minds. The man in whose heart burns no holy fire of aspiration may evince comparative indifference to the question of a future existence, inasmuch as, being dead at heart, he knows not what life is, and cannot conceive what it may become. Only those to whom the Spirit has revealed the "things which God hath prepared for them that love him" are capable of appreciating the boon of immortality. "If the religion of humanity," says Mr. J. S. Mill, in one of his posthumous essays, were as sedulously cultivated as the supernatural religions are (and there is no difficulty in conceiving that it might be much more so), all who had received the customary amount of moral cultivation would, up to the hour of death, live ideally in the life of those who are to follow them; and though, doubtless, they would often willingly survive, as individuals, for a much longer period than the present duration of life, it appears to me probable that, after a length of time, different in different persons, they would have had enough of existence, and would gladly lie down and take their eternal rest." In this way the "religion of humanity" would culminate in the destruction of humanity! for, not until the nature of man has been utterly paralyzed, will it admit the indifference, or even, to call it by a better name, the quietism, of the teleioi of the new religion. Any pretended culture that would have the effect anticipated would signalize its own insufficiency and perniciousness. If it has the effect of extinguishing the desire, naturally so strong, of self-continuation, what shall we think of the experiences through which it must first have conducted its votaries? Most certainly it has never taken them to the Mount of Transfiguration, and given them to witness such sights and sounds as prompted the ancient exclamation, "It is good for us to be here; let us make three tabernacles!" Those who have once drunk of the stream that flows from the throne of God, never think they have had enough of life; they cry

""Tis life of which our nerves are scant,
"Tis life more full and free we want;
No heart in which was healthful breath
Has ever truly longed for death."

Accordingly, it is not as a mere instinct of self-preservation that the desire of immortality appears, nor is that the form in which it is most powerful. There would be little to charm the soul in the prospect of an eternal monotony; such an existence we should deprecate rather than desire. Immortality is chiefly to be desired because of the opportunities which it will afford for endless progression-for ceaseless discovery and conquest. "The desire, therefore, is not of the same order as the instinct

which makes the lower creatures cling to life. If they shrink from death, it is from a desire to escape the pangs which precede it; but man shrinks from death chiefly because of the loss that may follow it. The desire of immortality, therefore, springs not from man's littleness, but from his greatness. This has to be borne in mind in considering whether there is a probability of a suitable provision for it. There are desires and desires; some that are whimsical and frivolous, and have no right to be satisfied; and others that are more authoritative, of which we can almost say, they ought to be satisfied. It is unjust to overlook this distinction, and argue that because some desires are not satisfied, therefore the desire of immortality will not be satisfied. Many a man," says Mr. Mill, "would like to be a Croesus or an Augustus Cæsar, but has his wishes gratified only to the moderate extent of a pound a week, or the secretaryship of his trade's union. There is therefore," he adds, no assurance whatever of a life after death on the ground of natural religion." This conclusion rests on the assumption that the noblest and most disinterested desires have no more authority than those which have their root in the most ridiculous vanity, or the most reckless ambition-an assumption which cannot be admitted until morality has been first cast overboard.

But it is vain to infer from any desire of ours, however noble, the likelihood of its realization, unless the Power on which we depend be amenable to moral considerations. On any other supposition,

"This fond desire,

This longing after immortality,"

can never be reasonably converted into a "pleasing hope."
"Thou wilt not leave us in the dust;

Thou madest man, he knows not why;
He thinks he was not made to die;
And Thou hast made him; Thou art just."

I close with a word on what may be called the Conservation of Energy Argument. Let us suppose that mind is destroyed in death-that the treasures of knowledge, gained by "scorning delights, and living laborious days," the aptitudes formed by patient self-culture, the moral power won in a life-long conflict with evil, are all lost for ever. What would thus be lost is certainly more precious than anything else we can conceive. Though the whole material world were destroyed, the loss would be nothing in comparison with the loss of the mind with its powers and acquisitions; and it would be less than nothing in comparison with the loss which would be involved in the

destruction of the minds of all men, in all parts, in all generations. Moreover, such a loss would be quite unparalleled by anything witnessed in the material universe. There nothing is lost; the quantity of matter and energy is the same to-day as on the day of creation. New combinations of matter, new transformations of energy are perpetually in process; but nothing is absolutely destroyed. Even the dead human body is not entirely lost; it refunds its original elements into nature's hands, for the elaboration of fresh forms of life and beauty. But the law of the Conservation of Energy is not satisfied simply by the scrupulously economical manner in which the human corpse is disposed of by nature. What becomes of the intelligence, the sympathy, the character of the man? Through the actions and utterances of his lifetime he may exercise a posthumous influence over unmeasured tracts of time and space. Thus the energy spent in the body is preserved, even after the body is dissolved. But what becomes of the man himself-from whom that energy emanated? He cannot bequeath to his heirs, or to posterity at large, his intellectual power or his moral character; in one word, his selfconsciousness. And the supposition that these forms of energy are utterly lost is forbidden by the analogy of nature. If that which is of less value-matter-is so carefully conserved, can we believe that what is of greater value-mind, is recklessly squandered? The physicists who declare that mind is but a transformation of physical energy, will have to complete their theory by showing how the potential energy of the habits, dispositions, and aptitudes of a man deceased is to be reconverted into such forces as electricity and magnetism. If the mental and moral energies of the man are not lost, in what form are they perpetuated? Such is their nature that they cannot exist at all except as the property of the individual to whom they originally belonged; in other words, unless he continue to exist, and to retain his personal identity.

“That each, who seems a separate whole,
Should move his rounds, and fusing all
The skirts of self again, should fall,

Remerging in the general whole.

"Is faith as vague as all unsweet?
Eternal form shall still divide

The eternal soul from all beside,

And I shall know him when we meet."

Apart, then, altogether from the testimony of Revelation, I conclude that there is, to say the least, good reason to believe in the doctrine of immortality.

A. M'N.-B.

88

SCIENCE AND RELIGION.

A Conversation on certain points of Religious Belief, as these are affected by some aspects of Modern Science.

Interlocutors.-REV. MR. PAULUS, JAMES, AND JOHN.

JOHN. You kindly invited us, Mr. Paulus, to come along some evening and have a little conversation with you on some points of religious belief, as these are affected by certain aspects of modern science. You are aware we have been of late very much interested in some of these inquiries, and have some little difficulties about them. We were therefore more than willing to take advantage of your kind invitation, and have called this evening. We trust we are not intruding upon more important studies.

PAULUS.-Oh! not in the least. Come in-very delighted to see you. Be seated, young gentlemen, and feel at home. I can assure you frankly, that nothing will give me greater pleasure than to have a little talk with you on these subjects, and to remove, if I can, any difficulties from your minds, especially difficulties that tend to weaken your faith in the divine origin of the sacred oracles.

JAMES. Mr. Paulus, it is certainly very kind of you to be troubled with us in this way. But we know that you have made these matters a subject of special study, and your reading is quite abreast of the times, so that you will be able at once to understand our whereabouts and the sources of our difficulty, as well as to point out the true road to truth. I am sorry to add, that several young men of our acquaintance have drifted from their old religious moorings, and have suffered shipwreck of their faith-we trust only temporarily through the confident pretentiousness of science, and its depreciation of the older faiths.

PAULUS.-Yes; that is to be deplored. Modern science is pretentious and depreciative of old religious beliefs,-on what ground we will by and bye have an opportunity of examining. When we come to that point I hope I shall be able to convince you that true science affords not the shred of an excuse for rejecting that faith which has been the solace and life of humanity down through the ages, and whose fundamental elements are rooted deep and indelible in human nature itself. The subject, you are aware, is wide, and perhaps it would be wise to confine our inquiries to some definite aspects of the question-some testing crucial points, so that we might really come face to face with the results and findings of modern scientific research, and see if the alleged antagonism between science and religion is real or only apparent.

JAMES.-We shall be happy to be guided in this matter by your own good sense. You have traversed the field of inquiry yourself, and know something of its area, so to speak, its roads, bye-paths, and difficulties, and you can introduce us into the subject any way you think best.

PAULUS.-Very good. Then, as it is always a good thing, in any inquiry, to start from a good foundation, we perhaps could not do better than have a little preliminary talk about what is called Natural Religion. I begin at this point because it is fundamental. If there is not such a thing as Natural Religion, then there is no basis or ground on which Revealed Religion can rest. The Scriptures, you will have noticed, in addressing man, always assume the existence of a Supreme Intelligence whose will ought to be our guide, and to whom we are responsible for our actions. It is that peculiar something in man, as man, that is addressed when God speaks to him, which we want to isolate for a little in thought, in order to see its constituent elements, its genesis, and its bearing upon the question of Revealed Religion.

JOHN.-Would you kindly define what you mean when you speak about Natural Religion? I confess the terms don't suggest to my mind anything very definite.

PAULUS.-By Natural Religion I Religion I mean that sense of apprehension by man, as man-without the aid of a verbal revelation of an Unseen Almighty Power, who manifests Himself in creation, who is entitled to his homage and worship, and to whom he feels himself responsible. This recognition of a supreme being may be beclouded, perverted, or distorted, as was generally the case among heathen nations: nevertheless, underneath all the grossness and superstition which gathered round the primary conception, there still existed the idea of a great First Cause, the source and origin of things seen. By natural religion, I mean what the apostle Paul referred to when he speaks of man without revelation as knowing by the things that are seen, even His eternal power and Godhead, so that they are without excuse. See Romans i, 20. It was to this natural religion that the apostle Paul appealed, when he addressed the philosophising Greeks at Athens, as something which they recognized, and upon which he based his reasoning.

JAMES. I understand now what you mean by the phrase natural religion. But allow me to ask: Are we entitled to assume that this recognition of a Supreme Intelligence, or of an unseen Almighty Power, is a universal feeling? Also, suppose we grant it to be universal, on what ground do we conclude that this universal feeling has an objective reality to correspond to