We have evidence, also, of the same identity in the laws of life, or

organic laws. In the anatomical structure of the earliest animals and

plants we find the same general type that pervades the present creation,

modified only, as it now is, to meet peculiar circumstances. This is true

not only of the osseous, but also of the muscular, circulatory, nervous,

lymphatic, and nutritive organs. Hence, as we might expect, we have

evidence of the prevalence of the same functional or physiological laws

then, as now. Respiration was performed, as it now is, and with the same

effects. Vegetable and animal food was then, as now, masticated, digested,

and assimilated; and since animals possessed the same senses, we infer

that their habits were essentially the same. There is not, indeed, any

evidence that ancient animals and plants exhibited any peculiarities of

structure or function, save those necessary to adapt them to the

circumstances, so unlike the present, in many respects, in which they

lived.

We are sure, also, that death has ever reigned over all organic nature. It

has always been produced by the same causes, and attended by the same

suffering. And its ravages were repaired by the same system of

reproduction as now exists. All this we might presume would be the case,

upon the discovery of an identity of laws, mechanical, chemical, and

organic; but we have direct evidence, also, in the countless remains of

animals and plants entombed in the rocks, more than twenty thousand

species of which have been disinterred by naturalists and described.

I might multiply facts almost without number to sustain the position, that

the same mixed system has ever prevailed upon the globe; for geology is

full of the details. But in a subsequent lecture, the subject will be more

amply discussed.

Such are the facts respecting the divine benevolence, as they are

presented in the volume of nature. Though benevolence decidedly

predominates, it is modified by other divine attributes, and ever has

been, since organic existence began upon the globe. Let us now, _in the

fourth place, see what inferences are fairly deducible from the whole

subject_. For those inferences, if I mistake not, will not only clear away

every cloud from the divine benevolence, but throw much light upon man's

condition.

In the first place, the subject shows us that the world is not in a state

of retribution.

As a general fact, virtue is to some extent rewarded, and vice to some

extent punished. But it is not always so. Indeed, the picture is sometimes

reversed apparently; and the good are afflicted because they do good, and

the wicked triumph because they do evil. Evil abounds, but it is not so

distributed as righteous retribution would award it; neither is good.

Since, therefore, God's justice must be infinitely perfect, there must be

some other object for the prevalence of good and evil in the world besides

righteous retribution.

Secondly. We learn from the subject that the world is in a fallen

condition.

I mean, that man has fallen from holiness and happiness. For the world is

evidently not such a world as infinite wisdom and benevolence would

prepare for a being perfectly holy and happy. Philosophize as we may, we

cannot discover any reason why the abode of such a being should be filled

with evils of almost every name--evils which the most consummate prudence

and the most elevated virtue cannot wholly avoid--evils which often come

upon the good man because he is eminent for holiness. But if man has

fallen from original holiness and happiness by transgression, we might

expect just such a world to be fitted up for his residence, because evil

is indissolubly linked to sin, perhaps in the very nature of things,

certainly by divine appointment. We know that it brings a curse upon every

thing with which it is connected; and here we see a reason for the blight

that has marred some of the fairest features of nature, and introduced

pain and suffering into the animal frame, and brought a cloud over man's

noble intellect, and hebetude over his moral powers. Such a fallen

condition will explain what no other supposition can, viz., the clouded,

fettered, and depressed condition of all organic nature.

Yet, thirdly. We should not infer that man's condition was hopeless, but

rather that mercy might be in store for him.

The very fact that the world is not in a state of retribution would seem

to afford hope that God had other purposes than punishment in allowing

evil to be introduced. And then the vast predominance of benevolence and

happiness around us cannot but inspire hope for the fallen.

This will be still more manifest if we infer, and can show, fourthly, that

the world is in a state of probation or trial.

By this I mean that men are placed in a condition for the trial and

discipline of their characters, in order to fit them for a higher state.

If fallen and depraved, they need to pass through such a discipline before

they can be prepared for that higher condition. And surely no one can

observe the scenes through which all pass, without being struck with their

eminent adaptedness to train man to virtue and holiness. Until we have

been pupils for a time in this school, we are not fit even for the

successive states in this life into which we pass; much less for a higher

condition. But there is a marvellous power in this discipline to prepare

us for both, as vast multitudes have testified while they lived and when

they died. Even death seems, so far as we can see, to be the only means by

which a sinful being can be delivered from his stains; and the dread of

this terrific evil is one of the most powerful restraints upon vice, and

stimulants to virtue. There is, in fact, no condition in which man is

placed, no good or evil that he meets, which is not eminently adapted, if

rightly improved, to discipline and strengthen his virtue. Hence we cannot

doubt that this is the grand object of the present arrangements of the

world. True, if misimproved, the same means become only a discipline in

vice. But this is only in conformity with a general principle of the

divine government, that the things which rightly used are highly

salutary, are proportionably injurious when perverted.

Fifthly. The subject shows us a reason why suffering and death prevailed

in this world long before man's existence.

God foresaw--I will not say foreordained, though he certainly permitted

it--that man would transgress; and, therefore, he made a world adapted to

a sinful fallen being, rather than to one pure and holy. If he had adapted

it to an unfallen being, and then changed it upon his apostasy, that

change must have amounted to a new creation. For, as I have endeavored to

show in a previous lecture, (Lecture III.,) the whole constitution of our

world, and even its relations to other worlds, must have been altered to

fit it for a being who had sinned. To have introduced such a one into a

world fitted up for the perfectly holy, would have been a curse instead of

a blessing. It was benevolence on the part of God to allow evil to abound

in a world which was to be the residence of a sinful creature; for the

discipline of such a state was the only chance of his being rescued from

the power of sin, and restored to the divine favor.

It may be thought, however, inconsistent with divine benevolence to place

the inferior, irrational animals in a condition of suffering because man

would transgress, and thus punish creatures incapable of sinning for his

transgression.

Animals do, indeed, suffer in such a world as ours; but not as a

punishment for their own or man's sin. The only question is, Do they

suffer so much that their existence is not a blessing? Surely experience

will decide, without inquiring as to their future existence, that their

enjoyments, as a general fact, vastly outweigh their sufferings; and hence

their existence indicates benevolence. It should also be recollected that

their natures are adapted to a world of sin and death, and they are

doubtless more happy here than they would be in a different condition,

which might be more favorable to unfallen accountable beings.

Finally. This subject harmonizes infinite and perfect benevolence in God

with the existence of evil on earth.

This is the grand problem of theology; and though I would not say that our

reasoning clears it of all difficulties, yet it does seem to me that, by

letting the light of this subject fall upon the question, we come nearer

to its solution than by viewing it in any other aspect. For this subject

shows us that benevolence decidedly predominates in all the arrangements

of the material universe, and then it assigns good reasons why this

benevolence is not unmixed; in other words, why severity is sometimes

mingled with goodness. It shows us that God, with a prospective view of

man's sin, adapted the world to a fallen being; making it, instead of a

place of unmingled happiness, a state of trial and discipline; not as a

full punishment, (for that is reserved to a future state,) but as an

essential means of delivering this immortal being from his ruin and

misery, and of fitting him for future and endless holiness and happiness.

Thus, instead of indicating indifference or malevolence in God, because he

introduced evil into the world, it is a striking evidence of his

benevolence. Such a plan is, in fact, the conjoint result of infinite

wisdom and benevolence for rescuing the miserable and the lost. Had God

placed such a being in a world adapted to one perfectly holy, his

sufferings would have been vastly greater, and his rescue hopeless.

Thus far do both reason and revelation conduct us in a plain path; and

that, probably, is as far as is necessary for all the purposes of

religion. Up to this point, infinite benevolence pours its radiance upon

the path, and we see good reasons for the evils incident to this life;

nay, we see that they are the result of that same benevolence which strews

the way with blessings; that, in fact, they are only necessary means of

the greatest blessings. I am aware that there is a question lying farther

back, in the outskirts of metaphysical theology, which still remains

unanswered, and probably never can be settled in this world, because some

of its elements are beyond our reach. The inquisitive mind asks why it was

necessary for infinite wisdom and power to introduce evil, or allow it to

be introduced, into any system of created things. Could not such natures

have been bestowed upon creatures, that good only might have been their

portion? A plausible answer is, that evil exists because it can ultimately

be made subservient of greater good, taking the whole universe into

account, than another system. Certainly to fallen man we have reason to

believe natural evils are the grand means of his highest good; and hence

we derive an argument for the same conclusion in respect to the whole

system of evil. Indeed, such are the divine attributes, that it is absurd

to suppose God would create any system which was not the best possible in

existing circumstances. But even though we cannot solve these questions in

their abstract form, and as applied to the whole creation, it is

sufficient for every practical purpose of religion if we can show, as we

have endeavored to do in this lecture, how the present system of the world

for a fallen being illustrates, instead of disproving, the divine

benevolence.

Here, then, is the resolution of some of the darkest enigmas of human

existence, which philosophy, unaided by revelation, has never solved. Here

we get hold of the thread that conducts us through the most crooked

labyrinths of life, and enables us to let into the deepest dungeons of

despondency and doubt, the light of hope and of heaven.

Here, too, we find the powerful glass by which we can pierce the clouds

that have so long obscured the full-orbed splendors of the divine

benevolence. To some, indeed,--and they sagacious philosophers,--that

cloud has seemed surcharged only with vengeance. And even to those who

have caught occasional glimpses of the noble orb behind, the cloud over

its face has always seemed to be tinged with some angry rays. Indeed, so

long as this is a sinful state, justice will not allow all the glories of

the divine goodness to be revealed. And yet, through the glass which

philosophy and faith have put into our hands, we can see that the disk is

a full-orbed circle, and that no spots mar and darken its clear surface.

How gloriously, then, when all those clouds shall have passed away, and

the last taint of evil shall have been blotted out by the final

conflagration, shall that sun, in the new heavens, send down its light and

heat upon the new earth, wherein dwelleth righteousness!

On the other hand, how sad the prospect which the analogies of this

subject open before him who misimproves his earthly probation, and goes

out of the world unprepared for a higher and purer state of existence! If

we can see reasons why on earth God should mingle goodness and severity in

this man's lot, we can also see reasons why the manifestations of

benevolence should all be withdrawn when he passes into a state of

retribution. For if an individual can resist the mighty influences for

good which the present state of discipline affords, and only become worse

under them all, his case is utterly hopeless, and Heaven can do no more,

consistently with the eternal principles of the divine government, to

save him. Infinite benevolence gives him over, and no longer holds back

the sword of retributive justice. Nay, the justice which inflicts the

punishment is only benevolence in another form. And this it is that makes

the infliction intolerable. How much more terrible to the wayward child

are the blows inflicted by a weeping, affectionate father, than if

received from an enemy! God is that affectionate Father; and he punishes

only because he loves the universe more than the individual; and he has

exhausted the stores of infinite mercy in vain to save him. Wicked men

sometimes tell us that they are not afraid to trust themselves in the

hands of infinite benevolence; whereas it is eminently this quality of the

divine character which, above all others, they have reason to fear. For

if, even in this world of probation and hope, God finds it necessary to

mingle so much severity with goodness, what but a cup of unmingled

bitterness shall be put into his hands who goes into eternity unrenewed

and unpardoned, and finds that even infinite benevolence has become his

eternal enemy!

LECTURE VIII.

UNITY OF THE DIVINE PLAN AND OPERATION IN ALL AGES OF THE WORLD'S HISTORY.

Contrivance, adaptation, and design are some of the most striking features

of the natural world. They are obvious throughout the whole range of

creation, in the minutest as well as in the most magnificent objects; in

the most complicated as well as in the most simple. So universally present

are they, that whenever we meet with any thing in nature which seems

imperfectly adapted to other objects, as the organ of an animal or plant,

which exhibits malformation, it excites general attention, and the mere

child need not be told that, in its want of adaptation to other objects,

it is an exception in the natural world.

In order to illustrate what I mean by contrivance, adaptation, and design,

let me refer to a familiar example--the human eye. Made up of three coats

and three humors, of solids and fluids, of nerves, blood-vessels, and

muscles, and rivalling the most perfect optical instrument, it must have

required the most consummate contrivance to give the requisite quantity

and position to parts so numerous and unlike, for producing the phenomena

of vision. Yet how perfectly it is done! How few, out of the hundreds of

millions of eyes of men and other animals, fail of vision through any

natural defect!

No less marvellous are the adaptations of the eye. In order to be adapted

to the wonderful effect which we call light, its coats and humors must be

transparent, and possess a certain density and opacity, that the rays may

form an image on the retina. Yet to prevent confusion in the image, the

transparency must be confined to the central parts of the eye, and a dark

plexus of veins and muscles must be so situated as to absorb the

scattering rays. In order to adapt the eye to different distances, and to

the greater or less intensity of the light, delicate muscles must be so

situated as to contract and dilate the pupil, and lengthen and shorten the

axis. That the eye might be directed to different objects, strong muscles

must be attached to its posterior surface; and that the eyelid might

defend it from injuries in front, a very peculiar muscle must give it

power to close. No less perfect is the adaptation of the eye to the

atmosphere, or, rather, there is a mutual adaptation; and it is as proper

to say that the atmosphere is adapted to the eye, as that the eye is

adapted to the atmosphere. In like manner, there is a striking relation

between the eye and the sun and other heavenly bodies, and between the eye

and day and night; so that we cannot doubt but they were made for one

another. We might, indeed, extend the relations of the eye to every object

in the universe; and the same may be said of every organ of plants and

animals. The adaptation between them is as wide as creation. And it is the

wonderful harmony between so many millions of objects that makes us feel

that infinite wisdom alone could have produced it.

The design of the multiplied contrivances and adaptations exhibited by the

eye is too obvious to need a formal statement. Comparatively few

understand the wonderful mechanism of the eye; but we should consider it

proof of idiotism, or insanity, for the weakest mind to doubt what is the

object of the eye. This is, to be sure, a striking example. But out of

the many organs of animals, how few are there of which we do not see the

design! And as the subject is more examined, the few excepted cases are

made still fewer. They are more numerous in plants, because we cannot so

well understand them, and because of their microscopic littleness. They

are so few, however, throughout all nature, that they never produce a

doubt that, for every individual thing in creation, there is a distinct

object. If we confine our views to the most simple parts of matter, we can

see design in them. If we take a wider view, and examine those minor

systems which are produced by the grouping of the elements of matter, we

shall see design there; and if we rise still higher in our examination,

and compare systems still more extensive, until we group all material

things, wise and beautiful design is still inscribed upon all. In fine,

creation is but a series of harmonies, wheel within wheel, in countless

variety, yet all forming one vast and perfect machine. Examine nature as

widely and as minutely as we may, we never find one part clashing with

another part; no laws, governing one portion of creation, different from

those governing the others. Amid nature's infinitely diversified

productions and operations we find but one original model or pattern. As

Dr. Paley finely expresses it, "We never get amongst such original or

totally different modes of existence as to indicate that we are come into

the province of a different Creator, or under the direction of a different

will." All appears to have been the work of one mighty mind, capable of

devising and creating the vast system so perfectly that every part shall

beautifully harmonize with every other part; a mind capable of holding in

its capacious grasp at once the entire system, and seeing the relation and

dependence of all its parts, from the minutest atom up to the mightiest

world. In short, the unity of design which pervades all creation is

perfect, more so than we witness in the most finished machine of human

construction; for

"In human works, though labored on with pain,

A thousand movements scarce one object gain;

In God's, one single can its end produce,

Yet serves to second too some other use."

Such are the wonderful contrivance, adaptation, and design which the

material world every where exhibits. But the geologist carries us back

through periods of immense antiquity, and digs out from the deep strata

evidences of other systems of organic life, which have flourished and

passed away; other economies, which have existed on the globe anterior to

the present. And how was it with these? Had they any relation to the

existing system? Were they governed by different laws, or are they all but

parts of one great and harmonious system, embracing the whole of the

earth's past duration? We could not decide these questions beforehand; but

geology brings to light unequivocal evidence that the latter supposition

is the true one; that is, in the language of the poet,--

"All are but parts of one stupendous whole,

Whose body nature is, and God the soul."

To present the evidence of this conclusion will be my object in this

lecture.

_In the first place, the laws of chemistry and crystallography,

electricity and magnetism, have ever been the same in all past conditions

of the earth._

Chemistry has attained to such a degree of perfection that the analyst

can now determine the composition of the various vegetable, animal, and

mineral substances which he meets, with an extreme degree of accuracy. In

many instances, he can do this in two ways. He can always separate the

elements which exist in a compound, and ascertain their relative quantity;

and this is called _analysis_. And sometimes he can take those elements

and cause them to unite, so as to form a particular compound; and this is

called _synthesis_. By these methods he has ascertained that, amid the

vast variety of substances in nature, there are only about sixty-four

which cannot be reduced to a more simple form, and are therefore called

_elements_, or simple substances. Now, the chemist finds that, when these

elements unite to form compounds, certain fixed laws are invariably

followed. They combine in definite quantities, which are always the same,

or some multiple of the same weight; so that each element has its peculiar

and invariable combining weight; and it cannot be made to combine in any

other proportion. You may mix two or more elements together in any

proportion, but it is only a certain definite quantity of each that will

combine, while the rest will remain in excess. Hence the same compound

substance, from whatever part of the world it comes, or under however

diverse circumstances produced, consists of the same ingredients in the

same proportion. These laws are followed with mathematical precision, and

we have reason to believe that the same compound substance, produced in

different parts of the world, never differs in its composition by the

smallest conceivable particle. Indeed, with the exception of the planetary

motions and crystallography, chemical combination is the most perfect

example of practical mathematics to be found in nature.

Such are the laws which the chemist finds invariably to regulate all the

changes that now take place in the constitution of bodies. What evidence

is there that the same laws have ever prevailed? In the rocks we have

chemical compounds, produced in all ages of the world's history, since

fire and water began to form solid masses. Now, these may be, and have

been, analyzed; and the same laws of definite proportion in the

ingredients, which now operate, are found to have controlled their

formation. The oldest granite and gneiss, which must have been the

earliest rocks produced, are just as invariable in their composition as

the most recent salt formed in the laboratory. And the same is true of the

silicates, the carbonates, the sulphates, the oxides, chlorides,

fluorides, and other compounds which constitute the rocks of different

ages. We never find any produced under the operation of different laws.

Now, the almost invariable opinion among chemists is, that the reason why

the elements unite thus definitely is, that they are in different

electrical states, and therefore attract one another. Hence the most

important laws of electricity have been coeval with those of chemistry;

indeed, they are identical; nor can we doubt, if such be the fact, that

every other electrical law has remained unchanged from the beginning. And

from the intimate connection, if not complete identity, between

electricity and magnetism, it is impossible to doubt that the laws which

regulate the latter are of equal antiquity with those of the former.

Indeed, we find evidence in all the rocks, especially those which are

prismatic and concretionary, of the active influence of galvanism and

electro-magnetism in their production.

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