respect is still manifested for the Baconian method, the theory being defended by a spurious induction from a few monstrosities. And this view we are invited to entertain as a substitute for the doctrine of final causes ! *

But this is a digression; I return to the only other question in metaphysical science which it is necessary to consider here as a seeming exception to the doctrine, that this science is concerned exclusively with the relations of abstract ideas. I refer now to the discussion respecting the real existence of the external world, a question distinct in some respects from the one already noticed, respecting the abstract conception of material substance. And here a distinction is to be made between the popular belief and the philosophical doctrine, or rather between the causes that actually create our assent to the proposition, and the reasons by which, when subsequently called upon, we undertake to justify that assent. Certainly, to all minds not yet accustomed to philosophical inquiries, the existence of an external world is a fact, and as such is learned by induction. There can be no reasonable doubt, I think, that the sensations of an infant are not accompanied by what we call perception; that they are not referred by it to an external cause; that they give it no information at first respecting outward realities, but are to it merely so many sources of pleasure or pain. By a gradual process, that is, by induction, finding that the sensations recur in a fixed order under given circumstances, that they are wholly independent of the will, that muscular exertion can sometimes be made without restraint, and at others is checked or resisted by a foreign obstacle, the infant mind comes at last to a conception of outward things, or of existences foreign to itself.

Whether this induction is so complete that we can consider the independent existence of brute matter as proved by it is another question. It does prove that there must be some cause of these sensations, which cause is foreign to our own minds ;

* Schiller made the best criticism upon this theory, when it was first explained to him by Goethe, who was one of its earliest advocates, if not its inventor. "This," said Schiller, "is not an observation, but an idea."

and this is enough to disprove the monstrous idealism of Fichte, that we create every thing from ourselves, though the doctrine. of Berkeley remains quite as plausible as the vulgar belief, and rests, perhaps, on a more philosophical basis. Those who ridicule it, it is safe to say, do so from ignorance of its true character; and this remark will apply even to the great English moralist, who, when teased by his biographer about this doctrine, undertook to decide the case in his own peculiar manner. "I never

shall forget," says Boswell, "the alacrity with which Dr. Johnson answered, striking his foot with mighty force against a large stone, till he rebounded from it, I refute it thus."" The argument implied in this act proves nothing but the essential shallowness of Johnsonian dogmatism; for it is an appeal to facts, to sensible evidence, to settle an abstract philosophical question. As mooted by philosophers, this question refers to the objective validity of our abstract idea of outward things, and as such it must be settled, if at all, by metaphysical reasons; and he who brings into this discussion the testimony of the senses acts quite as absurdly as a metaphysician would do, who by his abstract speculations should undertake to confound a common man's belief in the reality of things about him. Here, as everywhere else, the physical fact rests upon its appropriate inductive evidence; while the philosophical question must be treated philosophically, or by metaphysical considerations. The speculative attempts, extended, modified, and perpetually recurring through the whole history of philosophy, to demonstrate the independent existence of matter, have left the question precisely where it was, — have created nothing but an interminable logomachy, or war of words, between the realists and the idealists. The result of this warfare was pithily summed up by Dr. Brown, when speaking of the two great champions in Scotland of the opposite doctrines on this subject: "Reid bawled out, We must believe in an external world,' but added in a whisper, I own we can give no reason for this belief'; Hume cried out, 'We cannot prove the existence of matter,' but he whispered, 'I confess we cannot help believing it.""

Enough has been said to show the true purpose of metaphysical philosophy, the nature of the subjects with which it is conversant, the kind of reasoning employed, and the proper limits of the discussion. Let us pass on, then, to a precisely similar inquiry respecting religion. What is the nature of religious belief, properly so called? and by what kind of testimony is it supported? Are we here concerned with realities, or with abstract speculations? and do we look to demonstration, or to moral certainty, as the result of the inquiry? The question is not yet, be it observed, whether the belief is legitimate, or the testimony sufficient; of that, hereafter. I do not now ask whether religion be true, but how we are to prove or to disprove it; what arguments are to be admitted into the discussion, and what considerations shut out as irrelevant. I use the word religion here in its most comprehensive sense, including both theology, as a system of doctrines and principles, and practical piety.

The central truth of religion, on which all its other doctrines and its practice depend, is the being of a God. Is there, in very truth, a creating and sustaining Deity, or is this universe an orphan, and we, most miserable, but accidental formations from the clod, living only to consume life, relying on no support but our own strength, and looking forward to painless extinction as the happiest possible termination of our short and troubled career? Surely, we are able to say that the Divine existence, if proved, is a fact, and the most momentous of all facts; it is at once the most consoling and the most awful of all realities. I do not forget that the name of the Supreme Being is often vaguely used; because it is said that his existence is a mystery, and his essence is unknown, for the finite creature cannot comprehend the Infinite. So neither can we comprehend ourselves; our own existence is a mystery, and we are surrounded with problems that we cannot solve. The lowest and the highest manifestation of life is alike a secret that baffles the most cunning researches of science; we can describe, meagrely and imperfectly, it is true, but we cannot explain it. If no knowledge is admissible, or deserves its name, except it be perfect, then indeed we are doomed

to hopeless and perpetual ignorance. In this respect the grand dogma of the being of a God is on a par with the simplest fact of physiology, or with a belief in the actual existence of any fellow-mortal whom we have never seen.

But I go much farther; considered as a truth of religion, the being of a God is a sufficiently definite and intelligible fact to enable us to pronounce at once on the general character of the evidence by which, if at all, it must be proved. If we discard all notion of an overruling Providence, and adopt only the Epicurean idea of the Supreme Being, as one sitting apart from his works, and allowing them to go on without interference, oversight, or regard, then indeed the question concerning the reality of such an existence is one of pure curiosity, to be ranked with other problems in science, as a matter of no immediate interest except to the student. We may sublimate that existence into an abstract conception, or identify it with material nature; and as either alternative is adopted, we may attempt to support it by physical or metaphysical reasoning. But the religious aspect of the subject compels us to bring down the question to the actual existence of a Moral Governor of the world. We care not whether the dogma, considered simply as a fact or a proposition in science, be established or refuted. Our only interest in the matter, looking at it, not as philosophers, nor as students of science, but as men, arises from the influence which the fact, if proved, will have upon our conduct and the regulation of our hearts and lives. The question does not affect us, unless it be understood to relate to the being of a personal God, the Creator of heaven and earth, really distinct from nature, though pervading it with his presence, all-wise and all-powerful, the conscious Cause and present Ruler of all things. I am not taking these attributes for granted, but simply stating the question, the only question which as moral beings we are concerned to answer. Whatever might be made of the philosophical conception of a Deity, or however curious and interesting to the merely rational mind might be the solution of the problem respecting the mode of his existence, or the reconcilement of his attributes with each other, it

does not affect us, considered simply as seekers after religious truth, or as endeavouring to satisfy the longings of that religious sentiment which, like the desire for society, or the domestic affections, or the inherent love of right, I firmly believe to be a constituent and ineradicable principle of human nature. The proper object of that sentiment is a person, a moral being; its natural and even irresistible expression is in worship and prayer. We must seek to gratify it, then, just as we might attempt, if suffering under a sense of loneliness, to appease our social cravings;-first, to ascertain the fact that a companion can be found, and then to draw near to him in that spirit of loving trust, and, if necessary, of self-sacrifice, which will be sure to make him, when found, our friend.

We cannot, then, demonstrate the existence of a God. If there is any force in the considerations which I have tried to lay before you, this admission is not an alarming one. We do not here attempt to weigh the abstract argument for this end, and pronounce it to be weak or insufficient; opinions might differ on this point; we put it aside altogether, as illogical and irrelevant. It has nothing to do with the matter in hand. We reject it for the same reason that an historian would reject, as an idle exercise of ingenuity, an attempt, made without any reference to the testimony of persons, books, or monuments, to prove from abstract conceptions and the laws of the human mind, that a great battle must have been fought nearly twenty-five hundred years ago on the plains of Marathon, and that the Grecian forces in this battle must have been commanded by a general called Miltiades. We say that metaphysical reasoning is inapplicable here, on the same principle on which the chemist, when about to investigate the affinities of a newly discovered substance, would refuse to substitute pure mathematical analysis for the logic of the crucible, the scales, and the blowpipe. He would say that the former mode of investigation was precluded by the nature of the case; and as the selection of the proper means of research is a question of pure logic, which is itself one of the metaphysical sci

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