuiife- 94 large aud \nbeautifully coloured figures of Shells, half bound mor. gilt edges (pub. at 3/. 5s), 2L i2s. 6d, \n\nSWAINSON\'S ZOOLOGICAL ILLUSTRATIONS; OR, ORIGINAL FIGURES AND- \nDESCRIPTIONS OF NEW, RARE, OR INTERESTING ANIMALS, selected chiefly \nfrom the Classes of Ornithologj\', Entomology, and Conchology. 6 vols, royal 8vo, cuntaiiilng \n318 finely coloured plates (pub. at 16^ lS\xc2\xab>)i half bound morocco, gilt edges, 9^. 9). \n\nSWEET\'S FLORA AUSTRALASICA ; OR. A SELECTION OF HANDSOME OR \nCURIOUS PLANTS, Natives of New Holland and the South Sea Islands. 15 Nos. for.iiinj; \n1 vol, royal 8vo, complete, with 56 beautifully coloured plates (pub. at 3/. 15j.), cloth, U. 16s. \n\n1827-28- \n\nSWEET\'S CISTINE/E; OB, NATURAL ORDER OF CISTUS, OR ROCK ROSE. 30 \nNos. forming 1 vol. royal 8?o, complete, viith 112 beautifully coloured plates (pub. at il. 5s.), \ncloth, 21. 12s. 6d. 1828 \n" One of the most interesting, and hitherto the scarcest of Mr. Sweet\'s beautiful publications." \n\n\n\ni^iscellancous (!Bnglts5 Hiteraturc, \n\nINCLUDING \n\nHISTORY, BIOGRAPHY, VOYAGES AND TRAVELS, POETRY AND THE \nDRAMA, MORALS, AND MISCELLANIES. \n\n\n\nBACON\'S WORKS, both English and Latin. With an Introductory Essaj\', and copious \nIndexes. Complete in 2 large vols, imperial 8vo, Portrait (pub. at 2U 2s.), cloth, 11. 10s. 1838 \n\nBACON\'S ESSAYS AND ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING, with Memoir and Notes \nby Dr. Taylor, square 12mo, with 34 Woodcuts (pub. at 4a,), ornamental wrapper, 2i. Gd. \n\n1840 \n\nBANCROFT\'S HISTORY OF THE UNITED STATES, from the Discovery of the \nAmerican Continent, Twelfth Edition, 3 vols, Svo (published at 21. 10*.), cloth, li. lU. W. \n\n1847 \n\nBATTLES OF THE BRITISH NAVY, from a.d. looo to 1840. By Joseph Axxek, of \nGreenwich Hospital. 2 thick elegantly printed vols, foolscap 8vo, illustrated by 24 Portraits \nof British Admirals, beautifully engraved on Steel, and numerous Woodcuts of Battles (pub. \nat 11. Is.), cloth gilt, 14j. 1842 \n\n"These volumes are invaluable; they contain the very pith and marrow of our best Naval \nHistories and Chronicles." \xe2\x80\x94 Sun. \n\n"The best and most complete repository of the triumphs of the British Navy which has yet \nissued from the press."\xe2\x80\x94 United Senice Gasette. \n\nBORDERER\'S, THE TABLE BOOK, or Gatherings of the Local History and Romance of \nthe English and Scottish Kordtrs, by M. A. Richardsok (of Newcastle), 8 vols, bound in 4, \nroyal Svo, Illustrated with nearly looo interesting Woodcuts, extra cloth (pub. at 3/. lOs-.), \n1^ 11*. Newcastle, 1846 \n\n*\xc2\xbb* One of the cheapest and most attractive sets of books imaginable. \n\nBOSWELLS LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON; BY THE RIGHT HON. J. C. CROKER, \n\nIncorporating liis Tour to the Hel.Tides, and accompanied by the Commentaries of all pre- \nceding Editors: with numerous additional Notes and lUastrattve Anecdotes; to which are \nadded Two Supplementary Vohimes of Anecdotes by Hawkins, Piozzi, Murphy, Tyers,. \nReynolds, Steevens, and otiiers. lo vols. 12mo, illustrated by upwards of 50 Views, Por- \ntraits, and Sheets of Autographs, finely engraved on Steel, from Drawings by Stanfield, Hard- \ning, &c., cloth, reduced to \\t. lus. 1S48 \nThis new, improved, and greatly enlarged edition, beautifully printed in the popular form or \nSir Walter Scott, and Byron\'s Works, is just such an edition as Dr. Johnson himself loved and \nrecommended. In one of the Ana recorded in the supplementary volumes of the present edi- \ntion, he says: " Books that you may carry to the fire, and hold readily in your hand, are the \nmost useful after all. Such books form the mass of general and easy reading." \n\nBOURRIENNES MEMOIRS OF NAPOLEON, one stout, closely, but elegantly printed \nvol., foolscap l2mo, with fine equestrian Portrait of Napoleon and Frontispiece (pub. at 5*.), \ncloth, 3s. dd. 1814 \n\nBRITISH ESSAYISTS, viz.. Spectator, Tatler, Guardian, Rambler, Adventurer, Idler, and \nConnoiseur, 3 thick vols. 8vo, portraits (pub. at 2/. 5*.), cloth, 11, 1m, Either volume may be \nhad separate. \n\nBRITISH POETS, CABINET EDITION, containii>g the complete works of the princit)*} \nEnglish poets, fron. Milton to Kirke Wliite. 4 vols, post Svo (size of Standard Library) \nprinted in a very sDiall but beautiful t> pe, 22 Medallion PortraiU (oub. at 2<. 2#.), clotb, I6r. \n\n\n\nu \n\n\n\nCATALOGUE OF NEW BOOKS \n\n\n\nBROUGHAM\'S (I.ORD) POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY, and Essay on the British Constil*. \n\nlion, 3 vols. 8vo (pub. at II. lU. 6d,), cloth, II. U. 1844-e \n\xc2\xab British Constitution (a portion of the preceding work), 8to. cloth, 3*. \n\nBHOUGHAMS (LORD) HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF STATESMEN, and other \n\nPublic Characters of the time of Georjfe III. Vol. III. royal 8vo, with lu fine portraits \n(pub. at II. Is.), cloth, lOi. 6d. tS49 \n\nBROUGHAMS (LORD) LIVES OF MEN OF LETTERS AND SCIENCE, Who \n\nflourished in the time of George III, royal 8vo, \\(ith 10 fine portraits (pub. at 1^. U.), cloth, 12i. \n\n1S45 \n\n\xe2\x96\xa0 the same, also with the portraits, demy 8vo (pub. at U. cloth, lOi. 6d, 1816 \n\nBROWNE\'S (SIR THOMAS) WORKS, COMPLETE, including: his Vulgar Errors, \nKelifcio Medici, Urn Burial, Christian Morals, Correspondence, J ournals, and Tracts, many of \ntliem hitherto unpublished. The whole collected and edited by Simon Wilkin, F.L.S. 4 \nvols. 8vo, fine Portrait (pub. at 21. &s. ), clotli, 1/. Gd. fickerivy, 1836 \n\n\'\' , "Sir Thomas Browne, the contemporary of Jeremy Taylor, Hooke, Bacon, Selden, and \nKobcrt Burton, is undoubtedly one of the most eloquent and poetical of that irreat literary era. \nHis tliouirlits are often truly sublime, and always conveyed in the most impressive language.\'! \n\xe2\x80\xa2\xe2\x80\x94Chambert. \n\nBUCKINGHAM\'S AMERICA; HISTORICAL, STATISTICAL, AND DESCRIPTIVE, \n\nviz.: Northern States, 3 vole.; Eastern and Western States, 3 vols.; Southern or Slave States, \n2 vols.; Canada, Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, and the other British Provinces in North \nAmerica, 1 vol. Together 9 stout vols. 8vo, numerous fine Engravings (pul). at G/. lus. fia!.), \ncloth, 21. 12.V. firf. 1841-43 \n\n"Mr. Buckingham goes deliberately through the States, treating of all, historically and sta- \ntistically \xe2\x80\x94 of their rise and progress, their manufactures, trade, population, tojjotcraphy, fer- \ntility, resources, morals, manners, education, and so forth. His volumes wUi be Joumi a store- \nhouse of knowledge." Atken/mm. \n\n"A very entire and comprehensive view of the United States, diligently collected by a man \nof great acuteness and observation." \xe2\x80\x94 Literary Gazette. \n\nBURKE\'S (EDMUND) WORKS With a Biographical and Critical Introduction by Rogers. \n2 vols, imperial 8vo, closely but handsomely printed (pul>. at 21. 2s.), cloth, \\l, lo*. 1841 \n\nBURKES ENCYCLOP/\xe2\x82\xacDIA OF HERALDRY; OR, GENERAL ARMOURY \n\nOF ENGLAND, SCOTLAND, AND IRELAND. Compris-ing a Registry of all Armorial \nBearings, Crests, and Mottoes, from the Earliest Period to the Present Time, including the \nl&te Grants by the College of Arms. Willi an Introduction to Heraldry, and a IMt\'ti(mary of \nTerms. Third Edition, with a Supplement. One very large vol. imperial 8vo, beautifully \nprinted in small type, in double columns, by Whittingham, embellished with an elaborate \nFrontispiece, richly illuminated in gold and colours; also Woodcuts (pub. at 2/. 2\xc2\xbb.), doth \ngilt, U. 5\xc2\xbb. 1844 \nThe most elaborate and useful Work of the kind ever published. It contains upwards of \n30,000 armorial bearings, and incorporates all that have hitherto been given by Guillim, Ed- \nmondson, Collins, Nisbet, Berry, liobson, and others; besides many thousand names which \nhave never appeared in any previous Work. This volume, in fact, in a small compass, but \nwithout abridgment, contains more than four ordinary quartos. \n\nBURNS\' WORKS, WITH LIFE BY ALLAN CUNNINGHAM, AND NOTES BY \n\nSIR WALTER SCOTT, CAMPBELL, WORDSWORTH, LOCKHART, &c. Royal 8vo, \nfine Portrait and Plates (pub, at 18s.), cloth, uniform with Byron, los. Cd. 1842 \nThis is positively the only complete edition of Burns, in a single volume, Svo. It contains \nnot only every scrap which Burns ever wrote, wiiether iirose or verse, but also a considerable \nnumber of Scotch national airs, collected and illustrated by him {not given elsewhere) and full \nand interesting accounts of the occasions and circumstances of his various writings. The \nyery complete and interesting Life by Allan Cunningham alone occupies 104 pages, and the \nIndices and Glossary are very copious. The whole forms a thick elegantly printed volume, \nextending in all to 848 jiages. The other editions, including one published in similar shape, \n\xe2\x96\xa0with an abridgment of the Life by Allan Cunningham, comprised in only 47 pages, and the \n\xe2\x96\xa0whole volume in only 504 pages, do not contain above two-thirds of the above. \n\nCAMPBELL\'S LIFE AND TIMES OF PETRARCH. With Notices of Boccaccio and hii \nIllustrious Contemporaries. Second Edition. 2 vols. Svo, fine Portraits and Plates (pub. at \n1/. lis. dd.), cloth, 12i. 184J \n\nGARY\'S EARLY FRENCH POETS, a Series of Notices and Translations, with an Intro- \nductory Sketch of the History of French Poetry; Edited by his Son, the Rev. HiiKKv Caky. \nfoolscap, 8vo, cloth, bs. 1816 \n\nGARY\'S LIVES OF ENGLISH POETS, suppJementery to Dr. Johksok\'s "Lives." \nEdited by his Son, foolscap 8vo, cloth, 7s. 1846 \n\nCHATHAM PAPERS, being the Correspondence of William Pitt, Eari of Chatham \nEdited by the Executors of his Son, John Earl of Chatham, and published from the Origina- \nManuscripts in their possession. 4 vols. Svo (pub. at 3^. 12s.), cloth, \\l. 5s. \n\nMurray, 1838-40 \n\n"A production of greater historical interest could hardly be imagined. It is a standard \nwork, which will directly pass into every library."\xe2\x80\x94 /.i^eruri; Ga-ette. \n\n"There is hardly any man in modern times who fills so large a space in our histoi\'J\', and of \nwhom we know so liltie, as Lord Chatham ; he was the greatest Statesman and Orator that \nthis country ever prodiiced. We regard this Work, therefore, as one of the greatest v\xc2\xbbli\xc2\xbbe."-^ \nE4mburgh Jiev.iew, \n\n\n\nPUBLISHED OR SOLD BT H. G. BOIIN. 1\'5 \n\nCHATTERTON\'S WORKS- both Prose and Poetical, including his Letters; with Notice* \nof his Life, History of the ilowley Controversy, and Notes Cniicai ana fixplaiiatoty. 2 vol\'s \npost 8vo, elegantly printed, with Engraved Fac-similes of Chatterton\'s Handwriting and th^ \nRowley MSS. (pub. at Ijj.), cloth, 9\xc2\xbb. Large Paper, 2 vols, crown 8vo (pub. at II. U.), cloth, \nlis. 1842 \n\n" Warton, Malone, Croft, Dr. Knox, Dr. Sherwin, and others, in prose ; and Scott, Words- \nworth, Kirke White, Montgomery, Shelley, Coleridge, and Keats, in verse; have conferred \nlastins immortality upon the Poems of Chatterton." \n\n" Chattel-ton\'s was a genius 1 "e that of Homer and Shakspeare, which appears not above \nonce in many centuries." \xe2\x80\x94 Vicesimus Knoi. \n\nCLARKE\'S (Df?. E. D.) TRAVELS IN VARIOUS COUNTRIES OF EUROPE, \n\nASIA, AND AFRICA, 11 vols. 8vo, maps and plates (pub. at 10^.)i cloth, U. i*. 1827-34 \n\nCLASSIC TALES, Cahinet Eklition, comprising the Vicar of Wakefield, Elizabeth, Paul and \nVirginia, Gulliver\'s Travels, Sterne\'s Sentimental Journey, Sorrows of Werter, Theodosiiis \nand Constantia, Castle of Otranto, and Rasselas, complete In 1 vol. 12mo.; 7 medallion por- \ntraits (pub. at 10\xc2\xab. 6rf.), cloth, 3s. 6d. \n\nCOLMAN\'S (GEORGE) POETICAL WORKS, containing his Broad Grins. Vagaries, and \nEccentiieities, 24mo, woodcuts (pub. at 2s. 6(i.), cloth. Is. M. 1840 \n\nCOOPERS (J. F.) HISTORY OF THE NAVY OF THE UNITED STATES OF \n\nAMERICA, from the Earliest Perioa to the Peace of 1813, 2 vols, 8vo (pub. at U. 10s.), gilt \ncloth, I2s. 1838 \n\nCOPLEY\'S (FORMERLY MRS. HEWLETT) HISTORY OF SLAVERY AND ITS \n\nABOLITION. Second Edition, with an Appendix, thick small 8vo, fine Portrait of \nClarksun (pub. at Us.), cloth, 4s. 6(i. 1830 \n\nCOSTELLO S SPECIMENS OF THE EARLY FRENCH POETRV from the time of \n\nthe Troubadours to the Reign of Henry IV, post 8vo, witli i iMates, splendidly illuminated in \ngold and colours, cloth gilt, ISs. 1835 \n\nCOWPERS COMPLETE WORKS, EDITED BY SOUTHEY; comprising his Poems. \nCorrespondence, and Translations; with a Life of the Autlior. 15 .-ols. post 8vo, embellishea \nwith nuinerous exquisite Engraviiigs, alter the designs of Karvjy (pub. at 3/. 13s.), clothj \nSI. OS. 1835-3? \n\nThis is the only complete edition of Cowper\'s Works, prose and poetical, wliich has ever \nbeen given to the world. Many of them are still exclusively copyright, and consequently \ncannot appear in any other edition. \n\nCRAWFURD\'S (J.) EMBASSY TO SIAM AND COCHIN-CHINA. 2 vols. 8vo\xc2\xbb \n\nMaps, and 25 Plates (pub. at U. Us. Gd.), cloth, 12j. 1830 \n\nCRAWFURD\'S EMBASSY TO AVA, with an Appendix on Fossil Remains by Professor \nBucKLAND. 2 vols. 8vo, with 13 Maps, Plates, and Vignettes (pub. at 1/. Us. tSd.), cloth, \nI2s. 1834 \n\nCRUIKSHANK S THREE COURSES AND A DESSERT. A Series of Tales, in Three \nSets, viz., Irish, Legal, and Miscellaneous. Crown 8vo, with 51 extremely clever and comie \nIllustrations (publishing in the Illustrated Library at 5j.) \n\n"This is an extraordinary performance. Such an union of the painter, the poet, and the \nnovelist, in one person, is unexampled. A tithe of the talent that goes to making the storiea \nwould set up a aozen of annual writers ; and a tithe of the inventive genius that is displayed i\xc2\xbb \nthe illustrations would furnish a gallery."\xe2\x80\x94 S^jeciatcw. \n\nDAVIS\'S SKETCHES OF CHINA, During an Inland Journey of Four Months; with an \nAccount of the War. \'I\'wo vols., post 8vo, with a new map of China (pub. at ICs.), cloth, 9s. . \n\n1811 \n\nOIBDIN\'S BIBLIOMANIA: OR BOOK-MADNESS. A Bibliographical Romance. New \n\nEdition, with considerable Additions, including a Key to the assumed Cliaracters in the \nDrama, and a Supplement. 2 vols, royal 8vo, handsomely printed, embellished by numerous \nWoodcuts, many of which are now first added (pub. at 3^ 3s.), cloth, U. Us. 6(/. Large Paper, \nimperial 8vo, of which only very few copies were printed (pub. at 5/. 5*.), cloth, 3/. 13s. 6ti. \n\n1843 \n\nThis celebrated Work, which unites the entertainment of a romance with the most valuable \nInformation on all bibliographical subjects, has long been very scarce and sold for considerabH> \nsums\xe2\x80\x94 the small paper for 8/. is , and the large paper for upwards of SO guineas! I I \n\nDIBDIN\'S (CHARLES) SONGS, Admiralty edition, complete, with a Memoir by T. \nDiBnix, illustrated with 12 Characteristic Sketches, engraved on Steel by GEORGii Cruik- \nSHANK, 12mo, cloth lettered. 5s. 1848 \n\nDOMESTIC COOKERY, by a Lady (Mrs. Rundeli,) New Edition, with numerous additional \nReceipts, by Mrs. Birch, 12mo., with y plates (pub. at Cs.) cloth, 3*. 1846 \n\nBRAKE\'S SHAKSPEARE AND HIS TIMES, including the Biography of the Poet, \nCriticisms on his Genius and Writings, a t.ew Chronology of his Plays, and a History of the \nManners, Customs, and Amusements, Superstitions, Poetry, and Literature of the Elizal)ethan \nEra. 2 vols. 4to (above 1400 pages), with fine Portrait and a Plate of Autdgraphs (pub. at \n5L OS.), cloth, \\l. Is. 1817 \n"A masterly production, the publication of which will form an epoch in the Shaksjierian his- \ntory of this country. It comprises also a complete and critical analysis of all the Plays and \nPoems of Shakspeare; and a comprenensive and powerful sketch of the contemporary literi. \nture." \xe2\x80\x94 Genlkman\'s Jlayasine. \n\n\n\n}6 CATALOGUE OF NEW BOORS \n\nENGLISH CAUSES CELEBRES, OR, REMARKABLE TRIALS. Square IZmo, (pnK. \nat ti.), ornamental wrapper, 2s. \\MA \n\nf ENN\'S PASTON LETTERS, Original Letters of the Paston Family, written durinfr th\xc2\xab \nReigns of Henry VI, Edward IV, and Richard III, by various Persons of Rank and Conse- \nquence, chiefly on Historical Subjects. New Edition, with Notes and Corrections, complete, \n2 vols, hound in 1, square 12mo (pub. at Us.), clotli gilt, 5s. Guaintly bound in maroon \nmorocco, carved hoards, in the early style, pilt edges, 15\'. 1849 \nThe origrinal edition of this very curious and interesting series of historical Letters is a rare \nbook, and sells for upwards of ten guineas. The present is not an abridgment, as might be \nsupposed from its form, but gives the whole matter by omitting the duplicate version of the \nletters written in an obsolete language, and adopting only the more modern, readable version \npublished by Fenn. \n\n" The Paston Letters are an important testimony to the progressive condition of society, and \ncome in as a precious link in the chain of the moral history of England, which they alone io \nthis period supply. They stand indeed singly in Europe." \xe2\x80\x94 Hallam. \n\nFIELDING\'S WORKS, EDITED BY ROSCOE, COMPLETE IN ONE VOLUME. \n\n(Tom Jones, Amelia, Jonathan Wild, Joseph Andrews. Plays, Essays, and Miscellanies.) \nMedium 8vo, with 20 ca])ital Plates by Cruikshank .pub. at U. 4s.), cloth gilt, 14*. 1848 \n\n"Of all the works of imagination to which English genius has given origin, the writinifs of \nHenry Fielding are perhaps most decidedly and exclusively her own." \xe2\x80\x94 Sir Watler Scott. \n\n"The prose Homer of hitman nature." \xe2\x80\x94 Lord Byron. \n\nFOSTER\'S ESSAYS ON DECISION OF CHARACTER ; on a Man\'s Writing Memoir* \nof Himself; on the epithet Romantic; on the Aversion of Men of Taste to Evangelical Reli- \ngion, &c. Fcap. 8vo, Eighteenth Edition (pub. at e\xc2\xbb.), cloth, 5.t. 184S \n" I have read with the greatest admiration the Essays of Mr. Ko.-itcr. He is one of the most \nprofound and eloquent writers that England has produced." \xe2\x80\x94 Sir James Mackintosh. \n\nFOSTER\'S ESSAY ON THE EVILS OF POPULAR IGNORANCE. New Edition, \nelegantly printed, in fcap, 8vo, now first uniform with his Essays on Decision of Character, \ncloth, is. 1S47 \n\n"Mr, Foster always considered this his best work, and the one by which he wished his \nliterary claims to be estimated." \n\n" A work which, popular and admired as it confessedly is, has never met with the thousandth \npart of the attention which it deserves." \xe2\x80\x94 Dr. Pye Smith. \n\nFROISSARTS CHRONICLES OF ENGLAND, FRANCE, AND SPAIN, &C. New \n\nEdition, bv Colonel Johnes, with 120 beautiful Woodcuts, 2 vols, super-royal 8vo, cloth \nlettered (pub. at U. \\&s.), U. 6s. 1849 \n\nFROISSART, ILLUMINATED ILLUSTRATIONS OF, 74 plates, printed in gold and \n\ncolours, 2 vols, super-royal 8vo, half bound, uncut (pub. at il. lOs.), 3/. U>j. \n\xe2\x80\x94\xe2\x80\x94\xe2\x80\x94\xe2\x80\x94\xe2\x80\x94\xe2\x80\x94 the same, large paper, 2 vols, royal 4to, half bound, uncut (pub. at in/, in.t.), 6^ G*. \n\nFROISSART\'S CHRONICLES, WITH the 74 illuminated illustrations \n\nINSERTED, 2 vols, super-roval 8vo, elegantly half bound red morocco, gilt edges, enible- \nmatically tooled (pub. at 6/. Gj.\'), il. 10\xc2\xbb. 184a \n\nGAZETTEER.-NEW EDINBURGH UN\'IVERSAL GAZETTEER, AND GEOGR.\\- \nPHICAL DICTIONARY, more complete than any hitherto published. New Edition, revised \nand completed to the present time, by John Thomson (Editor of the Universul Atlas, tic), \nvery thick 8vo (imo pages), Mai)s (p\\i\'b. at 1S.(.), cloth, ll\'.?. \n\nThis comprehensive volume is the latest, and by fiir the best Universal Gazetteer of its size. \nIt includes a full account of Affghanistan, New Zealand, &c. &c. \n\nCELLS (SIR WILLIAM) TOPOGRAPHY OF ROME AND ITS VICINITY. An \n\nimproved Edition, complete in 1 vol. 8vo, with several Plates, clotl), !2s. With a very large \nMap of Rome and its Environs (from a most careful trigonometrical survey ), mounted on cloth, \nand folded in a case so as to form a volume. Together 2 vols. 8vo, cloth, M. U. I84fi \n"These folumes are so replete with what is valuable, that were we to employ o\\ir entire \njournal, we could, after all, afford but a meagre indication of their interest and wortli. It is, \nindijed, a lasti g memorial of eminent literary exertion, devoted to a subject of great import- \nance, and one dear, not only to every scholar, but to every reader of intelligence to whom the \ntruth of history is an object of consideration." \n\nGILLIES\' (DR.) HISTORICAL COLLECTIONS, Relating to Remarkable Periods of the \nSuccess of the Gospel, including the Appendix and Supplement, with Prefaces and Con- \ntinuation by the Rev. H. Boxar, royal Svc (pub. at Ijs. ml.), cloth; Is. Cd. 1845 \n\nGLEIG\'S MEMOIRS OF WARREN HASTINGS, Orst Governor-General of BengaL 3 \nvols. 8V0, fine Portrait (^ub. at 21. Ss.), cloth, 1^. is. 1841 \n\nGOETHE\'S FAUST, PART THE SECOND, as completed in 18.11, translated into English \nVerse by John Macdonald Bell, Esq. Second Edition, fcap. 8vo (pub. at 6s.l, cloth, 3*. \n\n1842 \n\nCOLDSMITH\'S WORKS, with a Life and Notes. 4 vols. fcap. 8vo, with emrraved Titles and \nPlates by Stothard and Cruikshank. New and elegant Edition (pub. at 11.). extra \ncloth, 12s. 1848 \n\n" Can any author\xe2\x80\x94 can even Sir Walter Scott, be compared with Goldsmith for the variety, \nbeauty, and power of his compositions? You may take him and \'cut him out in little stars,\' so \nmany lights does he present to the imagination." \xe2\x80\x94 Alkentmim. \n\n"The volumes of Goldsmith will ever constitute one of the most precious \'wells of English \nundefiled.\'" \xe2\x80\x94 Quarterly Keview. \n\nGORDON\'S HISTORY OF THE GREEK REVOLUTION, and of the War. and Cam- \n\npaigus arising from the Struggles of the Greek Patriots in emancipating their countrv from th\xc2\xab \nTurkish yoke. By the late Thomas Gordon, General of a Divi.\'ion of the Greek Army. \nSecond Edition. 2 vols. 8to, Maps and Plans (pub. at 1/. los.), cloth, lot. 6d. \n\n\n\nPUBLISHED OR SOLD BY H. G. BOHN. \n\n\n\n17 \n\n\n\nGORTON\'S BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY, 3 thick toIs. Sto, cloth lettered (pnb. at \n\n31. 2s.), U. lit. 6d. \n\nGRANVILLE\'S (DR.) SPAS OF ENGLAND and Principal Sea Bathing Places. 3 yoU. \npost 8T0, wilh large Map, aud upwards of 50 beautiful Woodcuts (pub. at U. 13*.), cloth, ^^-^^ \n\nGRANVILLE\'S (DR.) SPAS OF GERMANY, 8vo, with 39 Woodcuts and Maps (pub. at \n1S\xc2\xbb.), cloth, 9\xc2\xab. 1S4S \n\nHALL\'S (CAPTAIN BASIL) PATCHWORK, consisting of Travels, and Adventures In \nSwitzerland, lUlr, France, Sicily, Malta, kc. 3 vols, 12mo, Second Edition, cloth, gilt (pub. at \n15*.), 7*. 6d. \n\nHEEREN\'S (PROFESSOR) HISTORICAL WORKS, translated from the German, viz.- \nAsiA, New Edition, complete in 2 vols.\xe2\x80\x94 Africa, 1 vol.\xe2\x80\x94 Europe and its Colonies, I \nTol.\xe2\x80\x94 Ancient Greece, and Historical Treatises, 1 vol.\xe2\x80\x94 Manual of Ancient His- \nIQRT, 1 vol.\xe2\x80\x94 together 6 vols. 8vo (formerly pub. at 7\'.), cloth lettered, uniform, 3/. 3*. \n*\xc2\xbb* New and Complete Editions, with General Indexes. \n\n"Professor Heeren\'s Historical Researches stand in the very highest rank among those with \nwhich modern Germany has enriched the Literature of Europe."\xe2\x80\x94 Quar 6d. :\xe2\x80\x94 \nVol. I.\xe2\x80\x94 The Canadas, Upper and Lower. \nI Vol. II.\xe2\x80\x94 New Sovth Wales, Van Diemen\'s Land, Swan River, and South Aus- \n\nXRALIA. \n\nVol. III.\xe2\x80\x94 Tke Cape of Good Hope, Mauritius, and SEYCHELiEs. \n\nVol. IV.\xe2\x80\x94 The West Indies. Vol. I.\xe2\x80\x94 Jamaica, Honduras, Trinidad, Tobago, Grajsada, \nthe Bahamas, and the Virgin Isles. \n\nVol. v.\xe2\x80\x94 The West Indies. Vol. II.\xe2\x80\x94 British Guiana, Barbadoes, St. Lucia., St. Vincent, \nDemerara, Essequibo, Berbice, Anguilla, Tortola, St. Kitt\'s, Barbuda, Antigua, Montserrat, \nPominica, and Nevis. \n\nVol. VI.\xe2\x80\x94 Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, Cape Breton, Prince Edward\'s Islk, \nThe BEfiDUDAS, Newfoundland, and Hudson\'s Bay. \xe2\x80\xa2 \nVol. VII.\xe2\x80\x94 Gibraltar, Malta, The Ionian Islands, &c. \n\nVol. VIII.\xe2\x80\x94 The East Indies. Vol. I. containing Bengal, Ma\'ras, Bombay, Agra, &c. . \nVol. IX.\xe2\x80\x94 The Ea.st Indies. Vol. II. \n\n"Vol. X.\xe2\x80\x94 British Possessions in the Indian and Atlantic Oceans, viz.\xe2\x80\x94 Ceylon, \nJ?\xc2\xabnang, Malacca, Singapore, Sierra Leont thi Gambia, C*^ Coast Castle, Accra, thti Fulk- \n\xc2\xbbj3ld Islands, St. Ile ena and Asceuiiia \n\n\n\nPUBLISHED OK SOLD BT H. G. BOHN. \n\n\n\n19 \n\n\n\nMARTIN\'S (IVIONTGOIViERY) CHINA, Political, Gommercial, and Sf.cial. Two vols. \n8vo, 6 maps, statistical tables, &c. (pub. at U. is.), cloth, 14si 1847 \n\nMAXWELL\'S LIFE OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 3 handsome volumes, 8vo, \nEmbellislied with numerous hiphly-finished Line-Knarravings by Coopku and other eminent \nArtists, consisting of Battle-Pieces. Portraits, Military Plans and Maps; besides a great \nmumber of fine Wood Engravinffs. (Pub. at 3/. 7s.), eleg\'ant in gilt cloth, 11. ICs. Large paper, \n\'India proofs (pub. at 5/.), gilt cloth, 31. 3.\xc2\xab. 1839-41 \nMr. Maxwell\'s \' Life of the Duke of Wellington,\' In our opinion, has no rival among similar \n\npublications of the day We pronounce it free from flattery and boml)ast, succinct \n\nand masterly The type and mechanical execution are admirable ; the plans of \n\nbattles and sieges numerous, ample, and useful; the portraits of the Duke and his warrior \ncontemporaries many and faithful; the battle pictures animated and brilliant; and the \nvignettes of costumes and manners worthy of the military genius of Horace Vernet himself."\xe2\x80\x94 \nTinges. \n\nMILL\'S ELEMENTS OF POLITICAL ECONOMY, new Edition, revised and corrected, \n8vo (pub. at 8\xc2\xab.), cloth, 3s. dd. 1844 \n\nMILTON\'S WORKS, BOTH PROSE AND POETICAL, with an Introductory Jleview, \nby Flktcher, comjjlete in 1 thick vol. imperial 8vo (pnh. at 1/. 5s.), cloth lettered, 11. Is. 1838 \nThis is the only complete edition of Milton\'s Prose Works, at a moderate price. \n\nMITFORDS HISTORY OF GREECE, BY LORD REDESDALE, the Chronology cor- \nrected and com|)ared with Clintmi\'s Fasti l/e/leniri, bv King, (Cadell\'s last and much the best \nEdition, 1S38) 8 vols. 8vo (pub. at 4^. is.}, gilt cloth, U. 18s. \nTree-inarbled calf extra, by Clarke, il. is. \n\nIn respect to this new and impraved edition, one of the most eminent scholars of the present \nday has expressed his opinion that "the increased advantages given to it have doubled the \noriginal value of the work." \n\nIt should be observed that the numerous additions and the amended Chronology, from that \nvaluable performance, the Fasti I/eUenici, are subjoined in the shape of Notes, so as not to \ninterfere with the integrity of the text. \n\nAs there are many editions of Mitford\'s Greece before the public, it may be necessary to \nobserve that the present octavo edition is the only one which contains Mr. King\'s last correc- \ntions and additions (which, as stated in his advertisement, are material); it is at the same \ntime the only edition which should at the present day be chosen for the gentleman\'s library, \nbeing the handsomest, the most correct, and the most complete. \n\nLord Byron says of Mitford, " His is the best Modern History of Greece in any language, \nand he is perhaps the best of all modern historians whatsoever. His virtues are learning, \nlaliour, research, and earnestness." \n\n" Considered with respect, not only to the whole series of ancient events which it comprises, \nbut also to any very prominent portion of that series, Mr. Mitford\'s History is the best that \nhas appeared since the days of Xenophon." \xe2\x80\x94 Edirihuryh Review. \n\nMONSTRELETS CHRONICLES OF ENGLAND AND FRANCE, by Colonel \nJoHNiss, with Notes, and upwards of 100 Woodcuts (uniform with Froissart), 2 vols, super- \nroyal 8vo, cloth lettered (pub. at 11. 10s.), 1/. is. \n\nMOORE\'S (THOMAS) EPICUREAN, A TALE; AND ALCIPHRON, A POEM. \n\nTuRNKii\'s Illustrated Edition, fcap. 8vo, 4 beautiful Engravings (pub. at 10s. 6rf.), cloth, 3s., \nor elegantly bound in morocco, 7s. (iti. 1839 \n\nMORES UTOPIA, OR, THE HAPPY REPUBLIC, a Philosophical Romance; to which \nis added, THE NEW ATLANTIS, by Lord Bacon; with a Preliminary Discourse, and \nNotes, by J. A. St. John, fcap. 8vo (pub. at 6s.), cloth, 4s. 6rf.\xe2\x80\x94 With the Life of Sir Thomas \nMore, by Sir James Mackintosh, 2 vols. fcap. 8vo, cloth, 8s. 1845 \n\nNELSON\'S LETTERS AND DISPATCHES, by Sir Harris Nicolas, 7 vols. 8vo (pub. \nat bl. lOs.), cloth, 3/. lOs. 1845-46 \n\nMIEBUHR\'S HISTORY OF ROME epitomized, with Chronological Tables and an Ap- \npendi.K, by Travers Twiss, B.C.L. 2 vols. 8vo, cloth (pub. at IL. Is.), 10*. Cd. \n\n\n\n\xe2\x96\xa0 tlie same, in calf, gilt (for school prizes), 15s. \n\n\n\nCSSIAN\'S POEMS, translated bj Macptikrson, with Dissertations concerning the Era and \nPoems of OssiAN ; and Dr. Blair\'s Critical Dissertation, complete in 1 neatly printed vol. \n18mo, Frontispiece (pub. at 4s.), cloth, 3s. 1844 \n\nOUSELEYS (SIR WILLIAM) TRAVELS IN VARIOUS COUNTRIES OF THE \n\nEAST, MORE PAKTICULARLY PERSIA; with Extracts from rare and valuable Oriental \nManuscripts; and SB Plates and Maps, 3 vols. 4to (pub. at U/.), extra cloth boards, 3Z. 3s. \n\nOXFORD ENGLISH PRIZE ESSAYS, new Edition, brought down to 1836, 5 vols, crown \n8vo. cloth lettered (pub. at 2\'.. 5s.), U. bs. \n\nPARDOE\'S (MISS) CITY OF THE MAGYAR, Or Hun^ar^\xe2\x80\xa2 and her Institutions in 1839- \n40, 3 vols. 8vo, with 9 Engravings (pub. at U. Us. Gt^.), gilt cloth, 10s. dd. 1840 \n\nPARRY\'S CAMBRIAN PLUTARCH, comprising Memoirs of some of the most eminent \nWelshmen, from the earliest times to the present, 8vo (pub. at 10s. (,d.), cioth, is. 1834 \n\nPERCYS RELIQUES OF ANCIENT ENGLISH POETRY, consisting of Old Heroic \nBallads, Songs, and other Pieces of our Earlier Poets, together with some few of later date \nand a copious Glossary, complete in 1 vol. medium Svo. New and elegant Edition, with beau- \ntifully engraved Title and Frontisi)iece, by Stf.phanoff (pub. at l;-.^.), cloth, gilt, 7s. M. 1844 \n" ]>ut above all, I then first became acijuainted with Bishop Percv\'s \' Reliijues of Ancient \nPoetry.\' The first time, too, I could scrape a few shillings tdgethHri I bonirht unto myself a \ncopv of these beloved volumes; nor do I believe 1 ever read a book half so frequently, or with \nhalf ! lie enthusiasm."\xe2\x80\x94 6ir "A\'aller Scott. \n" I\'en v\'s Reliiiues are the most agreeable selection, perhaps, which exists in anv lanimaae." \n\n\n\n20 \n\n\n\nCATALOGtrti- OF NEW BOOKS \n\n\n\nPOPULAR ERRORS EXPLAINED AND ILLUSTRATED. By John t.mbs (Author \nof Laconics, and Editor ol\' tlie "Illustrated London News,") thick fcap. 8vo, closely hut \nelegantly printed, Frontispiece, cloth, reduced to 5*. 1841 \n\nPRIOR\'S LIFE OF EDMUND BURKE, with unpublished Specimens of his Poetry ami \nLetters. Third and much improved Edition, 8vo, Portrait and Autographs (pub. at lis.), giit \ncloth, 9s. 1839 \n" Excellent feeling, in perspicuous and forcible language."\xe2\x80\x94 QuaWeWy Review. \n\n\n\nPRIOR\'S LIFE OF OLIVER GOLDSMITH, from a variety of Original Sources, 2 vols. 8yo, \n\nMr. \n\nacq 11 \n\n\n\nhandsomely printed (pub. at U. lOs.), gilt cloth, 12s. 1S37 \n\'The solid worth of this hiograpliy consists in the many striking anecdotes which Mr. Prior \n\n\n\ngathered in the course of his anxious researches among Goldsmith\'s surviviii; \nances, and the immediate descendants of his personal friends in London, and relations in \nIreland: above all, in the rich mass of the poet\'s own familiar letters, which he has been \nenabled to bring together for the first time. No poet\'s letters in the world, not even those of \nCowper, appear to us more interesting."\xe2\x80\x94 QuartcW^/ Review. \nRAFFLES\' HISTORY OF JAVA, AND LIFE, with an account of Bencoolen, and Details \nof the Commerce and Resources of the Indian Archipelago. Edited by Ladv Kakfi.es. \nTogether 4 vols. 8vo, and a splendid quarto atlas, containing upwards of 100 Plates hy Daniel, \nmany finely coloured (pub. at 4^. 14s.), cloth, 21. 8s. 1830-35 \n\nRICH\'S BABYLON AND PERSEPOLIS, viz. Narrative of a Journey to the Site of \nBabylon; Two Memoirs on the Ruins; Remarks on the Topography of Ancient Babylon, by \nMajor Re.vnell; Narrative of a Journey to Persepolis, with hitherto unpublished Cuneiform \nInscriiitions. 8vo, Maps and Plates (pub. at II. Is.), cloth, 10s. 6d. Duncan, 1839 \n\nRITSON\'S VARIOUS WORKS AND METRICAL ROMANCES, as Published by \nPickering, the Set, viz :\xe2\x80\x94 Roi)in Hood, 2 vols.\xe2\x80\x94 Annals of the Caledonians, 2 vols.\xe2\x80\x94 Ancient \nSongs and Ballads, 2 vols.\xe2\x80\x94 Memoirs of the Celts, 1 vol.\xe2\x80\x94 Life of King Arthur, 1 vol.\xe2\x80\x94 Ancient \nPopular Poetrv, 1 vol.\xe2\x80\x94 Fairy Tales, 1 vol.\xe2\x80\x94 Letters and Memoirs of Ritson, 2 vols : together \n12 vols, post 8vo (pub. at 6^ os. 6d.), cloth gilt, ZL. is. 1827-33 \nOr separately as follows : \n\nRITSON\'S ROBIN HOOD, a Collection of Ancient Poems, Songs, and Ballads, relative to that \ncelebrated Outlaw; with Historical Anecdotes of his Life. 2 vols. IGs. \n\nRITSON\'S ANNALS OF THE CALEDONIANS, PICTS, AND SCOTS. 2 vols. IGs. \n\nRITSON\'S MEMOIRS OF THE CELTS OR GAULS. 10s. \n\nRITSON\'S ANCIENT SONGS AND BALLADS. 2 vols. 18s. \n\nRITSON\'S PIECES OF ANCIENT POPULAR POETRY. Post 8vo. 7s. \n\nRITSON\'S FAIRY TALES, now first collected ; to which are prefixed two Dissertations\xe2\x80\x94l. On \nPigmies. 2. On Fairies, 8s. \n\nRITSON\'S LIFE AND LETTERS OF JOSEPH RITSON, Esq. edited from Originals in thp \nPossession of his Nephew, by Sir Harris Nicolas, 2 vols. 16s. \n\n" No library can be called complete in old English lore, which has not the whole of the pro- \nductions of this laborious and successful antiquary." \xe2\x80\x94 AthetKrum. \n"Joseph Ritson was an antiquary of the first order." \xe2\x80\x94 Quarterly Review. \n\nROBINSON CRUSOE, Cabinet Pictorial Edition, including his Further Adventures, with \nLife of Defoe, &c. upwards of 60 fine Woodcuts, from Designs by Harvey, fcap. 8vo, New \nand improved Edition, with additional cuts, cloth gilt, 5s. 1845 \nThe only small edition which is quite complete. \n\n"Perhaps there exists no work, either of instruction or entertainment, in the English lan- \nguage which has been more generally read, or more deservedly admired, than the Life and \nAdventures of Robinson Cr isoe." \xe2\x80\x94 Sir Walter Scott. \n\nRODNEY\'S (LORD) LIFE, by Lieut.-Gen. Mundy, New Edition, fcap. 8vo, Portrait, cloth \n(pub. at 6s.), 3s. &d. \n\nROLLIN\'S ANCIENT HISTORY, a New and complete Edition, with engraved Frontispieces \nand 7 Maps. 2 vols, bound in 1 \'jtout iiaiidsome vol. royal 8vo (pub. at \\l. 4s.), cloth, 12s. 1844 \nThe only complete edition in a comp\xc2\xabt form; it is uniform in size and appearance with \nMoxon\'s Series of Dramatists, &c. The previous editions of RoUin in a single volume are \ngreatly abridged, and contain scarcely half the work. \n\nROSCOE\'S LIFE AND PONTIFICATE OF LEO THE TENTH. New and much \n\nimproved Edition, edited by his Son, Thomas Roscoe. Complete in 1 stout vol. 8vo, closely \nbut very handsomely printed, illustrated by 3 fine Portraits, and numerous illustrative En- \ngravings, as head and tail-pieces, cloth, 1^ 4s. 1845 \n\nROSCOES LIFE OF LORENZO DE MEDICI, CALLED "THE MAGNIFICENT." \n\nNew and much improved Edition, edited by his Son, Thomas Roscoe. Complete in 1 stout \nvol. 8vo, closely but very handsomely printed, illustrated by numerous Engravings, introduced \nas head and tail-pieces, cloth, 12s. 1845 \n\n" I have not terms sufficient to express my admiration of Mr. Roscoe\'s genius and erudition, \nor my gratitude for the amusement and information I have received. I recommend his labours \nto our country as works of unquestionable genius and uncommon merit. They add the name of \nRoscoe to the very first rank ot English Classical Historians." \xe2\x80\x94 MullUias, Pursuits oj Literature. \n\n" Roscoe is, I think, liy far the best of our Historians, both for beauty of style and for deep \nreflections; and his translations of poetry are eaual to the originals.\' -Watpole, Earl of Orford. \n\nROSCOES ILLUSTRATIONS, HISTORICAL AND CRITICAL, of the Life oi \nLorenzo de Medici, with an Appendix of Original Documents. 8vo, Portrait of Lorenzo, and \nPlates (pub. at 14s.), boards, 7s., or in 4to, printed to match the original edition. Portrait \nand Plates (pub. at 1/. lis. 6c/.), boards, 10.,. \n*\xc2\xab* This volume is supplementary to all editious of the work. \n\n\n\nPUBLISHED OR SOLD BY H. G. BOHN. \n\n\n\n21 \n\n\n\nROXBURGHE BALLADS, edited by John Payne Collier, post 4to, beautifully printed \nby Whittingham, and embellished with 50 curious Woodcuts, half bound morocco, in the \nRoxburgh style (pub. at U. 12\xc2\xbb. 1847 \n\nSCOTT S (SIR WALTER) POETICAL WORKS. Containing Lay of the Last Minstrel, \nMannion, Lady of the Lake, Don Roderic, Rokeby, Ballads, Lyrics, and Songs, with Notes \nand a Life of the Author, complete in one elegantly printed vol. 18mo, Portrait and Frontis- \npiece (pub. at is.), cloth, 3s, 6d. 1843 \n\nSHAKESPEARE\'S PLAYS AND POEMS. Valpy\'s Cabinet Pktorial Edition, with Lifej \nGlossarial Notes, and Historical Digests of each Play, &c. 15 vols. fcap. 8vo, with 171 Platas \nengraved on Steel after desiirns of the most distinguished British Artists, also Fac-similes \'li \nall the Imown Autographs of Shakespeare (pub. at 31, los.), cloth, richly gilt, 21. 5\xc2\xbb. 1843 \n\nSHAKSPEARE\'S PLAYS AND POEMS, in l vol. 8vo, with Explanatory Notes, acd a \nMemoir by Dr. Johnson, portrait (pub. at 15j.), cloth, Is. 6c/. \n\nSHAKSPEARE\'S PLAYS AND POEMS, Pocket Edition, with a Life by Alexander \nChalmers, complete in 1 thick vol. 12mo, pnnted in a Diamond tj-pe, with 40 steel Engrav- \nings (pub. at 10s. 6d.), sloth, 5i. 1818 \n\nSHERIDAN\'S (THE RIGHT HON. R. BRINSLEY) SPEECHES, with a Sketch of his \nLife, Edited by a Constitutional Friend. New and handsome library Edition, with Portrait, \ncomplete in 3 vols. Svo (pub. at 21. os.), cloth, 18s. 1842 \n" Whatever Sheridan has done, has been par excellence, alvrays the best of its kind. He has \nwritten the best comedy (School for Scandal), the best drama (The Duenna), the best farce (The \nCritic), and the best address (Monologue on Garrick); and to crown all, delivered the very \nbest oration (the famous Begum Speech) ever conceived or heard in this country."\xe2\x80\x94 iJi^row. \n\nSHIPWRECKS AND DISASTERS AT SEA; narratives of the most remarkable Wrecks, \nConflagrations, Mutinies, &c. comprising the "Loss of the AVager," "Mutiny of the Bounty," \n&c. 12mo, frontispiece and vignette (pub. at 6\xc2\xab.), cloth, 3j. 1816 \n\nSMOLLETT\'S WORKS, Edited by Roscoe. Complete in 1 vol. (Roderick Random, Hum- \nphrey Clinker, Peregrine Pickle, Launcelot Greaves, Count Fatlicm, Adventures of an Atom, \nTravels, Plays, &c.) Medium 8vo, with 21 capital Plates, by Cruikshank (pub. at \\l. is.), \ncloth gilt. Us. 1845 \nPerhaps no books ever written excited such peals of inextinguishable laughter as Smol- \nlett\'s."\xe2\x80\x94 Sir Walltr Scott. \n\nSOUTHEY\'S LIVES OF UNEDUCATED POETS. To which are added, "Attempts in \nVerse," by John Jones, an Old Servant. Crown Svo (pub. at 10s. 6c/.), cloth, 4j. m. \n\nMurray, 1836 \n\nSPENSER\'S POETICAL WORKS. Complete, with Introductory Observations on the \nFaerie Queen, and Glossarial Notes, handsomely printed in S vols, post Svo, fine Portrait \n(pub. at 21. 12s. 6c/.), cloth, 1/. 1\xc2\xbb. 1845 \n\nSTERNE\'S WORKS, complete in 1 vol. Svo, Jortrart and vignette (pub. at 18s.), cloth, 10s. 6cf. \n\nST. PIERRE\'S WORKS, including the Studies of Nature," "Paul and Virginia," and the \n"Indian Cottage," with a Memoir of the Author, and Notes, by the Rev. E. Clarke, \ncomplete in 2 thick vols. fcap. Svo, Portra\\t and Frontispieces (pub. at 16s.), cloth, 7s. 1846 \n\nSWIFT\'S WORKS, Edited by Roscoe. Complete in 2 vols. Medium Svo, Portrait (pub. at \n1/. 12s.), cloth gilt, 1/. 4s. 1848 \n" Whoever in the three kingdoms has any books at all, has Swift."\xe2\x80\x94 iorti Chesterfield. \n\nTAYLOR\'S (W. B. S.) HISTORY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF DUBLIN, numerous \nWood Engravings of its Buildings and Academic Costumes (pub. at 1/.), cloth, 7*. 6ti. 1845 \n\nTHIERS\' HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION, the lo parts in I thick vol. \nroyal Svo, handsomely printed, cloth lettered (pub. at 1/. 5s.), lOs. \n\n\xe2\x96\xa0 the same, the parts separately, each (pub. at 2s. 6c/.) Is. M. \n\nTHIERS\' HISTORY OF THE CONSULATE AND tMPIRE OF NAPOLEON, \n\nthe 10 parts in 1 thick volume, royal Svo, handsomely printed, cloth lettered (pub. at 1/. 5s.), \n10s. \n\n\n\nthe same, the parts separately, each (pub. at 2\xc2\xab. 6d.) Is. 6d. \n\n\n\nTUCKER S LIGHT OF NATURE PURSUED. Complete in 2 vols. Svo (pub. at 1/. lOs.), \n\nclotU, 15$. 1842 \n"The \'Light of Nature\' Is a work which, after much consideration, I think myself autho- \nrized to call the most original and profound that has ever appeared on moral philosophy."\xe2\x80\x94 Sir \nJames Mackintosh, \n\nTYTLER\'S ELEMENTS OF GENERAL HISTORY, New Edition, thick l2mo (526 \nclosely printed pages), steel frontispiece (pub. at 5s.) clofh, 3s. 6ci. 1S47 \n\nWADE\'S BRITISH HISTORY, CHRONOLOGICALLY ARRANGED. Comprehending \na cJassiSed Analysis of Events and Occurrences in Church and State, and of the Constitutional; \nPolitical, Commercial, Intellectual, and Social Progress of the United Kingdom, from the first \nInvasion by the Romans to the Accession of Ctueen Victoria, with very copious Index ana \nSupplement. New Edition. 1 large and remarkably thick vol. royal Svo (1200 pages), \nCloth, 18*. 1847 \n\n\n\n22 \n\n\n\nCATALOGUE OF NEW BOOKS \n\n\n\nWATERSTQN\'S CYCLOP/EDIA OF COMMERCE, MERCANTILE, LAW, FINANCE, \nCOMMEiTciAL, GEOGRAPHY AND NAVIGATION. New Edition, including the New \nTariff (complete to the present time) ; the French Tariff, as far as it concerns this country; \nand a Treatise on the Principles, Practice, and History of Commerce, by J. R. M\'Culloch. \n1 verj- tiiick closely printed vol. 8vo (900 pages), with 4 Maps (pub. at 11. is.), extra cloth, \nIOj. 6rf. 1847 \n"This capital work will be found a most valuable manual to every commercial man, and a \nuseful hook to tlie general reader. \n\niWEBSTER\'S ENLARGED DJCTIONARY OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE, \n\nContaining the whole of the former editions, and large additions, to which is prefixed an Intro- \nductory Dissertation on the connection of the languages of Western Asia and Eui-ope, edited \nby Ch AUNCEY A. Gdodrich, in one thick elegantly printed volume, 4to., cloth, 21. 2s. {The \nmost complete dictionary extant). 1848 \n\nWHITE\'S FARRIERY, improved by Rosser, 8vo, with plates engraved on Steel (pub. at 14j.), \ncloth, 7s. 1847 \n\nWHYTES HISTORY OF THE BRITISH TURF, FROM THE EARLIEST PERIOD \nTO THE PRESENT DAY. 2 vols. 8vo, Plates (pub. at U. 85.), cloth, 123. 1840 \n\nWILLIS\'S PENCILLINGS BY THE WAY. A new and beautiful Edition, with additions, \nfcap. 8vo, fine Portrait and Plates [pub. at 6s.), extra red Turkey cloth, richly gilt back, 3s. 6c/. \n\n" A lively record of first impressions, conveying vividly what w:ts seen, heard, and felt, by an \nactive and inquisitive traveller, through some of the most interesting parts of Europe. His \ncuriosity and love of enterprise are unbounded. The narrative is told in easy, fiuent liuiguage, \nwith a poet\'s power oT il\\astra.tion."\xe2\x80\x94Edinbu.r(/h Review. \n\nWORCESTER\'S NEW CRITICAL AND PRONOUNCING DICTIONARY OF \n\nTHE ENGLISH LANGUAGE, to which is added Walker\'s Key, and a Pronouncing Voca- \nbulary of modern Geogrraphical Names, thick imperial 8vo (pub. at U. 5\xc2\xab.), cloth, 18*. 1847 \n*\xe2\x99\xa6* The most extensive catalogue of words ever produced. \n\nWRANGELL\'S EXPEDITION TO SIBERIA AND THE POLAR SEA, edited by \nLieut.-Col. Sabine, thick 12mo, large map and port. (pub. at 6.?.), cloth, 4s. 6d. 1844 \n\nWRIGHT\'S COURT HAND RESTORED, or the student assisted in reading old charters, \ndeeds, &c. small 4to, 23 plates (pub. at 11. Gs.), cloth, lU. 1845 \n\n\n\nBJNGHAMS ANTIQUITIES OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH. New and Improved \n\nEdition, carefully revised, with an enlarged Index. 2 vols. impl. 8vo, cloth, 1/. Hi. 6cf. 1850 \n" Bingham is a writer wlio does equal honour to the English clergy and to the English \nnation, and whose learning is only to be equalled by his moderation and impartiality." \xe2\x80\x94 \nQuarterly Review. \n\nBUNYAN\'S PILGRIM\'S PROGRESS. Quite complete, with a Life and Notes, by the Rev \nT. Scott Fcap. 12m.o, with 25 fine full-sized Woodcuts by Harvey, containing all in \nSouthey\'s edition; also a fine Frontispiece and Vignette, cloth, 3s. 6d. 1814 \n\nCALMETS DICTIONARY OF THE BIBLE, WITH THE BIBLICAL FRAG \n\nMENTS, by the late Charle.s Taylor. 5 vols. 4to, Illustrated by 2fi2 Copper-plate En- \ngravings. Eiirhth greatly enlarged Edition, beautifully printed on fine wove paper (pub. at \n101. gilt cloth, 4^. Us. 6.ev. J.S. Memks, L.L.D. viz :\xe2\x80\x94 Watson\'s Apolo;fy for Christianity, Watson\'s \nApolofry for tlie Bible; Paley\'s Evidences of Christianity; Paley\'s Horie Pauliiine; Jenyn\'s \nInternal Evidence of the Christian Relittion; Leslie\'s Truth of Christianity Demonstrated; \nLeslie\'s Short and Easy Method with the Deists; Leslie\'s Short and Easy Method with the \nJews; Chandler\'s Plain Pieasons for being a Christian; Lyttleton on the Conversion of St. \nPaul; Cami)heirs Dissertation on Miracles; Sherlock\'s Trial of the Witnesses, with Sequel^i \nWest on the Resurrection. In 1 voL royal 8vo (pub. at 14j. ), cloth, 10\xc2\xbb. 184S \n\nCHRISTIAN TREASURY. Consisting of the following Expositions and Treatises, Edited by \nMemrs, viz: \xe2\x80\x94 Magee\'s Discourses and Dissertations on the ScriiJtural Doctrines of Atonement \nand Sacrifice; Wilherspoon\'s Practical Treatise on Kegeneration ; Boston\'s Crook in the Lot^ \n\n\n\nGuild\'s Moses Unveiled; Guild\'s Harmony of all the Prophets; Less\'s Authenticity, Un- \ncorrupted Preservation and Credibility of the New Testament; Stuarfs Letters on the \nDivinity of Christ. In 1 vol. royal 8vo (pub. at 12\xc2\xab. ), cloth, 8j. 1844 \n\nCRUDEN\'S CONCORDANCE TO TTHE OLD AND NEW TESTAMENT, revised \nand condensed by G. H. Hannay, thick l8mo, beautifully printed (pub. at 6a.), clotli, 3s. ,6(1. \' \n\n1844 \n\n"An extremely pretty and very cheap edition. It contains all that is useful in the original \n\xe2\x80\xa2work, omitting only prepositions, conjunctions, &c. which can never be made available for \npurposes of reference. Indeed it is all that the Scripture student can desire."\xe2\x80\x94 Guurrfian. \n\nFULLER\'S (REV. ANDREW) COMPLETE WORKS; with a Memoir of his Life, byhis \nSon, 1 large vol. imperial 8vo, New Edition, Portrait (pub. at U. 10*.), cloth, 11. 5i. 1845 \n\nGREGORY\'S (DR OLINTHUS) LETTERS ON THE EVIDENCES, DOCTRINES, \n\nAND DUTIES OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION, addressed to a Friend. Eighth Edition, \nwith many Additions and Corrections. Complete in 1 thick well-printed vol. leap. 8vo (pub. \nat 7j. 6f/.), cloth, 5\xc2\xbb. 1846 \n" We earnestly recommend this work to the attentive perusal of all cultivated minds. We \nare acquainted with no book in the circle of English Literature which is equally calculated to \ngive young persons just views of the evidence, the nature, and the importance of revealed \nreligion."\xe2\x80\x94 fto6ert Hall. \n\nGRAVES\'S (DEAN) LECTURES ON THE PENTATEUCH. 8vo, New Edition (pul?. \nat cloth, 9\xc2\xab. ISiS \n\nHALL\'S (BISHOP) ENTIRE WORKS, with an account of his Life and Sufferings. New \nEdition, with considerable Additions, a Translation of all the Latin Pieces, and a Glossary, \nIndices, and Notes, by the Rev. Peter Hall, 12 vols. 8vo, Portrait (pub. at 71. 4s.), cloth, 51. \n\nOxford, Talboys, 1837-39 \n\nHALL\'S (THE REV ROBERT) COMPLETE WORKS, with a Memoir of his Life, bjr \n\nDr. Olinthus Gregory, and Observations on his Character as a Preacher, by John Foster, \nAuthor of Essavs on Popular Ignorance, &C. 6 vols. 8vo, handsomely pr.nted, with beautiful \nPortrait (pub. at 3/. 16s.), cloth, contents lettered, U. llj. 6(i. \n\nThe same, printed in a smaller size, 6 vols. fcap. 8vo, M. \\s. cloth, lettered. \n\n"Whoever wishes to see the English lansuage in i\'-s perfection must read tlie writings of that \ngreat Divine, Robert Hall. He combines\' the beauties of Johnson, Addison, and Burke, \n\xe2\x96\xa0without their imperfections." \xe2\x80\x94 Dugald Stewart. \n\n" I cannot do better than refer the academic reader to the immortal works of Robert HalJ. \nFor moral grandeur, for Christian truth, and for sublimity, we may doubt whether they have \ntheir match in the sacred oratorj- of any age or country." \xe2\x80\x94 Prnfessor Sedgwick. \n\n" The name of Robert Hall will he placed by posterity among the best writers of the ag\xc2\xab, as \nwell as the most vigorous defenders of religious truth, and the brightest examples of Christian \ncharity." \xe2\x80\x94 Sir J. Mackintosh. \n\nHENRY\'S (MATTHEW) COMMENTARY ON THE BIBLE, by Bickersteth. In \n6 vols. 4to, New Edition, printed on fine paper (pub. at 9i. 9s.), cloth, 3^. 13\xc2\xab. dd. 1840 \n\nHILL\'S (REV. ROWLAND) MEMOIRS, by his Friend, the Rev. W. Jones, Edited, with \na Preface, by the Rev. James Sherman ( Rowland Hill\'s Successor as Minister of Surrey \nChapel). Second Edition, carefully revised, thick poet 8vo, fine Steel Portrait (pub. at 10s.) \ncloth, 5s. 1845 \n\nHOPKINS\'S (BISHOP) WHOLE WORKS, with a memoir of the Author, In I thick vol. \nroyal 8vo (pub. at I8s. ), cloth, 14s. The same, with a very extensive general Index of Texts \nand Subjects, 2 vols, royal 8vo (pub. at \\l. 4s.), cloth, 18s. 1841 \n"Bishop Hopkins\'s works form of themselves a sound body of divinity. He is clear, veba \' \nmeut, and ^exsm.&\\\\e."\xe2\x80\x94 Bickerttelk, \n\nHOWE\'S WORKS, with Life, by Calamy, 1 large vol. Imperial 8vo, Portrait (pub. at U. 16s.), \ncloth, 1/. los. 1838 \n" I have learned far more from John Howe t.han from any other author I ever read. There \nis an astonishing magnificence In his conceptions. He was unquestionably the greatest of the \npuritan divines."\xe2\x80\x94 A\'o(/er< Hall. \n\nHUNTINGDON\'S (COUNTESS OF) LIFE AND TIMES By a Member of the Houses \nof Shirley and Hastings. Sixth Thousand with a copious Index. 2 large vols. 8vo, Portraits \nof the Countess, Whitefield, and Wesley (pub. at \\l. is.), cloth, 14s. 1844 \n\nHUNTINGDON\'S (REV. W.) WORKS, Edited by his Son, 6 vols. 8vo, Portraits and Platei \n(pub. at 3<. 18s. 6d.), cloth, 21. 5s. \n\nLEiGHTON\'S (ARCHBISHOP) WHOLE WORKS; to which is pre nxed a life of the \nAuthor, by the Rev. N. T. Pearson. New Edition, 2 thick vols. 8vo, Portrait (psb. ot \\l. 4s.) \nextra cloth, lOs. The only complete Edition. 184\xc2\xbb \n\n\n\n24 \n\n\n\nCATALOGUE OF NEW BOOKS \n\n\n\nLEIGHTONS COMMENTARY ON PETER; with Life, by Peamoh, complete in l \nthick handsomely printed toI. 8vo, Portrait (pub. at 12*. )i cloth, 9*. 1849 \n\nLIVES OF THE ENGLISH SAINTS. By thu Ret. J. H. Newmak >nd others, 14 toIs. \n\nl^mo (pub. at 21. St.), sewed in ornamented covers, \\l. U. 1844-i \n\nM\'CRIE\'S LIFE OF JOHN KNOX, with Iltustratiom of the Hiatonr of the Reformation in \n\nScotland. New Edition with numerous Additions, and a Memoir, &c. by Andrew Chicutok. \nFcap. 8T0 (pub. at 5>.), cloth, 3$. 6d. 1847 \n\nMAGEE\'S (ARCHBISHOP) WORKS, comprising I^iscourses and Dissertations on the \n\nScriptural Doctrines of Atonement and Sacrifice ; Sermons, and Visitation Charges. With a \nMemoir of his Life, by the Rev. A. H. Kesnt, D.D. 2 vols. 8vo (pub. at 11. 63.), cloth, 18i. \n\n1842 \n\nDiscovers such deep research, jields so much valuable information, and affords so many \n^elps to the refutation of error, as to constitute the most valuable treasure of biblical learning, \nof which a Christian scholar can be possessed."\xe2\x80\x94 ( Arw/ian Obierver. \n\n*/IORE\'S (HANNAH) LIFE, by the Rev. Hexrt Thomson, post 8vo, printed uniformly \nwith her works. Portrait, and Wood Encrravings (pub. at 12j.), extra cloth, 6\xc2\xbb. Cadell, 1838 \n"This may be called the official edition of Hannah More\'s Life. It brings so much new an I \ninteresting matter into the field respecting her, that it will receive a hearty welcome from the \npublic. Among the rest, the particulars of most of her publications will reward the curiosity \nof literary readers." \xe2\x80\x94 Literary Gazette. \n\nMORES (HANNAH) SPIRIT OF PRAYER, fcap. 8to, Portrait (pub. ate*.), cloth, 4#. \n\nCadell, 1843 \n\nMORE\'S (HANNAH) STORIES FOR THE MIDDLE RANKS OF SOCIETY, \n\nand Tales for the Common People, 2 vols, post 8vo (pub. at I4j.), cloth, 9*. CaJell, 1830 \n\nMORE\'S (HANNAH) POETICAL WORKS, postsvo (pub.at8*.),cloili,3\xc2\xbb.6d. \n\nCadell, 1829 \n\nMORE\'S (HANNAH) MORAL SKETCHES OF PREVAILING OPINIONS AND \n\nMANNERS, Foreign and Domestic, witii P\xc2\xbbeflections on Prayer, post 8vo (puh. at 0*.), \ncloth, 4*. Cadell, 1830 \n\nMORE\'S (HANNAH) ESSAY ON THE CHARACTER AND PRACTICAL \n\nWRITINGS OF ST. PAUL, post 8vo (pub. at 10*. (id.), cloth, 5*. Cadell, 1837 \n\nMORE\'S (HANNAH) CHRISTIAN MORALS. Post 8 vo (pub. at 10*. M.), cloth, 5*. \n\nCadell, 1836 \n\nMORE S (HANNAH) PRACTICAL PIETY; Or, the Influence of the Religion of the \nHeart on the Conduct of the Life, 32mo. Portrait, cloth, 2*. r,d. 1850 \nThe only complete small edition. It was revised just before her death, and contains much \nImprovement, which is copyright. \n\nMORE\'S (HANNAH) SACRED DRAMAS, chiefly intended for Younr People, to which is \nadded "Sensiliility," an Kpistle, 32ni() (pul). at 2.i. 6t/. ), ?ilt cloth, gilt edges, 2*. 1830 \nThis is the last genuine edition, and contains some copyright editions, which are not in any \nother. \n\nISIORE\'S (HANNAH) SEARCH AFTER HAPPINESS; with Ballads, Tales, Hymns. \n\nand Epitaphs, 32mo (pub. at 2s. Od.), gilt cloth, gilt edges, 1*. Od. ISaO \n\nNEFF (FELIX) LIFE AND LETTERS CF, translated from the French of M. Bost, by \nM. A. Wyatt, fcap. Svo, Portrait (pub. at G*.), cloth, 3*. 6d. 184J \n\nPALEY\'S WORKS, in l vol. consisting of his Natural Theology, Moral and Political Philosophy, \nEvidences of Christianity, Hor?e PauHnne, Cleru\'yman\'s Companion in Visiting the Sick, &c. \nSvo, handsomely printed in double columns (pub. at 10*. 6rf.), cloth, 3*. 1849 \n\nPALEY\'S COMPLETE WORKS, with a Biographical Sketch of the Author, by Rey. D. S. \nWaylakd, 5 vols. Svo (pub. at 1/. 13*.), cloth, IK*. 1837 \n\nPASCAL\'S THOUGHTS ON RELIGION, and Adam\'s Private Thoughts on Religion. \n\nedited by the Rev. E. Bickerstftk, fcap. Svo ())ub. at 5*.), cloth, 3*. &d. 184; \n\nPICTORIAL DICTIONARY OF THE HOLY BIBLE, Or, a Crclopsdia of IllustraHons. \n\nGraphic, Historical, and Descriptive of the Sacred Writings, hv \'reference to the Manners, \nCustoms, Rites, Traditions, Antiquities, and Literature of Eastern Nations, 2 vols. 4to (up- \nwards of 1430 double column pages in good type), with upwards of looo illustrative Woodcuts \n(pub. 21. 10*.), extra cloth, U. 5*. 1846 \n\nSCOTTS (REV. THOMAS) COMMENTARY ON THE BIBLE, with the Author\'. \n\nlast Corrections and Improvements, and 84 beautiful Woodcut Illustrations and Maps. 3 vols \nImperial Svo (pub. at 4/. 4*.), cloth, 1/. 16*. 1859 \n\nSIMEON\'S WORKS, including liis Skeletons of Sermons and Horie HomlleticK, or Discotirses \ndigested into one continued Series, and formini; a Commentarv upon every Book of the Old \nand New Testament; to which are annexed an improved edition of Claude\'s Essav on the \nComposition of a Sermon, and verj- comprehensive Indexes, edited by the Rev Thomas \nHariwsll Hoake, 31 vols. 8vo \'imb. at lol. lOt.), cloth, 7L Jt. \n\n\n\nPUBLISHED OE SOLD BY H. G. BOHN. \n\n\n\n25 \n\n\n\nThe following miniature editioru of Simeon\' t popular workt art uniformly printed in 32mo, md \n\nboursti in ciotk : \nTHE CHRISTIAN\'S ARMOUR, M. \nTHE EXCELLENCY OF THE LITURGY, W. \nTHE OFFICES OF THE HOLY SPIRIT, 9d. \n\nHUMILIATION OF THE SON OF GOD: TWELVE SERMONS, M. \nAPPEAL TO MEN OF WISDOM AND CANDOUR, 9d. \nDISCOURSES ON BEHALF OF THE JEWS, U. Cd. \n\n"The works of Simeon, containing 2oJ6 discourses on the principal passages of the Old knd \nKew Testament will he found peculiarly adapted to assist the studies of the younger clergy ts \ntheir preparation for the pulpit; they will likewise serre as a Body of Divinity: and are by \nmany recommended as a Biblical Commentary, well adapted to be read in families.\'\'\xe2\x80\x94 ioumd#\xc2\xbb. \n\nSMYTHS (REV. DR.) EXPOSITION OF VARIOUS PASSAGES OF HOLY \n\nSCRIPTURE, adapted to the Use of Familiea, for everj\' Day throughout the Year, 3 vols. 8vo \n(pub. at 1/. lit. 6il. ), cloth, . 1836 \n\nTAYLORS (ISAAC OF ONGAR) NATURAL HISTORY OF ENTHUSIASM. \n\nTenth Edition, fcap. 8vo^ cloth, 5*. 184S \n\xc2\xab\' It is refreshing to us to meet with a work hearing, as this unquestionably does, the impress \ncf bold, powerful, and original thousht. Its most strikingly original views, however, never \ntransgress the bounds of pure Protestant orthodoxy, or violate the spirit of truth and sober- \nness ; and yet it discusses topics constituting the very root and basis of those furious polemics \nwhich have shaken repeatedly the whole intellectual and moral world."\xe2\x80\x94 /l. 1845 \nAn exceedingly cheap, elegant, and valuable work, necessary to every medical practitioner. \n\nBATEMAN AND WILLANS DELINEATIONS OF CUTANEOUS DISEASES. \n\n4to, containing 72 Plates, beautifully and very accurately coloured under the superintendence \nof an eminent Professional Gentleman (Dr. Car.swell), (i)uh. at 12/. 12*.), half bound mor. \nU. 5s. 1840 \n" Dr. Bateman\'s valuable work has done more to extend the knowledge of cutaneons diseases \nthan any other that has ever appeared."\xe2\x80\x94 /;r. A. T. Thonipson. \n\nBEHR\'S HAND-BOOK OF ANATOMY, by Birkett (Demonstrator at Guy\'s Hospital), \nthick 12mo, closely printed, cloth letteied (pub. at 1(H. CJ.), 3i. 6rf. 1846 \n\nBOSTOCKS (DR.) SYSTEM OF PHYSIOLOGY, comprising a Complete View of the \npresent state of the Science. 4th Edition, revised and corrected throughout, 8vo (900 pages), \n(pub. at U.), cloth, 8s. 1834 \n\nBURNS\'S PRINCIPLES OF MIDWIFERY, tenth and best edition, thick 8vo, cloth lettered, \n(pub. at 16s.), Of. \n\nCELSUS DE MEDICINA, Edited bv E. Mii.ligan, M.D. cum Indice coplosisslmo ex edit. \nTargae. Thick 8vo, Frontispiece (pub. at l(i\xc2\xab.), cloth, 9\xc2\xbb. 1831 \nThis is the very best edition of Celsus. It contains critical and medical notes, applicable to \nthe practice of this country , a parallel Table of ancient and modern Medical terms, synonymes, \nweights, measures, &c. aiid, indeed, everything which can be useful to the Medical Student; \ntogether with a singularly extensive Index. \n\nHOPE\'S MORBID ANATOMY, royal 8vo, with 48 highly finished coloured Plates, contain- \ning 250 accurate Delineations of Cases in ev<>Ty known \\ariety of Disease (pub. at 5/. 5*.), \ncl\xc2\xbbth, 3/. 3*. 1834 \n\nLAWRENCES LECTURES ON COMPARATIVE ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, \n\nZOOLOGY, AND THE NATURAL HISTORY OF MAN. New Edition, post 8vo, with a \nFrontiipiece of Portraits, engraved on Steel, and 12 Plates, cloth, as. \n\nLAWRENCE (W.) ON THE DISEASES OF THE EYE. Third Edition, revised and \nenlarged. 8vo (820 closely printed pages), (pub. at 1/. 4s.), cloth, 10\xc2\xab. Hd. liii \n\nLEY\'S (DR.) ESSAY ON THE CROUP, 8vo, 5 Plates (pub. at 13*.), cloth, 3s. 6d. 1833 \nLIFE OF SIR ASTLEY COOPER, interspersed with h-is Sketches of Distinguished Cha- \nracters, by Bransby Cooper. 2 vols. 8vo, witli fine Portrait, after Sir Thomas Lawrence \n{pub. at IL U.), cloth, lus. 6d. 1843 \n\nNEW LONDON SURGICAL POCKET-BOOK,, thick roy^i! ismo (pub. at 12\xc2\xbb.), hf. bd. 6 . \n\n1844 \n\n\n\n32 \n\n\n\nCATALOGUE OF NEW BOOKS. \n\n\n\nNEW LONDON CHEMICAL POCKET-BOOK; adapted to the Daily use of the Student. \n\nroyal 18mo, numerous Woodcuts (pub. at 7s. 6d.), hf. bd. it. 6ti. jg^J \n\nNEW LONDON MEDICAL POCKET-BOOK, including Pharmacy, Posologr. &e. roral \n18mo (pub. at 8j.), hf. bd. 34. 6d. li,44 \n\nPARIS\' (DR.), TREATISE ON DIET AND THE DIGESTIVE FUNCTIONS. \n\nStb edition (pub. 12^.), cloth, St. \n\nPLUMBE\'S PRACTICAL TREATISE ON THE DISEASE OF THE SKIN. \n\nFourth edition. Plates, thick 8vo (pub. at 11. It.), cloth, 6t. 6d. \n\nSINCLAIR\'S (SIR JOHN) CODE OF HEALTH AND LONGEVITY; Sixth Edition, \ncomplete in 1 thick vol. 8V0, Portrait (pub. at I/.), cloth, 7\xc2\xbb. IMl \n\nSOUTHS DESCRIPTION OF THE BONES, together with their several connexionf \nwith each other, and with the Muscles, specially adapted for Students in Anatomy, numerous \nWoodcuts, third edition, 12mo, cloth lettered (pub. at 7t.], 3i. 6d. 1837 \n\nSTEPHENSON\'S MEDICAL ZOOLOGY AND MINERALOGY; including also \xc2\xabd \naccount of the Animal and Mineral Poisons, 46 coloured Plate.s, royal \' mb. at 21. 24.), \ncloth, U. Is. 1838 \n\nTYRRELL ON THE DISEASES OF THE EYE, being a Practical Work on their Treat- \nment, Meilically, To])ically, and by Operation, by F. Tyrrell, Senior Surireon to the lloya] \nLondon Ophthalmic Hospital. 2 thick vols. 8vo," illustrated by 9 Plates, couuiniug upwards of \n60 finely colotued figures (pub. at 1/. 16s.), cloth, U. It. 1810 \n\nWOODVILLE\'S MEDICAL BOTANY. Third Edition, enlarged by Sur W. jACKSoit \n\nHooker. 5 vols. 4to, with 310 Plates, Engraved by Sowerbv, most carefully coloured (pub. \nat 101. lOs.), half bound morocco, 5^ 5s. The Fifth, or Supplementary Volume, entirely by Sir \nW. J. Hooker, to complete the old Editions. 4to, 36 coloured Plates (pub. at2f. I2s.6d.), \nboards, U. lit. 6d. 1S32 \n\n\n\nBRADLEY\'S GEOMETRY, PERSPECTIVE, AND PROJECTION, for the use of \n\nArtists. 8 Plates and numerous Woodcuts (pub. at 7s.), cloth, 5*. I8M \n\nEUCLID\'S SIX ELEMENTARY BOOKS, by Dr. Lardj-er, with an Explanatory Com- \nmentary, Geometrical Exercises, and a Treatise on Solid Geometry, 8to, Ninth Edition, \ncloth, 6s, \n\nEUCLID IN PARAGRAPHS: The Elements of Euclid, containing the first Six Books, and \nthe first Twentv 4r.e Propositions of the Eleventh Book, 12mo, with the Planes shaded, (pub. \nat 6s.], cloth, 3s. C(i. Camb. 1815 \n\nJAMIESON S MECHANICS FOR PRACTICAL MEN, including Treatises on the Com- \n\nposilion and Resolution of Forces; the Centre of Gravity; and the Mechanical Powers; illus- \ntrated bv Examples and Designs. Fourth Edition, greatly improved, 8vo (pub. at 15\xc2\xbb.), \ncloth, Ti.\'od. IS&O \n"A great m\xc2\xbb\xc2\xabhanical treasure."\xe2\x80\x94 i)r. BirkUck, \n\n\n\nBOOKS PRINTED UNIFORM WITH THE STANDARD LIBRARY. \n\ni.. JOYCE\'S SCIEI^IFIC DIALOGUES, enlarged by Piknock, for the Instruction an \nEntertainment or Young People. New and greatly improved and enlarged EdiUon, b \nWilliam Pikkock, completed to the present state of knowledge (Coo pages), numerous \nWoodcuts, 5s. \n\nSTURM\'S MORNING COMMUNINGS WITH GOD, or Devotional Meditations for \nevery Dav in the Year, 5s. 1847 \n\nCHILLINGWORTH S RELIGION OF PROTESTANTS. 500 pp.3\xc2\xbb.6d. \n\nGARY\'S TRANSLATION OF DANTE. 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