dently capable of attaining, when we prefer interest to the original gratifications; honor to interest; the pleasures of imagination to those of sense; the dictates of conscience to pleasure, interest, or reputation; the well-being of fellow-creatures to our own indulgences; in a word, when we pursue moral good and social happiness chiefly and for their own sake." In Hartley's own language, "theopathy, or piety, although the last result of the purified and exalted sentiments, may at length swallow up every other principle and absorb the whole man." These views are objectionable inasmuch as they imply that one reason, at least, why so few men are pious is, not owing to any depravity of heart, but because piety, or theopathy, is "in the order of our progress, the last of the virtues;" the "theopathic affection being naturally generated out of the preceding virtues." Antediluvian longevity must surely have afforded man time sufficient for attaining this last of the virtues; and yet then, if ever, impiety triumphed. Animadverting on these views of Hartley, as far as they relate to the nature and origin of piety, Dr. Wardlaw justly remarks,* "were not human nature in a fallen and apostate condition, a sense of God would enter the soul with the first dawn of reason. With the origin of piety, or with the means of its development, we have not now to do, but simply with the order of its manifestation. And, whether we regard man as fallen or unfallen, it is obvious that love to God could not enter the soul prior to the dawn of reason; that the emotions which it involves are subsequent in the order of time to the knowledge of Him from which they take their rise.

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7. Taking the individual man, it is evident that conscience presupposes will, for it is only with voluntary actions and desires that conscience has to do. The will, again, presupposes emotion, for this is ever exciting to volition. And hence, doing a thing for its beneficial consequence, presupposes the power doing it for its own sake, for how else would its consequence ever have been known? Obligation is antecedent to all calculation of consequences. Emotion supposes thought respecting the object which has led to the emotion. And thought points ultimately to some sensation from without as its occasion. In the order of nature, the objective precedes the subjective. And, regarding man in his practical relations, it will be found that his desires precede his dispositions, his inclination to appropriate, that is, precedes his readiness to distribute; that the proprietary

Christian Ethics, 403.

or possessory feeling is anterior to that sense of duty which prompts him to treat others as he expects to be treated by them. And even this sense of equity may exist as man now is, apart from every sentiment of piety towards God. We have seen, also, that external nature is the chronological antecedent to the mind-experience to reason. The argument â priori supposes an a posteriori postulate from which to start. So also Divine Revelation presupposes natural religion. Like the revealing telescope, it presupposes the eye which is to look through it. The truths which it discloses, however new, must harmonize with all pre-existing truth; and the evidence on which it claims to be believed, relies on man's capacity to weigh and appreciate it. For its reasonableness, it appeals to reason. 8. Looking at the introduction of the human dispensation itself, the fact ought not here to be omitted that the inorganic, the organic, and the sentient stages of creation, took the order of pre-existing nature. According to the inspired historian, the earliest creative arrangements related to an abyss of waters, and then to the formation of land. These were followed by the introduction of vegetable life grasses and trees. To this succeeded sentient existence, in the order of fishes, water-fowl and land-animals. Now, in all these respects, this is the order of Paleontology-the newly-named science, which treats of the beings that lived in the early ages of the world. Last of all, man, distinguished by a moral nature, was called into being. And, further, it is worthy of remark that an order corresponding with the order of nature in man's development, was observed in the primary provision made for his well-being. As a physical, organic, and sentient being, a place was first prepared for his reception, in which "grew every tree that is pleasant to the sight and good for food." Next, as an active and intelligent being, he was put "into the garden of Eden to dress and to keep it." His moral nature was next consulted in the prohibition which taught him that he was a subject of the Divine government. And thus the order of the great scheme of manifestation was in every way maintained. The Divine perfections appeared in the orderly procession of power, wisdom, goodness, and holiness.

This order" is a corroboration, so far, of the Mosaic account of the Creation; in which (it may be observed by the way) there are several points of coincidence with the results of modern scientific investigation, not a little remarkable if we are to view the narrative merely as traditional record of high antiquity." From an Article on the Vestiges in the "Westminster Review."

CHAPTER IX.

INFLUENCE.

1. THE law of influence may be thus expressed: "everything occupies a relation in the great system of means, and possesses a right in relation to everything else, according to its power of subserving the end; or, everything brings in it, and with it, in its own capability of subserving the end, a reason why all other things should be influenced by it, a reason for the degree in which they should be influenced, and for the degree in which it, in its turn, should be influenced by everything else." For if every created thing necessarily expresses some property of the Divine Nature, if it possesses that resemblance on the condition of manifesting it in subserviency to the great end, and is placed in a system of relations in order that it might be able to make the manifestation, then everything will sustain an active and a passive relation, or will have a right to influence everything of inferior, and a susceptibility of being influenced by everything of superior, subserviency to the great end of the Divine manifestation.

2. In the pre-existing kingdoms of nature, this law universally prevails. The forces of inorganic nature are found to be ranged according to their activity and energy, or their capability of producing changes; while the most powerful are themselves susceptible of change. In the midst of this incessant play of physical forces, a new force appears; vegetable life, in an organized form, exercising the wonderful power of influencing chemical action, and of thus preparing its own food, and securing its own growth. A higher order of existence next appears in the form of sentient being, and draws its support, directly or indirectly, from vegetable life. Looking up the scale of creation, the highest order of being at any par ticular time existing is to be regarded as the relative end of all the orders below it. This is its prerogative by right of the superior power which it possesses of answering the great end of creation. Thus, the sentient kingdom, besides illustrating the Divine power and wisdom in common with the inorganic and the vegetable creations, displays the perfection of goodness in addition. But now a being superior to any mere sentient nature has come. Looking up the scale of creation, we behold

its summit occupied by one capable of manifesting, not one or two perfections merely, but the very image of God. How great may we not expect to find his influence!

3. On inspecting his constitution, the first remarkable characteristic which arrests our attention is, that he has power over himself. His superiority of constitution is not produced by leaving out of his nature all pre-existing elements - by the creation of a being utterly new. He is a compendium of all that preceded him-physical, organic, and animal. And over this condensed form of the kingdoms of nature lodged in his own constitution, he is called to reign. To this end he is endowed with the mysterious power of observing himself, of analyzing his own nature, ascertaining its component parts, measuring the comparative strength of each, and of knowing and determining how to apply them.

4. He is endowed with that mighty spiritual force, a free will. In the exercise of this regal power, he can command away the allurements of sense, hold in abeyance the lower propensities, and despise weariness, suffering, and death. He has the faculty of attention; and by virtue of his will he can fix his eye on what object he pleases in the procession of his thoughts, and can dwell on it until it has shed a hue and an influence over his whole mind. He is capable of belief; but whether or not he will attend to the probable evidence on which his belief of a moral truth should repose, is referred to his will. He has come to be the centre of this earthly system; and, if he will, he can reproduce parts of its plan in his own mind; appropriate and revolve Divine thoughts; and thus intellectually sympathize with the Infinite mind. As a being of imagination, he can regale himself with the creations of ideal excellence, and excite himself to energy and daring by motives drawn from the invisible and the unknown. If he will, he can mentally call for objects which shall make his whole nature flame with emotion. While a sense of duty can add strength even to his will, and give to it the power of an elemental force.

5. And the longer he lives, the greater his self-regulating power may become. In his efforts at self-development he discloses a spiritual energy unknown to all material nature, and which every effort tends to augment. The result is, a distinctive character. To this character everything henceforth ministers and adds consolidation. Works refresh and reinforce it. Memory selects for it congenial facts. Imagination surrounds it with a congenial atmosphere. Conscience clothes it with sacredness.

Habit gives to it the stability and determination of a natural law. The man stands in awe of himself; looks into the dim future, and wonders to what mighty stature his nature will grow. That he is a cause, a distinct power, he feels, for every act of selfcontrol demonstrates it. That he is a person, a moral agent, having ends of his own to accomplish, he is deeply conscious, for he feels that they are ever in progress. But where is the goal? He can lay plans for eternity. His nature asks a boundless future in which to expand; and often will his far-reaching hope flash around that distant and unlimited horizon, and show him, as by momentary coruscations, the indefinite vastness of the realms which expect him.

6. Such is the constitution of the being who came to take his place at the head of the creation. In recognition of his right, and in order to the development of his powers, the kingdoms of nature were at once given into his hands. He was made for the sovereignty. He could not, indeed, change the laws of nature; but he could discover, combine, and arm himself with their powers. They were all ready to co-operate with him. He could not divest the objects of nature of their relative rights; but they were all ready to adjust and subordinate themselves to his superior right. By cultivation, he gave flavor to the fruit, and a new perfume to the flower. By domestication, he trained the noblest animals to his service, and yoked them to his car. The law had gone forth, "the fear of you and the dread of you shall be upon every beast of the earth;" and everywhere the law took effect. Gradually he placed himself in actual relation to all things around him. He conformed himself to them, only that he might bend them to his own purpose.

He is a moral being, an individual, complete in himself, and cannot allow himself to be absorbed in the undefined generality of nature. His constitution forbids it. His every voluntary act is an assertion of his individuality. It is this idea of his individuality which is ever present to his own mind as the spring of his activity. It is this which places him in friendly opposition to everything which is not himself, with an effort to attach it to himself, and to conform it to himself. It is this which places him in hostile antagonism to every obstacle which impedes the proper assertion of his will, and renders him restless till it is subdued. He is not satisfied with being himself conscious of his own individuality. Nature must record it. He must have it acknowledged, a thing settled. This high prerogative of his must be imprinted on, and reflected from,