all human credence and all human action. The convictions of the reality of Nature, of the independence of Mind, and of the being and authorship of God, in spite of every effort of Philosophy to get rid of them, either by declaring them unthinkable, or by merging one in the other, always return as the final no less than the initial postulates of thought. Any scheme of the universe, therefore, which leaves any of them out, declares itself impotent, like the project of an edifice which makes no provision for the corner-stones. Innumerable such schemes have gone before, and floated as bubbles for a while, but the first touch of these Realities broke them into thin air.
What the relations of these grand primal factors of the problem of existence are, or how they are to be harmonized with each other, we do not know; perhaps we never shall know; but, I think we shall learn more and more of them, and, in due time, by the instrumentalities that are given us. We shall learn of Nature, and of Man, so far as he is a dependant and denizen of Nature, by that digesting of experience which is the peculiar work of science. We shall learn of Man, so far as he has a deeper spring of life than observation reaches, from its wellings-up into consciousness at those rare moments of insight which often seem so mysterious; and we shall learn of God through both; i. e., as he works with the stupendous forces of time and space, which symbolize him, and as he inspires our feeble loves and wisdoms, which are no less symbols of him, with an intenser sense of his own supernal love and wisdom.
But, we shall learn little of either if we haughtily and peremptorily dismiss any of the elements out of the inquiry. Neither Nature nor Man is to be understood without God, nor can God be apprehended by pure intuition alone, or, save as he writes his hieroglyphics in objects and events, or imparts new impulses of goodness to the innermost soul. Tyndall, doubtless, caught a glimpse of the inseparableness of these elements when he said, "The passage from facts to principles is called induction, which, in its highest form, is inspiration,"[1] nor was he free from the same overshadowing truth, when, speaking of the possible solution of the ultimate physical problem, he remarks that, when it comes, "it will be one more of spiritual insight than of observation."[2] For, if deity be, as it is sometimes said, the Spiritual Sun, the intellectual Light, he may evade scrutiny, as the common light evades vision. It is the condition of vision, "the light of all our seeing," in which all objects are seen, though itself unseen. Besides, we know that, even in the common light, there are rays which the physical eyes do not see, which the inward eyes of reason alone behold, but which, if the physical eyes could be made sensitive to their swift pulsations, might disclose, according to Tyndall's exquisite suggestion, a new heaven and a new earth, immediately around us, and "as far surpassing ours as ours surpasses that of the wallowing reptiles which once held possession of this planet."
Science must not deny the finer rays which she cannot see; she may remain indifferent to them if she pleases, and is, indeed, largely obliged to remain indifferent because of the very conditions under which she works; but, while delving in matter, there is no reason for getting suffocated by its gases, or stifled in its mud. For, in that event, the narrowness and dogmatism you impute to "the classes still called educated," to "the cultivators of sentimental literature," and to "college-bred people," would be most unquestionably hers; the opposition to freedom and progress of thought that you deplore would be hers; and she would lose at once that devotion to truth, whithersoever it may lead, which is now her proud boast. Indeed, as I observe the world, pretension and bigotry are not confined to the circles where you discover them; there are so-called men of science who partake the fault; and who set up their own little area of outlook for the sum of God's measureless world. There are those who, because they may have attended a course of lectures on mechanics, or compiled a treatise on heat, or performed a few simple experiments in chemistry, assume, not that wisdom will die with them,
