attended by a restriction of the vegetable world. Is there not in this previous arrangement a striking and admirable analogy to that slow but solid progress of the calcareous soil; that great provision for the future, by which, as the races destined to increase shall increase, the means of existence shall be secured for them by an augmentation of space and fertility. But were we to trace the circles of chemical combinations as far as even our present_knowledge allows, we should scarcely know where to stop. Let us turn from the dead to the living universe.

It is through Chemistry that vegetables grow, and that the human body lives, a moving machine, the agent of our spiritual essence. The plant is a chemical structure, as well as a mechanical one, and the animal is a complicated laboratory. To both there is allotted a principle of life; this life, in both, is necessary to their chemical actions, though what it is, we know not. Durable and dormant it may be at the same time in vegetables very notedly, in seeds in particular, almost miraculously.

;

But being exerted, in vegetables by heat principally, the chemical powers are called forth, and the actions commence ; attached, as it would seem, but we know not how, to the organic structure, and varying in their produce or results, as that structure varies, while ever reproducing that peculiar structure in union with which they operate.

And, as it is in plants, so it is in Animals. The animal structure is a collection of organs, visibly dissimilar, and to each is allotted a peculiar chemical function. As in the plant, so in the animal, from a few compounds received by an allotted organ, the elements are separated by the chemical powers of that organization, to be again combined into other and various compounds by other allotted organs, all of them answering some necessary purpose as to the whole structure. Thus does this complicated laboratory continue to operate while the principle of life remains, though subject to errors of action, called diseases, or productive of disease, from causes with which we are imperfectly acquainted, and though further doomed to that diminution of power, which is old age. But it pleases HIM who gave the principle of life to withdraw it; or it is destroyed, or expelled, by external forces of various kinds. The organi zation remains, but it has ceased to act; and Chemistry then seizing on the inert materials, recombines them into the new compounds of new dissolution.

It must remain for future philosophers to prove that real simplicity is not here united to contrivance; we confess our expectations that the deeper our enquiries penetrate, the more

we shall be convinced that an admirable simplicity is added to an equal design; and that contrivance and adaptation are united, even to that exhaustless variety which appears to reign a sublime characteristic of the works of the Divine Being.

On the subject of variety in the arrangements of nature, we would willingly have given a few paragraphs, considering that it has not experienced from writers on natural history, as well as natural theology, the attention which it deserves; but the subject is beyond our present purpose. It is, perhaps, in its extent beyond all the imaginations of man. We must now limit

ourselves to a few miscellaneous suggestions.

There is an old and interesting opinion, that the Deity, whose pleasure (may we use such a term) it has been to communicate happiness, and the means of happiness, to his sentient creation, has not excluded from his care in this respect, the vegetable world. If it be the business of natural history to investigate this question, it may be also that of natural theology; since if it can be established that plants are susceptible of pleasure, it opens upon us a still wider view of those attributes of the Deity, which we know not how to express in adequate language, since the term goodness falls short of our meaning; but which, did we find them in man, we should term bountiful, generous, benevolent. The arguments on this capability of the vegetable world are embarrassed by the evident difficulty of reasoning on existences which cannot express their feelings by a voice; and by the consideration of other obvious circumstances.

Negatively, it is in the first place remarked, that we have no evidence by language, or voice, of the feeling of innumerable tribes of animals; and if locomotion be stated as the boundary of the consciousness of pleasure, there are myriads on myriads of beings fixed through life to one narrow spot, vegetable existences with the substance of animals, to which we grant the consciousness of pleasure, and even volition.

If again we draw a narrower boundary, and suppose that the consciousness of pleasure is attached to movement short of locomotion, there are innumerable vegetables which move their parts under the influences of stimuli, which we know to be either salutary or hurtful to them; while there are animals in which there has scarcely been traced any appearance of motion; many in which the motions are more restricted than in numerous vegetables. Yet, from habit, from the influence of a mere term, we grant to the animal structure what we deny to the vegetable.

To illustrate this as it deserves, might require detail; but it has been asked, on what grounds a plant moves any part under

the influence of a salutary stimulus, unless it is sensible of that stimulus, and is endued with a power of associating that sensation with a corresponding exertion? Such sensation must be felt, since this is an identical proposition; and that there can be feeling without consciousness of feeling, seems a contradiction in terms. And if a motion follows, there is an interval of association to be filled. And by what can this be filled if it be not volition? not that volition which occurs in the higher classes of animals; not the previous balancing perhaps of opposed motions, but a movement of choice, or at least of exertion.

:

If further it can be shewn, as has been strongly asserted, that plants do exert choice, then must there be a volition; and the organized body which can select that which is best for it, having appetencies, and gratifying those appetencies, must be at least susceptible of pleasure, if not of pain. It must be acknowledged that there is something extremely unsatisfactory in that hypothesis which supposes the plant a machine, and its fibres moving like springs by the influence of attraction; vague and abused term! An atheistical hypothesis we do not scruple. to call it for in atheism it originated, and by atheism has it been maintained. Nor, once admitting it any whiere, shall we ever be able to define where the machine ends, and the living being commences. Our knowledge of the physiology of plants is rapidly increasing, and there are even some extraordinary approaches to the proof that plants are sentient; evidences that they possess a nervous system, governed, in many points, by laws analogous to those of animals. If it should be thus shown that they have organs of feeling, while we clearly perceive that they act as if they felt, we cannot see that much will remain necessary to the establishment of this highly curious and interesting theory: while, if proved, we must contemplate it as adding largely to the general views of the Divine beneficence. If it should be objected, that the mutilation and destruction of vegetables, consonant to the very purposes for which they were created, would produce a greater mass of evil than good to them, if they are gifted with sensation; the consequence may be easily repelled; because we know that in the lower classes of animals there seems to be little or no provision for pain, while we doubt not that they are susceptible of pleasure.

To pass to another topic, on which also we wish to see Natural Theology exert its researches. It has been much doubted that the Creator, giving to man a language adapted

to the extent of his wants, should have denied to the inferior animals that which, in an inferior degree, proportioned to their wants also, might be advantageous to them. If we cannot understand that the intercourse of animals can proceed to their advantage, without some other powers of communication than those limited cries which strike our ears, a rational theology will not think itself humiliated by investigating a subject that may add to our knowledge and love of the Creator of all things.

There are some striking facts that seem almost to establish the inference, that there is, among many animals, a real language, and that to none of the gregarious tribes, at least, has been denied some mode of communication, fully adequate to their range of ideas. But on this subject we can but touch, as the facts and reasonings in support of this opinion do not admit of any condensed view. Let us be content with pointing it out as a fitting subject for any writer who may undertake a work which we still hope to see executed before much time shall have passed away. Another topic we must yet notice.

It is true that God has given to man "a living soul," and that He has distinguished this favoured being above all others, by opening his eyes to the contemplation of Himself. Thus also is this part of Creation so constituted as to be susceptible, not only personally, but according to the posterity of man, of progressive improvement; yet it is too often the tendency of man to pride himself in the thought that he is the monopolist of the Divine favour, forgetting that His providence extends to "the sparrow." It is the duty of the sound theologian to labour to extend the knowledge of the goodness of the Deity, and therefore, taking man and his powers as the standard, to enquire how far the inferior animals partake with him. It is no rational Theology to depreciate the inferior animals, for the purpose of exalting man. He will still be the Lord of the Earth, whatever we may admit as to them.

If it can be shewn, as we desire to see it shewn, that the race of animals are, like us, though in other modes and degrees, susceptible of improvement; for this, it is necessary to investigate the faculties, or the metaphysics, of animals, with far more care than has yet been done. Here it is that we come into collision with the term Instinct. We think that this term has been grossly abused, so as even to have led certain persons into hypotheses little better than atheistical; we also think that philosophers in general have, in adopting such nar

row views of the animal faculties, or mind, detracted from the attributes and glory of that Being whose perfections it is our duty to discover and declare.

We may here advert to a late discovery, which highly deserves a place, from the unexpected wisdom and resource which it displays. We give it also, partly as an example of one of those new facts in the science, which it would be incumbent on any future author to search diligently out; one of a number which would lead us to infer, that such a work as we contemplate must be executed by a cultivator of Science at large.

It has been proved that the light of the sun penetrates to but a very moderate depth within the ocean, and that the great bulk of its waters is consigned to perpetual darkness. Yet is this darkness inhabited by myriads of animals, seeking their food, and performing all their other allotted functions.

He

It remained for almighty Power to dispense with the use of light, and also with the organs adapted to receive its impressions; or to enlighten the mass of ocean, so far as light was required for the purposes of its inhabitants, by other means. has adapted the latter course, has given the organs of sense, and has placed in the ocean those lights which he has invented for this purpose. Would the invention of man have been foiled in suggesting the expedient, which he could not have executed? We know not; but what he had not observed until this day, though it has been so long placed before him, he surely might not, at any other time, have even conceived. Yet nothing can be more simple and more effectual than the contrivance? The animal itself is luminous: every inhabitant of the depths of the ocean bears its own living lamp, to enlighten its own path, or else to serve as the guide to those who would pursue it. Those are the lights of the ocean, so familiar; stars in the abyss, enlightening its darkness, even to the mariner, while they are the objects and the prey of creatures whose lot it is to live for each other's wants. And even this is not all. As no animal that lives subject to the attacks of others, seems deprived of defence, this is a lamp that can be extinguished at pleasure, subjected to the will of the animal, giving it that power, which old Imagination had attributed to the ring of Gyges.

Here is a provision of wisdom for striking ends; and yet not for all that were required. The animal dies, and its light is extinguished, yet not for ever. It would be useless as food, since it could not be found: it might be offensive, from its decay. No sooner is it dead, and the living light extinguished,