nature. They are recorded as in secret cipher on its invisible atoms. They breathe in the air. They distil in the dew. They are graven in the rock for ever.

*

It is beyond the design of this work to enter into detailed illustrations of the several branches of the argument that has now been sketched. But there are two familiar examples of exquisite adaptation, subserving the most important purposes of human life, which may be briefly adverted to, those afforded by the structure of the human eye and ear. One of the most remarkable characteristics of the former is the power which it possesses of adapting itself to the distance of the objects to which it is directed, and which the mind wishes to perceive. It has been properly said, that nothing like this self-adaptive power is possessed by any handiwork of man. Indeed, the structure of the eye, so complex and beautiful, evinces throughout a wisdom which can only belong to an infinite mind. So, too, the human ear has been formed for the nicest discrimination of sound, so that as we listen to the conversation and discourse of others, we can not only apprehend their meaning, but can perceive from their tones, to some extent, the emotions which actuate them.

Everywhere, indeed, throughout nature, we meet with manifest proofs of design. But design implies a designer. 'Purpose,' it has been properly said, 'is the autograph of mind'; and thus, as we survey the arrangements of nature, we are led upward in reverent thought to HIM who has formed the whole, and whose living, ever-active agency sustains it and carries on its processes.

*Lecture IV. pp. 150, 159, 160.

CHAPTER IV.

THE EXISTENCE OF GOD-THE ARGUMENT FROM THE MORAL NATURE OF MAN.

IN the preceding Chapter we have dwelt on the evidence of the existence of God afforded by the arrangements of external nature, since these indicate the action of a designing Mind. But it becomes us also to look within,-to reflect on the constitution and working of our own minds. It would, we conceive, be perfectly legitimate to found an argument on the lofty intellectual powers of the human mind; for the only consistent view is that which refers them to Him who is the Fountain of life, intelligence, and energy. But the argument which we now wish to urge is that founded on the moral nature of man.

There is, we maintain, a principle in the human breast, antecedently to the special influences of training and education, which recognises the reality of the distinctions of right and wrong. This principle, which we designate conscience, enforces also our obligation to do that which is right and to avoid that which is wrong. There is the conviction of duty; and if we deliberately neglect or violate duty,-unless conscience has been blunted and depraved by repeated acts of resistance to its dictates, there is a feeling of self-condemnation, while if we do that which is right, especially at the sacrifice of personal ease or advantage, we have a feeling of moral satisfaction and approval.

Now we do not affirm, that conscience, independently of all instruction from without, is capable of tracing out with accuracy the whole system of duty. To do this, it needs to be enlightened and trained by revelation: but it does recognise

that right and wrong are realities; it does affirm that we ought to do certain things, and that we ought to abstain from others. And that feeling of satisfaction which is connected with rightdoing, and the feeling of self-reproach which follows the wilful and glaring violation of right, stand connected, more or less distinctly, with the consciousness of responsibility,—responsibility to a Higher Power.

on

In confirmation of these sentiments, we may quote the following remarks of Professor Wace, in his Bampton Lectures 'The Foundations of Faith.' Speaking of the action of conscience, he says, 'It is not simply that certain things are recognised as right, and certain other things as wrong. It is not even the paramount conviction that to do the right and to refuse the wrong is the duty and the highest honour of man. It is not, in fact, simply a sense of duty which is aroused by the voice of the conscience. It is a sense and a conviction that there exists a sanction for that duty, and that a violation of it will be surely avenged. . . . This is not simply a vision of moral beauty, a conviction of the supreme claim of morality upon our reason and our allegiance. It is this, no doubt; but it is much more. It is a conviction that in ourselves and in others this claim will be enforced. We feel that it will be enforced, moreover, in the way of judgment, and not merely in that of natural consequences. The warning of conscience is thus something distinct in kind from the conviction that fire will burn if we put our hands into it, or that if we disregard the law of gravitation we shall suffer for it. In those cases the consequence is visible and immediate; but it is the characteristic of conscience to warn a man of a future judgment even when he escapes all visible penalty. The conviction it enforces is not merely that certain consequences will follow our evil deeds, but that we deserve certain penalties, and that we must expect them to be inflicted because we deserve them. It is a conviction, in other words, that we are responsible, and that we shall be held to our responsibility.'*

* Lecture II., pp. 35-37.

Thus the existence of conscience indicates that we are living under a system of moral government, the leading feature of which is retribution. But if this is so, if there is a moral system on which this world is governed, we are naturally led to think of ONE who presides over it, who loves the right and will enforce its claims. The human conscience points to GOD, as the Sovereign and Judge to whom we are responsible, and who will uphold the interests of righteousness and truth.

In the arguments that have been alleged for the existence of God, we have not attempted to trace out the glorious perfections which are essential to His nature. Some of them have been incidentally alluded to; but, as we shall hereafter see, the clear and full development of them is supplied only by revelation. It is to this we are indebted for those views of God which are of the deepest interest to us, as bringing Him near to us in our daily life, and as opening to us access to Him under all our conflicts and sorrows; and it is this which relieves, to a large extent, the dark shadows which the mystery of evil has cast over our world. But the inquiries in which we have engaged have led us to the conclusion that there is a self-existing Being, the Author and Sustainer of universal nature, and the Moral Ruler of the world, possessed of infinite power and wisdom, and distinguished also by the love of righteousness and by hatred to that which is wrong.

To this adorable Being our hearts should turn with reverence and submission; and, it is our privilege to add, with trust also and love. Passing, for a moment, beyond the bounds of Natural Theology, and anticipating some of the disclosures of revelation, we may conclude this Chapter with the eloquent appeal of Canon Liddon :-Nothing among created things that can engage and stimulate thought, nothing that can expand and warm affection, nothing that can invigorate will and purpose, ought, in the judgment of any thinking human being, to compete with the Eternal God. Our reasonable duty towards God is "to believe in Him, to fear Him, and to love Him, with all the heart, with all the mind, with all the soul, and with all

the strength." What, then, is He, our God, to us? Do we thirst for God? As the days, and months, and years pass, do we ever look out of and beyond ourselves upon that vast ocean of uncreated life which encircles us, which penetrates our inmost selves? Do we ever think steadily, so as to dwell with a real intellectual interest upon Him who is the first and highest of truths, to whose free bounty we ourselves owe the gift of existence, and to Whom we must one day account for our use of it? Do we ever sincerely desire to love Him and to live for Him? Or are we constantly hurrying along our solitary path from one vanishing shape towards another, while we neglect the Alone Unchangeable? Be sure that, if we will, in God revealed in Christ the soul may slake the thirst of the ages; and the dreariest, and darkest, and most restless existence may find illumination and peace. "This God is our God for ever and ever: He will be our guide unto death and beyond it.” . . . Without this Awful and Blessed Being man has no adequate object, even during these days of his brief earthly existence; his thought, his affection, his purpose spring up and are exercised only that they may presently waste and die. With God the human soul not merely interprets the secrets of the universe; it comprehends, and is at peace with, itself. For God is the satisfaction of its thirst; He is the Object of religion.'*

* 'Some Elements of Religion,' Lecture II., pp. 79, 80.