with healthy muscle when a torn limb is vigorous; but they are brought to their places, directly or indirectly, by the principle of life itself, and deposited there after its own pattern, whether bestial or human. The brain is the prime receptacle of this power in the body; for the original tracings of the whole form were there before its parts were developed, and it is but to develop them again. The brain, therefore, is the proximate cause of its own order in the body, but the brain itself proceeded from, and was "curiously wrought," by that very living principle of which it is now the primum mobile. It is, indeed, possible that some unsuspected medulla or some secret gland may be the first gate of life into the universal brain; but the healing power is in the life itself, and life is not a property of matter however sublimated and organized. The Scriptures say, "The Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life," 1 and though the literal truth of the first chapters of Genesis cannot be sustained, He who "gave the Word" must have intended that even its symbolism should teach us something. May we not, therefore, say that this passage teaches by a vivid image that the life of the body does not proceed from its own substance, and that a material form made even by God Himself could not live by its own atomic powers; but only from the breath of His mouth, "in whom we live and move and have our being?" To have "life in Himself" is to be God, and therefore a substance having life in itself cannot be created without supposing the creation of another God, which is philosophically and Divinely impossible; for Jehovah says: "Before me was no God formed, neither shall there be after me."? Although then the Scriptures say little about our bodily life, they say enough to teach us that our organization is not the cause of it; but is only a receptacle wonderfully formed to exercise its powers, while as to the manner in which the powers and the instruments are united in action, Locke has well said, that when we know how we raise our hand, we may have some idea of the mode of action of that awful power which keeps the universe in motion. Again a new thought irresistibly claims some attention. It is said that all the forms and powers which exist in the outer world of Nature, exist also in the human body, and hence the Ancients called the one the macrocosm3 and the other the microcosm.4 Is this literally true? One can more easily admit that there are correlatives of the great 1 Gen. ii. 7. 3 The great world. 2 Isa. xliii. 10. 4 The little world. powers of universal Nature in the human frame than that their forces are in any case identical; but if they are identical then we naturally think first of those powers in Nature which are most like what we conceive of spirit as Magnetism and Electricity. Can magnetism be the steady uncontrollable power of the cerebellum and electricity the more docile power of the cerebrum? We need not consider whether both are not different phases of the same power, as some contend, because that does not affect the argument or rather the suggestion. Except in the single instance of the mariner's compass, man seems able to make but little use of magnetism; but electricity is harnessed to the chariot wheels of science, and flashes human intelligence from pole to pole at a minimum speed of twelve times round the globe in a second,―a stupendous flight far exceeding even the velocity of light. Can this be a material agent? Is it conceivable that matter can fly, as some say, two hundred and eighty-eight thousand miles in a second? Can a substance capable of such motion, and which has neither length, breadth, nor thickness, be classed with granite, under the general name of "matter"? Does it not rather belong to one of those higher planes of being which we have supposed may exist? Day after day, and night after night, I tried in vain to answer my own questions on this mysterious subject, and at last applied to a scientific friend for assistance, and he replied: "We may say without controversy that as love and wisdom, light and heat, are inseparable twains, yet dis-cernible in thought, so magnetism and electricity are another twain, generally if not always co-existent, if not co-operative, and yet capable of scientific distinction. The functions of electricity are as numerous as the varied processes of creative construction in the material universe. Electricity seems to be the very finger-tip of the Divine hand, the vis formativa1 of all nature. In the disposition of molecules in the phenomena of crystallization, electricity is found to be the builder and arranger of their distinctive forms. In the growth of plants particle by particle is first compounded, and then conducted and deposited and superimposed upon a previous one by the formative agency of this unresting minister of the Divine Intelligence." I am not. aware that any of these effects involve the agency of magnetism. There is little, perhaps nothing, in magnetism analogous to the phenomena of electricity when exerted mechanically;" nor is that necessary, since the redintegration and re-ordering of the brain takes place, during sleep, when we are not conscious, and no part of it is under the direction 1 Formative force. of our volition. The whole brain may then act consentaneously as the organ of a fuller measure of general animation; while the constructive powers of electricity, as the servant of life, may renew the cerebrum; and here we leave our unbidden thought as a tentative suggestion for those whose leisure and genius favour such investigations. One thing only is certain. Whatever name we may give to that power which is in us "the finger-tip of the Divine hand," and whatever scientific light may be thrown upon it, such light alone will always lack that element of tender affection for which the broken in spirit in their deepest sorrows yearn with a longing which cannot be uttered. Mere knowledge, then, seems to be like “sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal." They want, not molecular motion, nor local velocity, nor force in any form, but love; love which is sentient life; love stronger than death; and happily they know where to find it. If none (who seek Him) can by searching find out God, how can they find Him out who search through all Nature only to exclude Him? This is the insanity of that science which worships the agencies by which the unsearchable gives them life and health and every blessing, and refuses to consider with reverence any indication of that mighty Hand which provides suitable instrumentalities for every work; which fills everything with conscious or unconscious life; and provides, in matter, a passive firmament for the rebound of every force; which restores the equilibrium of the atmosphere by its lightnings; chastises oceans with its storms; makes the earth quake and subside again upon its intestine fires, and soothes the worn spirit of the sleeper with the tenderest ministrations of restoring love. Though material science gives us nothing to love, we do love nevertheless, and the moment we accept surely the true philosophy, that love can only spring from love, and that "we love Him because He first loved us," the very essence of phenomena is changed. Then we see that "all are His servants," and that the inflexible laws of matter itself (whatever that may be) are but the certainties of His providential care. The schools of science have not taught us that the power of reciprocation is of the essence of love, and that the very existence of love in us is a proof that there is another who may love us. Who can love the vis formativa? But the Former and Maker Himself, the Source and Giver of conscious life, may well be the supreme object of our love, and His best blessing the gift to each of us of beings like our11 John iv. 19. selves, who may love us and whom we may love. Let malapert science then cease to babble contemptuous severities against us who talk of spirit, as though she knew what that matter is of which she talks so much; and what that life is of which she makes such treasonable use; but let true science teach us to use wisely the real knowledge we have, and to hear Him who said "Without Me ye can do nothing." In this state the more we know of the unending adaptations of nature the more reverently and supremely shall we worship Him who is "All in all," and of whom alone it can be absolutely said "Power belongeth unto God."2 Escaped at length from the dim realm of natural science, though, like Israel out of Egypt, not without some spoil, we walk once more in the serener air of meditative induction. If then all power "belongeth unto God," and He is the first source of conscious emotion, may we not allowably indulge in those yearnings for sympathy and loving help which only infernals can despise, and find even the simplest aspirations and the most child-like faith not unworthy of immortal beings whose immortality would be an endless misery without them? It is true that our emotional nature cannot be satisfied without the object of our love is a living, conscious person. Philosophers (?) ridicule the anthropomorphic tendency of the loving worship of God, and the affectionate sympathy we claim with spiritual beings; but there is no other form besides the human form with which we can associate human affection and rational thought, wisdom and love; and some form is essential to our reciprocation of their powers and emotions. God has joined together those powers, and that form in every mind which has not outraged nature by material conceit, and we may safely believe their union indissoluble until the contrary is proved. All this may seem abstruse and uninteresting; but, in fact, the communion of heaven and earth depends upon it, and happiness, which is the very end of creation, is consummate only when wisdom and love are pure and reciprocation is perfect. Besides these lofty considerations, our affectional philosophy lets in all the endearments of sympathetic thought, and all the peace which reposes upon the watchful care of Him whose angels are "ministering spirits sent forth to minister for them who shall be heirs of salvation." "13 The whole doctrine of attendant angels now brightens before us, and we need not be ashamed to believe it. Science, indeed, may object 1 John xv. 5. Psalm lxii. 11. 3. Heb. i. 14. that even on our own principles not the delicate fingers of unseen love soothe and restore us, but unconscious forces renew our wasted strength, unravel the tangled web of over-careful thought, and give sweetness to our sleep: but who knows what living agents modify and direct those forces! May it not be the special ministry of those most like us to fit restoring mercies to our individual states by acting as mediums for their transmission? Would it enlarge their happiness to know that they perform such a blessed function! Then most certainly they know it. Does it make us more plastic in their hands if we love to think of it? Then most certainly we may believe it, and delight to believe it, and to think of it every night. There is, then, a Divine element in the popular belief that angels watch over us while we sleep. What a delightful thought this is to the careworn when a day of unusual struggle and difficulty has ended in the consciousness that he is all wrong; that the balance of right reason has not been preserved by faith, and that his aching head is confused and distressed by the fierce rebellions of unbelief and fear! "Angels and ministers of grace defend us!" may then break forth from lips unused to prayer, and he must be a sour bigot indeed who could scan severely such an "invocation of the saints," while the tender-hearted who have themselves been purified in the furnace of affliction will rejoice that such testimony to the existence of powers unseen lies deep in our very nature. It is inexpressibly delightful to come at length to the conclusion that truth does not require us to reason all poetry out of life, and cast the beauties of imagination—which is the very efflorescence and posy of reason-into the muddy river of materialism, to be lost in the fetid swamp of sensual wisdom. The fisherman's wife may, therefore, still watch her infant when a storm drives her husband out to sea, and bless the omen which she sees in the smile of her unconscious child. Let her still chant the scarce audible words, and believe them as she sings: LIVERPOOL. "For I know that the angels are whispering to thee." J. W. HANCOCK. LIFE. I WATCHED a fountain playing with a ball- Where, midst the topmost branches of the spray, It steady hung, rotating on its, pole In ceaseless revolution, as the drops Fell with a constant impact on its sphere. It is an Irish superstition that when an infant smiles in his sleep attendant angels are whispering to him. |