ence of the First Cause of all. The term, therefore, must be taken in a more comprehensive sense, as signifying the same thing with what is called the synthetic mode of arguing, in which certain axioms or incontrovertible principles are laid down, and from these other truths more complex are deduced. The proof a posteriori, on the other hand, proceeds in the analytic method, beginning with the phenomena and advancing from them up to God, their Author or Origin.

Of these modes the latter seems to have been generally considered, of late, as not only the most useful, but best adapted to the purpose of philosophical conviction. The whole class of metaphysical arguments on this subject have fallen not a little into disrepute. It has been said, that they either assume some point which ought to be proved, or reason in a circle, or may be evaded or retorted. The censure cast upon them by the late Dr. Brown is, we think, somewhat extravagant, when he says, that instead of throwing additional light on the argument for a Creator of the universe, they have served only to throw on it a sort of darkness, by leading us to conceive that there must be some obscurity in truths, which would give occasion to reasoning so obscure.' This inference would scarcely be justifiable as a general principle; for obscure reasoning is not necessarily unsound, since it may be obscure only because it is founded on abstract considerations remote from common apprehensions, and the obscurity may consequently be relative, not absolute. That such modes of reasoning, however, are not, for the most part, so satisfactory even to philosophical minds, as the arguments a posteriori, is quite evident. An interesting anecdote to this effect is related of Dr. Clarke by one of his contemporaries. When Dr. Clarke,' says Whiston, 'brought me his book ("Discourses concerning the Being and Attributes of God"), I was in my garden against St. Peter's College in Cambridge, where I then lived. Now I perceived that in these sermons he had dealt a great deal in abstract and metaphysic reasonings. I therefore asked him how he ventured into such subtilties, which I never durst meddle with? And showing him a nettle or the like contemptible weed, in my garden, I told him "that weed contained better arguments for the being and attributes of God, than all his metaphysics." Clarke confessed it to be so, but alleged for himself, "that

Mr.

Its

since such philosophers as Hobbes and Spinoza had made use of these kind of subtilties against, he thought proper to show that the like way of reasoning might be made use of on the side of religion." Which reason or excuse I allowed not to be inconsiderable. As to myself, I confess I have long esteemed such kind of arguments as the most subtile, but the least satisfactory, of all others whatsoever.'* The argument for the being and attributes of God from the indications of design in the universe has the advantage of being at once popular, and strictly philosophical. foundation is laid in principles implanted in the very constitution of our nature; for it is impossible to see unquestionable marks of contrivance, and especially of systems of contrivances, without inferring the existence and agency of a designing mind. The inference may be exposed to certain cavils of verbal sophistry; but, it should be remembered, that these cavils must be addressed to the reasoning power in man, and that it is impossible to place more confidence in the results of that power, than we find ourselves irresistibly led to place in the process of mind, by which we pass at once from an effect, or series of effects, evincing wise purposes and well adjusted relations, to the belief in an Agent, by whom these phenomena were constituted and arranged. This remark may be applied to the objections made or insinuated against such a mode of reasoning by Hume, in the 'Dialogues on Natural Religion,' which can never perplex one whose mind is not already prepared by other influences to lean to the skeptical side of the question.

The almost innumerable facts in the constitution of the universe, on which the proof from design rests, have been so often and so beautifully stated and elucidated, that it would be superfluous, even if we had room, to go into the subject at length. What, in truth, is the study of the natural world and of man, but the study of skilful adaptations, and of wise and benevolent plans? What but the investigation of ends, and of means to accomplish these ends? Let us divest ourselves, as much as possible, of that habit of apathy and inattention, which long familiarity with the system of things around us has so strong a tendency to produce, and then mark the facts which our observation,

* Historical Memoir of the Life of Dr. S. Clarke, p. 6.

or that of others, reports to us. We find ourselves living in the midst of a universe, where nothing stands insulated or unconnected. From the planets, in their ceaseless and stupendous revolutions, to the smallest plant which hides its humble growth from all but the curious observer, the whole is a system of relations and adaptations. Between the light shed by the sun upon the family of worlds' around him, and the human eye, there is the most exact congruity and the most delicate fitness. The appurtenances, with which the various orders of animals are furnished, have the most curious and nicely adjusted respect to the element in which they subsist, to their mode of life, their defence, and their means of sustenance. The human frame is such a piece of wonderful mechanism, with such relations of parts to each other and to the condition in which we are placed, as to have employed in every age the study and the admiration of the being himself, who is thus fearfully and wonderfully made. If we should deem it madness to suppose that an exquisite statue, with all its delicate and beautiful proportions, could have become what it is without the designing mind of some Canova or Chantry, shall we dignify with the name of argument that absurdity, which would teach us that the living, moving, thinking man is the workmanship of no wisdom, the result of no intelligence? What has the hand of man constructed, which is comparable to the hand itself, that admirable instrument, which works with such facility and so variously, which brandishes a sword or manages a pen, strikes on the anvil with a hammer, or uses a delicate file, rows in the water or touches a lute.' In short, let any one take such a survey of the facts and laws of the universe, as is exhibited in many judicious and well-arranged works on natural theology, and then say whether he can refuse the conclusion, that he stands here as the spectator of a vast and astonishing system of machinery, in which the close and curious connexions, and the mutual subserviency of the parts bear a testimony, not to be mistaken, to a Designing Cause. In adopting this conclusion, he reasons on precisely the same irresistible principles of inference, as did the philosopher Aristippus when he was wrecked on a desolate island, where he knew not whether there were any inhabitants, and having seen, as he was walking on the shore, some regular mathematical figures

traced on the sand, immediately exclaimed to his companions, Take courage, my friends, for I perceive the marks of civilized men,'or as the poor Arab, who, on being asked how he knew there is a God, replied, 'In the same way as I know by the print of a footstep on the ground whether it were a man or beast that passed that way.' Let any one examine the construction of a well-built ship, prepared to traverse the ocean 'like a thing of life'; let him observe how skilfully her shape is adapted to the element, on which she floats and through which she is to make her progress, how the sails are suited to catch the breeze and may be shifted according to circumstances, how all the various ropes, notwithstanding their apparent confusion, are adjusted to perform certain offices, and to be used for definite purposes, let him remark the controlling and directing power of the helm, the accommodations for the reception of the cargo, and for the convenience of passengers, the provisions against accidents and perils, let him take such a survey, and then let it be proposed to him to account for the existence of this noble object without supposing it to be the effect of contrivance, the workmanship of an intelligent agent, the production of a mind, adapting the whole and the several parts of the structure to a certain purpose. would deem the proposal an insult to his understanding. Yet how feeble and inadequate is this illustration of the argument from design for the existence of the Supreme Mind! The truth is, that the universe in general is a system of references to a power beyond itself; through all its departments and degrees it points onward and upward to an İntelligence, and conveys suggestions to our minds in a strict and definite manner, like the words uttered in common speech, as Berkeley has shown in his admirable remarks on what he calls the language of vision.'* The first poet of our age, one whose exquisite moral taste has opened new worlds to imagination in the still depths of nature's significance, has an exceedingly beautiful turn of thought, which may be applied to this subject; having described a child listening to the murmuring sounds from the convolutions of a smooth-lipped shell,' he exclaims,

* Minute Philosopher, Dial. IV.

He

'Even such a Shell the Universe itself

Is to the ear of Faith; and there are times,
I doubt not, when to you it doth impart
Authentic tidings of invisible things.'

The attempts which have been made to account for the origin of things, and for the peculiar character of the phenomena of creation, without admitting the existence of an intelligent First Cause, have been such as to show very convincingly how much more credulous a man the atheist is, than he who believes in God. They have furnished subjects for much disputation, and much ingenious argument; but we think they will hardly be deemed worthy of very serious refutation by any reflecting or philosophical mind. When, for instance, we are told, in the spirit of some old hypotheses, that the order of nature with all its symmetry, its aptitudes, and its systematic arrangement, is the work of chance, the result of a fortuitous concourse of atoms (as the phrase is), we feel at once a disposition to ask, whether the solution be proposed seriously or in jest. Such a theory may be sufficiently met by an illustration, which has sometimes been used in the discussion of this topic. Let us suppose a triangular prism with three unequal sides, and a sheath exactly fitted to it, to be set in motion in the regions of space; suppose them to have the power of varying their motions and of flying up and down in all directions. The probability that they will never meet is as infinity to one; and if they should meet, the probability is in the same ratio that this would not take place just in that direction, in which the prism will enter its sheath;-not to mention, that chance is likewise burdened with the task of having originally prepared this adaptation between the prism and its receptacle. Now, if the theory of chance be wholly at fault in a single, and that comparatively so simple a case, how is it to be applied to the innumerable parts, the stupendous contrivances and changes of the whole system of nature? We deem it no slight honor to the genius of a great man, when he is able by a sort of prophetic eye to anticipate some of the laws or facts, which are afterwards brought to light in the economy of the universe. Descartes, in opposing the theory of the progressive motion of light, advanced the objection that, if this theory were correct, the celestial bodies would not be seen in their true places.