teaching of nature, the result does not speak highly of nature as a religious teacher. Those parts of the interior of Africa lately explored by Dr. Livingstone are extremely rich in scenes of natural beauty and sublimity; with a profusion and bounty rarely equalled in other parts of the world, nature empties her stores and distributes her wealth. To the view of Dr. Livingstone the new regions he visited teemed with the most striking proofs and illustrations of the divine perfections. Stored as his mind was with Bible ideas, and with an eye trained by Christian schooling to perceive the spiritual in the material, he read with ease and fluency many grand lessons of divine truth in the scenes which unfolded to his view. But this case, as well as every similar case, serves only to elucidate and confirm Coleridge's conception of nature as a teacher of spiritual truth,

"We receive but what we give, And in our life alone does nature live."

The children of the soil, the aboriginal inhabitants with whom Dr. Livingstone was brought into contact, though from childhood to age pupils in that grand school of nature and daily witnesses of her marvellous phenomena, were, with reference to all matters of spiritual concern, in a condition of brutal debasement. So far from possessing those lofty conceptions of God common even to children in a Christian country, they were bound down to the most trivial and degrading forms of fetish worship, or, where their spiritual nature was not developed even so far as that fact indicates, they evinced no thought or concern beyond the low and narrow round of sensual interest. From such pupils as these nature gains small credit, and yet it would seem she does her utmost for them. When left to herself her ability as a teacher of spiritual truth is extremely feeble and limited. Indeed, some reasoners on these matters go so far as to affirm that were man restricted solely to the teachings of nature he could never attain to even the most elementary conceptions of God. Material phenomena, they argue, cannot possibly by any process of intellectual chemistry be made to generate spiritual ideas; and unless such ideas be imparted from some other source man must necessarily remain under the sway of an all-dominating materialism. Nor is this reasoning without relevancy and force, though perhaps not altogether invulnerable.

But, without pushing the argument to its utmost limits, this is certain, that whatever nature may or may not be capable of teaching, she is utterly incompetent to satisfy the cravings of man's soul in reference to matters of the highest and most urgent importance. And here we shall restrict our remarks to two points. Everywhere, when the spiritual nature of man is in any degree developed, he is burdened with conscious guilt. Naturally and inevitably the sense

of guilt produces fear. Apprehensions of divine wrath overcast the horizon of his existence with gloomy shadows, and haunt his pathway like infernal spectres. He has sinned, sinned against the eternal laws of rectitude, sinned against the highest laws of his own nature, sinned against the laws of God: therefore God is incensed against him, and the displeasure of God is of all evils the most to be dreaded. But is there no way by which his wrath may be appeased, his anger averted, his favour propitiated? What sacrifices shall he offer, what austerities practice, what penances endure, as a means of procuring the goodwill of heaven? Surely if nature speak on any subject distinctly and fully it will be on this, for upon no other subject is it of so much importance that man should be instructed. And yet, strange to say, here where it is of such momentous concern for nature to speak, she is absolutely dumb. Never does she articulate one syllable or give one sign calculated to relieve the anxieties of man's guilt-stricken spirit, or to indicate the way by which the breach between him and his Maker may be healed. In vain does the astronomer unroll the mysteries of the starry skies or the geologist trace the foot-prints of Deity, impressed on the multiform strata of the earth's crust, in vain is it to study the wondrous forms of organic existence, or to listen to the mighty voices of the elements, or to search the spiritual depths of our own being; nature throughout her vast domains yields no response to the inquiry, "What must I do to be saved?" And she is equally dumb with regard to the question of a future life. The analogies drawn from the material world relating to this subject, and which have been applied with such admirable skill by Bishop Butler, are all well enough and of great force after the doctrine of a future life has been authoritatively revealed; but it is not too much to say that apart from the teachings of a higher revelation the analogies of nature on this subject are utterly flimsy and illusive as a ground of faith. Nature holds out no warrant for immortality. Left to her teachings alone the grave appears to us covered with impervious gloom, and human existence, with all its boundless speculations and yearnings, is swallowed up in an "eternal sleep." On these grounds we argue for the necessity of a supernatural revelation.

Now all the religions of the world, those of them at least which have attained to any degree of scientific form and development, profess to have received supernatural revelations expressly intend ed and fitted to remove the spiritual anxieties with which the world is afflicted and to guide men to a higher life. These profess ed revelations are embodied in books which are regarded by their respective adherents as of sacred character and of divine authority. Mahomedans have their Koran, Hindoos their Shaster, Christia ns their Bible. We say nothing at present of the evidences on which

these books claim to be recognized as divine, but merely note the fact that they put forth this high claim to the homage of men.

A preliminary question requires to be settled here. Objections are taken by Francis Newman and other modern deists to a book revelation, on the ground that such a revelation is impossible, as far at least as "moral and spiritual truth" is concerned. The only revelation possible, or indeed conceivable on rational grounds, he alledges, is that which is direct and immediate, consisting in intuitions of divine wisdom by the operation of the Eternal Spirit within the soul of the individual man. Now, to say the least of it, this sort of reasoning, lack what it may, is not lacking in boldness. To lay down rules for Infinite Wisdom to work by, and to fix the limits of Divine possibility in reference to the matter in question, or in reference to any matter, is rather a hazardous attempt. God may safely be left, one should think, to choose his own methods of action in communicating with his intelligent creatures, assured as we must be that he stands in no need of human counsels to preserve him from mistake. But why should a book revelation be deemed impossible, even with the qualifying restriction that it be a revelation of "moral and spiritual truth?" Is it that God has no more of this kind of truth to impart than man has already in possession? or is it that he cannot find suitable instruments by which to make the communication? If these suppositions are too monstrous to be entertained, is it, then, because a book is an unsuitable medium for imparting moral and spiritual truth? But on what grounds of reason this notion is based it is puzzling to imagine. Happily for the world nothing is more common now-a-days than for men to instruct their fellows in "moral and spiritual truth" as well as in truth of inferior importance, by means of books; even the very men who pronounce a book revelation from God to be impossible find it possible and practicable enough to communicate in books what they hold to be "moral and religious truth," thus exposing by their own conduct the silliness of their reasoning. Amongst cultured people books are ever regarded as the safest depositories and most perfect mediums of truth. The highest, the purest, the most finished thinkings of the wise and good, the profound reasonings of the philosopher, the firmly based and influential principles of the moralist, the grand and beautiful creations of the poet, are given to and preserved in the world by means of books. A good book, as Milton beautifully says, is the precious life-blood of a master mind. And we are warranted in concluding that if God had resolved to bless the world with a revelation of his character and will, so far from there being antecedent probabilities against it coming in the form of a book all the probabilities would be in favour of that form.

Reference has already been made to the professedly sacred books

of Mahomedans, Hindoos, and Christians. Now it is beyond our province to inquire on what grounds the Koran and the Shaster found their pretensions to supernatural authority, or to weigh their respective claims against those of the Bible. The question with which we have at present to do does not lie between the claims of these or any other professedly sacred books and the claims of the Bible, but between the Bible and nothing. For it will be readily allowed by all persons likely to consult these pages and by all wellinformed men that if the claims of the Bible as a supernatural revelation fail, there is not the remotest chance of any other professedly sacred book maintaining its ground.

In attempting to furnish a summary of the evidences for the divine authority of the Bible—a work of extreme difficulty within our prescribed limits-we begin with the substance of the book itself, the matters upon which it discourses. Unless there be congruity between the internal character of the book and its claims to supernatural authority, prejudice, natural and reasonable prejudice, is created against it at the outset. In the examination of this point, however, we must be on our guard lest our judgment be warped by whim, caprice, or unwarrantable hypothesis; we must keep our eyes steadily fixed upon the real substance, the main purpose and scope of the book, without being diverted by or attaching undue importance to matters of a secondary and subordinate nature. In a volume of such vast range as the Bible, comprehending a number of distinct treatises on history, biography, poetry, ethics, and doctrine, touching of necessity upon an endless variety of topics, and dealing with an endless variety of human interests, there are numerous matters brought within its scope which may be, and frequently have been, considered of far too trivial account to find place in a book of professedly divine revelation. But when it is considered that the same thing happens in the actual life and experience of men, that at every turn in human history, whether it be the history of an individual or of a nation, the little and the great, the magnificent and the mean, the transcendent and the trifling, are evermore impinging upon and mingling with each other; when this is considered, the difficulty is reduced to zero, nay, it is transformed into a positive characteristic of likelihood and truthfulness. But while the Bible, as occasion requires, touches upon and weaves into its own texture numerous things of seemingly small moment, its main purpose and business is to develop at large and bring home to the reason and conscience of man subjects of momentous and everlasting importance. Extended reference might here be made to the announcements given in the Bible respecting the being and perfections of God, announcements immeasurably transcending the sublimest conceptions of philosophy and in harmonious accord with the intuitions and cravings of man's

intellectual and moral nature. Extended reference might also be made to the morality expounded and enforced, a morality which, in spite of the furtive nibblings or the blasphemous libels of unbelief, is the noblest, the purest, the most comprehensive and complete of any ethical system ever given to the world. But these things, though of immense importance in themselves and though entering largely into the substance of the Bible, must of necessity be dismissed with this passing notice. Two other matters call for special observation, but our limits compel us to touch even upon them with brevity. In the Bible, especially in that part of it called the New Testament, the momentous questions respecting man's reconciliation with God and the immortality of his nature, are copiously developed and satisfactorily settled. It is declared that God is not only graciously disposed and ready to pardon the guilty children of men, but that he can exercise his mercy in this way without compromising the rectitude of his character or the principles of his government. By a wonderous economy of grace, illustrating all the perfections of the divine nature, in which the Son of God is seen taking upon himself the liabilities of our guilty race and expiating our sins by his own sufferings, a way of life is opened, man may be rescued from the ruin in which sin has involved him, and exalted to the ineffable privileges of divine sonship. Equally explicit is the teaching of the Bible on the subject of immortality. Yes, man shall live for ever. The light that is in him shall never be quenched, the life that is in him, the life of the soul, shall never die. And even his body, though subject to temporary dissolution, will in due time be reconstructed and made a participant of immortal life. Man in his entire nature, body and soul, is destined for endless existence, and it will be through his own folly if that existence is not one of unmingled felicity. Here, then, are the main themes of Bible discourse, and, beyond all cavil, they are sufficiently grand in themselves and of sufficient importance to us to form the substance of a divine revelation.

Passing from the substance of the Bible, and referring to its manner, its characteristics of style, method, and spirit, we cannot fail to be struck with numerous points vouching for the thorough honesty of its writers. Is it not truly marvellous, for instance, that a volume comprehending so great a number of separate treatises, written by different men of different culture and condition, in different ages and countries, should exhibit the utmost unity in design, in scope, in doctrine, and in morals, so that while it has all the diversity of a literature, as far as its intellectual features are concerned, it has also the oneness and completeness of a distinct book? Who can fail to be impressed with the unaffected simplicity of its histories and biographies, in which all sorts of circumstances are recorded with the utmost artlessness and freedom, even