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gratify his taste in a daisy than in the feeling that never became exhausted. most splendid and sumptuous drawing In the poem published after his death

He felt a divine call to his are the following words :work as a poet; and with a constancy “Dear native regions, wheresoe'er shall close that never flinched and an aim that My mortal course, there will I think on you.

Dying will cast on you a backward look; never wavered he gave his time and Even as this setting sun his energies to the fulfiment of his Doth with the fond remains of his last power mission. He loved his native moun

Still linger, and a farewell lustre sheds

On the dear mountain tops where once he rose." tains with a strength and fervour of

(To be continued.)

MODERN PHASES OF SCIENTIFIC FAITH.

The human mind of to-day is probably much the same as that of some thousands of years ago; and the men and women of the nineteenth century after Christ, are animated by similar hopes, depressed by similar fears, and endowed with similar powers and capacities, to those which distinguished the men and women of the nineteenth century before Christ. Yet, though the mind itself is unchanged, its views concerning its highest and most legitimate employments, and the relation in which it stands to the forces of external nature, are undergoing constant modifi. cation.

Absorbed in the contemplation of his own intellectual state, the philosopher of antiquity, as a rule, despised practical science, and if he ever condescended to be useful, thought it necessary, like Archi. medes, to explain that such was altogether beside the main purpose of his life. But in our day things are different; and to investigate and subdue to his own use the forces of nature, to pursue her into her inmost recesses, and bring to light all her bidden treasures, are considered among the noblest occupations in which a man can engage. Archytas would now find more followers than Plato; and the groves of Academus be forsaken for the noisy school of the practical pbilosopher. The increased comforts and conveniences, and length of human life in the England of to-day, compared with the Greece of the days of Socrates, will, in most men's esti. mation, establish for the disciples of Bacon a decided advantage over those of the sages of antiquity.

One of the main characteristics of modern science is, that it never stands still. Each discovery becomes a stepping.. stone to one that is higher. It is no wonder, therefore, that many now and startling doctrines have been enunciated, and that the articles of its faith require frequent modification to make them square with its own progress. To a few of these articles, which distinguish it to-day from the science of even comparatively recent times, we will briefly allude.

If Roger Bacon, or Basil Valentine, had dared so much as to hint that, in a chemical point of view, there was nothing whatever in man to distinguish him from the earth on which he trod and the air which he breathed, those pioneers of practical science would possibly have been condemned to be boiled down in their own alembics, as a warning to heretical monks for all time to come. Yet there is no doctrine which has received more universal assent than the one which embodies that fact. The chemist, by his subtlest scrutiny, aided by all the most refined appliances of modern analysis, is unable to detect in man's body, or in that of any other animal, or in any plant, an elementary substance which he cannot equally detect in inor. ganic nature.

A little later than the rigorous scientific demonstration of man's alliance with the dust, came the doctrine of the correlation of the physical forces. Heat, light, mag. netism, electricity, however diverse they may seem, are really but so many mani. festations of the one force, and can be made so to pass into one another, as at length to beget a settled belief that immu. tability really underlies what appears to be ceaseless change. The force may assume as many forms as the genie of an Arabian tale, yet it is essentially the same, and its energies are bound within limits that can often be strictly defined. The recognition of this truth enables results to be calculated which would at first sight seem startling. One of the simplest illus. trations of this correlation, an illustration known probably to most reading people, is that afforded by a Voltaic current. If a plate of copper and one of zinc be partly immersed in diluted sulphuric acid, and a copper wire be made to pass between the ends that are not in the acid, an electric current at once begins to flow through this wire; and there is always a definite relation between the tension and other properties of this current and the amount of zinc which the acid dissolves. If (being first insulated) the wire on its way from one plate to the other be wound 305

Modern Phases of Scientific Faith.

round a piece of soft iron, that iron is rendered magnetic, and the strength of its magnetism has a definite relation with the strength of the current. Or if instead of being wound round the iron it be placed beside another wire, a current will be momentarily induced in this second wire on the commencement and cessation of the flow through the first. If a magnetic needle, capable of motion, be placed under the wire, when the current passes the needle will move. By using a thin platinum instead of a thick copper wire, great heat becomes developed by the resistance experienced to the passage of the current. And by interposing two charcoal points in the circuit, a brilliant light is producible. This heat, light, magnetism, motion, and induced electricity all have a definite relation with the amount of chemical action on the zinc plate or plates, and are all strictly correlated to each other.

A third most important doctrine of modern science is that which is known as the “conservation of energy." By energy is meant the power of doing work; and it is spoken of under two conditions, as either "potential" or actual" energy.

A weight falling towards the earth is exercising "actual” energy; the same weight suspended at a distance above the earth has a "potential,” which would be changed for "actual” energy when the restraining force was removed. On impact with the earth, heat, another form of energy, would be developed, in just sufficient quantity to raise the weight to the height from which it fell if it were all used for that purpose. In the words of Profossor Tyndall, from whom this illustration is borrowed, “throughout the universe the sum of these two energies” (actual and potential) " is constant." And to quote from another distinguished living philosopher,* "the potential energy of gravitation was the original form of all the energy in the universe;" or in other words, in the mutual attractions which two dark masses capable of exercising on each other, there lie concealed heat, light, motion-indeed all possible manifestations of energy,

With beliefs in the doctrines mentioned, it was natural that science should extend her inquiries whithersoever they appeared applicable, and she has fairly asked whether the forces known as vital, from their being manifested by living beings, be really shrouded by an unapproachable mystery, or be not resolvable into these comprehensive forms of energy.

A man labours up a hill, and in doing so he lifts a certain number of pounds weight; i.e., the weight of his body; through a certain number of feet of per

pendicular height. At the same time his heart is forcing blood at a known velocity a given number of times per minute through his body; and the muscles of his chest, &c., are periodically overcoming the elastic resistance of its walls. Summing up all the work done, both within and without, it becomes a question whether there any recognizable relation between the expenditure of force necessary, on mechanical principles, to produce it, and internal changes such as could set free this amount of force. The answer to this question, though less certain than when the working of a machine like a steam engine is concerned, the work that can be done by which by the heat resulting from a given consumption of coal being definitely predicatable, is yet sufficiently conclusive to lead to the presumption that there is no essential difference in the two cases. The coal being burnt out and its heat expended, the engine comes to rest. The muscles and other textures of the man being consumed in doing his work, he also comes to a stand-still, unless new fuel in the shape of food is supplied. A definite amount of heat, the correlative in each case of a definite amount of chemical action, has produced a definite amount of mechanical motion.

But whence are derived the stores of hidden energy locked up in the coal and the food ? Science says they are all derived from the sun. His beams falling on seeds which repose on the bosom of mother earth, originate motion among their particles. The heat is temporarily transformed into this correlative amount of motion. A wonderful stir is that which takes place through all the minute cells of a seed when the warmth of spring wakes it-a stir which our microscopes and chemical tests enable us but very roughly to follow. In quick succession aleurone gives place to an albuminoid substance ; this to starch; starch to cellulose; cellulose to chlorophyll ; and this in some inscrutable way to solid deposits of carbon and hydrogen, which under various names constitute the different tissues of the mature plant. All this is done at the expense of heat.

But the gift is not thrown away. By and bye, when the fair ripe fruit passes into the body of our mountain climber, it becomes there slowly burnt, and in burning developes a force which he expends in producing an equivalent amount of mechanical motion; or when the trunk is cut down and em. ployed as more obvious though not more real fuel, it may enable the engine to do the same.

If the question be asked, Whence comes the heat that comes from the sun ?" it may well be thought that man, “cribbed,

are

* Sir W. Thompson.

cabined, and confined" within the narrow limits of his own small planet, would never aspire to solve the enigma of his constitution and look for secondary causes for his glorious heat and light. But the spirit of man is bold, and though, unlike Domingo Gonzales, he is unable to voyage personally towards that glorious luminary, or even after the manner of a more distinguished modern traveller to find a Laputa to convey him beyond the merest confines of his native earth, his eyes and his mind are ever busy among the stars, and he has by means of his telescope and spectroscope made the sun and them tell half the story of their life. The tale is a long one-too long to be told now-how philosophers have analyzed the sun. But they have done so. And very important conclusions they have come to concerning the probable origin and maintenance of his heat, and the probable destruction of our own and other planets-a destruction no less obviously pointed to by science than by holy writ, in which their “elements shall be melted by fervent heat.”

It can hardly be matter of wonder after the bold questions and startling speculations that have been indulged in, though by men of the highest scientific culture and in the truest scientific spirit, that there should be plenty of other men who with but a little of that culture and the mere semblance of that spirit should daringly fly at other conclusions, which no discovery as yet can warrant. To proceed from the forces which act through living organisms to the origin and method of construction of such organisms would at first seem to be but a small step; but it is a step from the known to the unknown; easy in theory, but exceedingly difficult in practice; a trifling feat for the imagination, which progresses by means of wings, but as yet an impossible one for philosophy, which must feel the ground beneath her feet at every tread. The origin of life, and still more that of thought and conscience, are among the mysteries as yet unrevealed

to man. A French observer, after straining his eyes and paining his neck by gazing for several consecutive hours through his microscope, may say, with characteristic audacity, that he has caught "Nature in the very act of creation," as he catches & glimpse of certain wriggling motions in a fluid which at first seemed clear. But science wants other evidence than this. She waits yet, and with the profoundest belief in her capabilities, and the truest veneration for her achievements, we believe that she ever will wait for the philosopher who, by the most cunning combination of elementary substances, shall be able to build up a monad or construct the simplest vegetable cell. Higher hopes than these have indeed been rashly expressed, but not by her sons; and in one instance at least has the attempt been boldly made. That instance is so instructive that we may be excused for mentioning it in detail. It is given by Professor Schleiden in “ The Plant; a biography." "One morning I entered the room of a madman.

I found him crouching down by the stove, watching with close attention a saucepan, the contents of which he was carefully stirring. At the noise of my entrance he turned round, and, with a face of the greatest importance, whispered, “Hush, hush! don't disturb my little pigs; they will be ready directly.' Full of curiosity to know whither his diseased imagination had now led him I approached nearer. *You see,' said he, with the mysterious expression of an alchemist, 'here I have black-puddings, pigs' bones and bristles, in the saucepan-everything that is neces. sary-we only want the vital warmth, and the young pig will be ready made again.'"

Science has done much, and will do much more, but there is only one who with power can say with reference to the dry bones or lifeless elements, " Come from the four winds, O breath, and breath upon these . . . that they may live.

W. CARTER.

THE BAPTIST UNION-AUTUMNAL SESSION AT CAMBRIDGE.

THE Autumnal Session of the Baptist Union has been a great and distinguished success. It was held in the ancient and classical University town of Cambridge, where the remembrance of Robert Robin. son and Robert Hall still lingers. The attendance was overflowing. Cambridge was invaded by the Baptists, Particular and General. The tide filled all the avail. able accommodation in private houses, and ran over into the Colleges. For the first

time in their history the Colleges of Johu Milton and Thomas Gray have received as their guests and lodgers the representatives of the hated and despised Anabaptists. With a magnanimity that is a most favourable sign of the times, the Masters and Fellows of Christ's and St. Peter's placed at the disposal of the Baptists the hospitalities of their venerable courts. Along the classic streets, through overarching cloisters, round the smooth-shaven

The Baptist Union-Autumnal Session at Cambridge. 307 lawns, under the magnificent groves of ing the earliest martyrs of the Reformathis world-famed University town, Baptist tion, and witnessing for faith in God and ministers have walked as if for the time the Scriptures, and for a blameless and they were in full possession of this ancient peaceable life. The address closed with seat of learning. The Cam, always slow an allusion to recent controversy and the and sluggish, fairly started with amazement continental war, and a passage of interupon a more rapid course, excited by the preted prophecy. The Message of Com. unwonted spectacle; so at least it appeared mittee being read, the Rev. J. Jackson to a brother of lively fancy.

Goadby read a judicious and thoughtful The proceedings of the week opened on paper on “ The Influence of Business on Monday, September 19, with the first of the Christian Life.” Mr. Goadby sought what were called the "Local preliminary specially to point out wherein business services.” The Rev. C. Vince preached an men were ever to be on their guard lest earnest and impressive sermon to the the tone of their piety should be lowered young. His text was 1 John iii. 1. He or lost in the active and eager pursuit of showed that the Bible was a book about wealth. The paper suggested that men God and about man, and that everything had less leisure now, and were more in in it was a rebuke and an argument against danger of being absorbed in business than sin; all the way through, not "proputty, they were fifty years ago. An animated proputty, proputty,''but“character, charac- discussion followed the reading of the ter, character,” that was what its writers paper, in which Mr. Goadby's strictures were saying; and God's grace was glorified were by one or two delegates regarded as in man's piety and religious life. The too severe. A very clear and able stateearly part of Tuesday was devoted to Con. ment of the question of the opening of the ference on Missions and Mission Work, Universities of Cambridge and Oxford to and the latter part to a Public Missionary Dissenters was made by Mr. W. S. Aldis, Meeting in the Guildhall. The Chairman M.A., of Cambridge, Senior Wrangler of a of the public meeting was Joseph Tritton, few years since. Mr. Neville Goodman, and the speakers were Dr. Price, of Aber- M.A., of St. Peter's College, followed. It dare, who spoke about the times being was felt to be worth the journey to Camgreat with possible missionary successes ; bridge to hear these scholarly gentlemen, Rev. J. C. Pike, who gave interesting de- in lucid and eloquent terms set forth the tails of work in Orissa; Rev. T. R. Steven- injustice which still debarred successful son, of Luton, who urged three arguments dissenting graduates from participating in for missions-God's providence, rewards, the emoluments and privileges of the Uniand commands; and Rev. T. W. Handford, versity. A resolution was passed affirm. of Bolton, who called upon young men, ing that no settlement of the question now the fathers were growing gray and would be complete and permanent that did passing from the field, to come forward not rest upon the basis of religious equality. and devote themselves to this sacred cause. After the dinner at Guildhall the most

The services and session of the Union memorable event of the week took place. proper began on Wednesday morning with On Parker's Piece, an open common almost a devotional service at Zion Chapel at seven in the midst of Cambridge, the Rev. C. H. o'clock, and another devotional service at Spurgeon, standing only upon an extemSt. Andrew Street Chapel at ten o'clock. porized platform, preached to a vast and The Chairman's Address followed, and was wide-spread assemblage. The sermon was listened to with great interest. Mr. Robin. an earnest appeal to sinners-having in it son was in his own chapel, and was evi- throughout an under-current of allusion dently at home. He gave the ministers to the war in France. The preacher called and delegates, in the name of his friends, upon those who were yet at enmity with a hearty welcome, and spoke of the United God to make a speedy peace at the foot of Prayer Meeting of Sunday evening, when the cross by the mediation of Jesus Christ, fervent petitions were offered for the divine who is Lord of all, because war was most blessing upon this Autumnal Session of unjustifiable, most disastrous and hopethe Union. The topic chosen for the ad. less. It was an impressive and solemn dress was, “A few lines of Baptist History appeal. From seven to ten thousand perand their Lessons." Mr. Robinson showed sons heard it, and none who heard it will how Anabaptists rose in the midst of the speedily forget it. The old days of White. Reformation, and how they were perse- field seemed for the moment to be revived, cuted and maligned, and he sought to vin. and some at least of the hearers prayed ferdicate their memory from the obloquy and vently that the preacher might often be contempt heaped upon them. Several new found where George Whitefield loved to be and important historical testimonies were found, speaking to the crowd with a table cited for this purpose, and Mr. Robinson for his pulpit, the heavens for his soundclaimed for the Anabaptists a high place ing board, and the glorious gospel of God's in the estimation of good men as furnish. grace for his theme.

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There was no other sermon but that of Baptist Noel's on the Thursday morning. With child-like simplicity and deep solemnity, Mr. Noel spoke for a full hour upon faith as the means of salvation. There were devotional exercises again after break. fast; a paper by the Rev. W. Brock, jun.,

Missing Links in Church Work and Church Organisations”—a thoroughly good and useful treatment of the subject; reso. lutions upon dozens of questions, and discussions more or less to the point. It was much regretted that the offer by the Revds. G. Gould, of Norwich, and H. S. Brown, of Liverpool, to give a prize of £10 to the writer of the best Essay on Justification, the competition to be confined to the stu. dents of our colleges, was not accepted

because of certain unpalatable conditions wbich the proposers would not give up.

The Soiree on Wednesday night failed, owing to the pouring in of townspeople in crowds, so that two public meetings were held instead-one in the Guildhall, and the other in St. Andrew Street Chapel. Two other public meetings followed on Thursday evening, and at each meeting Mr. Spurgeon spoke with marvellous freshness and power. Never were our Baptist Autumnal Meetings fuller of life and spirit, and never were they more calculated for usefulness. Cambridge will ring for some time to come with the echoes of speeches, and sermons, and discussions of Baptists.

T. GOADBY.

THE FRANCO-GERMAN WAR AND UNIVERSAL PEACE.

pow. Nations apply themselves to the perfection of the murderous art with unparalleled assiduity. Every energy of invention and of discipline is taxed. The swift and fiery agencies of science are summoned to aid in the destructive work. The plough rusts in the furrow, and the sword gleams in the quivering flesh of fellowmen. The pruning-hook is forgotten, and the bayonet robs the home of its head and guide. Indeed the day when national disputes shall be settled by the principles of reason and the laws of universal brotherhood, rather than by the coarse and brutal logic of the rifle and the sword, seems no nearer than when Isaiah and Micah cheered the troubled minds of their countrymen with the inspiring declaration of the coming of a King who should rule in righteousness, and a Prince who should bring world.

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wide peace.

NOTWITHSTANDING rumoured negotiations for peace the war still proceeds. Paris is completely invested. The capture of the Emperor Napoleon, and of the flower of bis army, at Sedan, on the memorable second of September, opened the way to the fairest city of the continent and of the world : and it is now as thoroughly isolated from the centres of civilization as the vil. lages hidden away in the heart of China, or shut up in the defiles of the Himalayan Mountains. The German forces have arranged themselves round the capital of France with the earnest resolution that compels success, and the dogged perseverance that will not be baulked of the real prizes of recent victories. At the west the Crown Prince occupies Versailles. The eastern approaches are closed. North and south the French have been driven back. Paris is blockaded at every point, and may be bombarded within a short time. The city, filled with costly treasures of art and beauty, may be given up to the ravages of the invader, in spite of its elaborate and extensive fortifications. Europe wishes, prays, and hopes, that so terrible a retri. bution may not befall the proud metropolis. The besieged remonstrate and resist. And the war-demon, unsatisfied, rushes heedless of the wishes and deaf to the prayers of myriads of men.

How long shall this desolating scourge be suffered ? Will the whirlwind of war never cease ? Will the time never come when the welcome predictions of the Hebrew prophets, and the joyful anticipations of the psalmists, shall be fulfilled ? Such questions seem most inopportune just now. The contrast between the predictions of seers and the present circumstances of Europe is perfect and entire, wanting nothing. War was never so gigantic as

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Still we are confident that the goal of mankind revealed in Scripture shall be reached. The annals of the world shall yet be crowded with the story of other deeds than those of misrule, tyranny, and bloodshed. A perfectly unarmed and un. suspecting peace shall prevail from the rivers even to the ends of the earth. Christ Jesus loved and worshipped by men, shall be the acknowledged umpire of the nations, and He shall judge amongst the people, and they shall beat their swords into ploughshares, and their spears into pruning-hooks, and shall not learn war any more; for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it. Christ Jesus is sufficient even for this. He is the world's hope, and He only. He is our Peace. We have no other. Commerce creates barriers, but they are broken through in a breath. Learning and culture give promise to the ear ,which they fail to keep to the heart. Art and

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