Besides, the study of science, which is the study of nature, engages the mind in the study and contemplation of truth; and, as has been well said, "Truth is without passion." The little asperities, therefore, which ruffle other controversial natures, find scarcely any lodgment in the breast of him who searches after experimental truth. And such would be the effect produced upon the students of theology and literature were their conclusions capable of verification like those of the scientist. But, dealing for the most part with abstract subjects which in the nature of things can not be subjected to rigid mathematical tests, they find themselves afloat upon a wide sea of conjecture, in which faith and imagination are almost the only guides.
At this triumphant entry and career of Science upon the stage of modern thought, Religion is the only power that has as yet sounded the note of alarm, or assumed any very hostile attitude. Nor could she well do otherwise, because, one by one, she has seen her adherents falling away from her, and joining the ranks of her ostensible adversary, and, one by one, she has seen some of the fairest portions of her territory invaded, and either falling a prey to anarchy and dissolution, or rudely wrested from her. In vain she has cried out for help, or tried to throw up barriers against this invasion. The sapping and mining process has nevertheless gone on; so that, if in the next half century the progress of science shall make as great inroads upon the prevailing popular belief as it has made within the last, it is safe to predict that only a moiety of it will be left, or, what is more probable, it will be changed into something more consonant with the new scientific discoveries, and with what is called "the spirit of the age."
If the changes thus following in the wake of physical discovery have been so marked and significant upon one of the interesting branches of human knowledge to which allusion has been made, how has it fared with the other, which, if not so widespread in its influences, can not nevertheless be affected in its character or career without producing results of the greatest consequence? Has literature as well as religion felt the wand of the mighty magician? and is it likely, in the future, to be retarded in its growth, crippled in its strength, or to any extent diverted from its purpose by this onward and sweeping march of science? These are questions of so much importance that the candid consideration of them can not be without its interest if not without its profit.
The commonwealth of literature embraces many states and distinct divisions, of which only those are particularly referred to in these pages that are usually comprehended under the title of polite or elegant literature, including works of the imagination, such as poetry and fiction, as well as authentic narratives, set off, as in history, with the graces of polished composition. Limited to even this description, literature has performed such an important part in administering to
