and observation for his instrument of acquisition; the theologian has the human mind for his field, and consciousness for the instrument of his observation." This seems to me, I must confess, a very singular utterance. In the first place, why should the scientist be said to have an "instrument of acquisition" namely, observation, and theology only an instrument of observation? In what sense can consciousness be said to be an "instrument of observation"? And if it is an instrument at all, how is it that its use is confined to the theologians? No doubt the theologian requires consciousness in order to observe, but so, I fancy, does everybody else. These objections, however, tend only to show that Dr. Abbott has used some rather crude and ill-considered expressions; but when we pass to his dictum that natural science has to do only with external Nature, and not with the human mind—the latter falling within the exclusive domain of theology—a stronger protest becomes necessary. The word "natural" here prefixed to science seems almost as if it were intended to smooth the way for the acceptance of a larger doctrine than the writer cared to put expressly forward. What many would like to think is that science—human science—has nothing to do with mind. Dr. Abbott does not go as far as this: he only says "natural science," meaning, doubtless, in his own mind, physical science; but those who want to hold the wider proposition will either overlook the word "natural" altogether, or will interpret it as opposed to "spiritual." The real question is, Does science—such science as man can construct by the aid of his natural faculties—throw any light on mind? If it does, then we are not left entirely to theology to interpret mind for us. If it does not, and if theology does, then let us place ourselves in the hands of theology; for assuredly the subject is one on which we want all the light we can get. The real fact is, that science is pushing its researches into mind with no less vigor than into material things; and in the face of such works as those of Bain, Spencer, Maudsley, Taine, Wundt, and many others, it sounds very odd to find a well-known and able writer claiming the whole field for theology.
To proceed, however, the first restriction which the evolution philosophy is called upon to observe is expressed in the proposition that "we are the children of God." "We"—who? The whole human family, it must be presumed, from the highest types of European and American civilization to the most degraded savages that walk the earth. This, we are told, is more than a revealed doctrine; it is the verdict of "the universal consciousness." If so, why put in a caveat that evolution must not go counter to it? Surely, if the very consciousness of the evolutionists themselves, in common with that of the masses of mankind, bears witness to this doctrine, it might be regarded as reasonably secure against attack from any quarter. Yet evidently Dr. Abbott, in spite of the sweeping character of his affirmation, has doubts in regard to what the evolution philosophy may do or attempt
