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PALEI’S NATUEAL THEOLOGY.

%

PALEY’S NATURAL THEOLOflY

^EVISJSB TO HARMONIZE WITH MODERN SCIENCE

BY

R LE GEOS CLAEK, F.E.S.

SOEMERLY PRESIDENT AND HUNTERIAN PROFESSOR OF SURGERY AND
PATHOLOGY IN THE ROYAL COLLEGE OP SURGEONS OF ENGLAND;
CONSULTING SURGEON TO ST. THOMAS’S HOSPITAL, ETC.

LONDON :

THE CHRISTIAN EVIDENCE COMMITTEE OF THE

SOCIETY FOU PROMOTING CHRISTIAN KNOWLEDGE,

NORTHUMBERLAND AVENUE, W.C. ; 43, QUEEN VICTORIA STREET, E.C.
BRIGHTON ; 129, north street.

New York ; B. & J. B. YOUNG & CO.

1902.

The Christian Evidence Committee of the S.P.C.K.,
whilst giving its general approval to the works of
the Christian Evidence Series, does not hold itself
responsible for every statement or eveiy line of
argument.

The responsibility of each writer extends to his
own work only.

PREFACE.

The present edition of Paley’s Natural Theo-
logy has been prepared at the request of the
Society^ the object proposed being an issue of
this standard work^ with such alterations in the
illustrative part of the text as are required by
^ the progress of science since the author’s time.
This remark will be found to apply chiefly to
the anatomical and physiological illustrations,
but not exclusively so. The natural history, in
all its departments, has also been revised ; in-
deed the revision has been extended throughout
the volume. Yet care has been exercised not
in any way to interfere with the general plan
and argument of Paley, and to preserve his
style and diction as much as possible : the
deviations from the original text are such only
as were rendered necessary to fulfil the condi-
tion on which the task was undertaken. This

VI

PREFACE.

has been accomplished by the omission or
correction of errors^ and by the substitution and
addition of fresh illustrations where they ap-
peared to be needed. It is hoped that the value
of the work will be thereby enhanced^ whilst its
distinctive characteristics are retained without
mutilation ; and that the volume may be thus
rendered more worthy of the high and just esti-
mation in which it continues to be held. If the
effort to accomplish this object be approved^ less
reserve may be exercised in a future edition^ by
drawing more liberally from the ever-expanding
sphere of the physical sciences.

Editor.

CONTENTS

PAGE

Introduction 1

CHAPTER I.

State of the Argument.

Argument stated, and illustrated by reference to the
mechanism of a watch ...... 9

CHAPTER II.

State op the Argument (continued) . • . .17

CHAPTER III.

Application op the Argument.

Eye and Telescope. Light. Distance. Eyes of birds,
fish, &c., and the special adaptation of structure to
function. Human orbit ; eye-brow ; eye-lid j source
and use of the tears. Nictitating membrane in
birds and quadrupeds. The ear; structure and
functions of its various parts . . • • . 27

CHAPTER IV.

Op the Succession of Plants and Animals.

Generation does not explain contrivance. Different
forms of generation . 65

Vlll

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER V.

Application of the Argument {continued),

PAGE

Recapitulation. Progress of knowledge in relation to
the uses of animal and vegetable structures. Atheistic
argument. Definition of the word chance’^ — its
assumed infiuence as contrasted with intelligent
design. The true relation of structure to function.
Development by evolution. A principle of order.

The imperfection of our knowledge no reason for
incredulity 71

CHAPTER YI.

The Argument Cumulative . . , . • 89

CHAPTER YII.

Of the Mechanical and Immechanical Parts and
Functions of Animals and Yegetables.

Imperfection of knowledge no proof of want of con-
trivance. Mechanism of muscular movement ;
agency of nervous influence. Chemical actions ;
digestion; secretion; microscopic anatomy; repair
of injury ......... 92

CHAPTER YIII.

Mechanical Arrangement in the Human Frame.

Mechanism admitting of various movements of the
head and neck. The fore-arm. The spine ; its
various offices ; its conformation in man ; in fish ;
in serpents ; in birds. Structure and uses of the
skull ; of the cheet. The knee-pan. The joints ;
their various forms and uses. Ball-and-socket;

CONTENTS.

IX

hinge ; their structure, and the mode of connexion
of the hones which form them. The joint-oil. The
teeth ; the sutures of the skull . . • . . 106 .

CHAPTER IX.

Op the Muscles.

Adaptation of muscular power to the nature and
extent of movements in each joint. Mode of mus-
cular action. Antagonism between muscles, with-
out mutual obstruction or interference. Uses of
tendons as intervening cords between the moving
power and lever. Variety in the figure of muscles.
Variety, precision, and rapidity of movement exem-
plified in the tongue. Uses of the mouth, in speech,
mastication, taste, &c. The larynx in singing j the
hand in writing. Sphincters. Combined action of
muscles. Mechanism of muscular action ; special
adaptations to particular purposes . . ^ .132

CHAPTER X.

Op the Vessels op Animal Bodies.

The circulation of the blood ; its utility. Disposition
of the blood-vessels ; arteries and veins. The heart;
its agency in the circulation. The lungs ; respira-
tion; its effect in purifying the blood. Valves in
the heart and great arteries. Uses of the blood.
Digestion of the food, and conveyance of nutriment
into the circulation. Nature of digestion ; the gas-
tric juice ; its action. The bile, gall-bladder and
gall-duct. The saliva and salivary glands. The
gullet and wind-pipe ; their relations and uses.
Structure and uses of the larynx. Collective action
and mutual subserviency of various parts of the
frame 157

X

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER XL

Op the Animal Structure regarded as a Mass.

FAGS

Correspondence of the two sides. Symmetry and re-
semblance of duplicate parts. Absence of sym-
metry within the chest and abdomen. Package
and protection of the viscera and other parts.
Beauty of form and colour, exemplified in plants
and animals. The skins of animals. The active
power by which the body is maintained in the erect
posture. The bird on its perch. The membrane
covering the bones. The scarf-skin. The skull as
a protection to the brain 193

CHAPTER XII.

Comparative Anatomy.

Varied covering of animals. Of man ; of birds ;
structure of feathers. Various forms of mouth.

The teeth, and their formation ; their structure in
different classes of animals; in man as a mixed
feeder. The bills of birds. The gullet ; the stomach ;
the intestines ; their adaptation to the habits of
animals. Bones of quadrupeds ; of birds. The
lungs of birds ; their peculiarity. Why birds are
oviparous. Instruments of motion : wings of birds ;
fins of fish ; web -feet of birds. The senses of diffe-
rent animals ; their relative development • . 217

CHAPTER XIII.

Peculiar Organizations.

Long necks of quadrupeds ; how supported. Whale-
bone. Oily secretion of birds. Swimming-bladder

CONTENTS.

Xl

PAGE

of fish. Poison-fangs of serpents. Bag of opossum.
Claws and bills of birds. Stomach of camel. Tongue
of woodpecker. Tusks of walrus. The sloth . . 254

CHAPTER XIY.

Prospective Contrivances.

The teeth ; their development. Horns. Milk j its
secretion. The eye before birth. The lungs before
birth. Structural arrangements peculiar to foetal
life 26^

CHAPTER XY.

Relations.

The fitness of parts to each other, illustrated by the
structure of a watch j exemplified in the animal
economy. Digestion in different animals. The kid-
neys and bladder. Position of the eyes. The sexes.

The teats and mouth. Particular relations. The
swan's bill, neck, and stomach. Form and structure
of the mole ; its feet, eyes, &c. .... 27^

CHAPTER XYI.

Compensation.

Proboscis of elephant. Hook on bat’s wing. Legs
and bill of crane. Tongues of birds. Spider’s web.
Multiple eyes of insects. The chameleon. The
snail, mussel, and cockle. The lobster ; its growth
and change of shell ; repair of injury. ^ The sloth.

The sheep. The clothing of animals. Ruminating
animals. The bills and gizzards of birds. Loco-
motive organs of snakes and worm^ . . . 29S

XU

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER XYII.

The Relation of Animated Bodies to Inanimate
Nature.

PAGE

Wings of birds. Fins of fisb. The ear and the eitmo-
sphere. Organs of voice and respiration. Sight
and light. Proportion in the size of animals. Earth
and sea. The earth and its inhabitants. Sleep and
night. Day and night. Hybernation. Migration . 311

CHAPTER XYIII.

Instincts.

Definition. Incubation of eggs ; in birds. Instinct of
oviparous economy in insects. Love of offspring.
Spawning of fish. Attempts to explain maternal
instincts. Building of nests. Hybernating animals.
Pairing of birds ....... 319

CHAPTER XIX.

Of Insects.

Structure of insects ; their legs ; their wings. The
dragon-fly. The gnat ; its birth. Habits of insects.
Their jaws or mandibles; their palpi ; sucking mouth
and proboscis. The stings of insects ; their struc-
ture and action. Feeding of the butterfly. Gizzard
of insects.. Sense of touch in insects. Circulation
and purification of the blood. Metamorphoses of
insects. Security of their eggs. Poison-fang of
spider. Spinning apparatus of caterpillar and
spider. Bees. Production of wax and honey ; use
of the sting. Stag-beetle. House-fly. Glow-worm.
Electric orgap of torpedo. Phosphorescence of sea.
Mechanism of shells. Snails. Shell-fish. Bivalves.
Lobster’s shell and tail. Yariety in nature; in
breathing-organs ; in clothing ; in appetites . . 340

CONTENTS.

Xlll

CHAPTER XX.

Of Plants.

PAGE

Two-fold law of vegetation. Perfecting of tlie seed.
Structure of plants. Peculiarities adapted to utility.
Protection of buds; of seeds. Fruits; their uses:
diverse kinds. Dispersion of seeds. Structure of
seeds. Germination. Climbing plants ; tendrils.
Grasses ; their variety and uses. Growth of vallis-
neria ; of parasitical plants : the mistletoe. Com-
pensation in plants. Protection of seeds and plants
in winter. The dioncea ; its structure and habits . 369

CHAPTER XXI.

The Atmosphere, Water, Heat, and Light.

The atmosphere ; its various uses in supporting life,
combustion, &c. Water; its qualities and uses.
Relation of water to land. Heat ; its sources and
influence. Light ; its rate of travelling ; its pro-
perties ; difierent lengths of the waves of light pro-
ducing variety of colour ...,•. 392

CHAPTER XXII.

Astronomy.

Movements of heavenly bodies. Extent of our astro-
nomical knowledge. The sun the source of heat
and light. Earth an oblate spheroid. Probable
structure and density of the earth. Geological
investigation, and conclusions drawn therefrom.
Centripetal forces and vis inertioe. Attraction.
Perturbations. Movements of the planets. Origin
of our planetary system. Motion of the moon.

Law of gravitation not a blind impulse . . . 400

XIV

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER XXIIL
Of the Personality of the Deity.

PAGE

Contrivance proves personality. Definition of per-
sonality. Attributes of tbe Deity. Our means of
becoming acquainted with the Divine essence. Con-
trivance and intelligence. Definition of law. Diffe-
rence between mechanism and power. Illustration
by movements and works of a watch. Second
Causes. Principles in relation to phenomena. Gene-
ration not a principle, but a process. Relations of
air to lungs, and of light to the eye. Unconscious
energies. Buffbn’s organic molecules. Internal
moulds, and appetencies. Development from use
or accident. Objections to these theories ; exem-
plified especially by the senses . • • . 420

CHAPTER XXiy.

Of the Natural Attributes or the Deity.

Attributes of the Deity revealed to us. How they
concern us. Omnipotence and omniscience. The
omnipresence of God. Definition of eternity : self-
existence j necessary existence ; spirituality . . 454

CHAPTER XXY.

The Unity of the Deity.

Uniformity of plan in the universe. Condition of the
Planets. Uniformity in action of the laws of nature.
Analogies in development of animals. Also in plants 462

CHAPTER XXYI.

The Goodness of the Deity.

Contrivance in nature beneficial. The pleasurable

CONTENTS.

XV

sensations of animals. The large sum of happiness
in animated nature : in insect life ; in fish ; in the
young of animals ; in children ; in old age. Animal
enjoyments diversified. Preponderance of good
over evil. Blessings not prized because common.
Pain. God not indifierent to our happiness. Cases
of venomous animals j and of animal destruction for
food. Destruction in relation to superfecundity.
Pleasure in animal sensations not necessary. Grati-
fication of the palate. Oongruity between the
animal senses and their objects. Varied enjoyment
in occupation ; sport ; possession and property.
Origin of evil. Doctrine of imperfections. Pinite-
ness not a just subject of complaint. Uses of bodily
pain ; its alleviations. Bodily disease. Conditions of
health. Mortal diseases. Death. Rational occu-
pation a great principle of human satisfaction.
Physical evils. Civil evils. Increase of population.
Distinctions of civil life. Money ; station ; public
law. Free agency. The appearance of chance not
real: exemplified by uncertainty of life; variation
in weather ; disparity of wealth and station, and in
parentage. Exigencies of social life. Sensible in-
terposition of Providence. The present a state of
probation. Virtue. Formation of character. Trials.
Revelation. Passive virtues. Degrees of happiness 468

CHAPTER XXVII.

Conclusion.

Influence of impressions ; of the contemplation of the
works of nature. Relation of NaturPvl Theology to
Revelation. Probabilities of a future state. Mate-
rialism. Our high destiny ..... 546

INTRODUCTION.

The Author, in the commencement of the twelfth
chapter of this Treatise, refers to an idea
or supposition vaguely entertained by certain
v/riters of his time, that, in creation, some
general plan might have proceeded from a
fixed necessity in the nature of things and
then pertinently inquires how, if such be the
case, could it accommodate itself to the various
wants and uses which it had to serve under dif-
ferent circumstances and on different occasions/^
This idea, however, had not in his time
acquired sufficient support or currency among
men of science to entitle it to any serious con-
sideration in this justly celebrated work. It is
accordingly merely mentioned to be put aside;
and the argument maintained in these pages is
based on the belief, that the living organisms
in which intelligent design is traced were origi-
nally formed in a mature and finished state, and
that each was endowed with a capacity of repro-
ducing its like, by originating a new germ which

2

INTRODUCTION.

should be developed^ through a natural process
of growth^ until it attained the same maturity
of form and structure^ without essential variation
from the primitive type.

No doubt if Paley could have foreseen that
the idea^ casually mentioned by him and then
dismissed^ would at a later date have been re-
vived in a far more attractive and consistent
form^ and under the name of the Theory of
Evolution have enlisted on its side the support
of so many able Naturalists and Biologists^ he
would have shown in what manner his argument
might be adapted to this view of Nature. There-
fore, in issuing a new and revised edition of
his work, it may be permitted without presump-
tion to preface it with a few remarks on this
point.

The term Evolution is used by naturalists
to signify the progressive development, under
the operation of natural laws, of more complex
and highly organized beings from those of
simpler or lower type : or, to express the same
idea in the words of one of the earliest and chief
advocates of this theory (Dr. Darwin), pro-
bably all the organic beings which have ever
lived on this earth have descended from some
one primordial form, into which life was first
breathed.^^

INTRODUCTION.

8

In considering the effect of this view on Paley'^s
line of argument^ any reference to Man, as amoral
and responsible agent, is designedly excluded.

It must be confessed that on our author^s sup-
position of the original formation of the various
organisms, in a matured and perfect state, the
argument from the appearances of design is
more obvious and direct, than it can be on
the modern theory of evolution by natural
agencies, or ^^a fixed necessity in the nature
of things. If each matured living organism
was originally framed to perform, with com-
plete efficiency and perfect adaptation to sur-
rounding circumstances, its many and intri-
cate functions, the inference that Intelligence
must have designed and formed it for its office
is so obvious and cogent, as to command a ready
assent from the common sense of mankind.
But according to the theory of gradual develop-
ment, the varied and beautiful examples of
mechanism which we witness in the structure
of animals, and their marvellous adaptation
to the uses required of them, are held to be the
natural consequence of evolutionary agencies,
without immediate creative interference or the
direct exercise of designing and constructing
intelligence. Hence it may be affirmed by some,
to whom this theory appears to be established
B 2

-4

INTRODUCTION.

Dy sufficient proofs that it is fatal to the argu-
ment from the appearances of design. It was
not an intelligent Designer^ they may say^ who
skilfully 7 erfected each form of life^ in its rela-
tion to surrounding circumstances^ and thereby
adapted it to the special sphere of its existence ;
but it was by the agency of natural forces and
of these surrounding conditions, exerted by im*
perceptible steps through an indefinite period^
that a simple^ primordial form has been pro-
gressively developed and fashioned, until we are
presented with the complex and exquisite models
of living mechanism, that excite our admiration,
and impress our minds with the idea of con-
trivance and design.

Without attempting to question the sufii-
ciency of the facts, or to discuss, either on
scientific or other grounds, the validity of the
arguments adduced in favour of this theory, the
object of these introductory remarks is to point
out, that the modern doctrine of evolution does
not necessarily carry with it a confutation of the
argument from the appearances of design. If
this theory shall ever take its place among the
universally recognized truths of Science, it will
undoubtedly afiect what may be called the
incidence of the argument, and render the
application of it more remote. But a little

IKTRODUCTlOl^.

5-

consideration will show that the argument itself
will retain its essential validity, and by na
means be robbed of its force, or become anti-
quated or useless.

Lord Bacon, in his Confession of Faith,
remarks that the laws of nature, which now
remain and govern inviolably till the end of the
world, began to be in force when God rested

from His work Nevertheless, He doth

accomplish and fulfil His divine will in all
things, great and small, general and particular,
as fully and exactly by providence as He could
do by miracle and new creation, though His
working be not immediate or direct, but by
compass ; not violating nature, which is His
own law, upon His creatures."^^

In like manner the sagacity of Bishop Butler
enabled him to anticipate the precise question
at issue in this conflict, when he wrote that,,
^^an intelligent Author of Nature being sup-
posed, it makes no difference in the matter
before us, whether He acts in nature every
moment, or at once contrived and executed
His own part in the plan of the world. On
this unquestionable ground it may be said, with
equal force, that however far back the direct
interference or action of the Designer is re-
moved, tihat interference or action is not got

6

INTRODUCTION.

rid of^ but only put back to an earlier stage,
where the necessity for it exists as much as
ever. If we suppose that the theory of evolu-
tion, in its most unqualified acceptation, is true,
and that the existing condition of our globe,
including its living tenants, has been fashioned
from formless atoms or molecules of matter,
under the guidance of natural forces and laws,
still we should not be thereby enabled to dis-
pense with an intelligent Designer, who in the
beginning framed these laws, determined the
agency of these forces, and endowed these atoms
with the properties which have fitted them to
evolve out of themselves the marvellous fabric,
which is so varied in all its details and so per-
fect in all its relations.

Design does not cease to be design because
the Designer's hand, instead of manufacturing
the organisms out of the raw material, manu-
factured the material in such a way, and with
such consummate skill, as to enable it in the
course of ages to run itself, so to speak, into a
myriad shapes of life and beauty. An analo-
gous instance of evolution is witnessed in the
reproduction and development of the highest
forms of animal life, including man, from an
ovum or simple germ of living matter. Here
the law of like producing like is uniform, and

INTRODUCTION.

r

the limit of development is defined and con-
stant ; yet the mystery of the evolution of a
whole creation is only the same in kind^ as that
of the development from the germ of each
creature^ especially if that creature be^ like
man^ of a high type.

But, it has been asked, what proof have we
that these elementary atoms were created —
are not self-existent and eternal ? The opinion
of Sir John Herschel, embodied in his me-
morable words, that the elementary molecules
possess all the characteristics of manufactured
articles,^^ and the same conviction expressed
by other eminent physicists, has been recently
disputed. In the absence of conclusive evidence
on this subtle subject of inquiry, the unsatisfied
reader has to make his election between the
alternative probability of the antecedent exis-
tence of an Intelligent Creative Power, and the
self-existence and marvellous self-endowment
of the elementary molecules.

Thus, if it be conceded that matter was
created, even were the theory of evolution
established without reservation by irrefragable
proof, it would still leave the inference of mtel-
ligent design untouched, and would only put
back the stage at which the Designer's hand
exerted its fashioning energy. To have created

8

INTRODUCTION.

the material atoms in the beginnings and to
have endowed them with inherent attributes
and capabilitieSs sufficings under favouring cir-
cumstanceSs to produce the varied combinations
which constitute our organic and inorganic
worlds is virtually to have created everything
which has since grown out of them ; and ifs on
the theory of direct creations we were justified
in our inference cf an intelligent Creators surely
we cannot hesitate to adopt the same conclusions
if we accept the theory of evolutions the com-
prehensive simplicity of whichs whether it be
true or falsOs presents us with a grand concep-
tion of Creative Power.

In conclusions the reader is reminded that
this volume deals with no more than the first
step in the progress towards Christian belief.
In another works the Evidences of Chris-
tianitys^'^ Paley has taken up the subject at the
point where this volume leaves its has con-
tinued the argument by pointing out the ante-
cedent probability that the GoDs Whom nature
declareSs should care for and reveal Himself to
His creatures ; and then proceeding to show
how cogent is the evidence to prove that He has
actually revealed Himself to us in Jesus Christ.

Editor.

NATURAL THEOLOGY,

CHAPTER L

STATE OF THE AEGUMENT.

In crossing a heathy suppose 1 pitched my foot
against a stoney and were ashed how the stone
came to be there ; I might possibly answer^ that^
for anything I knew to the contrary^ it had lain
there for ever; nor would it perhaps be very easy
to show the absurdity of this answer.^ But sup-
pose I had found a ivatch upon the ground^ and
it should be inquired how the watch happened to
be in that place ; I should hardly think of the
answer which I had before given^ that, for any-
thing I knew, the watch might have always

^ The history of the stone may be read now by the light
of Geology: it could not have lain there for ever. But
this does not affect the argument. — [Ed.]

10

NATUEAL THEOLOGY.

been there. Yet why should not this answer
serve for the watch as well as for the stone?
why is it not as admissible in the second case as
in the first ? For this reason^ and for no other^
viz. that^ when we come to inspect the waichj
we perceive (what we could not discover in the
stjone) that it^seveml jparts are framed and put
together JFonja.^pu^ e. g. that they are so
formed and adjusted as to produce motion^ and
that motion so regulated as to point out the
hour of the day ; that^ if the different parts had
been differently shaped from what they are^ of a
different size from what they are^ or placed after
any other manner^ or in any other order^ than
that in which they are placed^ either no motion
at all would have been carried on in the machine,
or none which would have answered the use that
is now served by it. To reckon up a few of
the plainest of these parts, and of their offices,
all tending to one result : — We see a cylindrical
box containing a coiled elastic spring, which, by
its endeavour to relax itself, turns round the
box. We next observe a flexible chain (artifi-
cially wrought for the sake of flexure), com-
municating the action of the spring from the
box to the fusee. We then find a series of
wheels, the teeth of which catch in, and apply
to, each other, conducting the motion from the

STATE OF THE ARGUMENT.

11

fusee to the balance^ and from the balance to
the pointer ; and at the same time, by the size
and shape of those wheels, so regulating that
motion as to terminate in causing an index, by
an equable and measured progression, to pass
over a given space in a given time. We take
notice that the wheels are made of brass in
order to keep them from rust; the springs of
steel, no other metal being so elastic ; that over
the face of the watch there is placed a glass, a
material employed in no other part of the work,
but in the room of which, if there had been any
other than a transparent substance, the hour
could not be seen without opening the case.
This mechanism being observed (it requires in-
deed an examination of the instrument, and per-
haps some previous knowledge of the subject, to
perceive and understand it ; but being once, as
we have said, observed and understood), the in-
ference, we think, is inevitable, that thp watch-
^ must have ^ad a maker : that there must have
existed, at some time, and at some place or other,
an artificer or artificers, who formed it for the
purpose which we find it actually to answer;
who comprehended its construction, and designed
its use.

I. Nor would it, I apprehend, weaken the^
conclusion, that we had never seen a watch

12

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

^

made ; “tkat we had never known an artist capable

of making one ; that we were altogether incapa-
ble of executing such a piece of workmanship
ourselves^ or of understanding in what manner it
was performed ; all this being no more than
what is true of some exquisite remains of ancient
art^ of some lost arts^ and^ to the generality of
mankind^ of the more curious productions of
modern manufacture. Does one man in a mil-
lion know how oval frames are turned ? Igno-
rance of this kind exalts our opinion of the
unseen and unknown artistes skilly if he be
unseen and unknown^, but raises no doubt in
our minds of the existence and agency of such
an artist^ at some former time^ and in some
place or other. Nor can I perceive that it varies
at all the inference^ whether the question arise
concerning a human agent, or concerning an
agent of a different species, or an agent possess-
ing, in some respects, a different nature.

II. Neither, s^ondly, would it invalidate our
conclusion, 4fe^Hhe watch sometimes went
wrong, or seldom went exactly right..

The purpose of the machinery, the design, and
the designer, might be evident, and in the case
supposed would be evident, in whatever way we
accounted for the irregularity of the movement^
or whether we could account for it or not. It

STATE OF THE AKGUMENT.

13

is not necessary that a machine be perfect^ in
order to show with what design it was made :
still less necessary^ where the only question
is^ whether it were made with any design
at all.

III. Nor^ thirdly, would it bring any uncer-
tainty into the argument, if there were a few
parts of the watch concerning which we could not
discover, or had not yet discovered, in what man-
ner they conduced to the general effect; or even
some parts, concerning which we could not ascer-
tain, whether they conduced to that effect in any
manner whatever. For, as to the first branch of
the case ; if by the loss, or disorder, or decay of
the parts in question, the movement of the watch
were found in fact to be stopped, or disturbed, or
retarded, no doubt would remain in our minds as
to the utility or intention of these parts, although
we should be unable to investigate the manner
according to which, or the connexion by which,
the ultimate effect depended upon their action or
assistance ; and the more complex is the machine,
the more likely is this obscurity to arise. Then,
as to the second thing supposed ; namely, that
there were parts which might be spared, without
prejudice to the movement of the watch, and
that we had proved this by experiment, — these
superfluous parts, even if w’e were completely

14

NATURAL THEOLOGY,

assured that they were such^ would not vacate
the reasoning which we had instituted concern-
ing other parts. The indication of contrivance
remained^ with respect to them^ nearly as it was
before.

IV. Nor^ fourthly^ would any man in his
senses think the existence of the watch^ with its
various machinery^ accounted for^ by being told
that it was one out of possible combinations of
material forms ; that whatever he had found in
the place where he found the watch, must have
contained some internal configuration or other ;
and that this configuration might be the struc-
ture now exhibited, viz. of the works of a watch,
as well as a different structure.

V. Nor, fifthly, would it yield his inquiry
more satisfaction to be answered, ^that there
existed in things a principle of order, which
had disposed the parts of the watch into their
present form and situation. He never knew a
watch made by the principle of order ; nor can
he even form to himself an idea of what is
meant by a principle of order, distinct from
the intelligence of the watchmaker.

VI. Sixthly, he would be surprised to hear
that the mechanism of the watch was no proof
of contrivance, only a motive to induce the
mind to think so.

STATE OF THE ARGUMENT.

15

VII. And not less surprised to be informed^
that the watch in his hand was nothing more
than the result of the laws of metallic nature.
It is a perversion of language to assign any
law as the efficient^ operative cause of any-
thing. A law presupposes an agent this is
only the mode^ according to which an agent
proceeds ; it implies a power ; for it is the order
according to which that power acts. Without
this agents without this power, which are both
distinct from itself, the law does nothing, is
nothing. The expression, the law of metallic
nature,^^ may sound strange and harsh to a
philosophic ear ; but it seems quite as justifiable
as some others which are more familiar to him,
such as the law of vegetable nature,^’ the
law of animal nature,^*^ or indeed as the law
of nature in general, when assigned as the
cause of phenomena, in exclusion of agency and
power ; or when it is substituted into the place
of these.

VIII. Neither, lastly, would our observer be
driven out of his conclusion, or from his con-
fidence in its truth, by being told that he knew
nothing at all about the matter. He knows
enough for his argument : he knows the utility
of the end; he knows the subserviency and
adaptation of the means to the end. These

16

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

points being known^ his ignorance of other
points^ his doubts concerning other points^ affect
not the certainty of his reasoning. The con-
sciousness of knowing little need not beget a
distrust of that which he does know.

STATE OF THE AllGUMENT.

ir

CHAPTER II.

STATE OF THE ARGUMENT^ CONTINUED

Suppose^ in the next place^ that the person \
who found the watch should^ after some time^
discover that^ in addition to all the properties
which he had hitherto observed in it, it pos-
sessed the unexpected property of producing,
in the course of its movement, another watch
like itself (the thing is conceivable) ; that it
contained within it a mechanism, a system of
parts, a mould for instance, or a complex adjust-
ment of lathes, files, and other tools, evidently
and separately calculated for this purpose ; let
us inquire, what effect ought such a discover}
to have upon his former conclusion.

I. The first effect would be to increase his
admiration of the contrivance, and his convic-
tion of the consummate skill of the contriver.
Whether he regarded the object of the con-
trivance, the distinct apparatus, the intricate,

c

18

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

yet in many parts intelligible mechanism, by
which it was carried on, he would perceive, in
this new observation, nothing but an additional
reason for doing what he had already done—for
referring the construction of the watch to design,
and to supreme art. If that construction with-
out this property, or which is the same thing,
before this property had been noticed, proved
intention and art to have been employed about
it ; still more strong would the proof appear,
when he came to the knowledge of this fur-
ther property, the crown and perfection of all
the rest.

II. He would reflect, that though the watch
before him were, in some sense, the maker of the
watch, which was fabricated in the course of its
movements, yet it was in a very different sense
from that in which a carpenter, for instance, is
the maker of a chair; the author of its con-
trivance, the cause of the relation of its parts
to their use. With respect to these, the first
watch was no cause at all to the second : in no
such sense as this was it the author of the
constitution and order, either of the parts which
the new watch contained, or of the parts by the
aid and instrumentality of which it was pro-
duced. We might possibly say, but with great
latitude of expression, that a stream of water

STATE OF THE ARGUMENT.

19

ground corn ; but no latitude of expression
would allow us to say^ no stretch of conjecture
could lead us to think, that the stream of water
built the mill, though it were too ancient for
us to know who the builder was. What the
stream of water does in the affair, is neither
more nor less than this; by the application of
an unintelligent impulse to a mechanism pre-
viously arranged, arranged independently of it,
and arranged by intelligence, an effect is pro-
duced, viz. the corn is ground. But the effect
results from the arrangement. The force of
the stream cannot be said to be the cause or
author of the effect, still less of the arrange-
ment. Understanding and plan in the forma-
tion of the mill were not the less necessary,
for any share which the water has in grinding
the corn : yet is this share the same as that
which the watch would have contributed to the
production of the new watch, upon the supposi-
tion assumed in the last section. Therefore,
III. Though it be now no longer probable,
that the individual watch, which our observer
had found, was made immediately by the hand
of an artificer, yet doth not this alteration in
anywise affect the inference that an artificer
had been originally employed and concerned in
the production. The argument from design
c 2

20

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

vemains as it was. Marks of design and con-
trivance are no more accounted for now than
they were before. In the same thing we may
ask for the cause of different properties. Wc
may ask for the cause of the colour of a body,
of its hardness^ of its heat; and these causes
may be all different. We are now asking for
the cause of that subserviency to a use^ that
relation to an eiid^ which we have remarked in
the watch before us. No answer is given to
this question^ by telling us that a preceding
watch produced it. There cannot be design
without a designer ; . contrivance without a con-
triver ; order without choice ; arrangement,
without anything capable of arranging; sub-
serviency and relation to a purpose, without
that which could intend a purpose ; means suit-
able to an end, and executing their office in
accomplishing that end, without the end ever
having been contemplated, or the means accom-
modated to it. Arrangement, disposition of
parts, subserviency of means to an end, relation
of instruments to a use, imply the presence of
intelligence and mind. No one, therefore, can
rationally believe that the insensible, inanimate
watch, from which the watch before us issued,
was the proper cause of the mechanism we so
much admire in it — could be truly said to have

STATE OF THE ARGUMENT.

21

constructed the instrument^ disposed its parts,
assigned their ofRce, determined their order,
action, and mutual dependency, combined their
several motions into one result, and that also
a result connected with the utilities of other
beings. All these properties, therefore, are as
much unaccounted for as they were before.

IV. Nor is anything gained by running the
difficulty farther back, i. e., by supposing the
watch before us to have been produced from
another watch, that from a former, and so on
indefinitely. Our going back ever so far brings
us no nearer to the least degree of satisfaction
upon the subject. Contrivance is still unac-
counted for. We still want a contriver. A
designing mind is neither supplied by this sup-
position, nor dispensed with. If the difficulty
were diminished the further we went back, by
going back indefinitely we might exhaust it.
And this is the only case to which this sort of
reasoning applies. Where there is a tendency,
or, as we increase the number of terms, a con-
tinual approach towards a limit, there, by sup-
posing the number of terms to be what is called
infinite, we may conceive the limit to be
attained ; but where there is no such tendency,
or approach, nothing is effected by lengthening
the series. There is no difference as to the

22

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

point in question (whatever there may be as to
many points)^ between one series and another ;
between a series which is finite^ and a series
which is infinite. A chain^ composed of an
infinite number of links^ can no more support
itself^ than a chain composed of a finite number
of links. And of this we are assured (though
we never can have tried the experiment)^ be-
cause^ by increasing the number of links^ from
ten for instance to a hundred^ from a hundred
to a thousand^ &c. we make not the smallest
approach^ we observe not the smallest tendency^
tow;ards self-support. There is no difference in
this respect (yet there may be a great difference
in several respects) between a chain of a greater
or less lengthy between one chain and another^
between one that is finite and one that is infinite.
This very much resembles the case before us.
The machine which we are inspecting demon-
strates^ by its construction^ contrivance and
design. Contrivance must have had a con-
triver; design^ a designer; whether the machine \
immediately proceeded from another machine
or not. That circumstance alters not the case.
That other machine may^ in like manner^ have
proceeded from a former machine : nor does that
alter the case; contrivance must have had a
contriver. That former one from one preceding

STATE OF THE ARGUMENT.

23

it : no alteration still ; a contriver is still neces-
sary. No tendency is perceived^ no approach
towards a diminution of this necessity. It is
the same with any and every succession of these
machines ; a succession of ten^ of a hundred^ of
a thousand ; with one series, as with another ;
a series which is finite, as with a series which
is infinite. In whatever other respects they
may differ, in this they do not. In all equally,
contrivance and design are unaccounted for.

The question is not simply. How came the
first watch into existence? which question, it
may be pretended, is done away by supposing
the series of watches thus produced from one
another to have been infinite, and consequently
to have had no such first, for which it was
necessary to provide a cause. This, perhaps,
would have been nearly the state of the ques-
tion, if nothing had been before us but an
unorganized, unmechanized substance, without
mark or indication of contrivance. It might
be difficult to show that such substance could
not have existed from eternity, either in succes-
sion (if it were possible, which I think it is not,
for unorganized bodies to spring from one
another), or by individual perpetuity. But
that is not the question now. To suppose it
to be so, is to suppose that it made no difference

24

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

whether we had found a watch or a stone. As
it is^ the metaphysics of that question have no
place; for, in the watch which we are examin-
ing, are seen contrivance, design; an end, a
purpose ; means for the end, adaptation to the j
purpose. And the question which irresistibly
presses upon our thoughts is, whence this con-
trivance and design ? The thing required is the 1
intending mind, the adapting hand, the intelli- p
gence by which that hand was directed. This"!
question, this demand, is not shaken off, by I
increasing a number or succession of substances, 1
destitute of these properties ; nor the more, by
increasing that number to infinity. If it be
said, that, upon the supposition of one watch
being produced from another in the course of
that other^s movements, and by means of the
mechanism within it, we have a cause for the
watch in my hand, viz. the watch from which it
proceeded. I d^ny, that for the design, the
contrivance, the suitableness of means to an end,
the adaptation of instruments to a use (all which
we discover in the watch), we have any cause
whatever. It is in vain, therefore, to assign al
series of such causes, or to allege that a series!
may be carried back to infinity ; for I do not ^
admit that we have yet any cause at all of the
phenomena, still less any series of causes either

STATE OF THE ARGUMENT.

25

finite or infinite. Here is contrivance, but no
contriver ; proofs of design, but no designer.

V. Our observer would further also reflect,
that the maker of the watch before him was, in
truth and reality, the maker of every watch
produced from it; there being no difference
(except that the latter manifests a more exqui-
site skill) between the making of another watch
with his own hands, by the mediation of files,
lathes, chisels, &c. and the disposing, fixing,
and inserting of these instruments, or of others
equivalent to them, in the body of the watch
already made, in such a manner as to form a
new watch in the course of the movements
which he had given to the old one. It is only
working by one set of tools instead of another.

The conclusion which the first examination
of the watch, of its works, construction and
movement, suggested, was, that it must have
had, for the cause and author of that con-
struction, an artificer who understood its me- 3
chanism and designed its use. This conclusion ^
is invincible. A second examination presents
us with a new discovery. The watch is found,
in the course of its moTement, to produce i
another watch, similar to itself; and not only
so, but we perceive in it a system of organiza-
tion, separately calculated for that purpose.

26

NATURAL THEOLOaY.

What effect would this discovery have^ or ought
it to have^ upon our former inference ? What,
as hath already been said, but to increase,
beyond measure, our admiration of the skill,
which had been employed in the formation of
such a machine ? Or shall it, instead of this, all
at once turn us round to an opposite conclusion,
viz. that no art or skill whatever has been con-
cerned in the business, although all other evi-
dences of art and skill remain as they were, and
this last and supreme piece of art be now added
to the rest ? Can this be maintained without
absurdity ? Yet this is atheism.

APPLICATION OF THE AKQUMENT.

27

CHAPTER III.

APPLICATION OF THE ARGUMENT.

This is atheism : for every indication of con-
trivance^ every manifestation of design, which
existed in the watch, exists in the works of
nature ; with the difference, on the side of
nature, of being greater and more, and that
in a degree which exceeds all computation. I
mean that the contrivances of nature surpass
the contrivances of art, in the complexity,
subtlety, and curiosity of the mechanism; and
still more, if possible, do they go beyond them
in number and variety ; yet, in a multitude of
cases, are not less evidently mechanical, not
less evidently contrivances, not less evidently
accommodated to their end, or suited to their
office, than are the most perfect productions of
human ingenuity.

I know no better method of introducing so
large a subject, than that of comparing a single

28

NATURAT. THEOLOGY.

thing with a single thing; an eye^ for example,
with a telescope. As far as the examination
of the instrument goes, there is precisely the
same proof that the eye was made for vision,
as there is that the telescope was made for
assisting it. They are made upon the same
principles ; both being adjusted to the laws by
which the transmission and refraction of rays
of light are regulated. I speak not of the origin
of the laws themselves; but such laws being
fixed, the construction, in both cases, is adapted
to them. For instance; these laws require, in
order to produce the same effect, that the rays
of light, in passing from water into the eye,
should be refracted by a more convex surface
than when it passes out of air into the eye.
Accordingly we find that the eye of a fish, in
that part of it called the crystalline lens, is much
rounder than the eye of terrestrial animals.
What plainer manifestation of design can there
be than this difference? What could a mathe-
matical-instrument-maker have done more, to
show his knowledge of this principle, his appli-
cation of that knowledge, his suiting of his
means to his end; I will not say to display the
compass or excellence of his skill and art, for
in these all comparison is indecorous, but to
testify counsel choice consideration purpose?

APPLICATION OF THE ARGUMENT.

29

To some it may appear a difference sufficient
to destroy all similitude between the eye and

lens; e, the vitreous humour filling the ball of the eye; ////, the
retina ; g g, the optic nerve ; h h, two of the straight muscles for raising
and depressing the eye.

the telescope^ that the one is a perceiving organ,
the other an un perceiving instrument. The
fact is that they are both instruments. And,
as to the mechanism, at least as to mechanism
being employed, and even as to the kind of it,
this circumstance varies not the analogy at
all. For, observe what the constitution of the

30

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

eye is. It is necessary^ in order to produce
distinct vision^ that an image or picture of the
object be formed at the bottom of the eye^ i.e.
on the Retina, or expansion of the nerve of

SECTION OE THE EYE, OF THE NATURAL SIZE,

showing the same parts in a shaded manner.

vision^ which communicates the impression to
the brain. Whence this necessity arises, or
how the picture is connected with the sensation,
or contributes to it, it may be difficult, nay we
will confess, if you please, impossible for us to

APPLICATION OP THE ARGUMENT.

31

search out. But the present question is not
concerned in the inquiry. It may be true that,
in this and in other instances, we trace mechan-
ical contrivance a certain way; and that then we
come to something which is not mechanical, or
which is inscrutable. But this affects not the
certainty of our investigation, as far as we have
gone. The difference between an animal
and an automatic statue consists in this, —
that, in the animal, we trace the mechanism
to a certain point, and then we are stopped ;
either the mechanism becoming too subtle for
our discernment, or something else beside the
known laws of mechanism taking place: where-
as, in the automaton, for the comparatively few
motions of which it is capable, we trace the
mechanism throughout. But, up to the limit,
the reasoning is a,s clear and certain in the one
case as in the other. In the example before
us, it is a matter of certainty, because it is a
matter which experience and observation de-
monstrate, that the formation of an image at
the bottom of the eye is necessary to perfect
vision. The image itself can be shown. What-
ever affects the distinctness of the image affects
the distinctness of vision. The formation then
of such an image being necessary (no matter
how) to the sense of sight, and to the exercise

32

NATUEAL THEOLOGY.

of that sense, the apparatus by which it is formed
is constructed and put together, not only with
infinitely more art, but upon the self-same
principles of art, as in the telescope or the
camera obscura. The perception arising from
the image may be laid out of the question; for
the production of the image, these are instru-
ments of the same kind. The end is the same,
the means are the same. The purpose in both
is alike ; the contrivance for accomplishing
that purpose is in both alike. The lenses of the
telescope, and the humours of the eye, bear a
resemblance to one another, in their figure,
their position, and in their power over the rays
of light, viz. in bringing each pencil to a point
at the right distance from the lens; namely, in
the eye, at the exact place where the membrane
is spread to receive it. How is it possible,
under circumstances of such close affinity, and
under the operation of equal evidence, to exclude
contrivance from the one; yet to acknowledge
the proof of contrivance having been employed,
as the plainest and clearest of all propositions,
in the other?

The resemblance between the two cases is
still more accurate, and obtains in more points
than we have yet represented, or than we are,
on the first view of the subject, aware of. Ir

APPLICATION OF THE ARGUMENT.

33

dioptric telescopes there is an imperfection of
this nature. , Pencils of lights in passing
through glass lenses^ are separated into dif-
ferent colours^ thereby tinging the object^
■especially the edges of it^ as if it were viewed
through a prism. To correct this inconve-
nience had been long a desideratum in the
urt. At last it came into the mind of a saga-
cious optician to inquire how this matter was
managed in the eye; in which there was
exactly the same difficulty to contend with as
in the telescope. His observation taught him
that in the eye the evil was cured by combining
lenses composed of different substances^ i. e.,
of substances which possessed different re-
fracting powers. Our artist borrowed thence
his hint, and produced a correction of the
defect by imitating, in glasses made from
different materials, the effects of the different
humours through which the rays of light pass
before they reach the bottom of the eye.
Could this be in the eye without purpose,
which suggested to the optician the only effec-
tual means of attaining that purpose ?

But further, there are other points not so
much, perhaps, of strict resemblance between
the two, as of superiority of the eye over the
telescope, yet of a superiority which, being

D

34

NATUEAL THEOLOGY.

founded in the laws that regulate both, may
furnish topics of fair and just comparison.
Two things were wanted to the eye which were
not wanted (at least in the same degree) to the
telescope ; and these were the adaptation of
the organ ; first, to different degrees of light ;
and secondly, to the vast diversity of distance
at which objects are viewed by the naked eye,
viz., from a few inches to as many miles.
These difficulties present not themselves to the
maker of the telescope. He wants all the ligfei
he can get, and he never directs his instru-
ment to objects near at hand. In the eye, both
these cases were to be provided for ; and for
the purpose of providing for them a subtle and
appropriate mechanism is introduced.

I. In order to exclude excess of light, when
it is excessive, and to render objects visible
under obscurer degrees of it, when no more
can be had, the hole or aperture in the eye,
through which the light enters, is so formed
as to contract or dilate itself for the purpose of
admitting a greater or less number of rays at
the same time. The chamber of the eye is a
camera obscura, which, when the light is too
small, can enlarge its opening; when too
strong, can again contract it ; and that without
any other assistance than that of its own

APPLICATION OF THE ARGUMENT.

35

exquisite macliiiiery. It is self-adjusting in
the following way : — The impression^ which a
varying degree of intensity of light makes on the
retina^ is conveyed to the brain by the nerve of
vision ; and thence^ as a consequence of this
stimulus^ a reflex current of nerve force is

THE IRIS,

showing the arrangement of the circular and radiating fibres.

emitted^ and conveyed by appropriate nerve-
fibres to the muscular ring or iris^ which^ by
its action^, can either contract or expand the
pupil. It is further^ also^ in the human subject
to be observed^ that this hole in the eye^ which
we call the pupil^ under all its different dimen-
sions^ retains its exact circular shape. This is
a structure extremely artificial. Let an artist
D 2

36

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

only try to execute tlie same ; he will find that
his threads and strings must be disposed with
great consideration and contrivance to make a
circle which shall continually change its diameter,
yet preserve its form. This is done in the eye
by an application of fibres, i. e., of contractile
strings, similar in their position and action to
what an artist would endeavour to procure,
and must employ if he had the same piece of
workmanship to perform.

II. The second difiiculty which has been
stated was the suiting of the same organ to
the perception of objects that lie near at hand,
within a few inches, we will suppose, of the
^ye, and of objects which are placed at a
considerable distance from it, that, for example,
of as many furlongs (I speak in both cases of
the distance at which distinct vision can be
exercised). Now this, according to the princi-
ples of optics, that is, according to the laws by
which the transmission of light is regulated
(and these laws are fixed), could not be done
without the organ itself undergoing an altera-
tion, and receiving an adjustment, that might
correspond with the exigency of the case, that
is to say, with the different inclination to one
another under which the rays of light reached
it. Eays issuing from points placed at a small

APPLICATION OF THE AEGUMENT.

87

distance from the eye^ and which consequently
must enter the eye in a spreading or diverging
order^ cannot^ by the same optical instrument
in the same state^ be brought to a point, i. e.
be made to form an image in the same place,,
with rays proceeding from objects situated at a
much greater distance, and which rays arrive
at the eye in directions nearly (and physically
speaking) parallel. It requires a rounder lens
to do it. The point of concourse behind the
lens must fall critically upon the retina, or the
vision is confused ; yet, other things remaining
the same, this point, by the immutable proper-
ties of light, is carried further back when the
rays proceed from a near object, than when
they are sent from one that is remote. A
person who was using an optical instrument
would manage this matter by changing, as the
occasion required, his lens or his telescope, or
by adjusting the distance of his glasses with
his hand or his screw; but how is it to be
managed in the eye ? What the alteration
was, or in what part of the eye it took place, ,
or by what means it was effected (for if the
known laws which govern the refraction of
light be maintained, some alteration in the
state of the organ there must be), had long
formed a subject of inquiry and conjecture...

38

NATUEAL THEOLOGY.

The change^ though sufficient for the purpose,
is so minute as to elude ordinary observation.
The adjustment to distance is most likely de-
pendent on the varying convexity of the lens,
which is determined by the pressure to which
it is subjected, through the indirect agency of
a special muscular contrivance. These changes
in the eye vary its power over the rays of light
in such a manner and degree as to produce
exactly the effect which is wanted, viz. the
formation of an image u^on the retma, whether
the rays come to the eye in a state of diver-
gency, which is the case when the object is
}}ear to the eye, or come parallel to one another,
which is the case when the object is placed at
a distance. Can anything be more decisive of
contrivance than this is ? The most secret
laws of optics must have been known to the
author of a structure endowed with such a
capacity of change. It is as though an opti-
cian, when he had a nearer object to view,
should rectify his instrument by putting in
another glass, at the same time dr iwing out
also his tube to a different length.

Observe a new-born child first lifting up its
eyelids. What does the opening of the curtain
discover ? The anterior part of two pellucid
globes, which, when they come to be examined.

APPLICATION OP THE ARGUMENT.

39

are found to be constructed upon strictly optical
principles ; tbe self-same principles upon which
we ourselves construct optical instruments. We
find them perfect for the purpose of forming an
image by refraction^ composed of parts executing
different offices ; one part having fulfilled its
office upon the pencil of light, delivering it over
to the action of another part; that to a third, and
so onward : the progressive action depending
for its success upon the nicest and minutest
adjustment of the parts concerned ; yet, these
parts so in fact adjusted as to produce, not by
a simple action or effect, but by a combination
of actions and effects, the result which is ulti-
mately wanted. And forasmuch as this organ
would have to operate under different circum-
stances, with strong degrees of light, and with
weak degrees, upon near objects, and upon
remote ones, these differences demanded, ac-
cording to the laws by which the transmission
of light is regulated, a corresponding diversity
of structure ; that the aperture, for example,
through which the light passes, should be
larger or less; the lenses rounder or flatter, or
that their distance from the tablet, upon which
the picture is delineated, should be shortened
or lengthened : this, I say, being the case, and
the difficulty to which the eye was to bo

40

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

adapted^ we find its several parts capable of
being occasionally changed^ and a most artificial
apparatus provided to produce that change.
This is far beyond the common regulator of a
watch, which requires the touch of a foreign
hand to set it ; but it is not altogether unlike
Harrison^s contrivance for making a watch
regulate itself, by inserting within it a ma-^
chinery, which, by the artful use of the different
expansion of metals, preserves the equability
of the motion under all the various tempera-
tures of heat and cold in which the instrument
may happen to be placed. The ingenuity of
this last contrivance has been justly praised.
Shall ^ therefore, a structure which dijffers from
it, chiefly by surpassing it, be accounted no
contrivance at all ? or, if it be a contrivance,,
that it is without a contriver !

But this, though much, is not the whole ; by
different species of animals the faculty we are
describing is possessed, in degrees suited to
the different range of vision which their mode
of life, and of procuring their food, requires.
Birds ^ for instance, in general, procure thpir
food by means of their beak ; and, the distance
between the eye and the point of the beak
being small, it becomes necessary that they
should have the power of seeing very near

APPLICATION OP THE ARGUMENT.

41

objects distinctly. On tbe other hand, from
being often elevated much above the ground,
living in air, and moving through it with great
velocity, they require, for their safety, as well
as for assisting them in descrying their prey, a
power of seeing at a great distance ; a power
of which, in birds of rapine, surprising examples
are given. The fact accordingly is, that two
peculiarities are found in the eyes of birds,
both tending to facilitate the change upon
which the adjustment of the eye to different
distances depends. The one is a bony, yet, in
most species, a flexible rim or hoop, surround-
ing the broadest part of the eye ; which, con-
fining the action of the muscles to that part,
increases the effect of their lateral pressure
upon the orb, by which pressure its axis is
elongated for the purpose of looking at very
near objects. The other is a vascular mem-
brane, called the marsupium, adapted to alter
the position of the crystalline lens, and to fit
the same eye for the viewing of near or distant
objects. By these means the eyes of birds can
pass from one extreme to another of their scale
of adjustment, with more ease and readiness
than the eyes of other animals.

This property of adjustment in birds requires
additional space ; therefore the ant ero -posterior

42

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

axis of tlie eye is very mucli elongated^ and the
aqueous fluid in front of the lens is much more
abundant : thus^ the pressure exerted operates
both by pressing the cornea forwards, and
thereby rendering it more conical, and also by
pressing the lens backwards. The marsupium,
or pecten, is an erectile, vascular organ, varying
in its dimensions according to the quantity ot
blood it contains. Its position in the interior
of the vitreous humour imparts to it the
property, when distended, of forcing the lens
forwards : it is covered with pigment.

The eyes o? fishes also, compared with those
of terrestrial animals, exhibit certain distinc-
tions of structure, adapted to their state and
element. We have already observed upon the
figure of the crystalline lens compensating by its
roundness the density of the medium through
which the light passes. To which we have
to add, that the eyes of fish, in their natural
and indolent state, appear to be adjusted to
near objects, in this respect differing from the
human eye, as well as those of quadrupeds and
birds. The ordinary shape of the fishes eye
being in a much higher degree convex than
that of land-animals, a corresponding difference
attends its muscular conformation, viz. that it
is throughout calculated for fiattening the eye.

APPLICATION OF THE ARGUMENT.

43

The iris also in the eyes of fish does not
admit of contraction. This is a great difference,
of which the probable reason is, that the
diminished light in water is never too strong
for the retina. The spherical form of the denat
crystalline lens necessitates its approximation
to the back of the eye, in order that the rays
of light may be brought to a focus on the retina.
The aqueous humour being useless, and the
vitreous humour almost so, in deflecting the rays
of light after passing through water, are both
limited in quantity; consequently the antero-
posterior diameter of the eye-ball is flattened.
Further its supporting membrane, the sclerotic,
is strengthened by the presence of cartilaginous
plates, and in some of the large fishes converted
into bone, in order to resist the effect of lateral
pressure, and consequent alteration in the form
of the globe. The pupil is large and generally
motionless, and true eyelids are absent.

In the eely which has to work its head through
sand and gravel, the roughest and hardest sub-
stances, there is placed before the eye, and at
some distance from it, a transparent, horny,
convex case or covering, which, without ob-
structing the sight, defends the organ. To
such an animal, could anything be more wanted,
or more useful?

44

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

Thus, in comparing the eyes of different kinds
of animals, we see, in their resemblances and
distinctions, one general plan laid down, and
that plan varied with the varying exigences to
which it is to be applied.

There is one property, however, commonly
met with ; namely, that the optic nerve enters
the bottom of the eye, not in the centre or
middle, but a little on one side; not in the point
where the axis of the eye meets the retina, but
between that point and the nose. The differ-
ence which this makes is, that no part of an
object is unperceived by both eyes at the same
time. The spot at which the optic nerve
spreads itself to form the retina is the only
point in this membrane which is insensible to
light. This is about one tenth of an inch to
the inner side of the axis of the eye, and there-
fore it does not interfere with vision.

In considering vision as achieved by the
means of an image formed at the bottom of the
eye, we can never reflect without wonder upon
the smallness, yet correctness, of the picture,
the subtlety of the touch, the fineness of the
lines. A landscape of five or six square leagues
is brought into a space of half an inch diameter;
yet the multitude of objects which it contains
are all preserved ; are all discriminated in their

APPLICATION OP THE ARGUMENT.

45

magnitudes^ positions, figures, colours. Tlie
prospect from Hampstead -hill is compressed
into the compass of a sixpence, yet circum-
stantially represented. A stage coach, travel-
ling at its ordinary speed for half an hour, passes,
in the eye, only over one twelfth of an inch, yet
is this change of place in the image distinctly
perceived throughout its whole progress ; for
it is only by means of that perception that the
motion of the coach itself is made sensible to
the eye. If anything can abate our admiration
of the smallness of the visual tablet compared
with the extent of vision, it is a reflection, which
the view of nature leads us every hour to make,
viz. that, in the hands of the Creator, great and
little are nothing.

Sturmius held, that the examination of the
eye was a cure for atheism. Beside that
conformity to optical principles which its in-
ternal constitution displays, and which alone
amounts to a manifestation of intelligence
having been exerted in the structure; besides
this, which forms, no doubt, the leading
character of the organ, there is to be seen,
in everything belonging to it and about it, an
extraordinary degree of care, an anxiety for its
preservation, due, if we may so speak, to its value
and its tenderness. It is lodged in a strong,

46

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

deep^ bony socket^ composed by the junction
of seven different bones^ hollowed out at their
edges. In some few species^ as that of the
coatimondi^ the orbit is not bony throughout ;
but whenever this is the case, the upper, which
is the deficient part, is supplied by a cartilagi-
nous ligament ; a substitution which shows the
same care. Within this socket it is embedded
in fat, of all animal substances the best adapted
both to its repose and motion. It is sheltered
by the eyebrows ; an arch of hair, which, like
a thatched penthouse, prevents the sweat and
moisture of the forehead from running down
into it.

But it is still better protected by its lid. Of
the superficial parts of the animal frame, I
know none which, in its oflSce and structure, is
more deserving of attention than the eyelid.
It defends the eye ; it wipes it ; it closes it in
sleep; and its delicate texture is never en-
cumbered with fat. Are there in any work of
art whatever, purposes more evident than those
which this organ fulfils ? or an apparatus for
executing those purposes more intelligible, more
appropriate, or more mechanical ? If it be over-
looked by the observer of nature, it can only
be because it is obvious and familiar. This is
a tendency to be guarded against. We pass

APPLICATION OP TJHE ARGUMENT.

4.7

by tlie plainest instances^ whilst we are explor-
ing those which are rare and curious ; by which
conduct of the understanding, we sometimes
negject the strongest observations, being taken
up with others, which, though more recondite
and scientific, are, as solid arguments, entitled
to much less consideration.

In order to keep the eye moist and clean
(which qualities are necessary to its brightness
and its use), a wash is constantly supplied by
a secretion for the purpose; and the superfluous
brine is conveyed to the nose through a perfo-
ration in the bone as large as a goose-quill;
or, more properly speaking, along two capillary
tubes, one from either eyelid, which enter a
duct, lodged in a canal passing through the
bone. When once the fluid has entered the
nose, it spreads itself upon the inside of the
nostril, and is evaporated by the current of
warm air, which, in the course of respiration,
is continually passing over it. Can any pipe,
or outlet, for carrying off the waste liquor from
a dye-house or a distillery, be more mechanical
than this is ? It is easily perceived that the
eye must want moisture : but could the want
of the eye generate the gland which produces
the tear, or bore the hole by which it is dis*
charged, — a hole through a bone ?

48

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

It is observable^ that this provision is not
found in fish^ — the element in which they live
supplying a constant lotion to the eye.

It were^ however, injustice to dismiss .the
eye as a piece of mechanism, without noticing
that most exquisite of all contrivances, the
nictitating membrane, which is found in the eyes
of birds and in a rudimentary form in those
of many quadrupeds. Its use is to sweep the
eye, which it does in an instant, to spread
over it the lachrymal humour ; to defend it
also from sudden injuries; yet not totally,
when drawn upon the pupil, to shut out the
light. The commodiousness with which it
lies folded up in the upper corner of the eye,
ready for use and action, and the quickness
with which it executes its purpose, are proper-
ties known and obvious to every observer ;
but what is equally admirable, though not
quite so obvious, is the combination of two
kinds of substance, muscular and elastic, and
of two different kinds of action, by which the
motion of this membrane is performed. It is
not, as in ordinary cases, by the action of two
antagonist muscles, one pulling forward and
the other backward, that a reciprocal change is
effected ; but it is thus : the membrane itself
is an elastic substance, capable of being drawn

APPLICATION OF THE ARGUMENT.

49

out by force like a piece of elastic gum_, and by
its own elasticity returning, when tbe force is
removed, to its former position. Such being
its nature, in order to fit it up for its office, it
is connected by a tendon or thread with a
muscle in the back part of the eye : this tendon
or thread, though strong, is so fine as not to
obstruct the sight, even when it passes across
it j and the muscle itself, being placed in the
hack part of the eye, derives from its situation
the advantage, not only of being secure, but of
being out of the way ; which it would hardly
have been in any position that could be
assigned to it in the anterior part of the orb,
where its function lies. When the muscle
behind the eye contracts, the membrane, by
means of the communicating thread, is instantly
drawn over the fore part of it. When the
muscular contraction (which is a positive, and,
most probably, a voluntary effort) ceases to be
exerted, the elasticity alone of the membrane
brings it back again to its position. Does
not this, if anything can do it, bespeak an
artist, master of his work, acquainted with his
materials ? Of a thousand other things,’^ say
the French academicians, we perceive not the
contrivance, because we understand them only
by the effects, of which we know not the

E

50

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

causes ; but we Here treat of a macbme, all the
parts whereof are visible, and which need only
be looked upon to discover the reasons of its
motion and action.’’^

In the configuration of the muscle which,
though placed behind the eye, draws the nicti-
tating membrane over the eye, there is what
the authors, just now quoted, deservedly call a
marvellous mechanism. In the cassowary this
muscle is passed through a loop formed hy
another muscle; and is there infiected, as
if it were round a pulley. This is a pecu-
liarity ; and observe the advantage of it. A
single muscle with a straight tendon, which
is the common muscular form, would have been
suflicient, if it had had power to draw far enough.
But the contraction necessary to draw the
membrane over the whole eye, required a
longer muscle than could lie straight at the
bottom of the eye. Therefore, in order to have
a greater length in a less compass, the cord of
the main muscle makes an angle. This, so far,
answers the end; but, still further, it makes
an angle, not round a fixed pivot, but round
a loop formed by another muscle; which

1 Memoirs for a Natural History of Animals, by the Royal
Academy of Sciences at Paris, done into English by order of
the Royal Society, 1701, page 249.

APPLICATION OP THE AKGUMENT.

5J

second muscle^ whenever it contracts^ of course
twitches the first muscle at the point of inflecr
tion, and thereby assists the action designed by
both. This membrane exists in a rudimentary
form in some quadrupeds^ but is not moved
by a special muscle^ though it is lubricated by
the secretion of a special gland.

Many other obvious illustrations of adapta-
tion of structure to function in the eye might
be added to the foregoing. The choroid coat
with its black pigment^ spread out immediately
behind the retina^ to absorb the transmitted
rays of light, and thus obviate the confusion
which would be otherwise produced, is a
striking instance. The consentaneous move-
ment of the eyes inwards or outwards is
another ; for it must be remembered that the
muscle which draws one eye towards the nose
must act in concert with that which directs
the other eye away from it ; yet the muscle
which abducts each eye receives its nervous
supply from corresponding nerves, though they
do not act in concert. But the adaptation of
all this exquisite mechanism in accordance
with the laws of optics would be valueless,
were not a certain part of the brain set
apart and endowed with the special function
of appreciating what we term light. This
E 2

52

NATUEAL THEOLOGY

specially-endowed portion of the sensorium
is the true seat of the sense of sight ; the eye
is but the optical instrument designed to pro-
duce a picture on the concave mirror at the
back of the eye. The imperfection of either
the nerve centre of vision^ or of the modifying
apparatus in front of it is fatal to sight ; both
must be perfect in their mutual relations, and
in their adaptation to the function to which
they are jointly subservient.

One question may possibly have dwelt in
the reader^s mind during the perusal of these
observations; namely, why should not the Deitj
have given to the animal the faculty of vision
at once ? Why this circuitous perception ; the
ministry of so many means ; an element pro-
vided for the purpose; reflected from opaque
substances, refracted through transparent ones;
and both according to precise laws; then,
a complex organ, an intricate and artificial
apparatus, in order, by the operation of this
element, and in conformity with the restrictions
of these laws, to produce an image upon a
membrane communicating with the brain ?
Wherefore all this ? Why make the diflSculty
in order to surmount it ? If to perceive
objects by some other mode than that of touch.

APPLICATION OP THE ARGUMENT.

53

<)Y objects which lay out of the reach of that
sense^ were the thing proposed ; could not a
simple volition of the Creator have communi-
cated the capacity ? Why resort to contriv-
ance where power is omnipotent? Contriv-
ance^ by its very definition and nature^ is the
refuge of imperfection. To have recourse to
expedients implies difficulty^ impediment,
restraint, defect of power. This question
belongs to the other senses, as well as to sight;
to the general functions of animal life, as
nutrition, secretion, respiration, to the economy
of vegetables ; and indeed to almost all the
operations of nature. The question, therefore,
is of very wide extent • and amongst other
answers which may be given to it, beside
reasons of which probably we are ignorant, one
answer is this ; it is only by the display of
contrivance, that the existence, the agency, the
wisdom of the Deity, could be testified to His
rational creatures. This is the scale by which
we ascend to all the knowledge of our Creator
which we possess, so far as it depends upon the
phenomena, or the works of nature. Take
away this, and you take away from us every
subject of observation, and ground of reasoning!
I mean as our rational faculties are formed at
present. Whatever is done, God could have

54

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

done without the intervention of instruments
or means ; but having framed laws for the
government of matter, it is essential that
mechanism should be employed to regulate the
conduct of matter in accordance with these
laws ; and it is in the construction of instru-
ments, in the choice and adaptation of means,
that a creative intelligence is seen. It is this
which constitutes the order and beauty of the
universe. God, therefore, has been pleased to
prescribe limits to His own power, and to work
His ends within those limits. The general
laws of matter have perhaps the nature of these
limits ; its inertia, its reaction ; the laws which
govern the communication of motion, the
refraction and reflection of light, the constitu-
tion of fluids non-elastic and elastic, the trans-
mission of sound through the latter; the laws
of magnetism, of electricity ; and probably
others, yet undiscovered. These are general
laws ; and when a particular purpose is to be
effected, it is not by making a new law, nor by
the suspension of the old ones, nor by making
them wind, and bend, and yield to the occasion
(for nature with great steadiness adheres to
and supports them) ; but it is, as we have seen
in the eye, by the interposition of an apparatus,
corresponding with these laws, and suited to

APPLICATION OF THE AEGUMENT.

00

the exigency which results from them^ that the
purpose is at length attained. As we have
said^ therefore, God prescribes limits to His
power, that He may let in the exercise, and
thereby exhibit demonstrations of His wisdom.
For then, i. e., such laws and limitations being
laid down, it is as though one Being should
have fixed certain rules; and, if we may so
speak, provided certain materials ; and, after-
wards, have committed to another Being, out
of these materials, and in subordination to these
rules, the task of drawing forth a creation : a
supposition which evidently leaves room, and
induces indeed a necessity for contrivance.
Nay, there may be many such agents, and
many ranks of these. We do not advance this
as a doctrine either of philosophy or of religion ;
but we say that the subject may safely be
represented under this view, because the
Deity, acting Himself by general laws, will have
the same consequences upon our reasoning, as
if He had prescribed these laws to another. It
has been said that the problem of creation was,
attraction and matter being given, to make a
world out of them ; and, as above explained,
this statement perhaps does not convev a false
idea.

66

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

We liave made choice of the eye as an in-
stance upon which to rest the argument of this
chapter. Some single example was to be
proposed ; and the eye offered itself under the

THE EXTERNAL EAR,

exhibitiijg, in a well-formed male example, the channels and cavities
for reflecting the sound into the auditory passage.

advantage of admitting of a strict comparison
with optical instruments. The ear^ it is proba-
ble^ is no less artificially and mechanically
adapted to its office than the eye. But we

APPLICATION OF THE ARGUMENT.

57

know less about it : we do not so well under-
stand the action^ the use^ or the mutual
dependency of its internal parts. Its general
form^ however, both external and internal^ ib

GENERAL PLAN OF THE EAR.

a, the meatus auditorius externus, or external tube of the ear ; b, the
membrane of the drum of the ear ; c, the chain of small bones lying
within the drum ; /, the semicircular canals ; e, the cochlea ; d, the
eustachian tube.

sufficient to show that it is an instrument
adapted to the reception of sound ; that is to
say, already knowing that sound consists in

58

NATUEAL THEOLOGY.

pulses of the air^ we perceive^ in the structure
of the ear, a suitableness to receive impressions
from this species of action, and to propagate
the impressions to the brain. For of what
does this structure consist ? An external ear
(the concha), calculated, like an ear-trumpet,
to catch and collect the pulses of which we
have spoken ; in large quadrupeds, turning to
the sound, and possessing a configuration, as
well as motion, evidently fitted for the office ;
of a tube which leads into the head, lying at
the root of this outward ear, the folds and
sinuses thereof tending and conducting the
air towards it; of a thin membrane, like the
pelt of a drum, stretched across this passage
upon a bony rim ; of a chain of moveable, and
infinitely curious, bones, forming a communi-
cation, and the only communication that can
be observed, between the membrane last men-
tioned and the interior channels and recesses
of the skull ; of cavities, similar in shape and
form to wind instruments of music, being spiral
or portions of circles ; of the eustachian tube,
like the hole in a drum, to let the air pass
freely into and out of the barrel of the ear, as
the covering membrane vibrates, or as the tem-
perature may be altered : the whole labyrinth
hewn out of a rock ; that is, wrought into the

APPLICATION OP THE ARGUMENT.

59

substance of tbe hardest bone of the body.
This assemblage of connected parts constitutes
together an apparatus^ plainly enough relative
to the transmission of sounds or of the impulses
received from sound.

The communication within^ formed by the
small bones of the ear_, is^ to look upon^ more
like what we are accustomed to call machinery^
than anything I am acquainted with in animal
bodies. It seems evidently designed to con-
tinue towards the sensorium the tremulous
motions which are excited in the membrane of
the tympanum^ or what is better, known by the
name of the drum of the ear.*^^ The corn-
pages of bones consists of four^ which are so

BONES OF THE EAR.

a, the incus , b, the malleus ; c, the os orbiculare ; d, the stapes.

disposed, and so hinge npon one another, as
that if the membrane of the drum of the ear

60

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

vibrate, all the four are put in motion together ;
and, by the result of their action, work the
base of that which is the last in the series,
upon an aperture which it closes, and upon
which it plays, and which aperture opens into
the labyrinth where the nerve is distributed.
This last bone of the four is called the stapes.
The office of the drum of the ear is to spread
out an extended surface capable of receiving
the impressions of sound, and of being put by
them into a state of vibration. The office of
the stapes is to repeat these vibrations. It is
a repeating frigate, stationed more within the
line. From which account of its action may
be understood, how the sensation of sound will
be excited by anything which communicates a
vibratory motion to the stapes, though not, as
in all ordinary cases, through the intervention
of the membrana tympani. This is done by
solid bodies applied to the bones of the skull,
as by a metal bar holden at one end between
the teeth, and touching at the other end a
tremulous body. It likewise appears to be
done, in a considerable degree, by the air itself,
even when the membrane of the drum of the
ear is greatly damaged. Either in the natural
or preternatural state of the organ, the use of
ithe chain of bones is to propagate the impulse

APPLICATION OP THE ARGUIVIENT.

61

in a direction towards the brain^ and to propa-
gate it with the advantage of a lever ; which
advantage consists in increasing the force and
strength of the vibration^ and at the same
time diminishing the space through which it
oscillates : both of which changes may augment

STRUCTURE OP THE INTERNAL EAR,

showing the parts (described in cut p. 57) on an enlarged scale.

or facilitate the impression made on the audi-
tory nerves.

The benefit of the eustachian tube to the
organ may be made out upon known pneumatic

62

NATUEAL THEOLOGY.

principles. Within the drum-head or mem-
brane is a cavity which is called the tympanum.
The eustachian tube is a slender pipe^ but
suflScient for the passage of air^ leading from
this cavity into the back part of the mouth,
Now^ it would not have done to have had a
vacuum in this cavity; for^ in that case^ the
pressure of the atmosphere from without would
have burst the membrane which covered it.
Nor would it have done to have filled the cavity
with lymph or any other secretion ; which would
necessarily have obstructed both the vibration
of the membrane and the play of the small
bones. Nor, lastly, would it have done to have
occupied the space Avith confined air, because
the expansion of that air by heat, or its con-
traction by cold, would have distended or
relaxed the covering membrane, in a degree
inconsistent with the purpose which it was
assigned to execute. The only remaining
expedient, and that for which the eustachian
tube serves, is to open to this cavity a commu-
nication with the external air. In one word;
it exactly answers the purpose of the hole in a
drum.

The membrana tympani itself, likewise, de-
serves all the examination which can be made
of it. It is not found in the ears of fish ;

APPLICATION OP THE ARGUMENT.

63

wliich furnishes an additional proof of what
indeed is indicated by everything about it,
that it is appropriated to the action of air, or
of an elastic medium. It bears an obvious
resemblance to the pelt or head of a drum,
from which it takes its name. It resembles
also a drum-head in this principal property,
that its use depends upon its tension. Tension
is the state essential to it. Now we know that,
in a drum, the pelt is carried over a hoop, and
braced as occasion requires, by the means of
strings attached to its circumference. In the
membrane of the ear, the same purpose is pro-
vided for, more simply, but not less mechani-
cally nor less successfully, by a different
expedient, viz. by the end of a moveable bone
(the handle of the malleus) pressing upon its
centre.

The essential part of the organ of hearing
is, of course, the special nerve ; and so long
as the function of this nerve is unimpaired,
defects in the modifying apparatus may exist,
without destroying the sense. Thus the drum
may be opened, and the small bones may be
removed or the eustachian tube may be closed,
causing serious derangement of the function,
but without entirely suppressing it. This is
not the case with the eye ; and the difference

64

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

is due to the coarser nature of the medium
through which sound is propagated than that
through which light is transmitted : moreover,
sound is conducted through the solid texture
of the surrounding bones. The tympanic
membrane is not muscular; but its degree of
tension is regulated by two small muscles,
which act upon it through the medium of
the small bones to which they are attached.
The labyrinth is lined by a membrane of ex-
treme delicacy, and is partly occupied by fluid :
its several component parts present an extended
surface whereon the nerve of hearing is spread
out ; and it is possible their peculiar form is de-
signed to assist us in determining the direction
from which a sound comes.

OF THE SUCCESSION OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS. 65

CHAPTER IV.

OP THE SUCCESSION OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS.

The generation of the animal no more accounts
for the contrivance of the eye or ear, than, upon
the supposition stated in a preceding chapter,
the production of a watch by the motion and
mechanism of a former watch, would account
for the skill and intention evidenced in the
watch, so produced ; than it would account for
the disposition of the wheels, the catching of
their teeth, the relation of the several parts of
the works to one another, and to their common
end ; for the suitableness of their forms and
places to their offices, for their connexion, their
operation, and the useful result of that operation.
I do insist most strenuously upon the correct-
ness of this comparison; that it holds as to
every mode of specific propagation; and that
whatever was true of the watch, under the
hypothesis above-mentioned, is true of plants
and animals.

F

66

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

I. To begin with the fructification of plants. .
Can it be doubted but that the seed contains
a particular organization? Whether a latent
plantule with the means of temporary nutrition,
or whatever else it be, it encloses an organi-
zation, suited to the germination of a new plant.
Has the plant which produced the seed any-
thing more to do with that organization, than the
watch would have had to do with the structure
of the watch which was produced in the course
of its mechanical movement ? I mean. Has it
anything at all to do with the contrivance ?
llie maker and contriver of one watch, when
he inserted within it a mechanism suited to the
production of another watch, was, in truth, the
maker and contriver of that other watch. All
the properties of the new watch were to be
referred to his agency; the design manifested
in it, to his intention ; the art, to him as the
artist; the collocation of each part, to his
placing ; the action, effect, and use, to his
counsel, intelligence and workmanship. In
producing it by the intervention of a former
watch, he was only working by one set of tools
instead of another. So it is with the plant, and
the seed produced by it. Can any distinction
be assigned between the two cases ; between
the producing watch, and the producing plant ;

OF THE SUCCESSION OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS. 67

both passive^ unconscious substances ; both^ by
the organization which was given to them^ pro-
ducing their like^ without understanding or
design ; both^ that is^ instruments ?

II. From plants we may proceed to oviparous
animals ; from seeds to eggs. Now I say^ that
the bird has the same concern in the formation
of the egg which she lays, as the plant has in
that of the seed which it drops ; and no other,
nor greater. The internal constitution of the
egg is as much a secret to the hhn, as if the hen
were inanimate. Her will cannot alter it, or
change a single feather of the chick. She can
neither foresee nor determine of which sex her
brood shall be, or how many of either : yet the
thing produced shall be, from the first, very
different in its make, according to the sex which
it bears. So far, therefore, from adapting the
means, she is not beforehand apprized of the
effect. If there be concealed within that smooth
shell a provision and a preparation for the pro-
duction and nourishment of a new animal, they
are not of her providing or preparing : if there
be contrivance, it is none of hers. Although,
therefore, there be the difference of life and per-
ceptivity between the animal and the plant, it
is a difference which enters not into the account.
It is a foreign circumstance. It is a difference

F 2

68

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

of properties not employed. The animal function
and the vegetable function are alike destitute of
any design which can operate upon the form of
the thing produced. The plant has no design
in producing the seed^ no comprehension of the
nature or use of what it produces ; the bird with
respect to its egg^ is not above the plant with
respect to its seed. Neither the one nor the
other bears that sort of relation to what proceeds
from them^ which a joiner does to the chair
which he makes. Now a cause^ which bears
ihis relation to the effect, is what we want, in
order to account for the suitableness of means to
an end, the fitness and fitting of one thing to
another; and this cause the parent plant or
animal does not supply.

It is further observable concerning the pro-
pagation of plants and animals, that the appa-
ratus employed exhibits no resemblance to the
thing produced ; in this respect holding an
analogy with instruments and tools of art.
The filaments, antherae, and stigmata of flowers,
bear no more resemblance to the young plant, or
even to the seed, which is formed by their inter-
vention, than a chisel or a plane does to a table
or chair. What then are the filaments, anthei'se,
and stigmata of plants, but instruments strictly
so called ?

OF THE SUCCESSION OF PL.VNTS AND ANIMALS. 69^

III. We may advance from animals which
bring forth eggs, to animals which bring forth
their young alive ; and of this latter class^ from
the lowest to the highest ; from irrational to
rational life^ from brutes to the human species ;
without perceivings as we proceed, any alteration
whatever in the terms of the comparison. The
rational animal does not produce its offspring
with more certainty or success than the irrational
animal : a man than a quadruped, a quadruped
than a bird ; nor (for we may follow the grada*
tion through its whole scale) a bird than a
plant; nor a plant than a watch, a piece of dead
mechanism, would do, upon the supposition
which has already so often been repeated.
Rationality therefore has nothing to do in the
business. If an account must be given of tb
contrivance which we observe; if it be demanded,,
whence arose either the contrivance by which
the young animal is produced, or the contrivance-
manifested in the young animal itself, it is not
from the reason of the parent that any such
account can be drawn. He is the cause of hij^
offspring, in the same sense as that in which a
gardener is the cause of the tulip which grows
upon his parterre, and in no other. We admire
the flower ; we examine the plant ; we perceive
the conauciveness of many of its parts to their

70

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

end and office ; we observe a provision for its
nourishment^ growth^ protection, and fecundity;
but we never think of the gardener in all this.
We attribute nothing of this to his agency ; yet
it may still be true, that without the gardener
we should not have had the tulip ; just so it is
with the succession of animals even of the
highest order. For the contrivance discovered
in the structure of the thing produced, we want
a contriver. The parent is not that contriver.
His consciousness decides that question. He
is in total ignorance why that which is produced
took its present form rather than any other.
It is for him only to be astonished by the effect.
We can no more look therefore to the intelli-
gence of the parent animal for what we are in
search of, a cause of relation, and of subser-
viency of parts to their use, which relation and
subserviency we see in the procreated body, than
we can refer the internal conformation of an
acorn to the intelligence of the oak from which
it dropped, or the structure of the watch to the
intelligence of the watch which produced it ;
there being no difference, as far as argument is
concerned, between an intelligence which is not
exerted, and an intelligence which does not
exist.

APPLICATION OP THE ARGUMENT.

71

CHAPTER V.

APPLICATION OF THE ARGUMENT, CONTINUED.

Every observation which was made in our first
chapter concerning the watch, may be repeated
with strict propriety concerning the eye ; con-
cerning animals ; concerning plants ; concern-
ing, indeed, all the organized parts of the works
of nature. As, —

I. When we are inquiring simply after the
existence of an intelligent Creator, imperfection,
inaccuracy, liability to disorder, occasional irre-
gularities, may subsist in a considerable degree,
without inducing any doubt into the question ;
just as a watch may frequently go wrong,
seldom perhaps exactly right, may be faulty in
some parts, defective in some, without the
smallest ground of suspicion from thence aris-
ing that it was not a watch ; not made ; or not
made for the purpose ascribed to it. When
faults are pointed out, and when a question is

n

NATUllAL THEOLOGY.

started concerning the skill of the artist^ or
dexterity with which the work is executed^ then
indeed, in order to defend these qualities from
accusation, we must be able, either to expose
some intractableness and imperfection in the^
materials, or point out some invincible difficulty
in the execution, into which imperfection and
difficulty the matter of complaint may be re-^
solved ; or if we cannot do this, we must adduce
such specimens of consummate art and con-
trivance, proceeding from the same hand, as^
may convince the inquirer of the existence, in
the case before him, of impediments like those
which we have mentioned, although, what from
the nature of the case is very likely to happen,,
they be unknown and unperceived by him. This
we must do in order to vindicate the artistes
skill, or, at least, the perfection of it; as we
must also judge of his intention, and of the
provisions employed in fulfilling that intention,
not from an instance in which they fail, but
from the great plurality of instances in which
they succeed. But, after all, these are different
questions from the question of the artistes exist-
ence : or, which is the same, whether the thing
before us be a work of art or not : and the
questions ought always to be kept separate in
the mind. So likewise it is in the works of

APPLICATION OF THE AIIGEMENT.

73

nature. Irregularities and imperfections are of
little or no weight in the consideration, when
that consideration relates simply to the existence
of a Creator. When the argument respects His
attributes, they are of weight ; but are then to
be taken in conjunction (the attention is not to
rest upon them, but they are to be taken in
conjunction) with the unexceptionable evidence
which we possess, of skill, power, and benevo-
lence, displayed in other instances ; which evi-
dences may, in strength, number, and variety,
be such, and may so overpower apparent
blemishes, as to induce us, upon the most
reasonable ground, to believe that these last
ought to be referred to some cause, though we
be ignorant of it, other than defect of know-
ledge or of benevolence in the author.

II. There may be also parts of plants and
animals, as there were supposed to be of the
watch, of which, in some instances the opera-
tion, in others the use, is unknown. These
form different cases ; for the operation may be
unknown, yet the use be certain. This is
exemplified rather by the past history than the
present state of physiology. The utility of the
lungs, and the necessity of breathing the atmo-
spheric air, were known long before it was
ascertained that carbon was thereby removed

74

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

from the blood in the form of carbonic acid,
and oxygen introduced in its place. The same
may be said of the lymphatic system, the agency
of which, in the animal economy, is now well
understood. The spleen, again, was formerly
considered to be an useless organ, but modern
investigation has shown that it is importantly
concerned in the latest stage of the conversion
of aliment into circulating blood. Instances of
the former kind, namely, in which we pannot
explain the operation, are more numerous ; for
they will be so in proportion to our ignorance.
The}^' will be more or fewer to different persons,
and in different stages of science. Every im-
provement of knowledge diminishes their num-
ber. There is hardly, perhaps, a year passes,
that does not, in the works of nature, bring
some operation, or some mode of operation, to
light, which was before undiscovered, — probably
unsuspected. Instances of the second kind,
namely, where the part appears to be totally
useless, I believe to be extremely rare ; com-
pared with the number of those, of which the
use is evident, they are beneath any assignable
proportion ; and have latterly become quite in-
significant. But to such cases, even were they
fully made out, may be applied the considera-
tion which we suggested concerning the watch.

APPLICATION OF THE ARGUMENT.

76

viz. that these superfluous parts do not negative
the reasoning which we instituted concerning
those parts which are useful^ and of which we
know the use : the indication of contrivance,
with respect to them, remains as it was before.
Indeed, the only parts to which we can venture
to apply the term superfluous,^^ in the animal
frame, are those which exist in a rudimentary
form, and are typical of that unity of structure
whicli pervades the development of organized
beings.

HI. One atheistic way of replying to our ob-
servations upon the works of nature, and to the
proofs of a Deity which we think that we perceive
in them, is to tell us, that all which we see must
necessarily have had some form, and that it might
as well be its present form as any other. Let us
now apply this answer to the eye, as we did be-
fore to the watch. Something or other must have
occupied that place in the animaFs head : must
have filled up, we will say, that socket : we will
say also, that it must have been of that sort of
substance which we call animal substance, as flesh,
bone, membrane, cartilage, &c. But that it should
have been an knowing as we do what an eye
comprehends, — viz. that it should have consisted,
first, of a series of transparent lenses (very diffe-
rent, by-the-bye, even in their substance, from

76

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

the opaque materials of which the rest of the body
is^ in general at least, composed ; and with which
the whole of its surface, this single portion of it
excepted, is covered) : secondly, of a black cloth
or canvas (the only membrane of the body which
is black) spread out behind these lenses, so as to
receive the image formed by pencils of light trans-
mitted through them ; and placed at the precise
geometrical distance at which, and at which
alone, a distinct image could be formed, i^mely,.
at the concourse of the refracted rays : thirdly, of
a large nerve communicating between this mem-
brane and the brain ; without which the action of
light upon the membrane, however modified by
the organ, would be lost to the purposes of sensa-
tion : — that this fortunate conformation of parts
should have been the lot, not of one individual
out of many thousand individuals, like the great
prize in a lottery, or like some singularity in
nature, but the happy chance of a whole species
nor of one species out of many thousand species,
with which we are acquainted, but of by far the
greatest number of all that exist : and that under
varieties, not casual or capricious, but bearing
marks of being suited to their respective exigen-
cies : — that all this should have taken place,,
merely because something must have occupied
those points in every animafs forehead ; — or, that

APPLICATION OF THE AIIGUMENT.

77

all this should be thought to be accounted for, by
the short answer, ^^that whatever was there, must
have had some form or other,’^ is too absurd to be
made more so by any augmentation. We are not
contented with this answer ; we find no satisfac-
tion in it, by way of accounting for appearances of
organization far short of those of the eye, such as
we observe in fossil shells and bones, or other
substances which bear the vestiges of animal or
vegetable recrements, but which, either in respect
of utility or of the situation in which they are
discovered, may seem accidental enough. It is
no way of accounting even for these things, to say
that the stone, for instance, which is shown to us
(supposing the question to be concerning a petri-
fication) must have contained some internal con-
formation or other. Nor does it mend the answer
to add, with respect to the singularity of the con-
formation, that, after the event, it is no longer to
be computed what the chances were against it.
This is always to be computed, when the question
is, whether a useful or imitative conformation be
the produce of chance, or not ; I desire no greater
certainty in reasoning, than that by which chance
is excluded from the present disposition of the
natural world. U niversal experience is against it.
What does chance ever do for us? In the human
body, for instance, chance, i. e. the operation of

78

NATURAL THEOLOGY,

causes without apparent design, may produce a
wen, a wart, a mole, a pimple, but never an eye.
Amongst inanimate substances, a clod, a pebble,
a liquid drop might be ; but never was a watch,
a telescope, an organized body of any kind,
answering a valuable purpose by a complicated
mechanism ; the effect of so-called chance. In
no assignable instance hath such a thing existed
without evident intention somewhere. Strictly
speaking, chance cannot be said to determine
anything. When \^e employ the word in the
above sense, it can only mean that we are
ignorant how any given effect is produced, that
we are incapable of influencing that effect, and
that we fail to trace design in its production.

IV. There is another answer, which has the
same effect as the resolving of things into chance;
which answer would persuade us to believe, that
the eye, the animal to which it belongs, every
other animal, every plant, indeed every organized
body which we see, are only so many out of the
possible varieties and combinations of being,
which the lapse of infinite ages has brought into
existence ; that the present world is the relict of
that variety ; millions of other bodily forms and
other species having perished, being by the de-
fect of their constitution incapable of preserva-
tion, or of continuance by generation. Geo-

APPLICATION OF THE ARGUMENT.

79

logy indubitably demonstrates that many varie-
ties of animals and plants have existed and
perished in regular succession^, to be followed by
others of a higher organization. But the same
observations teach us that these successive
changes were determined by definite laws^ ar-
ranged according to a definite plan_, and adapted
to the existing condition of the earth'^s surface.
There was clearly no element of so-called chance
in the production of this progressive develop-
ment of animal and vegetable life.

V. To the marks of contrivance discoverable
in animal bodies^ and to the argument deduced
from them^ in proof of design and of a design-
ing Creator^ this turn is sometimes attempted
to be given^ namely, that the parts were not
intended for the use, but that the use arose out
of the parts. This distinction is intelligible.
A cabinet-maker rubs his mahogany with fish-
skin ; yet it would be too much to assert that
the skin of the dog-fish was made rough and
granulated on purpose for the polishing of wood,
and the use of cabinet-makers. Therefore the
distinction is intelligible. But I think that
there is very little place for it in the works of
nature. When roundly and generally affirmed
of them, as it hath sometimes been, it amounts
to such another stretch of assertion, as it would

80

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

be to say^ that all the implements of the cabinet-
maker's workshop^ as well as his fish-skin^ were
substances accidentally configurated, which he
had picked up, and converted to his use ; that
his adzes, saws, planes, and gimlets, were not
made, as we suppose, to hew, cut, smooth, shape
out, or bore wood with ; but that, these things
being made, no matter with what design, or
whether with any, the cabinet-maker perceived
that they were applicable to his purpose, and
turned them to account.

But, again. So far as this solution is at-
tempted to be applied to those parts of animals,
the action of which does not depend upon the
will of the animal, it is fraught with still more
evident absurdity. Is it possible to believe
that the eye was formed without any regard
to vision ; that it was the animal itself which
found out that, though formed with no sueh
intention, it would serve to see with ; and that
the use of the eye, as an organ of sight, re-
sulted from this discovery and the animal’s
application of it ? The same question may be
asked of the ear ; the same of all the senses.
None of the senses fundamentally depend upon
the election of the animal; consequently, neither
upon his sagacity nor his experience. It is the
Impression which objects make upon them, that

APPLICATION OP THE ARGUMENT.

81:.

constitutes their use. Under that impression
he is passive. He may bring* objects to the
sense^ or within its reach ; he may select these
objects: but over the impression itself he has
no power^ or very little ; and that properly is
the sense.

Secondly ; there are many parts ot animal
bodies which seem to depend upon the will of
the animal in a greater degree than the senses
do, and yet with respect to which this solution
is equally unsatisfactory. If we apply the
solution to the human body, for instance, it
forms itself into questions, upon which no
reasonable mind can doubt ; such as, whether
the teeth were made expressly for the masti-
cation of food, the feet for walking, the hands
for holding ? or whether, these things being as
they are, being in fact in the animaks posses-
sion, his own ingenuity taught him that they
were convertible to these purposes, though no-
such purposes were contemplated in their for-
mation ?

All that there is of the appearance of reason,
in this way of considering the subject is, that
in some cases, it may be urged, the organization,
seems to determine the habits of the animal,
and its choice to a particular mode of life;,
which, in a certain sense, may be called ^Hhe

G

82

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

use arising out of the part/^ Now to all the
instances^ in which there is any place for this
suggestion^ it may he replied, that the orga-
nization determines the animal to habits bene-
ficial and salutary to itself ; and that this effect
would not be seen so regularly to follow, if the
several organizations did not bear a concerted
and contrived relation to the substance by which
the animal was surrounded. They would, other-
wise, be capacities without objects ; powers
without employment. The web-foot deter-
mines, you say, the duck to swim ; but what
would that avail, if there were no water to
swim in? The strong, hooked bill and sharp
talons of one species of bird, determine it to
prey upon animals ; the soft, straight bill and
weak claws of another species, determine it to
pick up seeds ; but neither determination could
take effect in providing for the sustenance of
the birds, if animal bodies and vegetable seeds
did not lie within their reach. The peculiar
conformation of the bill, and tongue, and claws
of the woodpecker, determines that bird to
search for his food amongst the insects lodged
behind the bark, or in the wood, of decayed
trees ; but what would this profit him, if there
were no trees, no decayed trees, no insects
lodged under their bark, or in their trunk?

APPLICATION OP THE ARGUMENT.

88

The proboscis with which the bee is furnished
determines him to seek for honey; but what
would that signify, if flowers supplied none ?
Faculties thrown down upon animals at random,
and without reference to the objects amidst
which they are placed, would not produce to
them the services and benefits which we see;
and if there be that reference, then there is
intention.

The modern views of development, or evolu-
tion, do not make void the argument, as it is
shown elsewhere. (See Introduction.) The opera-
tion of a general law, in the production of many
and diverse results, must enhance, in our esti-
mation, the Power and Wisdom of the Designer.

Lastly ; the solution fails entirely when
applied to plants. The parts of plants answer
their uses, without any concurrence from the
will or choice of the plant.

VI. Others have chosen to refer everything
to a principle of order in nature. A principle
of order is the word ; but what is meant by a
principle of order, as different from an intelli-
gent Creator, has not been explained either by
definition or example ; and, without such expla-
nation, it should seem to be a mere substitution
of words for reasons, names for causes. Order
itself is only the adaptation of means to an
G 2

84

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

end : a principle of order^ therefore, can only
signify the mind and intention which so adapts
them. Or, were it capable of being explained
in any other sense, is there any experience, any
analogy, to sustain it? Was a watch ever
produced by a principle of order ? and why
might not a watch be so produced as well as
an eye ?

Furthermore, a principle of order, acting
blindly and without choice, is negatived by
the observation that order is not universal ;
which it would be, if it issued from a constant
and necessary principle : nor indiscriminate,
which it would be, if it issued from an unintel-
ligent principle. Where order is wanted, there
we find it ; where order is not wanted, i. e.,
where, if it prevailed, it would be useless, there
we do not find it. In the structure of the eye
(for we adhere to our example), in the figure
and position of its several parts, the most exact
order is maintained. In the forms of rocks
and mountains, in the lines which bound the
coasts of continents and islands, in the shape
of bays and promontories, no order whatever is
perceived, because it would have been super-
fluous. No useful purpose would have arisen
from moulding rocks and mountains into regu-
lar solids, bounding the channel of the ocean

APPLICATION OF THE ARGUMENT.

b5

by geometrical curves; or from the map of
the world resembling a table of diagrams
in Euclid^s Elements^ or Simpson^s Conic
Sections.

Nevertheless^ it is not to be denied that a
principle of order pervades creation; and this
is so as a necessary result of the laws by and
through which it has pleased the Creator to
work. The operation of a law is not always
apparent in all its bearings and relations^ and
thence the seeming disorder and exceptional
derangement of plan^ which is^ in reality^ due
to our limited knowledge and circumscribed
sphere of observation. As these expand we
are enabled to reconcile inconsistencies, and
to include exceptional deviations in that prin-
ciple of order, which was previously mis-
understood, because only partially perceived or
apprehended.

VII. Lastly ; the confidence which we place
in our observations upon the works of nature;
in the marks which we discover of contrivance,
choice, and design ; and in our reasoning upon
the proofs afforded us ; ought not to be shaken,
as it is sometimes attempted to be done, by
bringing forward to our view our own igno-
rance, or rather the general imperfection of our
knowledge of nature. Nor, in many cases.

86

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

ought this consideration to affect us^ even when
it respects some parts of the subject immediately
under our notice. True fortitude of under-
standing consists in not suffering what we know,
to be disturbed by what we do not know. If
we perceive a useful end, and means adapted to
that end, we perceive enough for our conclusion.
If these things be clear, no matter what is ob-
scure; the argument is finished. For instance:
if the utility of vision to the animal which
enjoys it, and the adaptation of the eye to this
ofBee, be evident and certain (and I can mention
nothing which is more so), ought it to prejudice
the inference which we draw from these pre-
misses, if we could not explain the use of the
spleen ? Nay, more : if there be parts of the
eye, viz. the cornea, the crystalline, the retina,
in their substance, figure, and position, mani-
festly suited to the formation of an image by
the refraction of rays of light, at least as mani-
festly as the glasses and tubes of a dioptric
telescope are suited to that purpose ; it concerns
not the proof which these afford of design, and
of a designer, that there may perhaps be other
parts, certain muscles for instance, or nerves in
the same eye, of the agency or effect of which
we can give no account; any more than we
should be inclined to doubt, or ought to doubt,

APPLICATION OP THE AllGUAlENT.

87

about the construction of a telescope, viz. for
what purpose it was constructed, or whether it
were constructed at all, because there belonged
to it certain screws and pins, the use or action
of which we did not comprehend. I take it to
be a general way of infusing doubts and scruples
into the mind, to recur to its own ignorance,
its own imbecility ; to tell us that upon these
subjects we know little, that little imperfectly ;
or rather, that we know nothing properly about
the matter. These suggestions so fall in with
our consciousness, as sometimes to produce a
general distrust of our faculties and our conclu-
sions. But this is an unfounded jealousy. The
uncertainty of one thing does not necessarily
affect the certainty of another thing. Our
ignorance of many points need not suspend oui
assurance of a few. Before we yield, in any
particular instance, to the scepticism which this
sort of insinuation would induce, we ought
accurately to ascertain whether our ignorance
or doubt concern those precise points upon
which our conclusion rests. Other points arc
nothing. Our ignorance of other points ma>
be of no consequence to these, though they oc
points, in various respects, of great importance ;
and our experience of past discoveries, and
especially the vast additions recently made to

'88

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

our knowledge of the functions of various organs
in the animal body^ may reasonably induce us
to hope that this source of obscurity will cease
to be a stumbling-block. A just reasoner
removes from his consideration^ not only what
he knows^ but what he does not know, touching
matters not strictly connected with his argu-
ment, i. e. not forming the very steps of his
deduction: beyond these, his knowledge and
his ignorance are alike relative.

THE AllGUMENT CUMULATIVE.

89

CHAPTER VI.

THE ARGUMENT CUMULATIVE.

Were there no example in the world of con-
trivance, except that of the eye, it would be
alone sufficient to support the conclusion which
we draw from it, as to the necessity of an intel-
ligent Creator. It could never be got rid of ;
because it could not be accounted for by any
other supposition, which did not contradict all
the principles we possess of knowledge ; the
principles, according to which things do, as
often as they can be brought to the test of
experience, turn out to be true or false. Its
coats and humours, constructed, as the lenses
of a telescope are constructed, for the refraction
of rays of light to a point, which forms the
proper action of the organ; the provision in
its muscles and tendons for turning its pupil to
the object, similar to that which is given to the
telescope by screws, and upon which power of

90

NATURAL THEOLOGl.

direction in the eye^ the exercise of its office as
an optical instrument depends ; the further
provision for its defence^ for its constant lubri-
city and moisture, which we see in its socket
and its lids, in its gland for the secretion of the
matter of tears, its outlet or communication
with the nose for carrying off the liquid after
the eye is washed with it ; these provisions
compose altogether an apparatus, a system of
parts, a preparation of means, so manifest in
their design, so exquisite in their contrivance,
so successful in their issue, so precious, and
so infinitely beneficial in their use, as, in
my opinion, to bear down all doubt that can
be raised upon the subject. And what I wish,
under the title of the present chapter, to observe
is, that if other parts of nature were inaccessible
to our inquiries, or even if other parts of nature
presented nothing to our examination but dis-
order and confusion, the validity of this example
would remain the same. If there were but
one watch in the world, it would not be less
certain that it had a maker. If we had never
in our lives seen any but one single kind of
hydraulic machine, yet, if of that one kind we
understood the mechanism and use, we should
be as perfectly assured that it proceeded from
the hand, and thought, and skill of a workman.

THE AllGUMENT CUMULATIVE.

91

as if we visited a museum of the arts^ and saw
collected there twenty different kinds of ma-
chines for drawing water^ or a thousand different
kinds for other purposes. Of this point each
machine is a proof, independently of all the
rest. So it is with the evidences of a Divine
agency. The proof is not a conclusion which
lies at the end of a chain of reasoning, of which
chain each instance of contrivance is only a
link, and of which, if one link fail, the whole
falls ; but it is an argument separately supplied
by every separate example. An error in stating
an example affects only that example. The
argument is cumulative, in the fullest sense of
that term. The eye proves it without the ear;
the ear without the eye. The proof in each
example is complete ; for when the design of
the part, and the conduciveness of its structure
to that design are shown, the mind may set itself
at rest ; no future consideration can detract any-
thing from the force of the example.

93

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

CHAPTER VII.

OF THE MECHANICAL AND IMMECHANICAL PARTS
AND FUNCTIONS OF ANIMALS AND VEGETABLES.

It is not that every part of an animal or vege-
table has not proceeded from a contriving mind ;
or that every part is not construeted with a
view to its proper end and purpose^ according
to the laws belonging to and governing the
substanee or the action made use of in that
part ; or that each part is not so constructed as
to effectuate its purpose whilst it operates accord-
ing to these laws ; but it is because these laws
themselves are not in all cases equally under-
stood ; or^ what amounts to nearly the same
things are not equally exemplified in more
simple processes, and more simple machines ;
that we lay down the distinction, here proposed,
between the mechanical parts and other parts of
animals and vegetables.

For instance : the principle of muscular

PAUTS AND FUNCTIONS OF ANIMALS^ ETC. 9S

motion^ viz. upon what cause the swelling of
the belly of the muscle^ and consequent con-
traction of its tendons^ either by an act of the
will^ or by involuntary irritation^ depends^ is
wholly unknown to us. The substance em-
ployed, whether it be fluid, gaseous, elastic^
electrical, or none of these, or nothing resem-
bling these, is also unknown to us : of course,
the laws belonging to that substance, and which
regulate its action are unknown to us. We see
nothing similar to this contraction in any
machine which we can make, or any process
which we can execute. So far (it is confessed)
we are in ignorance, but no further. This power
and principle, from whatever cause it proceeds,
being assumed, the collocation of the fibres to re-
ceive the principle, the disposition of the muscles
for the use and application of the power, is mecha-
nical ; and is as intelligible as the adjustment of
the wires and strings by which a puppet is moved.
"We see, therefore, as far as respects the subject
before us, what is not mechanical in the animal
frame, and what is. The nervous influence (for
we are often obliged to give names to things
which we know little about) — I say the nervous
influence, by which the belly or middle of the
muscle is shortened and swelled, is not mechani-
cal. The utility of the effect we perceive ; the

94

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

means^ or the preparation of means, by which it
is produced, we do not. But obscurity as to
the origin of muscular motion brings no doubt-
fulness into our observations, upon the sequel of
the process. Which observations relate, 1^^, to
the constitution of the muscle ; in consequence
of which constitution, the swelling and shorten-
ing of the belly or middle part is necessarily
and mechanically followed by a traction of the
tendons : '^ndly, to the number and variety of
the muscles, and the corresponding number and
variety of useful powers which they supply to
the animal ; which is astonishingly great : Zrdlyy
to the judicious (if we may be permitted to use
that term, in speaking of the author or of the
works of nature), to the wise and well-contrived
disposition of each muscle for its specific pur-
pose; for moving the joint this way, and that
way, and the other way ; for pulling and draw-
ing the part to which it is attached, in a deter-
minate and particular direction ; which is a
mechanical operation, exemplified in a multi-
tude of instances. To mention only one : The
tendon of the trochlear muscle of the eye, to the
end that it may draw in the line required, is
passed through a cartilaginous ring, at which it
is reverted, exactly in the same manner as a
rope in a ship is carried over a block or round a

PARTS AND FUNCTIONS OF ANIMALS^ ETC. 95

stay, in order to make it pull in the direction
which is wanted. All this^ as we have said is
mechanical ; and is as accessible to inspection,
as capable of being ascertained, as the mecha-
nism of the automaton in the Strand. Suppose
the automaton to be put in motion by a magnet
(which is probable), it will supply us with a com-
parison very apt for our present purpose. Of the
nature of the magnetic influence we know perhaps
as little as we do of the nervous fluid, although
the phenomena attending the agency of each
have been of late years moi*e carefully studied,
and are now better understood. But, magnetic
attraction being assumed (it signifies nothing
from what cause it proceeds), we can trace, or
there can be pointed out to us, with perfect
clearness and certainty, the mechanism, viz. the
steel bars, the wheels, the joints, the wires, by
which the motion so much admired is com-
municated to the fingers of the image : and to
make any obscurity, or difficulty, or controversy
in the doctrine of magnetism, an objection to
our knowledge or our certainty concerning the
contrivance, or the marks of contrivance, dis-
played in the automaton, would be exactly the
same thing, as it is to make our ignorance (which
we acknowledge) of the cause of nervous agency,
or even of the substance and structure of the

96

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

nerves themselves^ a ground of question or
suspicion as to the reasoning which we institute
concerning the mechanical part of our framco
That an animal is a machine^ is a proposition
neither correctly true nor wholly false. The
distinction which we have been discussing will
serve to show how far the comparison^ which
this expression implies^ holds; and wherein it
fails. And whether the distinction be thought
of importance or not^ it is certainly of impor-
tance to remember^ that there is neither truth
nor justice in endeavouring to bring a cloud
over our understandings^ or a distrust into our
reasonings upon this subject^ by suggesting that
we have but imperfect knowledge of voluntary
motion,, of irritability, of the principle of life, of
sensation, of animal heat, upon all which the
animal functions depend; for, our ignorance of
these parts of the animal frame concerns not at
all our knowledge of the mechanical parts of‘ the
same frame. I contend, therefore, that there is
mechanism in animals ; that this mechanism is
as properly such, as it is in machines made by
art; that this mechanism is intelligible and
certain ; that it is not the less so, because it
often begins or terminates with something
which is not mechanical; that whenever it is
intelligible and certain, it demonstrates inten-

PARTS AND FUNCTIONS OF ANIMALS, ETC. 97

tion and contrivance, as well in the works of
natuie as in those of art; and that it is the
best demonstration which either can alford.

But whilst I contend for these propositions^
I do not exclude myself from asserting, that
there may be, and that there are, other cases in
which, although we cannot exhibit mechanism,
or prove indeed that mechanism is employed,
we want not sufficient evidence to conduct us to
the same conclusion.

There is what may be called the chemical
part of our frame ; of which, by reason of the
imperfection of our chemistry, we can attain to
no distinct knowledge ; I mean, not to a know-
ledge, either in degree or kind, similar to that
which we possess of the mechanical part of
our frame. It does not, therefore, afford the
same species of argument as that which me-
chanism affords ; and yet it may afford an argu-
ment in a high degree satisfactory. The gastric
juice j or the liquor which chiefly digests the food
in the stomachs of animals, is of this class. Of
all menstrua it is the most active, the most
universal. In the human stomach, for instance,
consider what a variety of strange substances,
and how widely different from one another are,
in a few hours, reduced to a uniform pulp, milk,
or mucilage. The juices seize upon everything.

98

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

dissolve the texture of almost everything that
comes ill their way. The flesh of perhaps all
animals; the seeds and fruits of the greatest
number of plants ; the roots^ and stalks^ and
leaves of many, hard and tough as they are,
yield to their powerful pervasion. The changes
wrought are different from those by any chemical
solution which we can produce ; for all substances,
whether animal or vegetable, fat or lean, are
dissolved by digestion, so far as nutriment can
be obtained from them. Consider moreover that
the chief digestive fluid, so powerful in its opera-
tion, is nevertheless mild and bland, and almost
as inoffensive to the touch or taste, as saliva
or gum- water. Consider, I say, these several
properties of the digestive organ, and of the
juice with which it is supplied, or rather with
which it is made to supply itself, and the in-
gredients of which this fluid is composed, and
3-0U will confess it to be entitled to a name,
which it has sometimes received, that of the
chemical wonder of animal nature.*’'^

Another most subtile and curious function of
animal bodies is secretion. This function is ex-
ceedingly important and diversified in its effects,
but obscure in its process, though its apparatus
is comparatively simple. The importance of the
secretory organs is but too well attested by the

PARTS AND FUNCTIONS OF ANIMALS^ ETC. 99

diseases^ which an excessive^ a deficient, or a
vitiated secretion is almost sure of producing.
A single secretion being wrong is enough to
make life miserable, or sometimes to destroy it.
Nor is the variety less than the importance.
From one and the same blood (I speak of the
human body) about twenty different fluids are
separated ; in their sensible properties, in taste,
smell, colour and consistency, the most unlike
one another that is possible : thick, thin, salt,
bitter, sweet : and, if from our own we pass to
other species of animals, we find amongst their
secretions not only the most various, but the
most opposite properties ; the most nutritious
aliment, the deadliest poison ; the sweetest per-
fumes, the most foetid odours. Of these the
greater part, as the gastric juice, the saliva, the
bile, the slippery mucilage which lubricates the
joints, the tears which moisten the eye, the wax
which defends the ear, are, after they are
secreted, made use of in the animal economy ;
are evidently subservient, and are actually
contributing, to the utilities of the animal itself.
Other fluids seem to be separated only to be
rejected. That this also is necessary for the
removal of deleterious or superfluous materia
from the system, is shown by the consequenc:
of the separation being long suspended ; which
H 2

iOO

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

consequence is disease and death. Akin to se-
cretion, if not the same thing, is assimilation,
by which one and the same blood is converted
into bone, muscle or flesh, nerves, membranes,
tendons ; things as different as the wood and
iron, canvas and cordage, of which a ship with
its furniture is composed. We have no operation
of art wherewith exactly to compare all this, for
no other reason perhaps than that all operations
of art are exceeded by it. No chemical elections,
•no chemical analysis or resolution of a substance
into its constituent parts, no mechanical sifting
or division, that we are acquainted with, in per-
fection or variety come up to animal secretion.
Nevertheless, the apparatus and process are ob-
scure; not to say absolutely concealed from our
inquiries. Of late years we have been able to
discern something of the constitution of a gland
by unravelling its structure. In the kidneys of
animals, we can trace the supplying artery di-
viding itself into an infinite number of branches ;
their extremities everywhere terminating in little
saccules, from which the delicate tubes contain-
ing the secretion originate. These tubes open
on the surface of several small cones, which are
surrounded by membranous caps ; and from these
caps the secretion is conducted by large tubes
into a receptacle called the pelvis of the kidney.

PARTS AND PUNCTIONS OF ANIMALS, ETC. 10 T

and thence by a single canal on each side^ called
the ureter, to the bladder : the secreted fluid is
thus continually oozing into its receptacle. This
is all we know of the mechanism of a gland, even
in the case in which it seems most capable of being
investigated. Yet to pronounce that we know
nothing of animal secretion, or nothing satis-
factorily, and with that concise remark to dis-
miss the article from our argument, would
be to dispose of the subject very hastily and
very irrationally. For the purpose which we
want, that of evincing intention, we know a.
great deal. And what we know is this. We
see the blood carried by a pipe, conduit, or
tube to the gland. We see an organized appa-
ratus, be its construction or action what it
will, which we call that gland. We see the
blood, or part of the blood, after it has passed
through and undergone the action of the gland,,
coming from it by an emulgent vein, i. e. by
another pipe or conduit. And we see also at the
same time a new and specific fluid issuing from
the same gland by its excretory duct, i. e. by
a third pipe or conduit ; which new fluid is, in
the case of some glands, discharged out of the
body, in more cases retained within it, there
to execute some important and intelligible office*
Now supposing, or admitting, that we know

10£

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

nothing of the proper internal constitution of a
gland^ or of the mode of its acting upon the
blood; then our situation is precisely like that
of an unmechanical looker-on^ who stands by a
stocking-loom^ a corn-mill^ a cardiiig-machine^
or a threshing-machine, at work, the fabric and
mechanism of which, as well as all that passes
within, is hidden from his sight by the outside
case ; or, if seen, would be too complicated for
his uninformed, uninstructed understanding to
comprehend. And what is that situation ? This
spectator, ignorant as he is, sees at one end a
material enter the machine, as unground grain
the mill, raw cotton the carding-inachine,
sheaves of unthreshed corn the threshing-
machine; and when he casts his eye to the
other end of the apparatus, he sees the material
issuing from it in a new state; and, what is
more, in a state manifestly adapted to future
uses ; the grain, in meal fit for the making of
bread ; the wool, in rovings ready for spinning
into threads ; the sheaf, in corn dressed for the
mill. Is it necessary that this man, in order to
be convinced that design, that intention, that
contrivance has been employed about the ma-
chine, should be allowed to pull it to pieces;
should be enabled to examine the parts sepa-
rately ; explore their action upon one another,

PARTS AND FUNCTIONS OF ANIMALS, ETC. 103

or their operation, whether simultaneous or suc-
cessive, upon the machinery which is presented
to them ? He may long to do this to gratify
his curiosity ; he may desire to do it to improve
his theoretic knowledge ; or he may have a
more substantial reason for requesting it, if he
happen, instead of a common visitor, to be a
mill-wright by profession, or a person some-
times called in to repair such-like machines
when out of order ; but^ for the purpose of as-
certaining the existence of counsel and design
in the formation of the machine, he wants no
such intromission or privity. What he sees is
sufficient. The effect upon the material, the
change produced in it, the utility of that change
for future applications, abundantly testify, be
the concealed part of the machine or of its con-
struction what it will, the hand and agency of
a contriver.

If any confirmation were wanting to the
evidence which the animal secretions afford of
design, it may be derived, as has been .already
hinted, from their variety, and from their appro-
priation to their place and use. They all come
from the same blood : they are all drawn off by
glands : yet the produce is very different, and
the difference exactly adapted to the work which
is to be done, or the end to be answered. No

104

NxlTUKAL THEOLOGY.

account can be given of this^ without resorting
to special purpose and appointment. Why^ for
instance^ is the saliva^ which is diffused over the
seat of taste, insipid, whilst so many others of
the secretions, the urine, the tears, and the
sweat, are salt? Why does the gland within
the ear separate a viscid substance, which
defends that passage; the gland in the upper
angle of the eye, a thin brine, which washes the
ball ? Why is tlie synovia of the joints mucila-
ginous ; the bile bitter, stimulating, and soapy ?
Why does the juice which flows into the stomach
contain powers which make that bowel the great
laboratory, as it is by its situation the recipient,
of the materials of future nutrition ? These are
all fair questions ; and no answer can be given to
them, but what calls in intelligence and intention.

It should, however, be observed that more
recent researches in animal chemistry, and in
the microscopic anatomy of structures compos-
ing the animal fabric, have explained much
which formerly was a mystery. This remark
applies, in the present place, to the action of the
gastric juice and its chemical constitution, which
have been successfully studied, and made the
subject of many carefully conciucted experiments:
also to the structure and functions of glands.
But why one gland should produce one kind of

PARTS AND FUNCTIONS OF ANIMALS^, ETC. 105

secretion^ and another a fluid of an entirely
different character^ remains as great a mystery
as ever. The same remark applies to the repair
of tissues after injury; e. g. the union of a
broken bone by the deposit of new bone. The
vessels of each gland and texture are endowed
with a special property of selecting the required
material^ whether for use or for abstraction;
but on what physical or chemical agency this
property depends is still unintelligible to us.

My object in the present chapter has been to
teach three things ; firsts that it is a mistake to
suppose that^ in reasoning from the appearances
of nature^, the imperfection of our knowledge
proportionably affects the certainty of our con-
clusion ; for in many cases it does not affect it
at all ; secondly^ that the different parts of the
animal frame may be classed and distributed,
according to the degree of exactness with which
we can compare them with works of art ;
thirdly, that the mecAanical parts of our frame,
or those in which this comparison is most
complete, although constituting, probably, the
coarsest portions of nature's workmanship, are
the most proper, because the most readily intel-
ligible, to be alleged as proofs and specimens of
design.

106

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

CHAPTER VIII.

OF MECHANICAL ARRANGEMENT IN THE HUMAN
FRAME.

We proceed^ therefore, to propose certain ex-
amples taken out of this class ; making choice
of such as, amongst those which have come to
our knowledge, appear to be the most striking,
and the best understood ; but obliged, perhaps,
to postpone both these recommendations to a
third ; that of the example being capable of
explanation without plates or figures, or tech-
nical language.

OF THE BONES.

I. — I challenge any man to produce, in the
joints and pivots of the most complicated or the
most flexible machine that was ever contrived, a
construction more artificial, or more evidently
artificial, than that which is seen in the vertebrae
of the Inman neck, — Two things were to be

AUEANGEMENT IN THE HUMAN EEAME. 107

1. UPPER VIEW OF THE ATLAS VERTEBRA.

a, hole for the passage of the spinal marrow ; h b, the surfaces on
which the skull works ; c, portion of the spinal hole, through which the
dental or toothlike process of the dental vertebra passes, and in which
situation it is fixed by a ligament which crosses it in the direction of the
dotted line.

2. LOWER VIEW OF THE ATLAS VERTEBRA.

a c refer to the same parts as in fig. \ ; b b, surfaces. agaiRst which the
dental vertebra works.

3. UPPER VIEW OF THE SECOND OR DENTAL VERTEBRA.

a, spinal hole ; b b, the surfaces on which the first vertebra rests ; ri, the
dental process.

4. PROFILE OF THE DENTAL VERTEBRA.

5. ATLAS AND DENTAL VERTEBRA,

joined together in their natural positions.

108

IsMTURAL THEOLOGY,

done. The head was to have the power of
bending forward and backward^ as in the act of
nodding^ stooping^ looking upward or down-
ward; and^ at the same time^ of turning itself
round upon the body to a certain extent^ the
quadrant we will say, or rather^ perhaps, a
hundred-and-twenty degrees of a circle. For
these two purposes^ two distinct contrivances
are employed : First, the head rests immediately
upon the uppermost of the vertebrae, and is
united to it by a double joint; upon which joint
the head plays freely forward and backward,
and from side to side, as far either way as is
necessary, or as the ligaments allow ; which was
the first thing required. — But then the rotatory
motion is unprovided for : Therefore, secondly
to make the head capable of this, a further
mechanism is introduced ; not between the head
.and the uppermost bone of the neck, where the
other joint is, but between that bone, and the
bone next underneath it. It is a mechanism
resembling the axle of a wheel. This second, or
uppermost bone but one, has what anatomists
call a process, viz. a projection, somewnat simi-
lar, in size and shape, to a large eye-tooth ;
which tooth, entering a corresponding socket
(completed by ligament), in the bone above it,
forms a pivot or axle, upon which that upper

ARllANGEMENT IN THE HUMAN FRAME. 109

bone, together with the head which it supports,
turns freely in a circle ; and as far in the circle
as the attached ligaments, specially designed to
check those movements, permit the head to
turn. Thus are both motions perfect, without
interfering with each other. When we nod the
head we use the double joint, which lies between
the head and the first bone of the neck. When
we turn the head round, we use the pivot
joint, which runs between the first bone of
the neck and the second. We see the same
contrivance, and the same principle, employed in
the frame or mounting of a telescope. It is
occasionally requisite, that the object-end of the
instrument be moved up and down as well as
horizontally or equatorially. For the vertical
motion, there is a hinge upon which the tele-
scope plays; for the horizontal or equatorial
motion, an axis upon which the telescope and
the hinge turn round together. And this is
exactly the mechanism which is applied to the
motion of the head : nor will any one here doubt
of the existence of counsel and design, except it
be by that debility of mind, which can trust to
its own reasonings in nothing.

We may add that it was, on another account
also, expedient that the motion of the head
backward and forward should be performed upon

110

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

the upper surface of the first vertebra : for^ if
the first vertebra itself had bent forward^ it
would have brought the spinal marrow^ at the
very beginning of its course^ upon the point of
the tooth.

II. — Another mechanical contrivance, not
unlike the last in its object, but different and
original in its means, is seen in what anato-
mists call the fore-arm ; that is, in the arm
between the elbow and the wrist. Here, for
the perfect use of the limb, two motions are
wanted ; a motion by which the elbow is bent
and straightened; and a rotatory motion, by
which the palm of the hand, as occasion re-
quires, may be turned upward or downward.

BONES OF FORE-ARM.

Bones of the right fore-arm, showing their points of contrast, and how
they are joined together.

How is this managed ? The fore-arm con-
sists of two bones which lie side by side,
and are connected with each other by joints
at the elbow and wrist; both are also con-
nected with the upper- arm or humerus above,
and with the wrist-bones below. One of these
two bones — the ulna — is much larger than the

ARRANGEMENT IN THE HUMAN FRAME. Ill

other — the radius — at the upper end^ forming*
with the upper arm-bone a hinge joints which
admits of the elbow being straightened ; and the
radius simply follows these movements. But at
the lower end the size of the bones is reversed^ the
radius being the larger^ and forming with the
wrist-bones the wrist-joint^ almost to the exclu-
sion of the ulna ; this joint allows of the hand
being bent forwards or backwards^ and from side
to side. But if the movements of the fore-arm
were limited to those described^ the motion of the
hand would be so seriously curtailed as to render
it for many purposes useless. Therefore there are
other arrangements superadded^ by which one
bone^ the radius^ is permitted to roll round the
other^ the ulna; and for this purpose the two
bones are jointed together both above and below ;
and herein is the explanation of the ulna_, or fixed
bone as regards the rotatory movements^ being
the chief bone at the elbow ; and the radius or
moveable bone being the larger and more impor-
tant at the wristj because it has to carry the
hand with it when it revolves around the ulna.
A single bone in the fore-arm^ with a ball and
socket joint at the elbow ; which admits of
motion in all directions^ might_, in some degree,,
have answered the purpose of both moving the
arm and turning the hand. But how much

112

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

SPINAL COLUMN.

Section of spinal column,
showing structure of vertebrae
and canal, cl, 1st cervical ver-
tebra; d1, 1st dorsal ; l1, 1st
lumbar ; s, sacrum; co, coccyx ;
a, body of vertebra ; 6, spinous
process ; c, canal.

better it is accom-
plished by the present
mechanism any person
may convince himself,
who puts the ease and
quickness, with which
he can shake his hand
at the wrist circularly
(moving likewise, if he
pleases, his arm at
the elbow at the same
time), in competition
with the comparatively
slow and laborious mo-
tion, with which his
arm can be made to
turn round at the
shoulder, by the aid
of a ball-and-socket
joint.

III. — The Spine, or
back-bone, is a chain
of joints of very won-
derful construction.
Various, difficult, and
almost inconsistent
offices were to be exe-
cuted by the same in-

ARRANGEMENT IN THE HUMAN ERAME. 118

strument. It was to be firm yet flexible (now I
know no chain made by art which is both these;
for by firmness I mean^ not only strength^ but
stability) ; firm, to support the erect position of
body ; flexible, to allow of the bending of the
trunk in all degrees of curvature. It was
further also (which is another and quite a dis-
tinct purpose from the rest) to become a tube
or conduit^ for the safe conveyance from the
brain of the most important substance of the
animal frame^ that^ namely^ upon which both
sensation and motion depend^ the spinal mar-
row ; a substance not only of the first necessity
to action^ if not to life^ but of a nature so deli-
cate and tender, so susceptible^ and so impatien!
of injury^ as that any unusual pressure upon it^
or any considerable obstruction of its course, is
followed by paralysis or death. Now the spine
was not only to furnish the main canal for the
passage of the medullary substance from the
brain^ but to give egress^ in the course of its pro-
gress^ to off-shoots therefrom^ which^ being after-
wards indefinitely subdivided^ mighty under the
name of nerves^ distribute this exquisite supply
to every part of the body. The same spine was
also to serve another use not less wanted than
the preceding, viz. to afford a fulcrum, stay, or
basis (or, more properly speaking, a series of

lU

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

these) ^ for the insertion of the muscles which
act upon this lon^ lever or moveable column :
and likewise to afford an attachment and to
furnish a support for the ends of the ribs to rest
upon.

Bespeak of a workman a piece of mechanism
which shall comprise all these purposes, and let
him set about to contrive it; let him try his
skill upon it ; let him feel the difficulty of
accomplishing the task, before he be told how
the same thing is effected in the animal frame.
Nothing will enable him to judge so well of the
wisdom which has been employed ; nothing will
dispose him to think of it so truly.

The spine in man consists of twenty-four
bones, which are so connected together by elas-
tic cartilage or gristle, interposed between each
two which are in juxtaposition, as to form a
long, continuous lever, upon which numerous
muscles act in bending the body in different
directions. This column supports the head on
its summit, and the accumulating weight of the
arms and chest around it. Further, this column
is perforated in its centre by a canal which
lodges the spinal marrow. Thus it will be
observed that the spine exemplifies all the offices
required of bones in different parts of the
skeleton ; and, in addition to these, it is requi-

ARRANGEMENT IN THE HUMAN FRAME. 115

site that the column should be pliable,, whilst it
retains its strength and secures the delicate
nervous cord within it. To fulfil these purposes
it is necessary that this long lever should be
flexible; and this very property is its best
security against injury from sudden and violent
shocks, which would break, instead of simply
bending, a continuous inflexible column. But
it is also essential that its integral parts
should be so knit together as to obviate the
risk of dislocation from one another. This is
accomplished by the firm adhesion of the inter-
vening cartilage between the adjoining bones,
and by the interlocking of the small joints
between these bones ; and so perfectly do these
arrangements fulfil their office, that, although
violence may break the bones, a simple dis-
placement of one from another without such
fracture can scarcely occur. Moreover, the
mechanical arrangement of these connecting
cartilages is peculiar and complicated, for they
are disposed in concentric circles, which are
very dense and resisting externally, but become
gradually softer and more compressible within ;
whereby elastic yielding is combined with
security. Furthermore, when the spine is
viewed as a whole, it is observed that it be-
comes gradually thicker and stronger from above

T 2

116

NATUllAL THEOLOGY.

downwards^, and also that the interlocking of
the bones with each other becomes successively
closer ; and these conditions are obviously de-
signed to compensate for the accumulating
weight to he sustained, and the increasing
leverage, and the consequently greater risk of
fracture to which the column is subjected at its
lower part. There is yet another and very
interesting arrangement to be noticed, and that
is the curves into which the spine is thrown, viz.
a large backward curve in the centre, and a
smaller one above and below, which are exactly
equivalent to the single large curve. For what
purpose do these exist ? In the first place,
greater space is afforded for the lungs and heart
in the chest; secondly, the column is much
strengthened by the greater readiness with
which these curves yield under pressure ; and
thirdly, and perhaps most important of all, by
this ready yielding the jar or shock which is con-
veyed upwards through the spine to the head,
in running or jumping, is materially lessened.
The spinal column is firmly fixed on the central
bone of the pelvis or basin, and the superincum-
bent weight is thence distributed, through an
irregular arch of bone on either side, to the
lower extremities. The general result is, that
not only the motions of the human body neces-

ARllANGEMENT IN THE HUMAN FRAME. 117

sary for the ordinary offices of life are performed
with safety, but that it is an accident hardly
ever heard of, that even the gesticulations of a
harlequin injuriously distort his spine.

Upon the whole, and as a guide to those who
may be inclined to carry the consideration of
this subject further, there are three views under
which the spine ought to be regarded, and in each
of which it cannot fail to excite our admiration.
These views relate to its articulations, its liga-
ments, and its perforation ; and to the corre-
sponding advantages which the body derives
from these features of its construction, for action,
for strength, and for that which is essential to
every part, a secure communication with the brain.

In Fish, where great flexibilit}^ of the spine
is required, for the purpose of permitting the
lateral movements of the body in swimming,
each vertebra is excavated into two conical
eups, the apices of which are nearly or quite
continuous. The hollow space which thus
exists between each two contiguous vertebrae, is
occupied by a soft gelatinous substance, and
the adjoining vertebrae are bound together by
an elastic membrane, which permits of great
freedom of movement, and aids in economizing
muscular force.

In Serpents again, where similar flexibility is

118

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

essential^ but greater strength and precision of
movement are also indispensable^ the con-
struction of the spine is admirably adapted to

VERTEllRjE OF COD, ETC.

1. Vertical section of two vertebrae of a Cod, showing their mode of
connexion.

2. Two vertebrae of the Boa, seen from above.

fulfil the former requirement without sacrificing
the latter ; for each vertebra presents a smooth
ball in fronts which is fitted into a correspond-
ing excavation or socket at the back part of the
adjoining vertebra which is in front of it.
Thus each two vertebrae which are in contact
form a complete ball-and-socket joint between
them^ permitting free movement in every direc-
tion ; which is^ however^ so far limited by lateral

ARRANGEMENT IN THE HUMAN ERAME. 119

joints^ as to obviate the risk^of displacement.
Moreover^ as snakes are dependent on the move-
ments of their ribs for progression^ these bones
are united to the spine by joints_, somewhat
similar to those of the vertebrae with each other,
and are moved by powerful muscles freely in
every direction ; — far more freely than where
the ribs merely form the walls of the chest,
which rise and fall in breathing.

In Birds, the cervical vertebrae vary in num])er
according to the length of the neck, which is
adapted to the requirements of the animal ; and
in this class the required flexibility is obtained
by the different bones being joined together
without the interposition of any elastic cartilage.
But lower down, the vertebrae of the chest form
a continuous chain of bones, firmly united
together, to afford an unyielding support to
the wings and the muscles which move them.

The structure and connexion of the bones
of the Skull exemplify, in a remarkable way,
mechanical contrivance. Its arched form ren-
ders it capable of resisting external violence ;
and the texture of the bones which compose
this vault is expressly designed to add to the
strength of the whole. They consist of an
outer layer which is tough and resisting like
closely-fibred wood, and an inner laver which is

12U

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

much more dense and brittle. Between these
layers is an intervening space^ occupied by
a mesh-work of delicate bony fibres^ which
have the appearance of a series of cells. By
this arrangement the effects of any jar or
concussion are broken and diminished ; and the
outer layer may be injured without the inner one
necessarily suffering : and it may be added that
each layer has its independent supply of blood
from different sources ; so that if the outer layer
perishes^ the inner one may be preserved. The
mode in which these two layers of bone are joined
together in the arched segments of the skull
is admirably adapted to their structure ; for the
outer tough layer is united by the dove- tailing of
the saw-like edges of the bones together_, just as
a cabinet-maker would work : but the inner layer
of the adjoining bones^ which is hard and fragile^
is joined by simple adaptation of their margins^
as the statuary would join two pieces of marble.

The Chest contains the heart and lungs^
which are as important to life as the brain ;
yet it is essential that its walls should admit
of being altered in shape and capacity for the
purposes of breathing. Its protection from
injury is therefore secured in a different way
from that which obtains in the skull_, for its
elasticity permits of its yielding to external

ARRANGEMENT IN THE HUMAN FRAME. 1;M

violence ; and this property also economizes
muscular power in breathing. The chie^
agency by which we draw in breath is an
arched muscular partition between the chest
and abdomen^ which^ by its contraction^ eii-
oroaches upon the latter cavity; and thus the
space in the chest is enlarged at its expense^
and the air rushes in to fill the lungs. To
facilitate these movements the ribs are joined
to the spine by strong but moveable joints_, and
the space between each two adjoining ribs is
occupied by muscles which draw them upwards
and outwards ; and the front ends of these
bones are united to the breast-bone by elastic
cartilage or gristle. In ordinary breathing the
pressure of the elastic walls of the chest and
lungs forces out the air ; but when we cough
or sneeze^ the muscles of the abdomen compress
that cavity and forcibly expel the air from the
lungs.

The knee-pan or Patella is a nearly flat but
thick bone_, somewhat larger than a crown-piece^
placed in front of the knee-joint^ of which it
forms a part. It answers two purposes ; firsts
it is a protection to the joints as in kneeling;
and secondly, it gives considerable mechanical
advantage to the great muscles which straighten
the leg, for they are attached to the knee-pan

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

above, and this bone is again connected to the
large bone of the leg by a strong ligament.
Thus^ in the hinge-like movements of the knee-
joint^ this little bone plays over the front of the
lower end of the thigh-bone, as over a pulley.
The convenience and advantage of this mecha-
nism is obvious.

Throughout the skeleton, and especially in
the limbs, the texture of the bones, in the
arrangement of the fibres which compose them,
is framed on the strictest mechanical principles,
so as to add to their strength without increas-
ing their weight.

OF THE JOINTS.

I. To almost all the bones belong joints ;
and in these, still more clearly than in the form
or shape of the bones themselves, are seen both
contrivance and contriving wisdom. Every joint
is a curiosity, and is also strictly mechanical.
There is the hinge -joint, and the ball-and-socket
joint ; each as manifestly such, and as accurately
defined, as any which can be produced out of a
cabinet-maker^s shop : and one or the other
prevails, as either is adapted to the motion
which is wanted : e.g. a ball-and-socket joint is
not required at the knee, the leg standing in
need only of a motion backward and forward in

ARRANGEMENT IN THE HUMAN FRAME. 123

the same plane_, for which a hinge-joint is
sufficient ; a ball-and-socket joint is wanted at
the hip^ that not only the progressive step may
be provided foi% but the interval between the
limbs may be enlarged or contracted at pleasure.
Now observe what would have been the in-
conveniency^ i. e. both the superfluity and the
defect of articulation^ if the case had been
inverted : if the ball-and-socket joint had been
at the knee^ and the hinge joint at the hip.
The thighs must have been kept constantly
together^ and the legs have been loose and
straddling. There would have been no use^
that we know of^ in being able to turn the
calves of the legs before : and there would have
been great confinement by restraining the
motion of the thighs to one plane. The dis-
advantage would not have been less^ if the
joints at the hip and the knee had been both of
the same sort ; both balls and sockets^ or both
hinges : yet why, independently of utility,
and of a Creator who consulted that utility,
should the same bone (the thigh-bone) be
rounded at one end, and channelled at the
other ?

II. Strong ligaments or bands extend over
and around the ends of the bones, keeping the
corresponding parts of the joint, i. e. the relative

12 i

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

convexities and concavities^ in close application
to each other.

For the hall-and-sochet joint at the hip,
beside the membrane already described, there is,
as an additional security, a short, strong, yet
flexible ligament, inserted by one end into the
head of the ball, by the other into the
cup ; which ligament keeps the two parts of
the joint so firmly in their place, that none of
the motions which the limb naturally performs,
none of the jerks and twists to which it is
ordinarily liable, nothing less indeed than the
utmost and the most unnatural violence, can
pull them asunder. It is hardly imaginable,
how great a force is necessary to break this
ligament ; yet it opposes no impediment to the
suppleness of the joint. By its situation also,
it is inaccessible to injury from sharp edges.
As it can scarcely be ruptured (such is its
strength), so it cannot be cut, except by an
accident which would sever the limb. More-
over, there is a hollow at the bottom of the cup,
in which this ligament is lodged, so that it may
not interfere with the movements of the joint. If
I had been permitted to frame a proof of
contrivance, such as might satisfy the most
distrustful inquirer, I know not whether I could
have chosen an example of mechanism more

AURANGEMEJST IN THE HUMAN FRAME. 125

unequivocal^ or more free from objection, than
this ligament. Nothing can be more mechanical ;
nothings however subservient to the safety_, less
capable of being generated by the action^ of the
joint. I would particularly solicit the reader^s
attention to this provision^ as it is found in the
head of the thigh-hone) to its strength^ its
structure^ and its use. It is an instance upon
which I lay my hand. One single fact^ weighed
by a mind in earnest^ leaves oftentimes the
deepest impression. For the purpose of address-
ing different understandings and different appre-
hensions^— for the purpose of sentiment^ for the
purpose of exciting admiration of the Creators
works^ we diversify our views^ we multiply
examples ; but for the purpose of strict argu-
ment^ one clear instance is sufficient : and not
only sufficient, but capable perhaps of generating
a firmer assurance than what can arise from a
divided attention.

The ends of bones forming the hinge-joints
are also usually tied together by outside liga-
ments only ; but the knee presents a remarkable
exception to this rule. In order to facilitate
free movement in this large joints the cup on
the great bone of the leg, the tibia, is shallow ;
and although the outside ligaments are strong,
the interior of the joint has two very thick

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

126

bands^ which cross each other as they pass from
the thigh-bone to the tibia. Their speeial use,
besides the general strength they afford^ is to
limit the twisting or rotatory movement of one
bone on the other. Moreover the cups on the
head of the tibia — for the hollow on this bone
is divided in the eentre — are deepened by two
creseentie cartilages interposed between the joint-
surfaees. Freedom of movement is thus in-
creased^ whilst risk of displacement is diminished.

ARCH OF THE HUMAN FOOT.

Bones of the human foot, showing its arched form, and the part articu-
lating with the bones of the leg to form the ankle-joint.

Another no less important joint is the ankle ;
yet though important it is (in order, perhaps, to
preserve the symmetry and lightness of the
limb) small, and, on that account, more liable to
injury. Now this joint is strengthened, i. e.
is defended from dislocation, by two remarkable
processes or prolongations of the bones of the
leg : which processes form the protuberances
that we call the inner and outer ankle. These
are formed by a part of each bone going down

ARRANGEMENT IN THE HUMAN FRAME. 1^7

lower than the other part^ and thereby overlap-
ping the joint ; so that^ if the joint be in danger
of slipping outward, it is curbed by the inner
projection, i. e. that of the tibia ; if inward, by
the outer projection, i. e. that of the fibula.
Between both, it is locked in its position. I
know no account that can be given of this
structure, except its utility. Why should the
tibia terminate, at its lower extremity, with a
double end, and the fibula the same — but to
barricade the joint on both sides by a continua-
tion of part of the thickness of the bone over it ?

III. The joint at the shoulder compared with
the joint at the hAp, though both are ball-and-
socket joints, discovers a difference in their form
and proportions, well suited to the different offices
which the limbs have to execute. The cup or
socket at the shoulder is much shallower and
flatter than it is at the hip, and is also in part
formed of cartilage set round the rim of the cup.
The socket, into which the head of the thigh-bone
is inserted, is deeper, and made of more solid
materials. This agrees with the duties assigned
to each part. The arm is an instrument oi
motion, principally, if not solely. Accordingly
the shallowness of the socket at the shoulder,
and the large size of the ball which plays in it,
are excellently adapted for the allowance of a

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

Ig8

free motion and a wide range^ both of which
the arm wants ; and the strong tendons which
enclose the joint compensate for its natural
weakness of form. Whereas^ in the case of the
lower limb, forming a part of the column of the
body, having to support the body, as well as to
be the means of its locomotion, firmness was to
be consulted, as well as action. With a capacity
for motion, in all directions indeed, as at the
shoulder, but not in any direction to the same
extent as in the arm, was to be united stability,
or resistance to dislocation.

The suppleness and pliability of the joints
we every moment experience ; and the firmness
of animal articulation, the property we have
hitherto been considering, may be judged of
from this single observation, that, at any given
moment of time, there are millions of animal
joints in complete repair and use, for one that
is dislocated; and this, notwithstanding the
contortions and wrenches to which the limbs of
animals are continually subject.

IV. In all joints that are moveable, the ends
of the bones are covered with cartilage or gristle,
which, from its smooth and elastic nature, con-
tributes greatly to the ease with which they
work against each other, and also to diminish
the effect of jarring of the surfaces from vio-

ARRANC4EMENT IN THE HUMAN FRAME. 129

lence. The minute arrangement of this carti-
lage structure^ where subject to pressure and
friction, resembles that of the pile on the surface
of velvet.

In some joints, very particularly in the knees,
there are loose cartilages or gristles between
the bones, and within the joint, so that the
ends of the bones, instead of working upon
one another, work upon the intermediate carti-
lages. Thus, these joints are deepened, and they
work more freely, with less risk of displacement.

V. We have now done with the configuration ;
but there is also in the joints, and that common
to them all, another exquisite provision, mani-
festly adapted to their use, and concerning
w^ich there can, I think, be no dispute ; namely,
the regular supply of a mucilage, more emollient
and slippery than oil itself, which is constantly
softening and lubricating the parts that rub
upon each other, and thereby diminishing the
effect of attrition in the highest possible degree.
The manner in which grease is supplied from a
box to the axle of a rapidly revolving wheel
may be said, in some sort, to represent the
contrivance in the animal joint ; with this
superiority, however, on the part of the joint,
viz. that here, the oil is not only dropped, but
made.

X

130

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

In considering the joints^ there is nothings
perhaps^, which ought to move our gratitude
more than the reflection^ liow well they wear, A
limb shall swing upon its hinge^ or play in its
socket^ many hundred times in an hour^ for
sixty years together^ without diminution of its
agility : which is a long time for anything to
last; for anything so much worked and exer-
cised as the joints are. This durability I should
attribute^ in part^ to the provision which is
made for the preventing of wear and tear^ firsts
by the polish of the cartilaginous surfaces ;
secondly, by the lubrication of the mucilage;
and, in part, to that astonishing property
of animal constitutions, assimilation, by which,
in every portion of the body, let it consist* of
what it will, substance is restored, and waste
repaired.

Moveable joints, I think, compose the curi-
osity of bones ; but their union, even where no
motion is intended or wanted, carries marks of
mechanism and of mechanical wisdom. The
teeth, especially the front teeth, are one bone
fixed in another, like a peg driven into a board.
The sutures of the skull are like the edges of
two saws clapped together, in such a manner as
that the teeth of one enter the intervals of the
other. We have sometimes one bone lapping

ARRANGEMENT OF THE HUMAN FRAME. 131

over another, and planed down at the edges ;
sometimes also the thin lamella of one bone
received into a narrow furrow of another. In
all which varieties we seem to discover the
same design^ viz. firmness of juncture, without
clumsiness in the seam.

K

2

^32

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

CHAPTER IX.

OP THE MUSCLES.

Muscles^ with their tendons^ are the instru-
ments by which animal motion is performed.
It will be our business to point out instances in
which^ and properties with respect to which, the
disposition of these muscles is as strictly me-
chanical, as that of the wires and strings of a
puppet.

I. We may observe, what I believe is univer-
sal, an exact relation between the joint and the
muscles which move it. Whatever motion the
joint, by its mechanical construction, is capable
of performing, that motion the annexed muscles,
by their position, are capable of producing. For
example ; if there be, as at the knee and elbow,
a hinge- joint, capable of motion only in the
same plane, the leaders as they are called, i. e.
the muscular tendons, are placed in directions
parallel to the bone, so as, by the contraction

OF THE MTTSCLEy.

13:5

or relaxation of the muscles to which they
belong, to produce that motion and no other.
If these joints were capable of a freer motion,
there are no muscles to produce it. Wherea^>
at the shoulder and the hip, where the ball and
socket joint allows by its construction of a
rotatory or sweeping motion, tendons are placed
in such a position, and pull in such a direction,
as to produce the motion of which the joint
admits. For instance, the sartorius or tailor^s
muscle, rising from the pelvis, running diago-
nally across the thigh, and taking hold of the
inside of the main bone of the leg, a little
below the knee, enables us, by its contraction,
to throw one leg over the other, and to roll the
thigh outwards, giving effect, at the same time,
to the ball-and-socket joint at the hip, and the
hinge joint at the knee. There is, as we have
seen, a specific mechanism in the bones, for the
rotatory motions of the head and hands : there
is, also, in the oblique direction of the muscles
belonging to them, a specific provision for the
putting of this mechanism of the bones into
action. And mark the consent of uses. The
oblique muscles would have been inefficient
without that particular articulation ; that par-
ticular articulation would have been lost, with-
out the oblique muscles. It may be proper.

134

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

however, to observe with respect to the heady
although I think it does not vary the case, that
its oblique motions and inclinations are often
motions in a diagonal y produced by the joint
action of muscles lying in straight directions.
But whether the pull be single or com-
bined, the articulation is always such, as to be
capable of obeying the action of the muscles.
The oblique muscles attached to the head are
likewise so disposed, as to be capable of steadying
as well as of moving it. The head of a new-born
infant is often obliged to be filleted up. After
death, the head drops and rolls in every direction.
So that it is by the equilibre of the muscles,
by the aid of a considerable and equipollent
muscular force in constant exertion, that the
head maintains its erect posture. The muscles
here supply what would otherwise be a great
defect in the articulation ; for the joint in the
neck, although admirably adapted to the motion
of the head, is insufiicient for its support. It
is not only by the means of a most curious
structure of the bones that a man turns his
head, but by virtue of an adjusted muscular
power, that he even holds it up.

As another example of what we are illustrating,
viz. conformity of use between the bones and
the muscles, the surface of the joint is exactly

OF THE MUSCLES.

185

proportioned to the quantity of motion which
the respective muscles are capable of producing.

The action of most muscles is controlled by
the will ; and for that purpose it is^ of course,
necessary that the existing condition of the
muscle, as to its preparedness to act, should be
perceived and known, otherwise volition could
not be exercised. We can be made acquainted
with this only by nerves communicating between
the muscle and the brain, from which the man-
date of the will is issued. It has been proposed
to call this perception the muscular sense,

II. A muscle acts only by contraction. Its
force is exerted in no other way. When the
exertion ceases, it relaxes itself, that is, it
returns by simple relaxation to its former state.
This is the nature of the muscular fibre; and
being so, it is evident that the reciprocal
energetic motion of the limbs, by which we mean
motion with force in opposite directions, can
only be produced by the instrumentality of
opposite or antagonist muscles ; of flexors and
extensors answering to each other. For instance,
the biceps and brachiseus anticus muscles, placed
in the front part of the upper arm, by their con-
traction bend the elbow ; and with such degree
of force as the case requires, or the strength
admits of. The relaxation of these muscles,

Fig.l

Fig. 2

Fig 1. Muscles (flexors) for bending the arm : a the biceps originate,
ing at two points, b, on the scapula, and attached by a tendon to the
radius c ; also the inner muscle, brachialis anticns^ n, inserted at e, on
the ulna.

Fig 2. The muscle for extending the arm, the triceps, a, the three
portions of which, b, arise from the humerus, d, and scapula e, being
inserted at tiie olecranon process, or elbow, c ; this muscle is also shown
in Fig 1, attached to the elbow at f.

OF THE MUSCLES.

137

after the effort^ would merely let the fore-arm
drop down. For the hack stroke y therefore,, and
that the arm may not only bend at the elbow,
but also extend and straighten itself with force,
other muscles, the triceps and the anconseus,
placed on the hinder part of the arms, by their
contractile twitch fetch back the fore-arm into a
straight line with the cubit, with no less force
than that with which it was bent out of it.
The same thing obtains in all the limbs, and in
every moveable part of the body. A finger is not
bent and straightened, without the contraction
of two muscles taking place. It is evident,
therefore, that the animal functions require that
particular disposition of the muscles which we
describe by the name of antagonist muscles.
And they are accordingly so disposed. They
act, like two sawyers in a pit, by an opposite
pull ; and nothing surely can more strongly
indicate design and attention to an end, than
their being thus stationed, than this collocation.
The nature of the muscular fibre being what it
is, the purposes of the animal could be answered
by no other. And not only the capacity for
motion, but the aspect and symmetry of the
body, is preserved by the muscles being mar-
shalled according to this order ; e. g. the mouth
is holden in the middle of the face, and its

138

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

angles kept in a state of exact correspondency,
by two muscles drawing against and balancing

MUSCLES OF the FACE,

To show the sphincter of the mouth and eye. One side exhibits the
superficial muscles, and the other those which lie immediately beneath
them.

each other. In a hemiplegia, when the muscle
on one side is weakened, the muscle on the other
side draws the mouth awry.

OF THE MUSCLES.

139

III. Another property of the muscles, which
■could only be the result of care, is, their being
almost universally so disposed, as not to obstruct
or interfere with one another's action. Now,
when we reflect upon the number of muscles,
between four and five hundred, in the human
body, known and named ; how contiguous they
lie to each other, in layers, as it were, over
one another, crossing one another, sometimes
embedded in one another, sometimes perforating
one another : we cannot but be convinced that
an arrangement, which leaves to each its liberty
and its full play, must necessarily have required
meditation and counsel.

IV. The following is oftentimes the case with
the muscles. Their action is wanted where
their situation would be inconvenient. In which
case, the body of the muscle is placed in some
commodious position at a distance, and made to
communicate with the point of action, by slender
strings or wires. If the muscles which move
the fingers had been placed in tlie palm or back
of the hand, they would have swelled that part
to an awkward and clumsy thickness. The
beauty, the proportions, and the utility of the
part, would have been destroyed. They are
therefore disposed in the arm, and even up to
the elbow ; and act by long tendons, strapped

140

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

down at the wrist^ and passing under the liga-
ments to the fingers^ and to the joints of the
fingers, which they are severally to move. In
like manner, the muscles which move the toe^’,
and many of the joints of the foot, how grace, -
fully are they disposed in the calf of the leg,
instead of forming an unwieldy tumefaction
in the foot itself! The observation may be
repeated of the muscle which draws the nicti-
tating membrane over the eye. Its office is in
the front of the eye ; but its body is lodged in the
back part of the globe, where it lies safe, and
wher? it encumbers nothing.

V. The great mechanical variety in the figure
of the muscles may be thus stated. It appears
to be a fixed law, that the contraction of a
muscle shall be towards its centre. Therefore
the subject for mechanism on each occasion is,
so to modify the figure, and adjust the position
of the muscle, as to produce the motion required,
agreeably with this law. This can only be done
by giving to different muscles a diversity of
configuration, suited to their several offices,
and to their situation with respect to the work
which they have to perform. On which ac-
count we find them under a multiplicity of
forms and attitudes; sometimes with double,
sometimes with treble, tendons, sometimes with

OF THE MUSCLES.

141

none : sometimes one tendon to several muscles,
at other times one muscle to several tendons.
Again, the obliquity in the course of the fibres
of a muscle, as they pass to be inserted into its
tendon, adds velocity to their movement, though
with a corresponding sacrifice of power. The
shape of the organ is susceptible of an incalcu-
lable variety, whilst the original property of the
muscle, the law and line of its contraction,
remains the same, and is simple. Herein the
muscular system may be said to bear a perfect
resemblance to our works of art. An artist
does not alter the native quality of his materials,
or their laws of action. He takes these as
he finds them. His skill and ingenuity are
employed in turning them, such as they are, to
his account, by giving to the parts of his
machine a form and relation, in which these
unalterable properties may operate to the pro-
duction of the effects intended.

VI. The ejaculations can never too often be
repeated; — How many things must go right for
us to be an hour at ease ! how many more for us
to be vigorous and active ! Yet vigour and
activity are, in a vast plurality of instances,
preserved in human bodies, notwithstanding
that they depend upon so great a number of
instruments of motion, and notwithstanding

142

NATURAL theology.

that the defect or disorder sometimes of a veiy
small instrument^ of a single pair, for in-
stance, out of the four hundred and fifty muscles
which are employed, may be attended with
grievous inconveniency. There is piety and
good sense in the following observation, taken
out of the Religious PhilosojoJier : With much
compassion,^^ says this writer, as well as
astonishment at the goodness of our loving
Creator, have I considered the sad state of a
certain gentleman, who, as to the rest, was in
pretty good health, but only wanted the use of
these two little muscles that serve to lift up the
eyelids, and so had almost lost the use of his
sight, being forced, as long as this defect lasted,
to shove up his eyelids every moment with his
own hands ! — In general we may remark in
how small a degree those, who enjoy the .perfect
use of their organs, know the comprehensiveness
of the blessing, the variety of their obligation.
They perceive a result, but they think little of
the multitude of concurrences, and rectitudes
which go to form it.

Beside these observations, which belong to
the muscular organ as such, we may notice some
advantages of structure, which are more con-
spicuous in muscles of a certain class or descrip-
tion than in others. Thus : — •

OF THE MUSCLES.

143

I. The variety^ quickness^ and precision^ of
which muscular motion is capable^ are seen^ I
think^ in no part so remarkably as in the tongue.
It is worth any man-^s while to watch the agility
of his tongue ; the wonderful promptitude with
which it executes changes of position, and the
perfect exactness. Each syllable of articulated
sound requires for its utterance a specific action
of the tongue, and of the parts adjacent to it.
The disposition and configuration of the mouth,
appertaining to every letter and word, is not
only peculiar, but, if nicely and accurately
attended to, perceptible to the sight ; insomuch,
that curious persons have availed themselves of
this circumstance to teach the deaf to speak, and
to understand what is said by others. In the
same person, and after his habit of speaking is
formed, one, and only one, position of the parts,
will produce a given articulate sound correctly.
How instantaneously are these positions assumed
and dismissed ! how numerous are the permuta-
tions, how various, yet how infallible ! Arbi-
trary and antic variety is not the thing we
admire; but variety obeying a rule, conducing
to an effect, and commensurate with exigencies
infinitely diversified. I believe also that the
anatomy of the tongue corresponds with these
observations upon its activity. The muscles of

144

KATUKAL THEOLOGY.

the tongue are numerous^ and implicated with
one another ; nevertheless (which is a great
perfection of the organ), neither the number
nor the complexity in any wise impede its
motion, or render the determination or success
of its efforts uncertain.

I HERE entreat the reader^s permission, to step
a little out of my way to consider the parts of
the mouthy in some of their other properties. It
has been said that, whenever nature attempts
to work two or more purposes by one instru-
ment, she does both or all imperfectly. Is this
true of the tongue, regarded as an instrument of
speech, and of taste ; or regarded as an instru-
ment of speech, of taste, and of deglutition?
So much otherwise, that many persons, that is
to say, nine hundred and ninety-nine persons
out of a thousand, by the instrumentality of
this one organ, talk, and taste, and swallow,
very well. In fact, I he constant warmth and
moisture of the tongue, the thinness of the skin,
the papillae upon its surface, qualify this organ
for its office of tasting, as much as its multipli-
city of fibres do for the rapid movements which
are necessary to speech. Animals which feed
upon grass have their tongues covered with
a perforated skin, so as to admit the dissolved

OF THE MUSCLES.

145

food to the papillsD underneath, which, in the
meantime, remain defended from the rough action
of the unbruised spiculie.

There are brought together within the cavity
of the mouth more distinct uses, and parts exe-
cuting more distinct offices, than I think can be
found lying so near to one another, or within the
same compass, in any other portion of the body ;
viz. teeth of different shape, first for cutting,
secondly for grinding ; muscles, most artificially
disposed for carrying on the compound motion
of the lower jaw, half lateral and half vertical, by
which the mill is worked : fountains of saliva^
springing up in different parts of the cavity for
the moistening of the food, whilst the mastication
is going on : glands, to feed the fountains ; a mus-
cular constriction of a very peculiar kind in the
back part of the cavity, for the guiding of the
prepared aliment into its passage towards the
stomach, and in many cases for carrying it along
that passage; for, although we may imagine
this to be done simply by the weight of the food
itself, it in truth is not so, even in the upright
posture of the human neck ; and most evidently
is not the case with quadrupeds, with a horse
for instance, in which, when pasturing, the food
is thrust upward by muscular strength, instead
of descending of its own accord.

L

146

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

In the meantime^ and within the same cavity,
is going on another business, altogether different
from what is here described, — that of respiration
and speech. In addition therefore to all that has
been mentioned, we have a passage opened, from
this cavity to the lungs, for the admission of air,
exclusively of every other substance ; we have
muscles, some in the larynx, and without num-
ber in the tongue, for the purpose of modulating
that air in its passage, with a variety, a com-
pass and precision, of which no other musical
instrument is capable. And lastly, which in my
opinion crowns the whole as a piece of machinery,
we have a specific contrivance for dividing the
pneumatic part from the mechanical, and for
preventing one set of actions interfering with the
other. Where various functions are united, the
difficulty is to guard against the inconveniences
of a too great complexity. In no apparatus put
together by art, and for the purposes of art, do
I know such multifarious uses so aptly combined,
as in the natural organization of the human
mouth ; or, where the structure, compared with
the uses, is so simple. The mouth, with all
these intentions to serve, is a single cavity ; is
one machine ; with its parts neither crowded nor
confused, and each unembarrassed by the rest :
each at least at liberty in a degree sufficieLo for

OF THE MUSCLES.

147

the end to be attained. If we cannot eat and
sing at the same moment^ we can eat one
moment, and sing the next : the respiration
proceeding freely all the while.

There is one case however of this double office,
and that of the earliest necessity, which the
mouth alone could not perform ; and that is,
carrying on together the two actions of sucking
and breathing. Another route therefore is
opened for the air, namely, through the nose,
which lets the breath pass backward and forward,
whilst the lips, in the act of sucking, are
necessarily shut close upon the body from which
the nutriment is drawn. This is a circumstance
which always appeared to me worthy of notice.
The nose would have been necessary, although it
had not been the organ of smelling. The making
it the seat of a sense, was superadding a new use
to a part already wanted ; was taking a wise
advantage of an antecedent and a constitutional
necessity.

But to return to that which is the proper
subject of the present section, — the celerity and
precision of muscular motion. These qualities
may be particularly observed in the execution of
many species of instrumental music, in which
the changes produced by the hand of the musician
L 2

148

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

are exceedingly rapid ; are exactly measured,
even when most minute ; and display, on the
part of the muscles, an obedience of action, alike
wonderful for its quickness and its correctness.

Or let a person only observe his own hand
whiist he is writing ; the number of muscles
(vJtiich are brought to bear upon the pen ; how
the joint and adjusted operation of several
muscles is concerned in every stroke, yet that
five hundred such strokes are drawn in a minute.
Not a letter can be turned without more than
pne, or two, or three muscular contractions,
definite, both as to the choice of the muscle, and
as to the space through which the contraction
moves ; yet how currently does the work pro-
ceed ! and when we look at it, how faithful have
the muscles been to their duty, how true to the
order which endeavour or habit hath inculcated !
For let it be remembered that, whilst a man^s
hand- writing is the same, an exactitude of order
is preserved, whether he write well, or ill.
These two instances, of music and writing, show
not only the quickness and precision of muscular
action, but the docility.

II. Regarding the particular configuration of
muscles, sjghincter or circular muscles appear to
me admirable pieces of mechanism. It is the
muscular power most happily applied ; the same

OF THE MUSCLES.

149

quality of the muscular substance^ hut under a
new modification. The circular disposition of
the fibres is strictly mechanical ; but^ though
the most mechanical^ is not the only thing in
sphincters which deserves our notice. The regu-
lated degree of contractile force with which they
are endowed^ sufficient for retention^ yet vincible
when requisite, together with their ordinary
state of actual contraction, by means of which
their dependence upon the will is not constant,
but occasional, gives to them a constitution, of
which the conveniency is inestimable. This,
their semi-voluntary character, is exactly such
as suits with the wants and functions of the
animal.

III. We may also, while upon the subject of
muscles, observe, that many of our most impor-
tant actions are achieved by the combined help
of different muscles. Frequently a diagonal
motion is produced, by the contraction of tendons
pulling in the direction of the sides of the
parallelogram. This is the case, as hath been
already noticed, with some of the oblique nuta-
tions of the head. Sometimes the number of
co-operating muscles is very great. Such is the
case every time we breathe ; yet we take in, or
let out, our breath, without reflecting what a
work is thereby performed : what an apparatus

150

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

is laid in of instruments for the service^ and
how many such contribute their assistance to
the effect ! Breathing with ease is a blessing
of every moment ; yet, of all others, it is that
which we possess with the least consciousness.
A man in an asthma is the only man who
knows how to estimate it.

IV. Some of the most important and the
most delicate actions are performed in the body
by the smallest muscles ; as, for instance, around
the pupil of the eye, and in the drum of the ear.
The tenuity of these muscles is astonishing;
yet are they real, effective muscles; and not
only such, but the grandest and most precious
of our faculties, sight and hearing, depend upon
their health and action.

V. The muscles act in the limbs with what
is called a mechanical disadvantage. The muscle
at the shoulder, by which the arm is raised, is
fixed nearly in the same manner as the load is
fixed upon a steelyard, within a few decimals,
we will say, of an inch, from the centre upon
which the steelyard turns. In this situation, we
find that a very heavy draught is no more than
sufficient to countervail the force of a small lead
plummet, placed upon the long arm of the steel-
yard, at the distance of perhaps fifteen or twenty
inches from the centre, and on the other side of it.

OF THE MUSCLES.

151

And this is the disadvantage whieh is meant.
And an absolute disadvantage, no doubt, it
would be, if the object were to spare the force
of muscular contraction. But observe how con-
ducive is this constitution to animal conveniency.
Mechanism has always in view one or other of
these two purposes ; either to move a great
weight slowly, and through a small space, or
to move a light weight rapidly, through a
considerable sweep. For the former of these
purposes, a different species of lever, and a
different collocation of the muscles, might be
better than the present ; but for the second, the
present structure is the true one. Now so it
happens, that the second, and not the first, is
that which the occasions of animal life prin-
cipally call for. In what concerns the human
body, it is of much more consequence to any
man to be able to carry his hand to his head
with due expedition, than it would be to have
the power of raising from the ground a heavier
load (of two or three more hundredweight, we
will suppose,) than he can lift at present. < This
last is a faculty which, on some extraordinary
occasions, he may desire to possess; but the
other is what he wants and uses every hour
or minute. In like manner, a husbandman, or
a gardener, will do more execution, by being

152

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

able to carry his scythe^ his rake, or his flail,
with a sufficient despatch through a sufficient
space, than if, with greater strength, his motions
were proportionably more confined and slow.
It is the same with a mechanic in the use of
his tools. It is the same also with other
animals in the use of their limbs. In general,
the vivacity of their motions would be ill
exchanged for greater force under a clumsier
structure.

We have offered our observations upon the
structure of muscles in general ; we have also
noticed certain species of muscles : but there
are also single muscles, which bear marks of
mechanical contrivance appropriate as well as
particular. Out of many instances of this kind,
we select the following.

I, Of muscular actions, even of those which
are well understood, some of the most curious
are incapable of popular explanation ; at least,
without the aid of plates and figures. This is
in a great measure the case with a very fa-
miliar, but, at the same time, a very complicated
motion, — that of the lower jaw; and with the
muscular structure by which it is produced.
One of the muscles concerned may, however, be
described in such a manner, as to be, I think,
sufficiently comprehended for our present pur-

OF THE MUSCLES.

153

pose. The problem is to pull the lower jaw
down. The obvious method should seem to be,
to place a straight muscle, viz. to fix a string
from the chin to the breast, the contraction of
which would open the mouth, and produce the
motion required at once. But it is evident that
the form and liberty of the neck forbid a muscle
being laid in such a position ; and that, con-
sistently with the preservation of this form, the
motion, which we want, must be effectuated by
some muscular mechanism disposed further back
in the jaw. The mechanism adopted is as
follows. A certain muscle called the diagastric,
rises on the side of the neck, somewhat behind
the insertion of the lower jaw, and comes down,
being converted in its progress into a round
tendon. Now, it is manifest that the tendon,
whilst it pursues a direction descending towards
the jaw, must, by its contraction, pull the jaw
up, instead of down. What then was to be done?
This, we find, is done. The descending tendon,
when it is got low enough, is passed through a
loop, or ring, or pulley, in the os hyoides, and
then made to ascend ; and, having thus changed
its line of direction, is inserted into the inner
part of the chin : by which device, viz. the turn
at the loop, the action of the muscle (which in
all muscles is contraction) that before would

154

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

have pulled the jaw up, now as necessarily
draws it down.

II. What contrivance can be more mechanical
than the following, viz. a slit in one tendon
to let another tendon pass through it ? This
structure is found in the tendons which move
the toes and fingers. The long tendon, as it is
called, in the foot which bends the first joint of
the toe, passes ihrotigh the short tendon which
bends the second joint ; which course allows to
the sinew more liberty, and a more commodious
action than it would otherwise have been capable
of exerting. There is nothing, I believe, in a
silk or cotton mill, in the belts, or straps, or
ropes, by which motion is communicated from
one part of the machine to another, that is
more artificial, or more evidently so, than this
perforation,

III. The next circumstance which I shall
mention, under this head of muscular arrange-
ment, is so decisive a mark of intention, that it
always appeared to me to supersede, in some
measure, the necessity of seeking for any other
observation upon the subject : and that cir-
cumstance is, the tendons which pass from the
leg to the foot, being bound down by a ligament
at the ancle. The foot is placed at a considerable
angle with the leg. It is manifest, therefore,.

OF THE MUSCLES. J55

that flexible strings passing along the interior
of the angle^ if left to themselves^ wonld^ when
stretched^ start from it. The obvious preventive
is to tie them down. And this is done in fact.
Across the instep^ or rather just above it^ the
anatomist finds a strong ligament^ tinder which
the tendons pass to the foot. The effect of the
ligament^ as a bandage, can be made evident to
the senses : for if it be cut, the tendons start up.
The simplicity, yet the clearness of this con-
trivance, its exact resemblance to established
resources of art, place it amongst the most in-
dubitable manifestations of design with which
we are acquainted.

I have sometimes wondered, why we are not
struck with mechanism in animal bodies, as
readily and as strongly as we are struck with
it, at first sight, in a watch or a mill. One
reason of the difference may be, that animal
bodies are, in a great measure, made up of soft,
flabby substances, such as muscles and mem-
branes ; whereas we have been accustomed to
trace mechanism in sharp lines, in the con-
figuration of hard materials, in the moulding,
chiseling, and filing into shapes, of such articles
as metals or wood. There is something there-
fore of habit in the case ; but it is suflBciently
evident, that there can be no proper reason for

156

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

any distinction of the sort. Mechanism may be
displayed in the one kind of substance, as well
as in the other.

Although the few instances we have selected,
even as they stand in our description, are
nothing short perhaps of logical proofs of
design, yet it must not be forgotten that, in
every part of anatomy, description is a poor
substitute for inspection. It is well said by an
able anatomist/ and said in reference to the
very part of the subject which we have been
treating of ; — Imperfecta hsec musculorum
descriptio, non minus arida est legentibus, quam
inspectantibus fuerit jucunda eorundem prsepa-
ratio. Elegantissima enim mechanices artificia,
creberrime in illis obvia, verbis nonnisi obscure
exprimuntur : carnium autem ductu, tendinum
colore, insertionum proportione, et trochlearum
distributione, oculis exposita, omnem superant
admirationem.'^^

^ Steno, in Bias. Anat. Animal, p. 2, o. 4.

OF THE VESSELS OF ANIMAL BODIES. 157

CHAPTER X.

OF THE VESSELS OF ANIMAL BODIES.

The circulation of the Hood through the bodies
of men and quadrupeds^ and the apparatus by
which it is carried on^ compose a system^ and
testify a contrivance^ as well understood as any
part of the animal frame. The lymphatic
system^ or the nervous system^ may be more
subtile and intricate ; nay^ it is possible that in
their structure they may be even more artificial
than the sanguiferous ; but we do not know so
much about them.

The utility of the circulation of the blood, I
assume as an acknowledged point. One grand
purpose is plainly answered by it ; the distribut-
ing to every part^ every extremity, every nook
and corner of the body, the nourishment which
is received into it by one aperture. What
enters at the mouth finds its way to the fingers^
ends. A more difficult mechanical problem could

158

NATURAL theology.

hardly I think he proposed, than to discover a
method of constantly repairing the waste, and of
supplying an accession of substance to every part
of a complicated machine, at the same time.

This system presents itself under two views :
first, the disposition of the blood-vessels, i. e. the
aying of the pipes; and, secondly, the construc-
tion of the engine at the centre, viz. the heart,
for driving the blood through them.

I. The disposition of the blood-vessels, as far
as regards the supply of the body, is like that
of the water-pipes in a city, viz. large and main
trunks branching olT by smaller pipes (and these
again by still narrower tubes) in every direction,
and towards every part in which the fluid,
which they convey, can be wanted. So far the
water-pipes, which serve a town, may represent
the vessels which carry the blood from the
heart. But there is another thing necessary to
the blood, which is not wanted for the water ;
and that is, the carrying of it back again to its
source. For this office, a reversed system of
vessels is prepared, which, uniting at their
extremities with the extremities of the first sys-
tem, collects the divided and subdivided stream-
lets, first, by capillary ramifications into larger
branches ; secondly, by these branches into
trunks; and thus returns the blood (almost

OF THE VESSELS OF ANIMAL BODIES. 159

exactly inverting the order in which it went out)
to the fountain whence its motion proceeded.
All which is evident mechanism.

PLAN OF CIRCULATION.

Plan of the circulation of the blood through the heart and lungs, and
the body generally.

The body, therefore, contains two systems of
blood-vessels, arteries and veins. Between the
constitutions of the systems there are also
certain differences, suited to the functions which

100

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

the systems have to execute. As it is requisite
that the blood should be propelled with more
force through the arteries or conveying vessels^
their structure is adapted to facilitate this result ;
they are much thicker than the veins^ and con-
tain a large quantity of elastic tissue, so that
after being distended by the hearths action they
contract of themselves, and tlms help the blood
onward in its course. But at a distance from
the heart, where the force of its contraction is
but little felt in the arteries, there is a pro-
portionate diminution in the elastic properties
of these vessels, in place of which muscularity
is substituted ; so that their elasticity and mus-
cularity exist in an inverse proportion in relation
to their distance from the heart. In other words,
where elasticity would be valueless, and where the
impulse produced by the contraction of the heart
itself cannot reach, there the small arteries are en-
dowed with a muscular coat, to help the passage
of the blood through them ; and as this muscular
coat is supplied by a special set of nerves, the
quantity of blood passing through these small
vessels is regulated by this muscular coat, ac-
cording to the requirements of the part supplied.

The position of the larger arteries, as they
proceed to their destination, is the best that
could be arranged for their security from

OF THE VESSELS OF ANIMAL BODIES. 161

injury ; as on the inside of the limbs, im-
bedded among muscles, protected by bone, &c.

The veins, or conduits by which the blood is
returned to the heart, are much thinner, and are
comparatively passive or inert in the transmis-
sion of this fluid ; but they possess a verv
interesting and remarkable contrivance, which
is purely mechanical, and essential to the due

VALVES OF VEINS.

performance of their function. As their deli-
cate structure is subjected to pressure by con-
traction of the muscles in their neighbourhood,
the blood would be driven in every direction,
backwards as well as forwards, were these vessels
not provided with valves at intervals, by which
the retrograde course of the blood is prevented.
Moreover, the veins run much more on the

M

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

surface^ immediately beneath the skin^ and
their communications with each other by cross
branches are more frequent than in the arteries.
IT. The next thing to be considered is the

THE HEART AND LUNGS.

a, the heart; 5, the great pulmonary artery carrying the blood into
the lungs; c cc, the lungs, spread out and pinned in their positions;
d d d df the pulmonary veins bringing the blood from the lungs to the
heart ; e, the trachea.

engine which works this machinery^ viz. the
heart. For our purpose it is unnecessary to
ascertain the principle upon which the heart
acts. Whether it be irritation excited by the

OF THE VESSELS OF ANIMAL BODIES. 163

contact of the bloody by the influx of the ner-
vous fluids or whatever else be the cause of its
motion, it is something which is capable of
producing, in a living, muscular fibre, alternate
contraction and relaxation. This is tlie power
we have to work with ; and the inquiry is, how
this power is applied in the instance before us.
There is provided, in the central part of the
body, a hollow muscle, composed of intricately-
arranged spiral fibres; in some animals, how-
ever, appearing to be semi-circular rather than
spiral. By the contraction of these fibres, the
sides of the muscular cavities are necessarily
squeezed together, so as to force out from them
any fluid which they may at that time contain ;
by the relaxation of the same fibres, the cavities?
are in their turn dilated, and, of course, prepared
to admit every fluid which may be poured into
them. Into these cavities are inserted the great
trunks, both of the arteries which carry out the
blood, and of the veins which bring it back.
This is a general account of the apparatus ; and
the simplest idea of its action is, that, by each
contraction a portion of blood is forced by a
syringe into the arteries : and, at each dilatation,
an equal portion is received from the veins.
This produces, at each pulse, a motion and
change in the mass of blood, to the amount of

164

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

what the cavity contains^ which in a full-grown
human hearty I understand^ is about an ounce^
or two table-spoons full. How quickly these
changes succeed one another^ and by this suc-
cession how sufficient they are to support a
stream or circulation throughout the system^
may be understood by the following com-
putation : —

It is calculated that the quantity of blood in
the body of an adult is from fifteen to twenty
pounds^ and that the circulation of the whole
mass is completed in less than two minutes.
The mind is filled with wonder when we con-
template this marvellous and unceasing activity ;
unceasing^ that is, in the sense that it is unre-
mitting ; yet is this rhythmic action broken by
the equally constant and necessary period of
repose : the auricles and ventricles contract in
rapid succession, and then there is an interval
of rest and preparation for the succeeding
stroke : just as, in breathing, we draw in the
air, and after its expulsion from the lungs there
is a pause of repose.

The account which we have here given, of
the injection of blood into the arteries by the
contraction, and of the corresponding reception
of it from the veins by the dilatation, of the
cavities of the heart, and of the circulation being

OF THE VESSELS OF ANIMAL BODIES. 165

thereby maintained through the blood-vessels
of the body^ is true^ but imperfect. The heart
performs this office^ but it is in conjunction
with another of equal curiosity and importance.
It is necessary that the blood should be suc-
cessively brought into contact^ or contiguity, or
proximity, with the air.

The reason of this necessity is that the blood,
in the performance of its office during its circu-
lation, is constantly accumulating an impurity
— the result, so to speak, of animal combustion
— which it is requisite to remove : and as this
impurity, carbon, cannot be thrown off in a solid
form, it requires to be combined with oxygen gas,
so as to form another gas called carbonic acid.
Now, the atmospheric air contains this needed
oxygen, combined with another gas, nitrogen,
in the proportion of one part of the former to
four of the latter. In breathing it is found that
the oxygen is the ingredient which is taken
into the blood, the nitrogen being present simply
to dilute it. Let us now observe the admirable
arrangement by which this essential exposure of
the blood to the air is accomplished.

By the bellows-like action of the chest,
already described, the atmospheric air is drawn
into the lungs, passing along the great air-tube
called the trachea, and thence through its rami-

166

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

fications^ which divide and subdivide like the
branches of a tree^ and finally terminate in
millions of little bags^ called air-cells. Suppose
the stalk of a bunch of grapes to be larger, and
perforated so as to form a tube branching off
to every grape^ and the skins of the grapes
to be empty, this would serve as a coarse
illustration of what is meant; and each time
air is drawn into this tube, the grape-skins
would be distended. Next, respecting the mode
in which the blood gets to these air-cells. The
heart, which is devoted to the circulation of the
blood through the hody^ has its counterpart in a
separate heart which is devoted to the circula-
tion through the lungs ; but both hearts are
bound up together so as to form but one mass
in the higher animals; yet the two sides are
distinct. The impure blood, charged with
carbonic acid gas, is received by the right
auricle, and conveyed from it into the right
ventricle, whence it is propelled through a
large artery, which divides and distributes it
to the lungs. These arteries divide and sub-
divide, in company with the divisions of the air-
tubes, until finally they terminate in numberless
hair-like tubes called capillaries^ on the surface
of the air-cells, the delicate texture of which
admits of the free interchange of gases, the

OF THE VESSELS OF ANIMAL BODIES. 167

carbonic acid being given off^ and oxygen im-
bibed.

Thus^ it will be understood that^ for the com-
plete circulation of the bloody four cavities in
the heart are necessary; and four are accord-
ingly provided: two, called ventricles, which
send out the blood, viz. one into the lungs, in
the first instance; the other into the mass of the
body, after it has returned from the lungs : two
others also, called auricles, which receive the
blood from the veins ; viz. one, as it comes
immediately from the body ; the other, as
the same blood comes a second time after
its circulation through the lungs. So that
there are two receiving cavities, and two
forcing cavities. The structure of the heart
has reference to the lungs ; for without the
lungs one of each would have been suffi-
cient. The translation of the blood in the heart
itself is after this manner. The receiving
cavities respectively communicate with the
forcing cavities, and, by their contraction,
unload the received blood into them. The
forcing cavities, when it is their turn to con-
tract, compel the same blood into the mouths
of the arteries.

The account here given will not convey to a
reader, ignorant of anatomy, anything like an

168

NATUEAL THEOLOGY.

accurate notion of the form^ action^ or use of
the parts (nor can any short and popular ac-
count do this) ; but it is abundantly sufficient
to testify contrivance ; and although imperfect,
being true as far as it goes, may be relied upon
for the only purpose for which we offer it, the
purpose of this conclusion.

^^The wisdom of the Creator,^^ saith Ham-
burgher, ‘^is in nothing seen more gloriously
than in the heart.'^^ And how well doth it
execute its office ! An anatomist, who under-
stood the structure of the heart, might say
beforehand that it would play; but he would
expect, I think, from the complexity of its
mechanism, and the delicacy of many of its
parts, that it should always be liable to derange-
ment, or that it would soon work itself out.
Yet shall this wonderful machine go, night and
day, for eighty years together, at the rate of a
hundred thousand strokes every twenty-four
hours, having, at every stroke, a great resistance
to overcome ; and shall continue this action
for this length of time, without disorder and
without weariness !

But further ; from the account which has
been given of the mechanism of the heart, it is
evident that it must require the interposition
of valves ; that the success indeed of its action

OF THE VESSELS OF ANIMAL BODIES. 169

must depend upon these; for when any one ot
its cavities contracts^ the necessary tendency of
the force will he to drive the enclosed blood,
not only into the mouth of the artery where it
ought to go, but also back again into the
mouth of the vein from which it flowed. In
like manner, when by the relaxation of the
fibres the same cavity is dilated, the blood would
not only run into it from the vein, which was
the course intended, but back from the artery,
through which it ought to be moving forward.
The way of preventing a reflux of the fluid, in
both these cases, is to fix valves, which, like
flood-gates, may open a way to the stream in
one direction, and shut up the passage against
it in another. The heart, constituted as it is,
can no more work without valves than a pump
can. When the piston descends in a pump, if
it were not for the stoppage by the valve
beneath, the motion would only thrust down
the water which it had before drawn up. A
similar consequence would frustrate the action
of the heart. Valves, therefore, properly dis-
posed, i.e. properly with respect to the course of
the blood which it is necessary to promote, are
essential to the contrivance. And valves so
disposed are accordingly provided, A valve is
placed in the communication between each

170

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

auricle and its ventricle^ lest when the ventricle
contracts^ part of the blood should get back
again into the auricle^ instead of the whole
enterings as it ought to do^ the mouth of the
artery. Valves are also fixed at the mouth of
each of the great arteries which take the blood
from the heart; leaving the passage free^ so
long as the blood holds its proper course for-
ward ; closing it^ whenever the bloody in conse-
quence of the relaxation of the ventricle, would
attempt to flow back. There is some variety
in the construction of these valves, though all
the valves . of the body act nearly upon the
same principle, and are destined to the same
use. In general, they consist of a thin mem-
brane, lying close to the side of the vessel, and
consequently allowing an open passage whilst
the stream runs one way, but thrust out from
the side by the fluid getting behind it, and
opposing the passage of the blood, when it
would flow the other way. Where more than
one membrane is employed, the different mem-
branes only compose one valve. Their joint
action fulfils the office of a valve : for instance,
over the entrance of the right auricle of the
heart into the right ventricle, three of these
membranes are fixed, of a triangular figure, the
bases of the triangles fastened to the flesh ; the

OF THE VESSELS OF ANIMAL BODIES. 171

sides and summits loose; but^ though loose^
connected by threads of a determinate lengthy
with certain small fleshy prominences adjoining.
The effect of this construction is that, when
the ventricle contracts, the blood endeavouring
to escape in all directions, and amongst other
directions pressing upwards, gets between these
membranes and the sides of the passage ; and
thereby forces them up into such a position as
that, together, they constitute, when raised, a
hollow cone (the strings, before spoken of, hin-
dering them from proceeding or separating
further) ; which cone, entirely occupying the
passage, prevents the return of the blood into
the auricle. A shorter account of the matter
may be this : — So long as the blood proceeds in
its proper course, the membranes which compose
the valve are pressed close to the side of the
vessel, and occasion no impediment to the circu-
lation : when the blood would regurgitate, they
are raised from the side of the vessel, and,
meeting in the middle of its cavity, shut up
the channel. Can any one doubt of contrivance
here ; or is it possible to shut our eyes against
the proof of it ?

This valve, also, is not more curious in its
structure, than it is important in its oJflice.
Upon the play of the valve, even upon the pro-

17a

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

portioned length of the strings or fibres which
check the ascent of the membranes^ depends, as
it should seem^ nothing less than the life itself
of the animal. We may here likewise repeat,
what we before observed concerning some of the
ligaments of the body, that they could not be
formed by any action of the parts themselves.
There are cases in which, although good uses
appear to arise from the shape or configuration
of a part, yet that shape or configuration itself
may seem to be modified by the action of the
part, or by the action or pressure of adjoining
parts. But valves could not be so formed.
Action and pressure are all against them. The
blood, in its proper course, has no tendency to
produce such things ; and, in its improper or
reflected current, has a tendency to prevent
their production. Whilst we see, therefore, the
use and necessity of this machinery, we can
look to no other account of its origin or forma-
tion than the intending mind of a Creator.
Nor can we without admiration reflect, that
such thin membranes, such weak and tender
instruments, as these valves are, should be able
to hold out for seventy or eighty years.

Here also we cannot consider but with
gratitude, how happy it is that our vital motions
are involuntary. We should have enough to do.

OF THE VESSELS OF ANIMAL BODIES. 173

if we had to keep our hearts beating and our
stomachs at work. Did these things depend_, we
will not say upon our effort^ but upon our
biddings our care^ or our attention^ they would
leave us leisure for nothing else. We must have
been continually upon the watch^ and continually
in fear ; nor would this constitution have
allowed of sleep.

It might perhaps be expected^ that an organ
so precious, of such central and primary impor-
tance as the heart is, should be defended by
a case. The fact is, that a membranous purse
or bag, made of strong, tough materials, is pro-
vided for it ; holding the heart within its cavity ,
sitting easily about it ; guarding its substance,
without confining its motion ; and lubricated by
a secretion just sufficient to keep the surface of
the heart in a state of suppleness and moisture.
How should such a loose covering be generated
by the action of the heart ? Does not the
enclosing of it in such a sack show the care that
has been taken of its preservation ?

The chief use of the circulation of the blood
(amongst other uses) is to distribute nourishment
to the different parts of the body. How minute
and multiplied the ramifications of the blood-
vessels, for that purpose, are ; and how thickly
spread, over at least the superficies of the body.

174

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

is proved by the single observation, that we
cannot prick the point of a pin into the flesh,,
without drawing blood, i. e. without finding a
blood-vessel. Nor, internally, is their diffusion
less universal. Blood-vessels run along the
surface of membranes, pervade the substance
of muscles, penetrate the bones. Even into
every tooth we trace, through a small hole in
the root, an arteiy to feed the bone, as well as a
vein to bring back the spare blood from it ; both
which, with the addition of an accompanying
nerve, form a thread only a little thicker than a
horse-hair.

‘ Wherefore, when the nourishment, taken in at
the mouth, has once reached and mixed itself
with the blood, every part of the body is in the
way of being supplied with it. And this intro-
duces another grand topic, namely, the manner
in which the aliment gets into the blood;
which is a subject distinct from the preceding,
and brings us to the consideration of another
entire system of vessels.

II. For this necessary part of the animal
economy an apparatus is provided, in a great
measure capable of being, what anatomists call,
demonstrated, that is, shown in the dead body ;
— and a line or course of conveyance, which we
•r:>in pursue by our examinations.

OF THE VESSELS OF ANIMAL BODIES. 175

Firsts the food descends by a wide passage
into the intestines^ undergoing two great pre-
parations on its way ; one^ in the mouth by
mastication and moisture^ — (can it be doubted
with what design the teeth were placed in the
road to the stomachy or that there was choice in
fixing them in this situation?) the other^ by
digestion in the stomach itself. Of this last
surprising dissolution I say nothing ; because it
is chemistry^ and I am endeavouring to display
mechanism. The figure and position of the
stomach (I speak all along with a reference to
the human organ) are calculated for detaining
the food long enough for the action of its
digestive juice. It has the shape of the pouch
of a bagpipe ; lies across the body ; and the
chemical digestion of the food is aided by a
gentle to and fro undulatory movement^ produced
by the contraction successively of different parts
of the muscular coat of the stomach. When
the food is sufficiently dissolved^ the muscular
ring of the pylorus^ which guards the entrance
into the bowel^ is relaxed, and the contents of
the stomach are allowed to enter the duodenum.

For the same reason that I omitted, for the
present, offering any observation upon the
digestive fluid, I shall say nothing concerning
the bile or the pancreatic juice, further than to

176

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

observe upon the mechanism^ viz. that from the
glands in which these secretions are elaborated,
pipes are laid into the first of the intestines,
through which pipes the product of each gland
flows into that bowel, and is there mixed with
the aliment, as soon almost as it passes the
stomach ; adding also, as a remark, how
grievously this same bile offends the stomach
itself, if it happen to intrude into it.

Secondly, We have now the aliment in the
intestines converted into pulpf and, though
lately consisting of ten different viands, reduced
to nearly an uniform substance, and to a state
fitted for yielding its essence, which is called
chyle. For the straining off this fluid from the
digested aliment in the course of its long pro-
gress through the body, myriads of capillary
tubes, i. e. pipes as small as hairs, open their
orifices into the cavity of every part of the
intestines. These tubes, which are so fine and
slender as not to be visible unless when distended
with chyle, soon unite into larger branches. The
pipes, formed by this union, pass through glands,
carrying the chyle from all parts into a common
reservoir or receptacle. This receptacle is little
more than a dilatation of the main duct, which
itself scarcely exceeds a crow-quill in size : it
climbs un the back part of the chest, and after-

OF THE VESSELS OF ANIMAL BODIES. 177

wards creeps along the gullet till it reaches the
neck. Here it meets the river; here it dis-
charges itself into a large vein^ which soon
conveys the chyle^ now flowing along with the
old bloody to the heart. This whole route can
be exhibited to the eye ; nothing is left to be
supplied by imagination or conjecture. Now,
beside the subserviency of this structure, eollec-
tively considered, to a manifest and necessary
purpose, we may remark two or three separate
particulars in it, which show, not only the con-
trivance, but the perfection of it. We may
remark, first, the length of the intestines, which,
in the human subject, is nearly six times that
of the body. Simply for a passage, these volu-
minous bowels seem in no wise necessary; but,
in order to allow time and space for the successive
extraction of the chyle from the digested aliment,
namely, that the chyle, which escapes the lacteals
of one part of the intestine, may be taken up by
those of some other part, the length of the canal
is of evident use and conduciveness. Secondly,
we must also remark their peristaltic motion ;
which is made up of contractions, following one
another like waves upon the surface of a fluid,
and not unlike what we observe in the body of
an earth-worm crawling along the ground ; and
which is effected by the joint action of longi-

178

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

tudinal and of spiral^ or rather perhaps of a great
number of separate^ semicircular fibres. This
curious action pushes forward the grosser part
of the aliment^ at the same time that the more
subtile parts, which we call chyle, are absorbed
by the narrow orifices of the lacteal vessels.
Thirdly, it was necessary that these tubes, which
we denominate lacteals, or their mouths at least,
should be made as narrow as possible, in order
to deny admission into the blood to any particle,
which is of size enough to make a lodgment
afterwards in the small arteries, and thereby to
obstruct the circulation : And it was also
necessary that this extreme tenuity should be
compensated by multitude ; for, a large quantity
of chyle is, by some means or other, to be passed
through them. Accordingly we find the num-
ber of the lacteals exceeding all powers of com-
putation ; and their pipes so fine and slender, as
not to be visible, unless filled, to the naked eye ;
and their orifices, which open into the intestines,
are of extreme minuteness. Fourthly, the main
pipe, which carries the chyle from the reservoir
to the blood, viz. the thoracic duct, being fixed
in an almost upright position, and wanting that
advantage of propulsion which the arteries
possess, is furnished with a succession of valves
to check the ascending fluid, when once it has

OF THE DIGESTIVE ORGANS.

179

passed them^ from falling back. These valves
look upward^ so as to leave the ascent free^ but
to prevent the return of the chyle^ if^ for want
of sufficient force to push it on^ its v eight should
at any time cause it to descend. Fifthlj-^ the
chyle enters the blood in an odd place^ but
perhaps the most commodious place possible^ viz.
at a large vein in the neck^ so situated with
respect to the circulation^ as speedily to bring
the mixture to the heart. And this seems to be
a circumstance of great moment ; for had the
chyle entered the blood at an artery^ or at a
distant vein^ the fluids composed of the old and
the new materials^ must have performed a con-
siderable part of the circulation^ before its
admixture with the bloody and transmission
through the lungs. Who could have dreamt
of a communication between the cavity of the
intestines and the left great vein of the nech ?
Who could have suspected that this communica-
tion should be the medium through which all
nourishment is derived to the body ? or this the
place^ where^ by a side-inlet^ the important
junction is formed between the blood and the
material which feeds it !

We postponed the consideration of digestion^
lest it should interrupt us in tracing the course
of the food to the blood ; but, in treating of
N 2

180

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

the alimentary system^ so principal a part of the
process cannot be omitted.

1. The gastric juice is not a simple diluent,
but a real solvent. A quarter of an ounce
of beef had scarcely touched the stomach of a
crow, when the solution began.

2. It has not the nature of saliva ; it has not
the nature of bile ; but is distinct from both.
By experiments it appears, that neither of these
secretions acts upon alimentary substances, in
the same manner as the gastric juice acts, but
each assists in the process of solution.

3. Digestion is not piitref action ; for, the
digesting fluid resists putrefaction most per-
tinaciously; nay, not only checks its further
progress, but restores putrid substances.

4. No fermentation occurs in healthy di-
gestion, but a true solution of the food.

In a word, animal digestion carries about it
the marks of being a power and a process com-
pletely sui generis. And the most wonderful
thing about it is its appropriation ; its sub-
serviency to the particular economy of each
animal. The gastric juice of an owl, falcon, or
kite, will not touch grain ; no, not even to flnish
the macerated and half-digested pulse which is
left in the crops of the sparrows that the bird
devours. In poultry, the trituration of the

OF THE DIGESTIVE ORGANS.

181

gizzard^ and the gastric juice, conspire in the
work of digestion. The gastric juice will not
dissolve the grain whilst it is whole. Entire
grains of barley, enclosed in tubes or spherules,
are not aflPected by it. But if the same grain
be by any means broken or ground, the gastric
juice immediately lays hold of it. Here then
is wanted, and here we find, a combination
of mechanism and chemistry. For the pre-
paratory grinding, the gizzard lends its mill.
And, as all mill-work should be strong, its
structure is so, beyond that of any other muscle
belonging to the animal. The internal coat
also, or lining of the gizzard, is, for the
same purpose, hard and cartilaginous. But,
forasmuch as this is not the sort of animal
substance suited for the reception of glands, or
for secretion, the gastric juice, in this family^
is not supplied as in membranous stomachs, by
the stomach itself, but by the gullet, in which
the feeding glands are placed, and from which
it trickles down into the stomach.

In sheep, the gastric fluid has no effect in
digesting plants,, unless they have been previously
masticated. It only produces a slight mace-
ration ; nearly such as common water would
produce, in a degree of heat somewhat exceeding
the medium temperature of the atmosphere.

182

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

But provided that the plant has been reduced
to pieces by chewing, and mixed freelj^ with
the saliva, the gastric juice then proceels with
it, first by softening its substance ; next, by
destroying its natural consistency ; and, lastly,
by dissolving it so completely, as not even to
spare the toughest and most stringy parts, such
as the nerves of the leaves.

It has been shown that the gastric juice of the
sheep and the ox speedily dissolved vegetables,
but made no impression upon beef, mutton, and
other animal bodies. John Hunter discovered
a property of this fluid, of a most curious kind ;
viz. that, in the stomachs of animals which
feed upon flesh, irresistibly as this fluid acts
upon animal substances, it is only upon the
(lead substance that it operates at all. The
living fibre suffers no injury from lying in
contact with it. The coats of the human
stomach, in a healthy state, are insensible to
its presence : yet, in cases of sudden death
(wherein the gastric juice, not having been
weakened by disease, retains its activity), it has
been known to eat a hole through the bowel
which contains it. How nice is this dis
crimination of action, yet how necessary !

But to return to our hydraulics.

III. The gall-bladder is a very remarkable

OF THE DIGESTIVE ORGANS.

183

contrivance. It is the reservoir of a canal. It
does not form the channel itself, i. e. the direct
communication between the liver and the in-
testine, hut communicates with the former by
an indirect channel, through which the bile is
poured to be stored for future use. Thus, one
duct proceeds from the liver to the intestine,
and is joined, in its course thither, by another
duct, the two uniting at an acute angle to form
one common duct. Thus, during digestion, bile
finds its way directly from the liver into the
duodenum, and the current is joined, as required,
by that from the gall-bladder. But when not
required for digestion, the bile flows back into
the gall-bladder, where it is stored and improved
for future use.

The gall-bladder is seated against the duo-
denum, and thereby liable to have its fluid
pressed out, by the passage of the aliment
through that cavity ; which likewise will have
the effect of causing the bile to be received into
the intestine, at a right time, and in a due
proportion.

There may be other purposes answered by
this contrivance ; and it is probable that there
are. The contents of the gall-bladder are not
exactly of the same kind as what passes from
the liver through the direct passage, but the

184

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

bile is rendered thicker^ by the absorption of
some of its watery part.

The entrance of the gall-duct into the duode-
num furnishes another observation. Whenever
either smaller tubes are nserted into larger
tubes^ or tubes into vessels and cavities^ such
receiving-tubes, vessels or cavities being subject
to muscular constriction, we always find a con-
trivance to prevent regurgitation. In some
cases, valves are used ; in other cases, amongst
which is that now before us, a different expe-
dient is resorted to ; which may be thus
described. The gall-duct enters the duodenum
obliquely : after it has pierced the first coat, it
runs near two fingers’ breadth between the coats,
before it opens into the cavity of the intestine.
The same contrivance is used in another part,
where there is exactly the same occasion for it,
viz. in the insertion of the ureters in the blad-
der. These enter the bladder near its neck,
running obliquely for the space of an inch
between its coats. It is, in both cases, suffici-
ently evident that this structure has a necessary
mechanical tendency to resist regurgitation ; for,
whatever force acts in such a direction as to
urge the fluid back into the orifices of the tubes,
must, at the same time, stretch the coats of the
vessels, and thereby compress that part of the

OF THE LAEYNX AND WIND-PIPE. 185

tube which is included between them : and this
most effectively when the bladder is distended.

IV. Amongst the vessels of the human body,
the pipe which conveys the saliva from the place
where it is made to the place where it is wanted,
deserves to be reckoned amongst the most in-
telligible pieces of mechanism with which we
are acquainted. The saliva, we all know, is
used in the mouth ; but much of it is produced
on the outside of the cheek, by the parotid
gland, which lies between the ear and the angle
of the lower jaw. In order to carry the secreted
juice to its destination, there is, laid from the
gland on the outside, a pipe about the thickness
of a wheat straw, and about three fingers^
breadth in length ; which, after riding over the
masseter muscle, bores for itself a hole through
the very middle of the cheek ; enters obliquely,
i. e. in a valvular form, by that hole, which is a
complete perforation of the buccinator muscle,
into the mouth ; and there discharges its fluid
very copiously.

V. Another exquisite structure, differing in-
deed from the four preceding instances in that
it does not relate to the conveyance of fluids,
but still belonging, like these, to the class of
pipes or conduits of the body, is seen in the
larynx. We all know that there go down the

186

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

throat two pipes, one leading to the stomach,
the other to the lungs ; the one being the pas-
sage for the food, the other for the breath and
voice : we know also that both these passages
open into the bottom of the mouth ; the gullet,
necessarily, for the conveyance of food ; and the
wind-pipe for speech and the modulation of
sound, not much less so: therefore the difficulty
was, the passages being so contiguous, to pre-
vent the food, especially the liquids which we
swallow into the stomach, from entering the
wind-pipe, i. e. the road to the lungs ; the con-
sequence of which error, when it does happen,
is perceived by the convulsive throes that are
instantly produced. This business, which is
very nice, is managed in this manner. The
gullet (the passage for food) opens into the
mouth like the cone or upper part of a funnel, the
capacity of which forms indeed the bottom of the
mouth. In front of this funnel enters the wind-
pipe, by a chink or slit, with a lid or flap, like a
little trap door, accurately fitted to the orifice.
The solids or liquids which we swallow pass over
this lid or flap, as they descend by the funnel
-into the gullet. Both the weight of the food,
and the action of the tongue and muscles con-
cerned in swallowing, contribute to keep the lid
close down upon the aperture, whilst anything"

OF THE LAEYNX AND WIND- PIPE. 187

is passing; and this is aided by the elevation of
the larynx : but when the aet of swallowing is
completed^ and the tongue is brought forward in
the mouthy the air-tube is again opened, and a
free inlet and outlet for the respiration of air by
the lungs is provided. Such is its structure : And
we may here remark the almost complete success
of the expedient^, viz. how seldom it fails of its
purpose compared with the number of instances
in which it fulfils it. Reflect how frequently
we swallow_, how constantly we breathe. In a
city-feast^ for . example^ what deglutition, what
anhelation ! yet does this little cartilage, the
epiglottis, so effectually interpose its office, so
securely guard the entrance of the wind-pipe,
that whilst morsel after morsel, draught after
draught, are coursing one another over it, an
accident of a crumb or a drop slipping into this
passage (which nevertheless must be opened for
the breath every second of time) excites in the
whole company, not only alarm by its danger,
but surprise by its novelty. Not two guests
are choked in a century.

Not only is the larynx curious, but the whole
wind-pipe possesses a structure adapted to its
peculiar office. It is made up (as any one may
perceive by putting his fingers to his throat) of
stout cartilaginous rings, placed at small and

188

NATURAL THEOLOGl:.

equal distances from one another. Now, this is
not the case with any other of the numerous
conduits of the body. The use of these cartilages
is to -keep the passage for the air constantly open,
which they do mechanically. A pipe with soft
membranous coats, liable to collapse and close
when empty, would not have answered here;
although this is the general vascular structure,
and a structure which serves very well for those
tubes which are kept in a state of perpetual
distension by the fluid they enclose, or which
afford a passage to solid and protruding sub-
stances.

Nevertheless (which is another particularity
well worthy of notice), these rings are not com-
plete, that is, are not cartilaginous and stiff all
round ; but their hinder part, which is contigu-
ous to the gullet, is membranous and soft,
easily yielding to the distensions of that organ
occasioned by the descent of solid food. The
same rings are connected by membrane, the
better to close upon one another, whin the
trachea is compressed or shortened.

The constitution of the larynx may suggest
likewise another reflection. The membrane
which lines its inside is, especially at its orifice,
perhaps, the most sensible, irritable membrane
of the body. It rejects the touch of a crumb of

OF THE LARYNX AND WIND-PIPE. 189

bread, or a drop of water, with a spasm which
convulses the whole frame ; yet, left to itself,
and its proper office, the intromission of air
alone, nothing can be so quiet. It does not
even make itself felt ; a man does not know
that he has a trachea. This capacity of per-
ceiving with such acuteness, this impatience of
offence, yet perfect rest and ease when let alone,
are properties, one would have thought, not likely
to reside in the same subject. It is to the junction,
however, of these almost inconsistent qualities,
in this, as well as in some other delicate parts of
the body, that we owe our safety and our
comfort ; — our safety to their sensibility, our
comfort to their repose.

The larynx, or rather the whole wind-pipe
fcaken together (for the larynx is only the upper
part of the wind-pipe), besides its other uses, is
also a musical instrument, that is to say, it is
mechanism expressly adapted to the modulation
of sound ; for it has been found upon trial that,
by relaxing or tightening the tendinous bands
at the extremity of the wind-pipe, and blowing
in at the other end, all the cries and notes
might be produced of which the living animal
was capable. It can be sounded, just as a pipe
or flute is sounded.

In singing birds the muscular apparatus at

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NATURAL THEOLOGY.

the lower part of the wind-pipe is very complex,
for the production of various notes and the
modulation of sound.

The use of the lungs in the system has been
noticed elsewhere ; another use, though, in some
sense, external to the system, is the formation,
in conjunction with the larynx, of voice and
speech. The lungs are, to animal utterance,
what the bellows are to the organ.

For the sake of method, we have considered
animal bodies under three divisions ; their
bones, their muscles, and their vessels : and we
have stated our observations upon these parts
separately. But this is to diminish the strength
of the argument. The wisdom of the Creator
is seen, not in their separate but their collective
action ; in their mutual subserviency and depen-
dence; in their contributing together to one
effect, and one use. It has been said, that a
man cannot lift his hand to his head, without
finding enough to convince him of the existence
of a God. And it is well said ; for he has only
to reflect, familiar as this action is, and simple
as it seems to be, how many things are requisite
for the performing of it : how many things
which we understand, to say nothing of many
more, probably, which we do not; viz. first a

OF THE MUSCULAR MOVEMENTS. 191

long^ hard^ strong cylinder^ in order to give to
the arm its firmness and tension ; but which_,
being rigid^ and in its substance inflexible^ can
only turn upon joints; secondly, therefore, joints
for this purpose, one at the shoulder to raise the
arm, another at the elbow to bend it ; these
joints continually fed with a soft mucilage to
make the parts slip easily upon one another, and
holden together by strong braces, to keep them
in their position : then, thirdly, strings and
wires, i. e. muscles and tendons, artificially
inserted for the purpose of drawing the bones in
the directions in which the joints allow them to
move. Hitherto we seem to understand the
mechanism pretty well ; and understanding this,
we possess enough for our conclusion : never-
theless, we have hitherto only a machine stand-
ing still; a dead organization, — an apparatus.
To put the system in a state of activity, to set
it at work, a further provision is necessary,
viz. a communication with the brain by means
of nerves. We know the existence of this com-
munication, because we can see the communicat-
ing threads, and can trace them to the brain ;
its necessity we also know, because if the thread
be cut, if the communication be intercepted,
the muscle becomes paralytic.

To what has been enumerated, as officiating

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NATURAL THEOLOGY.

in the single act of a man’s raising his hand to
his head^ must be added likewise^ all that is
necessary^ and all that contributes to the growth^
nourishment^ and sustentation of the limb^ the
repair of its waste^ the preservation of its health :
such as the circulation of the blood through
every part of it; its lymphatics^ exhalants^
absorbents ; its excretions and integuments.
All these share in the result; join in the effect :
and how all these, or any of them, come to-
gether without a designing, disposing intel-
ligence, it is impossible to conceive.

ANIMAL STRUCTURE REGARDED AS A MASS. 193

CHAPTER XI.

OP THE ANIMAL STRUCTURE REGARDED AS A MASS.

Contemplating an animal hody in its collective
capacity^ we cannot forget to notice what a
number of instruments are brought together,
and often within how small a compass. It is a
cluster of contrivances. In a canary bird, for
instance, and in the single ounce of matter
which composes his body (but which seems to be
all employed), we have instruments for eating,
for digesting, for nourishment, for breathing, for
generation, for running, for flying, for seeing,
for hearing, for smelling; each appropriate, —
each entirely different from all the rest.

The human, or indeed the animal frame, con-
sidered as a mass or assemblage, exhibits in its
composition three properties, which have long
struck my mind as indubitable evidences, not
only of design, but of a great deal of attention
and accuracy in prosecuting the design.

o

194

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

1. The first is^ the exact correspondency of
the two sides of the same animal; the right
hand answering to the left^ leg to leg^ eye to
eye, one side of the countenance to the other ;
and with a precision, to imitate which in any
tolerable degree forms one of the difficulties of
statuary, and requires, on the part of the artist,
a constant attention to this property of his work,
distinct from every other.

It is the most difficult thing that can be to
get a wig made even ; yet how seldom is the
face awry ! And what care is taken that it
should not be so, the anatomy of its bones de-
monstrates. The bones exclusively belonging
to the face are six pairs, and two single ones in
the centre, including the lower jaw. In building
an arch, could more be done in order to make
the curve tme^ i. e. the parts equi-distant from
the middle, alike in figure and position ?

The exact resemblance of the eyes^ considering
how compounded this organ is in its structure,
how various and how delicate are the shades
of colour with which its iris is tinged, how
differently, as to effect upon appearance, the eye
may be mounted in its socket, and how dif-
ferently in different heads eyes actually are set,
is a property of animal bodies much to be ad-
mired. Of ten thousand eyes, I do not know

ANIMAL STRUCTURE REGARDED AS A MASS. 195‘

that it would be possible to match one^ except
with its own fellow ; or to distribute them into
suitable pairs by any other selection than that
which obtains.

This regularity of the animal structure is
rendered more remarkable by the three fol-
lowing considerations : — Firsts the limbs^ sejpa-
rately taken^ have not this correlation of parts_,
but the contrary of it. A knife drawn down
the chine cuts the human body into two parts^
externally equal and alike ; you cannot draw a
straight line which will divide a hand^ a foot^
the leg^ the thigh^ the cheeky the eye^ the ear^
into two parts equal and alike. Those parts
which are placed upon the middle or partition
line of the body^ or which traverse that line^ as
the nose^ the tongue^ the lips^ may be so divided^
or^ more properly speakings are double organs ;
but other parts cannot. This shows that the
correspondency^ which we have been describing,
does not arise by any necessity in the nature of
the subject: for^ if necessary^ it would be uni-
versal; whereas it is observed only in the system
or assemblage : it is not true of the separate
parts; that is to say^ it is found where it
conduces to beauty or utility; it is not found
where it would subsist at the expense of both.
The two wings of a bird always correspond : the
o 2

196

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

two sides of a feather frequently do not. In
centipedes, millepedes, and that whole tribe of
insects, no two legs on the same side are alike :
yet there is the most exact parity between the
legs opposite to one another.

2. The next circumstance to be remarked is,
that whilst the cavities of the body are so con-
figurated, as externally to exhibit the most exact
correspondency of the opposite sides, the contents
of these cavities have no such correspondency.
A. line drawn down the middle of the breast
divides the thorax into two sides exactly similar;
yet these two sides enclose very different con-
tents. The heart points towards the left side ;
an extra lobe of the lungs is on the right;
balancing each other, neither in size nor shape.
The same thing holds of the abdomen. The
liver lies on the right side, without any similar
viscus opposed to it on the left. The spleen
indeed is situated over against the liver; but
agreeing with the liver neither in bulk nor
form. There is no equipollency between these.
The stomach iz a vessel, both irregular in its
shape, and oblique in its position. The foldings
and doublings of the intestines do not present
a parity of sides. Yet that symmetry, which
depends upon the correlation of the sides, is
externally preserved throughout the whole

ANIMAL STRUCTURE REGARDED AS A MASS. 197

trunk ; and is the more remarkable in the
lower parts of it^ as the integuments are soft ;
and the shape consequently is not as the
thorax is by its ribs, reduced by natural stays.
It is eyident, therefore, that the external pro-
portion does not arise from any equality in
the shape or pressure of the internal contents.
What is it indeed but a correction of in-
equalities? an adjustment, by mutual compen-
sation, of anomalous forms into a regular
congeries ? the effect, in a word, of artful, and,
if we might be permitted so to speak, of studied
collocation ?

8. Similar also to this is the third observation;
that an internal inequality in the feeding vessels
is so managed, as to produce no inequality in
parts which were intended to correspond. The
right arm answers accurately to the left, both in
size and shape; but the arterial branches, which
supply the two arms, do not go off from their
trunk in a pair, in the same manner, at the
same place, or at the same angle. Under which
want of similitude the two limbs, which are
nourished by them, perceive no difference of
supply, no effects of excess or deficiency,

II. Another perfection of the animal mass is
the 'package, I know nothing which is so sur-
prising. Examine the contents of the trunk of

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NATURAL THEOLOGY.

any large animal. Take notice how soft, how
tender, how intricate they are; how constantly in
action, how necessary to life ! Reflect upon the
danger of any injury to their substance, any
derangement of their position, any obstruction
to their office. Observe the heart pumping at
the centre, at the rate of eighty strokes in a
minute : one set of pipes carrying the stream
away from it, another set bringing, in its
uourse, the fluid back to it again ; the lungs
performing their elaborate office, viz. distending
and contracting their many thousand vesicles,
by a reciprocation which cannot cease for a
minute ; the stomach exercising its powerfu
chemistry; the bowels silently propelling the
changed aliment ; collecting from it, as it
proceeds, and transmitting to the blood, an inces-
sant supply of prepared and assimilated nourish-
ment; the blood pursuing its course; the liver,
the kidneys, the pancreas, the parotid, with many
other known and distinguishable glands, drawing
off from it, all the while, their proper secretions.
These several operations, together with others
more subtile but less capable of being investi-
gated, are going on within us, at one and the
same time. Think of this; and then observe
how the body itself, the case which holds this
machinery, is rolled, and jolted, and tossed

ANIMAL STRUCTURE REGAEDED AS A MASS. 199

about, the mechanism remaining unhurt, and
with very little molestation even of its nicest
motions. Observe a rope-dancer, a tumbler, or
a monkey; the sudden inversions and contortions
which the internal parts sustain by the postures
into which their bodies are thrown; or rather
observe the shocks which these parts, even in
ordinary subjects, sometimes receive from falls
and bruises, or by abrupt jerks and twists,
without sensible, or with soon-recovered damage.
Observe this, and then reflect how firmly
every part must be secured, how carefully
surrounded, how well tied down and packed
together.

This property of animal bodies has never, I
think, been considered under a distinct head, or
so fully as it deserves. I may be allowed,
therefore, in order to verify my observation
concerning it, to set forth a short anatomical
detail, though it oblige me to use more tech-
nical language than I should wish to introduce
into a work of this kind.

1. The heart (such care is taken of the centre
of life) is placed between two soft lobes of the
lungs, and is surrounded and protected by a
dense membranous bag, the pericardium, which
adheres to the diaphragm, and is smooth and
lubricated in its interior. The great blood-

200

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

vessels^ which issue from the hearty also assist
in sustaining it in its place.

The lungs are in like manner held in position
by the air-tubes passing into them^ and by the
great vessels passing into and out of them :
there is also a delicate membrane^ the pleura,
surrounding each lung, and reflected over the
interior of the chest walls, thus allowing of the
free gliding movement, which is so essential in
the alternate inflation and emptying of the
lungs in breathing. Beyond the connexions
mentioned, these organs lie quite loose and free
within the chest, to the walls of which they
are accurately fitted.

The liver, spleen, stomach, and other viscera
contained in the abdominal cavity, are all so
arranged and supported in their positions as to
secure them from injury, and from interfering
with each other in the performance of their
several functions. A delicate membrane, similar
to the pleura, and called the peritoneum, covers
and holds down all the viscera, and lines the
abdominal walls ; its smooth surface, always
kept moist by its own secretion, allows of the
necessary gliding movements of the stomach and
intestines over each other, and of other changes
in position depending on movements of the body
and on the acts of respiration.

ANIMAL STRUCTURE REGARDED AS A MASS. 201

2. The septa of the brain probably prevent
one part of that organ from pressing with too
great a weight upon another part. The pro-
cesses of the dura mater divide the cavity of the
skull^ like so many inner partition walls^ and
thereby, with the irregular floor of the skull
itself, confine each hemisphere and lobe of the
brain to the chamber which is assigned to it,
without its being liable to rest upon, or inter-
mix with the neighbouring parts. The great
art and caution of packing is to prevent one
thing hurting another. This, in the head, the
chest, and the abdomen of an animal body is,
amongst other methods, provided for by mem-
branous partitions and wrappings, which keep
the parts separate.

The above may serve as a short account of
the manner in which the principal viscera are
sustained in their places. But of the provisions
for this purpose, by far, in my opinion, the
most curious, and where also such a provision
was most wanted, is in the intestines. It is
pretty evident that a long narrow tube (in
man, about five times the length of the body)
laid from side to side in folds upon one another,
winding in oblique and circuitous directions,
composed also of a soft and yielding substance,
must, without some extraordinary precaution

202

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

for its safety, be continually displaced by the
various, sudden, and abrupt motions of the
body which contains it. I should expect that,
if not bruised or wounded by every fall, or leap,
or twist, it would be entangled, or be involved
with itself ; or, at the least, slipped and shaken
out of the order in which it is disposed, and
which order is necessary to be preserved for the
carrying on of the important functions which it
has to execute in the animal economy. Let us
see, therefore, how a danger so serious, and
yet so natural to the length, narrowness, and
tubular form of the part, is provided against.
The expedient is admirable ; and it is this. The
intestinal canal, throughout a great part of its
length, is knit to the edge of a broad membrane,
a part of the peritoneum, called the mesen-
tery. It forms the margin of this mesentery,
being fastened to it like the edging of
a ruffle : being four times as long as the
mesentery itself, it is what a sempstress would
call, puckered or gathered on to it. This is
the nature of the connexion of the gut with the
mesentery ; and being thus joined to, or rather
made a part of, the mesentery, it is folded and
wrapped up together with it. Now the me-
sentery, having a considerable dimension in
breadth, being in its substance, withal, of con-

ANIMAL STRUCTURE REGARDED AS A MASS. 203

siderable strength^ is capable of a close and
safe folding, in comparison of what the intes-
tinal tube would admit of, if it had remained
loose. The mesentery likewise not only keeps
the intestinal canal in its proper place and
position under all the turns and windings of
its course, but sustains the numberless small
vessels, the arteries, the veins, the nerves, and,
above all, the lacteals, which lead from or to
almost every point of its coats and cavity.

III. A third general property of animal forms
is heaiity, I do not mean relative beauty, or
that of one individual above another of the
same species, or of one species compared with
another species ; but I mean, generally, the
provision which is made in the body of almost
every animal, to adapt its appearance to the
perception of the animals with which it con-
verses. In our own species, for example, only
consider what the parts and materials are, of
which the fairest body is composed; and no
further observation will be necessary to show
how well these things are wrapped up, so as to
form a mass, which shall be capable of symmetry
in its proportion, and of beauty in its aspect ;
how the bones are covered, the bowels con-
cealed, the roughnesses of the muscle smoothed
and softened ; and how over the whole is drawn

204

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

an integument^ which converts the disgusting
materials of a dissecting-room into an object of
attraction to the sight, or one upon which it
rests, at least, with ease and satisfaction. Much
of this effect is to.be attributed to the inter-
vention of the cellular and adipose membrane,
which lies immediately under the skin; is a
kind of lining to it ; is moist, soft, elastic, and
compressible; everywhere filling up the inter-
stices of the muscles, and forming thereby
their roundness and flowing line, as well as the
evenness and polish of the whole surface.

All which seems to be a strong indication
of design, and of a design studiously directed
to this purpose. And it being once allowed,
that such a purpose existed with respect to any
of the productions of nature, we may refer, in a
measure, with a considerable degree of proba-
bility, other particulars to the same intention ;
such as the tints of flowers, the plumage of
birds, the furs of beasts, the bright scales of
fishes, the painted wings of butterflies and
beetles, the rich colours and spotted lustre of
many tribes of insects.

There are parts also of animals ornamental,
besides subserving other and more important
purposes. The irides of most animals are very
beautiful; and nature could in no part have

ANIMAL STRUCTURE REGARDED AS A MASS. 205

employed her pencil to so much advantage,
because no part presents itself so conspicuously
to the observer, or communicates so great an
effect to the whole aspect.

In plants, especially in the flowers of plants,
the principle of beauty holds a still more con-
siderable place in their composition ; is still
more confessed than in animals. For, although
we may believe that this profusion and bril-
liancy of colour, in all its rich variety, has an
useful purpose, we know that it is calculated to
please the eye by its beauty, and therefore we
may reasonably conclude that it was intended
also for display.

A ground, I know, of objection has been
taken against the whole topic of argument,
namely, that there is no such thing as beauty
at all ; in other words, that whatever is useful
and familiar, comes of course to be thought
beautiful; and that things appear to be so,
only by their alliance with these qualities. Our
idea of beauty is capable of being in so great a
degree modified by habit, by fashion, by the
experience of advantage or pleasure, and by
associations arising out of that experience, that
a question has been made, whether it be not
altogether generated by these causes, or would
have any proper existence without them. It

206

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

seems^ however^ a carrying* of the conclusion
too far^ to deny the existence of the principle,
viz. a native capacity of perceiving beauty, on
account of an influence, or of varieties proceed-
ing from that influence, to which it is subject ;
seeing that principles the most acknowledged
are liable to be affected in the same manner.
I should rather argue thus. The question re-
spects objects of sight. Now every other sense
hath its distinction of agreeable and disagree-
able. Some tastes offend the palate, others
gratify it. In brutes and insects, this dis-
tinction is stronger and more regular than in
man. Every horse, ox, sheep, swine, when at
liberty to choose, and when in a natural state,
that is, when not vitiated by habits forced upon
it, eats and rejects the same plants. Many
insects, which feed upon particular plants, will
rather die than change tneir appropriate leaf.
All this looks like a detenni nation in the sense
itself to particular tastes. In like manner,
smells affect the nose with sensations pleasur-
able or disgusting. Some sounds, or composi-
tions of sound, delight thj ear; others torture
•it. Habit can do much in all these cases (and
it is well for us that it can ; for it is this power
which reconciles us to many necessities): but
has the distinction, in the mean time, of agree-

ANIMAL STRUCTURE REGARDED AS A MASS. 207

able and disagreeable no foundation in the
sense itself? What is true of the other senses^
is most probably true of the eye (the analogy
is irresistible)^ viz. that there belongs to it an
original constitution^ fitted to receive pleasure
from some impressions^ and pain from others.
Yet these impressions on the senses depend
very much on mental assoeiations with them^
and are greatly influenced by education. In
many instances also^ especially in the senses
of smellj taste^ and touch,, the effects of im-
pressions from without are designed for pro-
tection from that which would be injurious^ if
not avoided as offensive.

I do not however know, that the argument
which alleges beauty as a final cause, rests
upon the concession to which I have referred.
We possess a sense of beauty, however we come
by it. It in fact exists. Things are not in-
different to this sense ; all objects do not suit
it ; many, which we see, are agreeable to it ;
many others disagreeable. It is certainly not
the effect of habit upon the particular object,
because the most agreeable objects are often the
most rare ; many, which are very common,
continue to be offensive. If they be made sup-
portable by habit, it is all which habit can do ;
they never become agreeable. If this sense.

ao8

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

therefore, be acquired, it is a result ; the produce
of numerous and complicated actions of external
objects upon the senses, and of the mind upon
its sensations. With this resulty there must be
a certain congruity to enable any particular
object to please; and that congruity, we con-
tend, is consulted in the aspect which is given
to animal and vegetable bodies.

IV. The skin and covering of animals is that
upon which their appearance chiefly depends,
and it is that part which, perhaps, in all animals
is most decorated, and most free from impu-
rities. But were beauty, or agreeableness of
aspect, entirely out of the question, there is
another purpose answered by this integument,
and by the collocation of the parts, of the body
beneath it, which is of still greater importance)
and that purpose is concealment. Were it pos-
sible to view through the skin the mechanism
of our bodies, the sight would frighten us out
of our wits. Durst we make a single move-
menV^ asks a lively French writer, or stir a
step from the place we were in, if we saw our
blood circulating, the tendons pulling, the lungs
blowing, the humours filtrating, and all the
incomprehensible assemblage of fibres, tubes,
pumps, valves, currents, pivots, which sustain an
existence at once so frail, and so presunaptuous

ANIMAL STRUCTURE REGARDED AS A MASS. 209

V. Of animal bodies^ considered as masses,
there is another property, more curious than it
is generally thought to be ; which is the faculty
of standing ; and it is more remarkable in two-
legged animals than in quadrupeds, and, most
of all, as being the tallest, and resting upon the
smallest base, in man. There is more, I think,
in the matter than we are aware of. The statue
of a man, placed loosely upon its pedestal, would
not be secure of standing half an hour. You
are obliged to fix its feet to the block by bolts
and solder ; or the first shake, the first gust of
wind, is sure to throw it down. Yet this statue
shall express all the mechanical proportions of a
living model. It is not therefore the mere
figure, or merely placing the centre of gravity
within the base, that is sufficient. Either the
law of gravitation is suspended in favour of
living substances, or something more is done for
them, in order to enable them to uphold their
posture. There is no reason whatever to doubt,
but that their parts descend by gravitation in
the same manner as those of dead matter. The
gift, therefore, appears to me to consist in a
faculty of poising the superincumbent weight of
the body upon and around a perpetually shifting
centre of gravity, by a set of obscure, indeed,
but of quick-balancing actions, so as to keep

210

NATUEAL THEOLOGY.

the line of direction^ which is a line drawn from
that centre to the ground^ within its prescribed
limits. Of these actions it may be observed,
first, that they in part constitute what we call
strength, i.e. muscular action. The dead body
drops down. The mere adjustment therefore of
weight and pressure, which may be the same
the moment after death as the moment before,
does not support the column. In cases also of
extreme weakness, the patient cannot stand
upright. Secondly, that these actions are only
in a small degree voluntary ; i.e. the exercise of
volition has become so habitual that we are not
conscious of it. A man is seldom conscious of
his voluntary powers in keeping himself upon
his legs. A child learning to walk is the
greatest posture-master in the world : but art,
if it may be so called, sinks into habit ; and he
is soon able to poise himself in a great variety
of attitudes, without being sensible either of
caution or effort. But still there must be an
aptitude of parts, upon which habit can thus
attach; a previous capacity of motions which
the animal is thus taught to exercise: and the
facility with which this exercise is acquired
forms one object of our admiration. What parts
are principally employed, or in what manner
oacb contributes its office, is* as hath already

animal structure regarded as a mass. ‘211

been confessed^ difficult to explain. Perhaps
the obscure motion of the bones of the feet may
have their share in this effect. They are put in
action by every slip or vacillation of the body
and seem to assist in restoring its balance.
Certain it is, that this circumstance in the
structure of the foot, viz. its being composed of
many small bones, applied to, and articulating
with one another, by diversely- shaped surfaces,
instead of being made of one piece, like the last
of a shoe, is very remarkable. I suppose also,
that it would be difficult to stand firmly upon
stilts or wooden legs, though their base exactly
imitated the figure and dimensions of the sole of
the foot. The alternation of the joints, the
knee-joint bending backward, the ancle and
hip-joints forward; the flexibility, in every
direction, of the spine ; appear* to be of great
moment in preserving the equilibrium of the
body. With respect to this last circumstance
it is observable, that the vertebrae are so
confined by the form of their joints and by
ligaments, as to allow no more slipping upon
one another, than what is just sufficient to admit
of slight bending, or to break the shock which
any violent motion may occasion to the body.
A certain degree also of action of the muscles
appears to be essential to an erect posture ; for
p 2

212

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

it is by the loss of this, that the dead or
paralytic body drops down. The whole is a
wonderful result of combined powers, and of
very complicated operations. Indeed, that stand-
ing is not so simple a business as we imagine it
to be, is evident from the strange gesticulations
of a drunken man, who has lost the government
of the centre of gravity.

We have said that this property is the most
worthy of observation in the human body : but
a hirdy resting upon its perch, or hopping upon
a spray, affords no mean specimen of the same
faculty. A chicken runs off as soon as it is
hatched from the egg ; yet a chicken, considered
geometrically, and with relation to its centre of
gravity, its line of direction, and its equilibrium,
is a very irregular solid. Is this gift, therefore,
or instruction ? May it not be said to be with
great attention, that nature hath balanced the
body upon its pivots ?

I observe also in the same lird^ a piece of
useful mechanism of this kind. In the trussing
of a fowl, upon bending the legs and thighs up
towards the body, the cook finds that the claws
close of their own accord. Now let it be remem-
bered, that this is the position of the limbs in
which the bird rests upon its perch. And in
this position it sleeps in safety ; for the claws

ANIMAL STUTOTURE REGARDED AS A MASS. 218

do their office in keeping hold of the support,
not by any exertion of voluntary power, which
sleep might suspend, but by the traction of the
tendons in consequence of the angular attitude
which the legs and thighs take by the bird
sitting down, and to which the mere weight of
the body gives the force that is necessary.

VI. Regarding the human body as a mass ;
regarding the general conformations which
obtain in it ; regarding also particular parts in
respect to those conformations ; we shall be led
to observe what I call interrupted analogies.’^
The following are examples of what I mean by
these terms ; and I do not know how such
critical deviations can, by any possible hypo-
thesis, be accounted for without design.

1. All the bones of the body are covered with
a periosteum, except the teeth, where it ceases,
and an enamel of ivory, which saws and files
will hardly touch, comes into its place. No one
can doubt of the use and propriety of this dif-
ference ; of the analogy being thus inter-
rupted ; of the rule, which belongs to the
conformation of the bones, stopping where it
does stop : for, had so exquisitely sensitive a
membrane as the periosteum invested the teeth,
as it invests every other bone of the body, their
action, necessary exposure, and irritation, would

214

NATUllAL THEOLOGY*

have subjected the animal to continual pain.
General as it is^ it was not the sort of integu-
ment which suited the teeth ; what they stood
in need of^ was a strongs hard^ insensible^ defen-
sive coat: and exactly such a covering is given
to them^ in the ivory enamel which adheres to
their surface.

The scarf-skin^ which clothes all the rest
of the body, gives way, at the extremities of the
toes and fingers, to nails, A man has only to
look at his hand, to observe with what nicety
and precision that covering, which extends over
every other part, is here superseded by a dif-
ferent substance, and a different texture. Now,
if either the rule had been necessary, or the
deviation from it accidental, this effect would
not be seen. When I speak of the rule being
necessary, I mean the formation of the skin
upon the surface being produced by a set of
causes constituted without design, and acting,
as all ignorant causes must act, by a general
operation. Were this the case, no account could
be given of the operation being suspended at
the fingers^ ends, or on the back part of the
fingers, and not on the fore part. On the
other hand, if the deviation were accidental,
an error, an anomalism; were it anything
else than settled by intention ; we should meet

ANIMAL STEUCTUiiE REGARDED AS A MASS. 215

with nails upon other parts of the body. They
would be scattered over the surface^ like warts^
or pimples.

3. All the great cavities of the body are
enclosed in part or almost entirely by mem-
branous walls^ except the shulL Why should
not the brain be content with the same
covering as that which serves for the other
principal organs of the body? I can see a
reason for this distinction in the final cause^
but in no other. The importance of the brain
to life (which experience proves to be imme-
diate)^ and the extreme tenderness of its sub-
stance^ make a solid case more necessary for it
than for any other part : and such a case the
hardness and arched form of the skull supply.
If an anatomist should say^ that this bony pro-
tection is not confined to the brain^ but is
extended along the course of the spine^ I answer^
that he adds strength to the argument. If he
remark^ that the chest also is fortified by bones>
I reply that I should have alleged this instance
myself^ if the ribs had not appeared subservient
to the purpose of motion as well as of defence.
What distinguishes the skull from every other
cavity is^ that the bony covering completely
surrounds its contents^, and is calculated,, not
for motion^ but solely for defence. Those

216

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

hollows^ likewise^ and inequalities^ which we
observe in the inside of the skull^ exactly fit
the corresponding inequalities of the brain,
and thus keep it steady, and guard it against
concussions.

COMPARATIVE ANATOMY.

217

CHAPTER XII.

COMPARATIVE ANATOMY.

Whknever we find a general plan pursued^ yet
with such variations in it as are, in each case,
required by the particular exigency of the sub-
ject to which it is applied, we possess, in such
plan and such adaptation, the strongest evidence
that can be afforded of intelligence and design ;
an evidence which most completely excludes
every other hypothesis. If the general plan
proceeded from any fixed necessity in the nature
of things, how could it accommodate itself to
the various wants and uses which it had to serve
under different circumstances and on different
occasions? Arhivrighfs mill was invented for
the spinning of cotton. We see it employed
for the spinning of wool, flax, and hemp, with
such modifications of the original principle, such
variety in the same plan, as the texture of those
different materials rendered necessary. Of the

218

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

machine's being put together with design if it
were possible to doubt, whilst we saw it only
under one mode, and in one form ; when
we came to observe it in its different applica-
tions, with such changes of structure, such
additions and supplements, as the special and
particular use in each case demanded, we
could not refuse any longer our assent to the
proposition, ^^that intelligence, properly and
strictly so called (including under that name
foresight, consideration, reference to utility)^
had been employed, as well in the primitive
plan, as in the several changes and accommoda-
tions which it is made to undergo.^^

Very much of this reasoning is applicable
to what has been called Comparative Anatomy.
In their general economy, in the outlines of the
plan, in the construction as well as offices of their
principal parts, there exists between all large
terrestrial animals a close resemblance. In all
life is sustained, and the body nourished, by
nearly the same apparatus. The heart, the
lungs, the stomach, the liver, the kidneys, aro
much alike in all. The same fluid (for no
important distinction of blood has been ob-
served) circulates through their vessels, and
nearly in the same order. The same cause,,
therefore, whatever that cause was, has been

COMPAEATIVE ANATOMY.

219

concerned in the origin, has governed the
production of these different animal forms.

When we pass on to smaller animals, or to
the inhabitants of a different element, the
resemblance becomes more distant and more
obscure ; but still the plan accompanies us.

And, what we can never enough commend,
and which it is our business at present to
exemplify, the plan is attended, through all its
varieties and deflections, by subserviences to
special occasions and utilities.

I. The covering of different animals (though
whether I am correct in classing this under
their anatomy, I do not know) is the flrst thiug
which presents itself to our observation ; and is
in truth, both for its variety, and its suitableness
to their several natures, as much to be admired
as any part of their structure. We have bristles,
hair, wool, furs, feathers, quills, prickles, scales -
yet in this diversity both of material and form,
we cannot change one animahs coat for another^
without evidently changing it for the worse :
taking care, however, to remark, that these
coverings are, in many cases, armour as well as
clothing; intended for protection as well as
warmth.

The human animal is the only one which is
naked, and the only one which can clothe

220

NATUKAL THEOLOGY.

itself. This is one of the properties which
renders him an animal of all climates^ and of
all seasons. He can adapt the warmth or
lightness of his covering to the temperature
of his habitation. Had he been born with a
fleece upon his back^ although he might have
been comforted by its warmth in high latitudes,
it would have oppressed him by its weight and
heat, as the species spread towards the equator.

What art, however, does for men, nature has,
in many instances, done for those animals
which are incapable of art. Their clothing, of
its own accord, changes with their necessities.
This is particularly the case with that large
tribe of quadrupeds which are covered with
f%iTS, Every dealer in hare-skins and rabbit-
skins knows how much the fur is thickened by
the approach of winter. It seems to be a part
of the same constitution and the same design,
that wool, in hot countries, degenerates, as it
is called, but in truth (most happily for the
animaFs ease) passes into hair; whilst, on the
contrary, that hair, on the dogs of the polar re-
gions, is turned into wool, or something very like
it. To which may be referred what naturalists
have remarked, that bears, wolves, foxes, hares,
which do not take the water, have the fur much
thicker on the back than the belly ; whereas on

COMPAEATIVB ANATOMY.

221

the beaver it is the thickest upon the belly ;
as are the feathers on water-fowl. We know the
final cause of all this ; and we know no other.

THE ARGUS PHEASANT, ETC.

Given as examples of plumage, elaborate in structure, and rich in
decoration.

The covering of birds cannot escape the
most vulgar observation. Its lightness^ its

222

NATUEAL THEOLOGY.

smoothness, its warmth; — the disposition of
the feathers all inclined backward, the down
about their stem, the overlapping of their tips,
their different configuration in different parts,
not to mention the variety of their colours,
constitute a vestment for the body, so beautiful,
and so appropriate to the life which the animal
is to lead, as that, I think, we should have had
no conception of anything equally perfect, if
we had never seen it, or can now imagine any-
thing more so. Let us suppose (what is possible
only in supposition) a person who had never
seen a bird, to be presented with a plucked
pheasant, and bid to set his wits to work, how
to contrive for it a covering which shall unite
the qualities of warmth, levity, and least resist-
ance to the air, and the highest degree of each;
giving it also as much of beauty and ornament
as he could afford. He is the person to behold
the work of the Deity, in this part of His
creation, with the sentiments which are due
to it.

The commendation, which the general aspect
of the feathered world seldom fails of exciting,
will be increased by further examination. It
is one of those cases in which the philosopher
has more to admire than the common observer.
Every feather is a mechanical wonder. If we

COMPARATIVE ANATOMY.

223

look at the quill^ we find properties not easily
brought together^ — strength and lightness. I
know few things more remarkable than the
strength and lightness of the very pen with
which I am writing. If we cast our eye to the
upper part of the stem^ we see a material^
made for the purpose^ used in no other class
of animals^ and in no other part of birds ; tough^
light, pliant, elastic. The pith, also, which
occupies the interior of this part, preserves the
form, without adding much to the weight, of
the feather.

But the artificial part of a feather is the
heard^ or, as it is sometimes I believe called,
the vane. By the beards are meant what are
fastened on each side of the stem, and what
constitute the breadth of the feather ; what we
usually strip off from one side or both, when we
make a pen. The separate pieces, or laminae,
of which the beard is composed, are called
threads, sometimes filaments, or rays. Now
the first thing which an attentive observer will
remark is, how much stronger the beard of the
feather shows itself to be, when pressed in a
direction perpendicular to its plane, than when
rubbed, either up or down, in the line of the
stem ; and he will soon discover the structure
which occasions this difference; viz. that the

22i

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

Iamin80 whereof these beards are composed are
flat^ and placed with their flat sides towards
each other ; by which means^ whilst they easily
bend for the approaching of each other^ as any
one may perceive by drawing his Anger ever so
lightly upwards^ fl^ey are much harder to bend
out of their plane^ which is the direction in
which they have to encounter the impulse and
pressure of the air^ and in which their strength
is wanted and put to the trial.

This is one particularity in the structure of
a feather ; a second is still more extraordinary.
Whoever examines a feather cannot help
taking notice that the threads or laminae^ of
which we have been speakings in their natural
state unite ; that their union is something more
than the mere apposition of loose surfaces;
that they are not parted asunder without some
degree of force ; that nevertheless there is no
glutinous cohesion between them; that^ there-
fore^ by some mechanical means or other^ they
catch or clasp among themselves^ thereby
giving to the beard or vane its closeness and
compactness of texture. Nor is this all : when
two laminse^ which have been separated by
accident or force^ are brought together again^
they immediately reclas]? ; the connexion is
perfectly recovered^ and the beard of the

COMPAEATIVE ANATOMY.

2:>5

feather becomes as smooth and firm as if
nothing had happened to it. Draw your finger
down the feather^ which is against the gram,
and you break probably the junction of some of
the contiguous threads ; draw your finger up
the feather, and you restore all things to their
former state. This is no common contrivance :
and now for the mechanism by which it is
effected. The threads or laminae, above men-
tioned, are interlaced with one another ; and the
interlacing is performed by means of a vast
number of fibres, or teeth, which the laminae
shoot forth on each side, and which hook and
grapple together. A friend of mine counted
fifty of these fibres in one twentieth of an inch.
These fibres are crooked, but curved after a
different manner : for those, which proceed
from the thread on the side towards the extre-
mity of the feather, are longer, more flexible,
and bent downward ; whereas those which
proceed from the side towards the beginning,
or quill-end of the feather, are shorter, firmer,
and turn upwards. The process then which
takes place is as follows : — when two laminae
are pressed together, so that these long fibres
are forced far enough over the short ones, their
crooked parts fall into the cavity made by the
crooked parts of the others ; just as the latch

Q

226

. NATURAL THEOLOGY.

that is fastened to a door enters into the cavity
of the catch fixed to the door-post^ and there
hooking itself^ fastens the door; for it is
properly in this manner^ that one thread of a
feather is fastened to the other.

This admirable structure of the feather^
which it is easy to see with the microscope^
succeeds perfectly for the use to which nature
has designed it ; which use was, not only that
the laminae might be united, but that when
one thread or lamina has been separated
from another by some external violence, it
might be reclasped with sufficient facility and
expedition.

In the ostricliy this apparatus of crotchets
and fibres, of hooks and teeth, is in great
measure wanting, and we see the consequence
of the want. The filaments hang loose and
separate from one another, forming only a kind
of down, which constitution of the feathers,
however it may fit them for the flowing
honours of a lady^s head-dress, might be
reckoned an imperfection in the bird, if re-
quired for flying, inasmuch as wings, com-
posed of these feathers, although they may
greatly assist it in running, do not serve for
flight.

But under the present division of our sub-

COMPARATIVE ANATOMY.

227

ject^ our business with feathers is, as they are
the covering of the bird. And herein a singular
circumstance occurs. In the small order of
birds which winter with us, from a snipe down^
wards, their Creator has universally given them
a bed of soft down next their bodies. Down
retains air, which is a bad conductor of heat, and
the purpose here is to Izeep in the heat, arising
from the general circulation of the blood.
It is further, likewise, remarkable, that this is
not found so abundantly in larger birds ; for
which there is also a reason : — small birds are
much more exposed to the cold than large
ones j forasmuch as they present, in proportion
to their bulk, a much larger surface to the air.
If a turkey were divided into a number of
wrens (supposing the shape of the turkey and
the wren to be similar), the surface of all the
wrens would exceed the surface of the turkey,
in the proportion of the length, breadth (or,
of any homologous line), of a turkey to that of
a wren ; which would be, perhaps, a proportion
of ten to one. It was necessary, therefore, that
small birds should be more warmly clad than
large ones ; and this seems to be the expedient,
by which that exigency is provided for.

II. In comparing different animals, I know
no part of their structure which exhibits greater

Q 2

228

NATUEAL THEOLOGY.

variety^ or^ in that variety^ a nicer accommoda-
tion to their respective conveniency, than that
which is seen in the diflFerent formations of
their mouths. Whether the purpose be the
reception of aliment merely, or the catching of
prey, the picking up of seeds, the cropping of
herbage, the extraction of juices, the suction of
liquids, the breaking and grinding of food, the
taste of that food, together with the respiration
of air, and, in conjunction with it, the utterance
of sound ; these various offices are assigned to
this one part, and, in different species, provided
for, as they are wanted, by its different consti-
tution. In the human species, forasmuch as
there are hands to convey the food to the
mouth, the mouth is flat, and by reason of its
flatness, fitted only for reception ; whereas the
projecting jaws, the wide rictus, the pointed
teeth of the dog and his affinities, enable them
to apply their mouths to snatch and seize the
objects of their pursuit. The full lips, the
rough tongue, the corrugated cartilaginous
palate, the broad cutting teeth cf the ox, the
deer, the horse, and the sheep, qualify this tribe
for browsing upon their pasture ; either gather-
ing large mouthfuls at once, where the grass is
long, which is the case with the ox in particu-
lar ; or biting close where it is short, which

COMPAEATIVE ANATOMY. 229

the horse and the sheep are able to do, in a
degree that one could hardly expect. The
retired under-jaw of a swine wm'hs in the ground,
after the protruding snout, like a prong or
plough-share, has made its way to the roots,
upon which it feeds. A conformation so happy
was not the gift of chance.

The structure of the teeth, as well as their

TOOTH OF RODENT.

Tooth of Porcupine; showing the mode of growth of the incisor teeih
of rodents. At the root of the ivory is a vascular pulp (p)

relations to each other and their form^ is speci-
ally adapted to the habits and requirements of
animals. Thus^ the fangs or canine teeth are
long^ pointed^ and strongs to enable the flesh-
feeders to seize their prey ; whilst the molar or
back teeth shut one set within the othei% so as
to cut or lacerate their food^ which is swallowed
in large morsels. In the grass-feeders the
incisor, or front cutting teeth^ are large and

230

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

wide^ to enable their owners to crop the herb-
age ; but the back teeth are broad^ that they
may grind their food as in a mill. In another
class^ the rodents^ as the rat^ squirrel^ and
beaver^ the front teeth^ or incisors, are long
and chisel-shaped, for gnawing, and these are
kept sharp, and continue to grow as they are
worn away.

The arrangement existing for this purpose is
remarkable, and too striking to pass by without
notice. Besides the pulp which forms the
ivory or bone of the tooth, there is.a membrane
which is designed to produce the hard enamel.
But this exists only on the front surface of the
socket, and therefore it is only this edge of the
tooth that is coated with this structure. Thus,
by friction against hard substances, the soft
ivory is worn away more rapidly than the dense
enamel, and the sharp edge is preserved. If
the opposing tooth be lost or broken, that
which is left continues to grow to an inordinate
length. This beautiful adaptation to the habits
of the animal is well exemplified in the porcu-
pine.

In other instance's, likewise, the structure of
teeth varies according to their uses. Thus, in
rodents, the cutting teeth are composed chiefly
of ivory, because it is necessary they should

COMPARATIVE ANATOMY.

231

wear away with regularity as they continue to
grow from the sockets. In flesh -feeders^
including man^ the bony part of the tooth is
covered^ beyond the gum^ with a coating of

elephant’s tooth.

Elephant’s grinder, showing its component structures, a. seen from
above. B. in section. The dentine papillae (d) are enclosed in enamel
(e), and the cement (c) is interposed between adjoining layers of enamel.

very hard and white enamel ; these teeth are
permanent^, and do not grow after attaining
their full size. But the mill-stone^ grinding
teeth of herbivorous animals^ though broad on
their surface^ are irregular^ presenting promi-
nences and deep grooves, which are not worn

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

232

fiat by their grinding use. This important
result is secured by the alternation of the
enamel and ivory in their relation to each other
in the construction of the tooth; and these
textures are moreover imbedded in a thirds
called the cement^ as in the Elephant^s grinders.
Now^ as each of these textures is of a different
degree of hardness^ they wear away unequally,
and thus the permanent irregularity of the
surface is provided for.

In man, who is a mixed feeder, the type of
the animal and vegetable -feeder is combined.

In birds y the mouth assumes a new character;
new both in substance and in form ; but in
both, wonderfully adapted to the wants and
uses of a distinct mode of existence. We have
no longer the fleshy lips, the teeth of enamelled
bone ; but we have, in the place of these two
parts, and to perform the office of both, a hard
substance (of the same nature with that which
composes the nails, claws, and hoofs of quadru-
peds) cut out into proper shapes, and mechani-
cally suited to the actions which are wanted.
The sharp edge and tempered point of the
sparrow^ s bill picks almost every kind of seed
from its concealment in the plant; and not
only so, but hulls the grain, breaks and shatters
the coats of the seed, in order to get at the

COMPAEATIVE ANATOMY.

233

kernel. The hooked beak of the hawk-tribe
separates the flesh from the bones of the ani-
mals which it feeds upon, almost with the clean-
ness and precision of a dissector^s knife. The
butcher-bird transflxes its prey upon the spike
of a thorn, whilst it picks its bones. In some
birds of this class, we have the cross-bill, i. e.,
both the upper and lower bill hooked, and their
tips crossing. The sJ9007^-bill enables the goose
to graze, to collect its food from the bottom of
pools, or to seek it amidst the soft or liquid
substances with which it is mixed. The long^
tapering bill of the snipe and woodcock pene-
trates still deeper into moist earth, which is
the bed in which the food of that species is
lodged. This is exactly the instrument which
the animal wanted. It did not want strength
in its bill, which was inconsistent with the
slender form of the animals neck, as well as
unnecessary for the kind of aliment upon which
it subsists ; but it wanted length to reach its
object.

But the species of bill which belongs to birds
that live by suction, deserves to be described
in its relation to that office. They are what
naturalists call serrated or dentated bills ; the
inside of them, towards the edge, being thickly
set with parallel or concentric rows of short,

234

NATURAL THEOLOaY.

strongs sharp -pointed prickles. These^ though
they should be called teeth^ are not for the pur-
pose of mastication Jike the teeth of quadrupeds ;
nor yet^ as in fish^ for the seizing and retain-
ing of their prey ; but for a quite different use.
They form a filter. The duck by means oi
them discusses the mud ; examining with great
accuracy the puddle^ the brake, every mixture
which is likely to contain her food. The opera-
tion is thus carried on : — The liquid or semi-
liquid substances, in which the animal has
plunged her bill, she draws, by the action of
her lungs, through the narrow interstices which
lie between these teeth ; catching, as the
stream passes across her beak, whatever it may
happen to bring along with it, that proves
agreeable to her choice, and easily dismissing
all the rest. Now, suppose the purpose to
have been, out of a mass of confused and hete-
rogeneous substances,- to separate for the use
of the animal, or rather to enable the animal to
separate for its own, those few particles which
suited its taste and digestion ; what more arti-
ficial, or more commodious instrument of
selection, could have been given to it, than this
natural filter ? It has been observed, also
(what must enable the bird to choose and
distinguish with greater acuteness, as well.

COMPARATIVE ANATOMY.

235

probably^ as what greatly increases its luxury)^
that the bills of this species are furnished with
large nerves^ — that they are covered with a
skin^ — and that the nerves run down to the
very extremity. In the curlew^ woodcock, and
snipe, there are three pairs of nerves, equal
almost to the optic nerve in thickness, which
pass first along the roof of the mouth, and then
along the upper chap down to the point of the
bill, long as the bill is.

But to return to the train of our observa-
tions.— The similitude between the bills of
birds, and the mouths of quadrupeds, is exactly
such, as, for the sake of the argument, might
be wished for. It is near enough to show the
continuation of the same plan ; it is remote
enough to exclude the supposition of the dif-
ference being produced by action or use. A
more prominent contour, or a wider gape,
might be resolved into the effect of continued
efforts, on the part of the species, to thrust
out the mouth, or open it to the stretch. But
by what course of action, or exercise, or enr
deavour, shall we get rid of the lips, the gums,
the teeth ; and acquire, in the place of them,
pincers of horn ? By what habit shall we so
completely change, not only the shape of the
part, but the substance of which it is com-

236

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

posed ? The truth is^ if we had seen no other
than the mouths of quadrupeds^ we should
have thought no other could have been formed :
little could we have supposed^, that all the
purposes of a mouthy furnished with lips^ and
armed with teeth ^ could be answered by an
instrument which had none of these ; could bo
supplied^ and that with many additional advan-
tages, by the hardness, and sharpness, and
figure of the bills of birds. Everything about
the animal mouth is mechanical. The teeth of
fish have their points turned backwards, like
the teeth of a wool or cotton card. The teeth
of lobsters work one against another, like the
sides of a pair of shears. In many insects, the
mouth is converted into a pump or sucker,
fitted at the end sometimes with a wimble,
sometimes with a forceps ; by which double
provision, viz. of the tube and the penetrating
form of the point, the insect first bores through
the integuments of its prey and then extracts
the juices. And, what is most extraordinary
of all, one sort of mouth, as the occasion
requires, shall be changed, into another sort.
The caterpillar could not live without teeth ; in
several species, the butterfly formed from it
could not use them. The old teeth, therefore,
are cast off with the exuviae of the grub ; a

COMPARATIVE ANATOMY.

287

new and totally difierent apparatus assumes
their place in the fly. Amid these novelties
of form, we sometimes forget that it is, all the
while, the animahs mouth ; that, whether it be
lips, or teeth, or bill, or beak, or shears, or
pump, it is the same part diversified; and it is
also remarkable, that, under all the varieties of
configuration with which we are acquainted,
and which are very great, the organs of taste
and smelling are situated near each other,

III. To the mouth adjoins the gullet : in
this part, also, comparative anatomy discovers a
difference of structure, adapted to the different
necessities of the animal. In brutes, because
the posture of their neck conduces little to the
passage of the aliment, the fibres of the gullet,
which act in this business, run in two close
spiral lines, crossing each other : in men, these
fibres run in two layers, longitudinal and cir-
cular, from the upper end of the oesophagus to
the stomach, into which, by a gentle contrac-
tion, they easily transmit the descending
morsels ; that is to say, for the more laborious
deglutition of animals, which thrust their food
u]p instead of down, and also through a longer
passage, a proportionably more powerful appa-
ratus of muscles is provided ; more powerful,
not merely by the strength of the fibres, which

238

NATUKAL THEOLOGY.

might be attributed to the greater exercise of
their force^ but in their collocation, which is a
determinate circumstance, and must have been
original.

The gullet leads to the stomach, which is an
expanded chamber, single in most mammals,
and presenting a tolerably uniform structure :
it is here that the earliest and most important
stage of digestion takes place. But ruminants,
or those animals which chew the cud, possess
a compound stomach consisting of four cavities,
which present important differences in their
size and structure. The first is very large,
and receives the crude, unmasticated food, as
it is gathered and accumulated by the feeder.
The second is much smaller, and has a honey-
comb appearance on its interior. The third
has its lining membrane thrown into longi-
tudinal folds, so as to present a very extended
surface. The fourth cavity, which opens into
the intestine, also presents a folded appearance,
and is similar in texture and function to the
single stomach of other mammals. The oeso-
phagus communicates with both the paunch, or
large receptacle, and the other cavities. When
sufficient food is collected, and the cud is to
be chewed, a small mass of it is admitted into
the second stomach, and thence carried up-

COMPARATIVE ANATOMY.

239

wards by the strong spiral muscles of the
oesophagus into the mouth. After thorough
mastication it is again swallowed, and admitted
into the third cavity, from which it passes into
the true stomach for digestion. The arrange-
ments for this alteration of the course of the
food according to circumstances are strictly
mechanical, though governed by the require-
ments of the time. It is an interesting cir-
cumstance to notice that, in the young suck-
ing ruminant, the first three cavities are com-
paratively undeveloped, and the milk passes
directly to the true stomach for digestion.

The different length of the intestines in
carnivorous and herbivorous animals has been
noticed on a former occasion. The shortest, I
believe, is that of some birds of prey, in which
the intestinal canal is little more than a straight
passage from the mouth to the vent. The
longest is in the deer kind. The intestines of
a Canadian stag, four feet high, measured
ninety-six feet h The intestine of a sheep,
unravelled, measured thirty times the length of
the body. The intestine of a wild cat is only
three times the length of the body. Univer-
sally, where the substance upon which the

Mem. Acad. Paris, 1701, p. 170.

240

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

animal feeds is of slow concoction, and less
closely allied with the animal fabric into which
it has to be converted, there the passage is
circuitous and dilatory, that time and space
may be allowed for the change and the absorp-
tion which are necessary. Where the food is
soon dissolved, or already half assimilated, an
unnecessary, or perhaps hurtful, detention is
avoided by giving to it a shorter and a readier
route.

V. In comparing the hones of different ani-
mals, we are struck, in the bones of birds, with
a propriety, which could only proceed from the
wisdom of an intelligent and designing Creator.
In the bones of an animal which is to fly, the
two qualities required are strength and light-
ness. Wherein, therefore, do the bones of
birds (I speak of the cylindrical bones) differ
in these respects from the bones of quadrupeds ?
In three properties : flrst, their cavities are
much larger in proportion to the weight of the
bone than in those of quadrupeds ; secondly,
these cavities are occupied by air at a high
temperature ; thirdly, the shell is of a flrmer
texture than the substance of other bones. It
is easy to observe these particulars, even in
picking the wing or leg of a chicken. Now,
the weight being the same, the diameter, it is

COMPAEATIVE ANATOMY.

241

evident^ will be greater in a bollow bone than
in a solid one^ and with the diameter^ as every
mathematician can prove^ is increased^ cceieris
paribus, the strength of the cylinder^ or its
resistance to breaking. In a word^ a bone of
the same weight would not have been so strong
in any other form ; and to have made it heavier,
would have incommoded the animahs flight.
Yet this form could not be acquired by
use, or the bone become hollow and tubular by
exercise. What appetency could excavate a
bone ?

VI. The lungs also of birds, as compared
with the lungs of quadrupeds, contain in them
a provision, especially calculated for this same
purpose of levitation ; namely, a communi-
cation (not found in other kinds of animals)
between the air-vessels of the lungs and the
cavities of the body, as well as the bones ; so
that by the intromission of air from one to the
other (at the will, as it should seem, of the ani-
mal:, its body can be occasionally puffed out,
and its tendency to descend in the air, or its
specific gravity, made less. The bodies of birds
are blown up from their lungs (which no other
animal bodies* are), and thus rendered buoyant.
Moreover, by this peculiar arrangement, the
blood throughout the body is more generally

B

242

NATUEAL THEOLOGY.

and constantly supplied with oxygen^ than
where the interchange of gases takes place in
the lungs alone ; whilst the high temperature
of the breathed air rarifies it_, and the whole
bird is thus rendered relatively lighter in the
cooler atmosphere through which it moves.

VII. All birds are oviparous. This likewise
carries on the work of gestation with as little
increase as possible of the weight of the body.
A gravid uterus would have been a troublesome
burthen to a bird in its flight. The advantage
in this respect of an oviparous procreation
is^ thatj whilst the whole brood are hatched
together^ the eggs are excluded singly^ and at
considerable intervals. Ten^ flfteen^ or twenty
young birds may be produced in one cletch or
covey^ yet the parent bird may have never
been encumbered by the load of more than one
full-grown egg at one time.

VIII. A principal topic of comparison be-
tween animals is in their instruments of motion.
These come before us under three divisions;
feet, wings, and flns. I desire any man to say,
w^hich of the three is best fitted for its use ; or
whether the same consummate art be not con-
spicuous in them all. The constitution of the
elements, in which the motion is to be per-
formed, is very different. The animal action

COMPAEATIYE ANATOMY.

243

must necessarily follow that constitution. The
Creator^ therefore^ if we might so speak^ had
to prepare for different situations^ for different
difficulties; yet the purpose is accomplished
not less successfully in one case than in the
other. And^ as between wings and the corre-
sponding limbs of quadrupeds^ it is accomplished
without deserting the general idea. The idea
is modified^ not deserted. Strip a wing of its
feathers, and it bears no obscure resemblance
to the foreleg of a quadruped. The articula-
tions at the shoulder and the arm are much
alike ; and, what is a closer circumstance, in
both cases the upper part of the limb consists
of a single bone, the lower part of two.

But, fitted up with its furniture of feathers
and quills, it becomes a wonderful instrument,
more artificial than its first appearance indicates,
though that be very striking : at least, the use
which the bird makes of its wings in flying is
more complicated, and more curious, than is
generall}^ known. One thing is certain, that
if the flapping of the wings in flight were no
more, than the reciprocal motion of the same
surface in opposite directions, either upwards
and downwards, or estimated in any oblique
line, the bird would lose as much by one
motion as she gained by another. The skylark

R 2

244

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

could never ascend by such an action as this y
for, though the stroke upon the air by the
under side of her wing would carry her up^ the
stroke from the upper side^ when she raised
her wing again^ would bring her down. In
order^ therefore^ to account for the advantage
which the bird derives from her wing, it is
necessary to suppose that the surface of the
wing, measured upon the same plane, is con-
tracted whilst the wing is drawn up ; and let
out to its full expansion, when it descends upon
the air for the purpose of moving the body by
the reaction of that element. Now, the form
and structure of the wing, its external convex-
ity, the disposition, and particularly the over-
lapping of its larger feathers, the action of the
muscles, and joints of the pinions,- are all
adapted to this alternate adjustment of its shape
and dimensions. Such a twist, for instance, or
semi-rotatory motion, is given to the great
feathers of the wing, that they strike the air
with their flat side, but rise from the stroke
slantwise. The turning of the oar in rowing,
whilst the rower advances his hand for a new
stroke, is a similar operation to that of the
feather, and takes its name from the resem-
blance. I believe that this faculty is not found
in the great feathers of the tail. This is the

COMPARATIVE ANATOMY.

245

place also for observing that the pinions are so
set upon the body as to bring down the wings,
not vertically, but in a direction obliquely
tending towards the tail ; which motion, by
virtue of the common resolution of forces, does
two things at the same time; supports the
body in the air, and carries it forward. The
steerage of a bird in its flight is effected partly
by the wings, but in a principal degree by the
tail. And herein we meet with a circumstance
not a little remarkable. Birds with long legs
have short tails, and in their flight place their
legs close to their bodies, at the same time
stretching them out backwards as far as they
can. In this position the legs extend beyond
the rump, and become the rudder, supplying
that steerage which the tail could not.

From the wings of birds, the transition is
easy to fins of fish. They are both, to their
respective tribes, the instruments of their
motion ; but in the work which they have to
do there is a considerable difference, founded
in this circumstance. Fish, unlike birds, have
very nearly the same specific gravity as the
element in which they move. In the case of
fish, therefore, there is little or no weight to
bear up ; what is v/anted is only an impulse
sufficient to carry the body through a resisting

246

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

jjiedium, or to maintain the posture^ or to sup-
port or restore the balance of the body^ which
is always the most unsteady where there is no
weight to sink it. For these offices the fins are
as large as necessary^ though much smaller than
wings^ their action mechanical^ their position,
and the muscles by which they are moved, in
the highest degree convenient. The following
short account of sorde experiments upon fish,
made for the purpose of ascertaining the use of
their fins, will be the best confirmation of what
we assert. In most fish, beside the great fin
the tail, we find two pairs of fins upon the
sides, two single fins upon the back, and one
upon the belly, or rather, between the belly
and the tail. The balancing use of these
organs is proved in this manner. Of the large-
headed fish, if you cut off the pectoral fins, i. e.
the pair which lies close behind the gills, the
head falls prone to the bottom ; if the right
pectoral fin only be cut off, the fish leans to
that side ; if the ventral fin on the same side
be cut away, then it loses its equilibrium
entirely ; if the dorsal and ventral fins be cut
off, the fish reels to the right and left. The
use of the same parts for motion is seen in the
following observation upon them when put in
action. The pectoral , and more particularly

COMPARATIVE AK ATOMY.

24T

the ventral fins^ serve to raise and depress the
fish : when the fish desires to have a retrograde-
motion^ a stroke forward with the pectoral fin
effectually produces it ; if the fish desire to turn
either way_, a single blow with the tail the
opposite way sends it round at once; if the
tail strike both ways, the motion produced by
the double lash is progressive, and enables the^
fish to dart forwards with an astonishing'
velocity. The result is not only in some cases
the most rapid, but . in all cases the most
gentle, pliant, easy animal motion, with which
we are acquainted. However, when the tail is
cut oflP, the fish loses all motion, and gives itself
up to where the water impels it. The rest of
the fins, therefore, so far as respects motion,
seem to be merely subsidiary to this. In their
mechanical use, the anal fin may be reckoned
the keel ; the ventral fins, out-riggers ; the-
pectoral muscles, the oars ; and if there be any
similitude between these parts of a boat and a
fish, observe, that it is not the resemblance of
imitation, but the likeness which arises from
applying similar mechanical means to the same
purpose.

We have seen that the tail in the fish is the
great instrument of motion. Now, in cetaceous^
or warm-blooded fish, which, are obliged to

248

NATUEAL THEOLOGY.

rise every two or three minutes to the surface
to take breathy the tail^ unlike what it is in
other fish^ is horizontal ; its stroke consequently
perpendicular to the horizon^ which is the
right direction for sending the fish to the top
or carrying it down to the bottom.

Eegarding animals in their instruments of
motion^ we have only followed the comparison

FEET OF BIRDS.

Biids’ feet, to show the contrast between the walking and the swimming
birds.

through the first great division of animals
into beasts^ birds^ and fish. If it were our
intention to pursue the consideration further,
I should take in that generic distinction
amongst birds, the iveb-foot of water-fowl. It
is an instance which may be pointed out to a
child. The utility of the web to water-fowl,
the inutility to land-fowl are so obvious, that it
seems impossible to notice the difference with-

COMPARATIVE ANATOMY.

249

out acknowledging the design. I am at a loss
to know^ how those who deny the agency of
an intelligent Creator dispose of this example.
There is nothing in the action of swimming,
as carried on by a bird upon the surface of
the water, that should generate a membrane
between the toes. As to that membrane, it is
an exercise of constant resistance. The only
supposition I can think of is, that all birds
have been originally water-fowl and web-footed;
that sparrows, hawks, linnets, &c. which fre-
quent the land, have in process of time, and in
the course of many generations, had this part
worn away by treading upon hard ground. To
such evasive assumptions must atheism always
have recourse ! and after all, it confesses that
the structure of the feet of birds, in their
original form, was critically adapted to their
original destination ! The web -feet of amphi-
bious quadrupeds, seals, otters, &c. fall under
the same observation.

IX. The jive senses are common to most
large animals; nor have we much difference
to remark in their constitution ; or much, how-
ever, which is referable to mechanism.

The superior sagacity of animals which hunt
their prey, and which consequently depend
for their livelihood upon their nose^ is well

250

NATUEAL THEOLOGY,

known in its use ; and tkis is dependent^ for its
degree of perfection^ on the complicated ar-
rangement of the bones within the nose^ the

HEAD OF A TIGE-.ll,

To show the forward direction of the ears in those animals which pursue
others for prey.

corresponding extent of the delicate membrane
which covers them, and the size of the olfactory
nerves which are distributed to them.

The nostrils of the whale tribe present a

COMPARATIVE ANATOMY.

251

remarkable deviation from the type these parts
present in other mammals: they are^ in fact,
not olfactory organs at all, for this sense is not

To show the backward direction of the ears in those aniraals which are
pursued, for prey, by others.

needed by these inhabitants of the sea, which
nevertheless breathe atmospheric air. The
nostrils, therefore, are used as breathing holes
alone, and are placed on the top of the head.

252

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

to enable tbe animal to respire as soon as it
reaches the surface of the water: and for this
purpose^ these apertures communicate by canals
with the air- tub e^ without entering the mouth.
Yet^ by a complex valvular apparatus^ the
water may be ejected from the mouth through
these canals and hlow-TioleSj as they are termed,
at the summit of the head.

The external ears of beasts of prey, of lions,
tigers, wolves, have their trumpet part, or
concavity, standing forwards, to seize the
sounds which are before them, viz. the sounds
of the animals which they pursue or watch.
The ears of animals of flight are turned back-
ward, to give notice of the approach of their
enemy from behind, whence he may steal upon
them unseen. This is a critical distinction,
and is mechanical : but it may be suggested,
and I think not without probability, that it is
the effect of continual habit.

There appears to be also in the figure, and
in some properties of the pupil of the eye, an
appropriate relation to the wants of difierent
animals. In the smaller animals of the cat
tribe, which hunt by night, the pupil is a
long, vertical fissure, admitting of large dila-
tation, to catch every ray of light. In horses,
oxen, goats, sheep, the pupil of the eye is

COMPARATIVE ANATOMY.

253

elliptical ; the transverse axis being horizontal ;
by vrhich structure^ although the eye be placed
on the side of the head^ the anterior elongation
of the pupil catches the forward rays^ or
those which come from objects immediately in
front of the animaFs faco.

254

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

CHAPTER XIII.

PECULIAR ORGANIZATIONS.

I BELIEVE that all the instances which I shall
collect under this title^ mighty consistently
enough with technical language, have been
placed under the head of Comparative Anatomy,
But the purpose of this chapter is to direct
attention to some instances of special organi-
zation^ which cannot be aptly compared with
any similar structures in other animals. Of
this kind are the examples which I have to
propose : and the reader will see that, though
some of them be the strongest, perhaps, he will
meet with under any division of our subject,
they must necessarily be of an unconnected and
miscellaneous nature. To dispose them, how-
ever, into some sort of order, we will notice,
first, particularities of structure which belong to
quadrupeds, birds, and fish, as such, or to many
of the kinds included in these classes of animals;

PECULIAR ORGANIZATIONS.

255

and then^ such particularities as are confined to
one or two species.

I. In many animals^ such as those which
browse on the ground^ with heavy heads and
hornS; as the horse or stag^ or with long necks^
as the giraffe and camel^ there must necessarily

Showing the spinous processes of the vertebrae, to which the elastic
ligament supporting the head is attached.

be a large expenditure of muscular force to
raise the head^ and even to keep it erects if
there were not some compensating arrangement
to afford the requisite support. This is accom-
plished by the presence of a broad, powerful
band, or rather sheet of elastic texture, which

266

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

extends from the back of the skull along the
spines of the cervical vertehrse^ or even further
backwards; and thus the muscular force is
economized^ by the head being supported by
this suspensory ligament ; and grace and ease
in movement are substituted for awkward and
painful exertion.

II. The structure which is known as whalebone
really occupies the position^ though it cannot be
said to perform the office^ of teeth. It consists in
the whale of several rows of flat plates^ of which
the outer are the longest^ attached to the gums
of the upper jaw. These plates are arranged
in parallel order^ many being of great lengthy
and terminating, at their free border, in a horny
fringe, resembling coarse hair. Through this
enormous sieve the water which is taken into
the mouth is strained ; and the molluscs, which
form the food of this huge animal, are thus
gathered for its use. As this whalebone wears
away, it is constantly replaced by fresh growth
from below. It would be difficult to point out
a more remarkable and unique adaptation to
a particular purpose, than is presented by this
singular development in place of teeth.

III. The oil with which birds prune their
feathers, and the organ which supplies it, is a
specific provision for the winged creation. On

PECULIAR ORGANIZATIONS.

257

each side of the rump of birds is observed a
small nipple, yielding upon pressure a butter-
like substanee, which the bird extracts by
pinching the pap with its bill. With this oil,
or ointment, thus procured, the bird dresses its
coat; and repeats the action as often as its own
sensations teach it that it is in any part wanted,
or as the excretion may be sufficient for the
expense. The value of this arrangement, in
water-fowl espeeially, must be apparent ; as
they are thereby enabled to keep their plu-
mage dry. The gland, the pap, the nature and
quality of the excreted substance, the manner
of obtaining it from its lodgment in the body,
the applieation of it when obtained, form, col-
lectively, an evidence of intention which it is
not easy to withstand. Nothing similar to it
is found in unfeathered animals. What blind
aonatus of nature should produce it in birds;
should not produce it in beasts ?

IV. The swimming-bladder of a fish is a
bag containing air, fixed firmly beneath the
spine, and varying considerably in its shape.
It is strong in its structure, and from it isin-
glass is obtained. The air is produced, as a
secretion, from the inner surface of the bladder,
which, in some instances, is a closed sac, but
in others communicates with the oesophagus or

258

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

stomach. The voluntary muscular compression

TH£ FAHAKA OF THE NILE,

Opened to show the air-bladder.

of this bag is effected by the contraction of the

PECULIAR ORGANIZATIONS.

259

walls of the abdomen, or by a special muscular
apparatus provided in some fishes.

This air-bladder therefore affords a plain and
direct instance, not only of contrivance, but
strictly of that species of contrivance which we
denominate mechanical. It is a philosophical
apparatus in the body of an animal. The prin-
ciple of the contrivance is clear ; the application
of the principle is also clear. The use of the
organ to sustain^ and, at will, also to elevate
the body of the fish in water, is proved by
observing, what has been tried, that when the
bladder is burst the fish grovels at the bottom ;
and also, that flounders, soles, skates, which are
without the air-bladder, seldom rise in the
water, and that with effort. The manner in
which the purpose is attained, and the suitable-
ness of the means to the end, are not difiicult to
be apprehended. The rising and sinking of a
fish in water, so far as it is independent of the
stroke of the fins and the tail, can only be
regulated by the specific gravity of the body.
When the bladder contained in the body of
the fish is contracted, which the fish so provided
possesses a muscular power of doing, the bulk
of the fish is contracted along with it; whereby,
since the absolute weight remains the same,
the specific gravity, which is the sinking force,
s 2

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

260

is increased, and the fish descends : on the con-
trary, when, in consequence of the relaxation of
the muscles, the expansion of the previously
compressed space restores the dimensions of
the bladder, the tendency downwards becomes
proportionably less than it was before, or is
turned into a contrary tendency. These are
known properties of bodies immersed in a fluid.
The enamelled figures, or little glass bubbles, in a
jar of water, are made to rise and fall by the
same artifice. A diving machine might be made
to ascend and descend, upon the like principle ;
namely, by introducing into the inside of it an
air-vessel, which, by its contraction would dimin-
ish, and by its distension enlarge, the bulk of
the machine itself, and thus render it specifi-
cally heavier, or specifically lighter, than the
water which surrounds it. Suppose this to be
done, and the artist to solicit a patent for his
invention. The inspectors of the model, whatever
they might think of the use or value of the
contrivance, could by no possibility entertain a
question in their minds, whether it were a
contrivance or not. No reason has ever been
assigned, — no reason can be assigned, why the
conclusion is not as certain in the fish as it is in
the machine ; why the argument is not as firm
in one case as the other.

PECULIAE OPGAKTZATTOTTS.

261

Nothing similar to the air-bladder is found
in land-animals; and a life in the water has
no natural tendency to produce a bag of air.
Nothing can be further from an acquired organi-
zation than this is.

HEAD OF A RATTLE-SNAKE,

Partially dissected, to show the fangs and the poison-bag.

These examples mark the attention of the
Creator to the three great kingdoms of His
animal creation^ — and to their constitution as
such. The example which stands next in point
of generality^ belonging to a large tribe of
animals^ or rather to various species of a tribe^
is the poisonous tooth of serpents.

263

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

I. The poison fangs of venotaous snakes
present a clear and striking example of special
mechanical contrivance. These teeth, two in
number, are fixed in the front of the upper jaw,
and are long and pointed. Each tooth is tra-
versed by a canal, which has a large triangular
opening near the base of the tooth, and termi-
nates, near the point, in a narrow fissure.
Further, these peculiar teeth are usually hidden
in the roof of the mouth, where they lie flat,
eovered by a fold of the mucous membrane ; but
the animal has the power of erecting them
suddenly by the action of muscles appropriated
to that special purpose. But why does all this
peculiar mechanism exist ? It is explained by
the presence of a large gland which secretes a
deadly poison, and which is so enveloped in the
muscular apparatus by which the jaws are
closed, that during that movement the poison
is forcibly injected into the canal in the tooth,
along which it finds its way into the pierced body
of the victim. The permanent erection of these
teeth would be a palpable and serious incon-
venience to the animal, and therefore they are
usually hidden. If a poison fang be broken
ojff, another is developed to take its place and
perform its office. What more unequivocal or
efiectual apparatus could be devised, for the

PECULIAR ORGANIZATIONS.

268

double purpose of at once inflicting the wound
and injecting the poison ?

II. In being the property of several different
species^ the preceding example is resembled by
that which I shall next mention^ which is the
hag of the opossum. This is a mechanical con-
trivance^ most properly so called ; and is speci-
ally needed in this singular class of animals,
in which the young are born at so early a period
of their development, and require to be con-
stantly in close relation with the source of their
nutriment. The simplicity of the expedient
renders the contrivance more obvious than
many others, and by no means less certain.
The skin under the belly of the animal forms
a pouch, into which the young litter are
received at their birth ; where they have an
easy and constant access to the teats ; in which
they are transported by the dam from place to
place ; where they are at liberty, when suffici-
ently strongs to run in and out ; and where
they find a refuge from surprise and danger.
It is their cradle, their asylum, and the machine
for their conveyance. Can the use of this
structure be doubted of? Nor is it a mere
doubling of the skin ; it is a special organ, fur-
nished with a pair of bones for its support,
which are attached to the front of the os pubis ;

264

KATUEAL THEOLOGY.

and the mouth of this sac is closed by a strong*
cutaneous sphincter muscle. Whilst the young*
are too feeble to suck^ the milk is pressed from
the teat into the clinging mouth of the foetus
by a special muscular arrangement ; and the
relation between the wind-pipe and oesophagus
is peculiarly adapted to obviate the risk of
suffocation^ in swallowing, at this period of the
animahs existence.

III. As a particularity, yet appertaining to
more species than one, and also as strictly me-
chanical, we may notice a circumstance in the
structure of the claws of certain birds. The
middle claw of the heron and cormorant is
toothed and notched like a saw. These birds
are great fishers, and these notches assist them
in holding their slippery prey. The use is
evident; but the structure is such as cannot
at all be accounted for by the eflPort of the
animal, or the exercise of the part. Some
other fishing birds have these notches in their
bills ; and for the same purpose. The gannet,
or Soland goose, has the side of its bill irregu-
larly jagged, that it may hold its prey the
faster. Nor can the structure in this, more
than in the former case, arise from the manner
of employing the part. The smooth surfaces,
and soft flesh of fish, were less likely to notch

PECULIAR ORGANIZATIONS.

265

the bills of birds^ than the hard bodies upon
which many other species feed.

We now come to particularities strictly so
called^ as being limited to a single species of
animal. Of these I shall take one from a quad-
ruped and one from a bird.

I. The stomach of the camel is well known to
retain large quantities of water^ and to retain
it unchanged for a considerable length of time.
This property qualifies it for living in the
desert. Let us see^ therefore^ what is the
internal organization^ upon which a faculty so
rare^ and so beneficial depends. A number of
distinct cells or bags (in a dromedary thirty of
these have been counted) are observed to lie
between the membranes of the second stomach
and part of the paunchy and to open into the
stomach near the top by small square apertures.
Through these orifices^ after the stomach is full,
the annexed bags are filled from it; and the
water so deposited is retained there by the
muscular contraction of the orifice of each cell,
and is therefore not liable to pass into the in-
testines ; in the second place, it is kept separate
from the solid aliment ; and, in the third place,
it is out of the reach of the digestive action of
the stomach, or of mixture with the gastric
juice. It appears probable, or rather certain.

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NATURAL THEOLOGY.

that the animal, by the conformation, of its
muscles, possesses the power of squeezing back
this water from the adjacent bags into the
stomach, whenever thirst excites it to put this
power in action.

SKULL OF A •VTOODPF CKER,

Showing the remarkably long and elastic tongue, which is attached to
the upper part of the head.

II. The tongue of the woodpecker is one of
those singularities which nature presents us
with, when a single purpose is to be answered.
It is a particular instrument for a particular
use : and what, except design, ever produces
such ? The woodpecker lives chiefly upon insects,
lodged in the bodies of decayed or decaying trees.
For the purpose of boring hito the wood, it is
furnished with a bill, straight, hard, angular,
and sharp. When, by means of this piercer, it
has reached the cells of the insects, then comes
the office of its tongue ; which tongue is, first.

PECULIAR ORGANIZATIONS.

267

of such a length that the bird can dart it out
three or four inches from the bill^ — in this
respect diifering greatly from every other species
of bird ; in the second place^ it is tipped with a
stilf^ sharp^ bony thorn ; and^ in the third place
(which appears to me the most remarkable
property of all), this tip is dentated on both
sides, like the beard of an arrow or the barb of
a hook. The description of the part declares its
uses. The bird, having exposed the retreats of
the insects by the assistance of its bill, with a
motion inconceivably quick, launches out at
them this long tongue, transfixes them upon
the barbed needle at the end of it, and thus
draws its prey within its mouth. If this be
not mechanism, what is? Should it be said
that, by continual endeavours to shoot out the
tongue to the stretch, the woodpecker^s species
may by degrees have lengthened the organ
itself, beyond that of other birds, what account
can be given of its form, of its tip? how, in par-
ticular, did it get its barb, its dentation ? These
barbs, in my opinion, wherever they occur,
are decisive proofs of mechanical contrivance.

To the foregoing instances may be added an-
other,—

III. The walrus, a gigantic seal, is provided
with two canine teeth in the upper jaw, of great

268

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

size and strength^ and attaining from one to
two feet in length. The habits of the animal
are inconsistent with the use of these tusks as
ordinary weapons of offence ; hut they are em-
ployed as climbing instruments^ by which the
animal drags its heavy body along the ground, or
clings to the rock whilst reposing in the water.

The habits of the sloth were unknown long
after we were acquainted with the animal,
which was regarded by eminent naturalists as
affording an exemplification of awkward and
unmeaning construction. (Cuvier speaks of
nature having wished to produce something
imperfect and grotesque.^^) Its fingers are con-
nected together, and armed with enormous hooked
claws. Its hind feet are so joined to the legs as
to rest only on their outer borders, and the front
limbs are much longer than the hind. The con-
sequence of these peculiarities is that the animal
moves along the ground with a painful and
awkward slowness. But, when seen hanging
securely from branches of trees on which it feeds,
the explanation of this peculiar organization
becomes apparent, and its strength and activity
are quite equal to its necessities in moving from
branch to branch, in clinging, or in swinging
itself from tree to tree.

PROSPECTIVE CONTRIVANCES.

269

CHAPTER XIV.

PROSPECTIVE CONTRIVANCES.

I CAN hardly imagine to myself a more distin-
guished mark^ and consequently a more certain
proofs of design, than preparation^ i. e. the
providing of things beforehand which are not to
be used until a considerable time afterwards;
for this implies a contemplation of the future,
which belongs only to intelligence.

Of these prospective contrivances, the bodies
of animals furnish various examples.

I. The human teeth afford an instance, not
only of prospective contrivance, but of the
completion of the contrivance being designedly
suspended. They are formed within the gums,
and there they stop ; the fact being, that their
further advance to maturity would not only be
useless to the new-born animal, but extremely
in its way; as it is evident that the act of
sucking, by which it is for some time to be

270

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

nourished^ will be performed with more ease
both to the nurse and to the infant, whilst the
inside of the mouth and edges of the gums
are smooth and soft, than if set with hard
pointed bones. By the time they are wanted,
the teeth are ready. They have been lodged
within the gums for some months past, but
detained, as it were in .their sockets, so long as
their further protrusion would interfere with
the office to which the mouth is destined.
Nature, namely, that intelligence which was
employed in creation, looked beyond the first
year of the infantas life; yet, whilst she was
providing for functions, which were after that
term to become necessary, was careful not to
incommode those which preceded them. What
renders it more probable that this is the effect
of design, is, that the teeth are imperfect,
whilst all other parts of the mouth are perfect.
The lips are perfect, the tongue is perfect ; the
cheeks, the jaws, the palate, the pharynx, the
larynx, are all perfect; the teeth alone are not
so. This is the fact with respect to the human
mouth : the fact also is that the parts above
enumerated are called into use from the begin-
ning, whereas the teeth would be only so
many obstacles and annoyances, if they were
there. When a contrary order is necessary,

PROSPECTIVE CONTRIVANCES.

271

a contrary order prevails. In the worm of the
beetle^ as hatched from the egg, the teeth
are the first things which arrive at perfec-
tion. The insect begins to gnaw as soon as
it escapes from the shelly though its other
parts be only gradually advancing to their
maturity.

What has been observed of the teeth is true
of the Aorns of animals^ and for the same reason.
The horn of a calf or a lamb does not bud^ or at
least does not sprout to any considerable lengthy
until the animal be capable of browsing upon its
pasture ; because such a substance upon the
forehead of the young animal would very much
incommode the teat of the dam in the oflSce of
giving suck.

But in the case of the ieetliy — of the human
teeth at leasts — the prospective contrivance looks
still further. A succession of crops is provided^
and provided from the beginning ; a second tier
being originally formed beneath the firsts which
do not come into use till several years after-
wards. And this double or suppletory provision
meets a difficulty in the mechanism of the
mouth, which would have appeared almost
insurmountable. The expansion of the jaw
(the consequence of the proportionable growth
of the animal^ and of its skull,) necessarily

272

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

separates the teeth of the first set^ however
compactly disposed, to a distance from one
another which would be very inconvenient. In
due time, therefore, i. e. when the jaw has
attained a great part of its dimensions, a new
set of teeth springs up, larger and more nume-
rous, more exactly fitted to the space which
they are to occupy, and rising also in such close
ranks, as to allow for any extension of line
which the subsequent enlargement of the head
may occasion. This new growth is preceded by
the loosening of the first set, which are cast
out to make way for the permanent teeth.

II. It is not very easy to conceive a more
evidently prospective contrivance than that
which, in all viviparous animals, is found in the
milh of the female parent. At the moment the
young animal enters the world, there is its
maintenance ready for it. The particulars to
be remarked in this economy are neither few
nor slight. We have first the nutritious
quality of the fluid, unlike, in this respect,
every other excretion of the body ; and in which
nature hitherto remains unimitated, neither
cookery nor chemistry having been able to
make milk out of grass; we have, secondly,
the organ for its production, existing only in
the female ; we have, thirdly, the excretory duct

PROSPECTIVE CONTRIVANCES.

a73

annexed to that organ ; and we have, lastly,
the determination of the milk to the breast, at
the particular juncture when it is about to be
wanted. We have all these properties in the
subject before us; and they are all indications
of design. The last circumstance is the strong-
est of any. If I had been to guess beforehand,
I should have conjectured, that at the time
when there was an extraordinary demand for
nourishment in one part of the system there
would be the least likelihood of a redundancy to
supply another part. The advanced pregnancy
of the female has no intelligible tendency to fill
the breast with milk. The lacteal system is a
constant wonder; and it adds to other causes oi
our admiration, that the number of the teats oi
paps in each species is found to bear a propor-
tion to the number of the young. In the sow,
the bitch, the rabbit, the cat, the rat, which
have numerous litters, the paps are numerous,
and are disposed along the whole length of the
belly ; in the cow and mare, they are few.
The most simple account of this is to refer it
to a designing Creator.

But, in the argument before us we are en-
titled to consider not only animal bodies when
framed, but the circumstances under which

T

274

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

they are framed ; and in this view of the sub-
ject, the constitution of many of their parts is
most strictly prospective.

III. The eye is of no use at the time when
it is formed. It is an optical instrument made
in a dungeon ; constructed for the refraction of
light to a focus, and perfect for its purpose
before a ray of light has had access to it;
geometrically adapted to the properties and
action of an element with which it has no
communication. It is about indeed to enter
into that communication ; and this is precisely
the thing which evidences intention. It is
providing for the future in the closest sense
which can be given to these terms; for it is
providing for a future change, not for the then-
subsisting condition of the animal, nor for any
gradual progress or advance in that same condi-
tion, but for a new state, the consequence of a
great and sudden alteration, which the animal
is to undergo at its birth. Is it to be believed
that the eye was formed, or which is the same
thing, that the series of causes was fixed by
which the eye is formed, without a view to this
change ; without a prospect of that condition,
in which its fabric, of no use at present, is about
to be of the greatest ; without a consideration
of the qualities of that element, hitherto entirely

PEOSPECTIVE CONTIMVANCES.

275

excluded, but with which it was hereafter to
hold so intimate a relation? A young man
makes a pair of spectacles for himself against he
grows old ; for which spectacles he has no want
or use whatever at the time he makes them.
Could this be done without knowing and con-
sidering the defect of vision to which advanced
age is subject ? Would not the precise suit-
ableness of the instrument to its purpose, of the
remedy to the defect, of the convex lens to the
flattened eye, establish the certainty of the con-
clusion, that the case, afterwards to arise, had
been considered beforehand, speculated upon,
provided for ? all which are exclusively the acts
of a reasoning mind. The eye formed in one
state, for use only in another state, and in a dif-
ferent state, affords a proof no less clear of
destination to a future purpose, and a proof
proportionably stronger, as the machinery is
more complicated and the adaptation more
exact.

IV. What has been said of the eye holds
equally true of the lungs. Composed of air-
vessels, where there is no air ; elaborately con-
structed for the alternate admission and expul-
sion of an elastic fluid, where no such fluid
exists; this great organ, with the whole appara-
tus belonging to it, lies collapsed in the foetal
T 2

276

NATURAL THEOLOGY

thorax^ yet in order^ and in readiness for action,
the first moment that the occasion requires
its service. This is having a machine locked
up in store for future use : which incontestably
proves, that the case was expected to occur, in
which this use might be experienced : but
expectation is the proper act of intelligence.
Considering the state in which an animal exists
before its birth, I should look for nothing less
in its body than a system of lungs. It is like
finding a pair of bellows in the bottom of the sea ;
of no sort of use in the situation in which they
are found; formed for an action which was
impossible to be exerted; holding no relation
or fitness to the element which surrounds
them, but both to another element in another
place.

As part and parcel of the same plan ought
to be mentioned, in speaking of the lungs, the
provisionary contrivances of the foramen ovale
and ductus arteriosus. In the foetus, pipes are
laid for the passage of the blood through the
lungs ; but, until the lungs be inflated by the
inspiration of air, that passage is impervious, or
in a great degree obstructed. What then is to
be done ? what would an artist, what would a
master, do upon the occasion ? He would
endeavour, most probably, to provide a temjoo^

PROSPECTIVE CONTRIVANCES.

277

rary passage^ which might carry on the com-
munication required, until the other was open.
Now this is the thing which is actually done in
the heart : — Instead of the circuitous route
through the lungs, which the blood afterwards
takes before it gets from one auricle of the heart
to the other, a portion of the blood passes imme-
diately from the right auricle to the left, through
a hole placed in the partition which separates
these cavities. This hole anatomists call the
foramen ovale. There is likewise another cross
cut answering the same purpose, by what is
called the ductus arteriosus, lyiiig between the
pulmonary artery and the aorta. But both
expedients are so strictly temporary, that after
birth the one passage is closed, and the
tube which forms the other shrivelled up
into a ligament. If this be not contrivance,
what is ?

But, forasmuch as the action of the air upon
the blood in the lungs appears to be necessary
to the purification of that fluid, i.e. to the life
and health of the animal (otherwise the shortest
route might still be the best), how comes it to
pass that the foetus lives, and grows, and thrives,
without it ? The answer is, that the blood of
the foetus is originally derived from the mother,
and is purified in a different way. When the

278

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

animals are separated^ a new necessity arises;
and to meet this necessity as soon as it occurs
an organization is prepared. It is ready for its
purpose ; it only waits for the atmosphere ; it
begins to play the moment the air is admitted
to it.

RELATIONS.

27^

CHAPTER XV.

RELATIONS.

When several different parts contribute to one
effect, or, which is the same thing, when an
effect is produced by the joint action of different
instruments ; the fitness of such parts or instru-
ments to one another, for the purpose of pro-
ducing by their united action the .effect, is what
I call relation : and wherever this is observed

^ -r

in the works of nature or of man, it appears to
me to carry along with it decisive evidence of
understanding, intention, art. In examining,
for instance, the several parts of a watch^ the
spring, the barrel, the chain, the fusee, the
balance, the wheels of various sizes, forms, and
positions, what is it which would take an
observer's attention, as most plainly evincing a
construction, directed by thought, deliberation,
and contrivance ? It is the suitableness of these
parts to one another; first, in the succession.

280

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

and order in which they act; and^ secondly^
with a view to the effect finally produced. Thus^
referring the spring to the wheels^ our observer
sees in it that which originates and upholds
their motion ; in the chain^ that which transmits
the motion to the fusee ; in the fusee^ that
which communicates it to the wheels ; in the
conical figure of the fusee^ if he refer to the
springs he sees that which corrects the inequality
of its force. Referring the wheels to one another^
he notices^ first, their teeth, which would have
been without use or meaning, if there had been
only one wheel, or if the wheels had had no con-
nexion between themselves, or common bearing
upon some joint effect; secondly, the corre-
spondency of their position, so that the teeth of
one wheel catch into the teeth of another ;
thirdly, the proportion observed in the number
of teeth of each wheel, which determines the
rate of going. Referring the balance to the
rest of the works, he saw, when he came to
understand its action, that which rendered their
motions equable. Lastly, in looking upon the
index and face of the watch, he saw the use and
conclusion of the mechanism, viz., marking the
succession of minutes and hours ; but all depend-
ing upon the motions within, all upon the
system of intermediate actions between the

RELATIONS.

281

spring and the pointer. What thus struck his
attention in the several parts of the watch, he
might probably designate by one general name
of relation : and observing with respect to
all Leases whatever, in which the origin and for-
mation of a thing could be ascertained by evi-
dence, that these relations were found in things
produced by art and design, and in no other
things, he would rightly deem of them as cha-
racteristic of such productions. — To apply the
reasoning here described to the works of nature.

The animal economy is full — is made up — of
these relations,

I. There are, first, what in one form or other
belong to all animals, the parts and powers
which successively act upon their food. Com-
pare this action with the process of a manufac-
tory. In men and quadrupeds, the aliment is
first broken and bruised by mechanical instru-
ments of mastication, viz., sharp spikes or hard
knobs, pressing against or rubbing upon one
another: thus ground and comminuted, it is
carried by a pipe into the stomach, where it
waits to undergo a great chemical action, which
we call digestion : when digested, it is delivered
through an orifice, which opens and shuts as
there is occasion, into the first intestine : there,
afi^v being mixed with certain proper ingre-

282

NATURAL THEOLOGY

dients^ poured through a hole in the side of the
vessel^ it is further dissolved : in this state the
chyle^ or part which is wanted, and which is
suited for animal nourishment, is strained off
by the mouths of very small tubes, opening
into the cavity of the intestines ; thus freed
from its grosser parts, the percolated fluid is
carried by a long, winding, but traceable course,,
into the main stream of the old circulation;
which conveys it, in its progress, to every part
of the body. Now I say again, compare this
with the process of a manufactory; with the
making of cider, for example ; with the bruising
of the apples in the mill, the squeezing of them
when so bruised in the press, the fermentation
in the vat, the bestowing of the liquor thus
fermented in the hogsheads, the drawing off
into bottles, the pouring out for use into the
glass. Let any one show me any difference
between these two cases, as to the point of con-
trivance. That which is at present under our
consideration, the relation of the parts suc-
cessively employed, is not more clear in the last
case than in the first. The aptness of the jaws
and teeth to prepare the food for the stomach
is, at least, as manifest, as that of the cider-mill
to crush the apples for the press. The concoc-
tion of the food in the stomach is as necessary

RELATIONS.

283

for its future use^ as the fermentation of the
stum in the vat is to the perfection of the liquor
The disposal of the aliment afterwards ; the
action and change which it undergoes ; the route
which it is made to take^ in order that^ and
until that^ it arrive at its destination^ is more
complex indeed and intricate^ but^ in the midst
of complication and intricacy, as evident and
certain* as is the apparatus of cocks, pipes,
tunnels^ for transferring the cider from one
vessel to another; of barrels and bottles for
preserving it till fit for use, or of cups and
glasses for bringing it, when wanted, to the lip
of the consumer. The character of the machi-
nery is in both cases this, that one part answers
to another part, and every part to the final
result.

This parallel, between the alimentary operation
and some of the processes of art, might be
carried further into detail. A circumstantial
resemblance exists between the stomachs of
gallinaceous fowls and the structure of corn~
mills. Whilst the two sides of the gizzard
perform the office of the mill-stones, and are
worked by powerful muscles, the craw or crop
supplies the place of the hopper.

When our fowls are abundantly supplied with
meat they soon fill their craw, which is a

284

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

dilatation of the oesophagus : but it does not
immediately pass thence into the gizzard; it
always enters in very small quantities^ in pro-
portion to the progress of trituration ; in like
manner as^ in a mill^ a receiver is fixed above
the two large stones which serve for grinding
the corn ; which receiver^ although the corn be
put into it by bushels^ allows the grain to
dribble only in small quantities into the central
hole in the upper mill-stone.

But we have not done with the alimentary
history. There subsists a general relation
between the external organs of an animal by
which it procures its food, and the internal
powers by which it digests it. Birds of prey,
by their talons and beaks, are qualified to seize
and devour many species, both of other birds
and of quadrupeds. The constitution of the
stomach agrees exactly with the form of the
members. The gastric juice of a bird of prey, of
an owl, a falcon, or a kite, acts upon the animal
fibre alone ; it will not act upon seeds or grasses
at all, and they have no gizzard. On the other
hand, the conformation of the mouth of the
sheep or the ox is suited for browsing upon
herbage. Nothing about these animals is
fitted for the pursuit of living prey. Accord-
ingly it has been found by experiments, tried

RELATIONS.

285

not many years ago^ with perforated balls^ that
the gastric juice of ruminating animals^ such as
the sheep and the ox^ speedily dissolves vegetables,
but makes no impression upon animal bodies.
This aceordancy is still more particular. The
gastric juice even of granivorous birds will not
act upon the grain whilst whole and entire.
In performing the experiment of digestion with
the gastric juice in vessels, the grain must be
crushed and bruised before it be submitted to the
menstruum; that is to say, must undergo by
art without the body, the preparatory action
which the gizzard exerts upon it within the
body; or no digestion will take place. So
strict, in this case, is the relation between the
offices assigned to the digestive organ, between
the mechanical operation and the chemical
process.

II. The relation of the kidneys to the bladder,
and of the ureters to both, i. e. of the secreting
organ to the vessel receiving the secreted liquor,
and the pipe laid from one to the other, for the
purpose of conveying it from one to the other,
is as manifest as it is amongst* the different
vessels employed in a distillery, or in the com-
munications between them. The animal struc-
ture in this case being simple, and the parts
easily separated, it forms an instance of corre-

286

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

lation which may be presented by dissection to
very eye^ or which indeed, without dissection,
is capable of being apprehended by every under-
standing. This correlation of instruments to
one another fixes intention somewhere.

Especially when every other solution is nega-
tived by the conformation. If the bladder had
been merely an expansion of the ureter^ pro-
duced by retention of the fluids there ought to
have been a bladder for each ureter. One re-
ceptacle^ fed by two pipes^ issuing from different
sides of the body^ yet from both conveying the
same ffuid^ is not to be accounted for by anv
such supposition as this.

III. Relation of parts to one another accom-
panies us throughout the whole animal economy.
Can any relation be more simple, yet more con-
vincing, than this, that the eyes are so placed
as to look in the direction in which the legs
move and the hands work? It might have
happened very differently if it had been left to.
chance. There were at least three quarters of
the compass out of four to have erred in. Any
considerable alteration in the position of the eye,
or the figure of the joints, would have disturbed
the line, and destroyed the alliance between the
sense and the limbs.

IV. But relation perhaps is never so striking

RELATIONS.

287

as when it subsists^ not between different parts
of the same thing but^ between different things.
The relation between a lock and a key is more
obvious than it is between different parts of the
lock. A bow was designed for an arrow, and an
arrow for a bow : and the design is more evident
for their being separate implements.

Nor do the works of the Deity want this
clearest species of relation. The sexes are mani-
festly made for each other. They form the
grand relation of animated nature ; universal,
organic, mechanical ; subsisting like the clear-
est relations of art, in different individuals;
unequivocal, inexplicable without design. So
much so, that were every other proof of con-
trivance in nature dubious or obscure, this
alone would be sufficient. The example is com-
plete. Nothing is wanting to the argument,
I see no way whatever of getting over it.

V. The teats of animals which give suck
bear a relation to the mouth of the suckling
progeny; particularly to the lips and tongue.
Here also, as before, is a correspondency of
parts ; which parts subsist in different indivi-
duals.

These are general relations, or the relations
of parts which are found, either in all animals,

288

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

or in large classes and descriptions of animals.
Particular relations^ or the relations which
subsist between the particular configuration of
one or more parts of certain species of animals,
and the particular configuration of one or more
other parts of the same animal (which is the
sort of relation that is perhaps most striking),
are such as the following : —

I. In the Swan ; the web-foot, the spoon-bill/
the long neck, the thick down, the gramini-
vorous stomach, bear all a relation to one another,
inasmuch as they all concur in one design, that
of supplying the occasions of an aquatic fowl,
floating upon the surface of shallow pools of
water, and seeking its food at the bottom.
Begin with any one of these particularities of
structure, and observe how the rest follow it.
The web-foot qualifies the bird for swimming ;
the spoon-bill enables it to graze. But how is
an animal, floating upon the surface of pools of
water, to graze at the bottom, except by the
mediation of a long neck? A long neck ac-
cordingly is given to it. Again, a warm-blooded
animal, which was to pass its life upon water,
required a defence against the coldness of that
element. Such a defence is furnished to the
swan, in the muff in which its body is wrapped.
But all this outward apparatus would Tiave been

EELATIONS.

289

in vain, if the intestinal system had not been
suited to the digestion of vegetable substances.
I say suited to the digestion of vegetable sub-
stances : for it is well known, that there are two
intestinal systems found in birds, one with a
membranous stomach and a gastric juice, capable
of dissolving animal substances alone ; the other
with a crop and gizzard, calculated for the moist-
ening, bruising, and afterwards digesting, of
vegetable aliment.

Or set off with any other distinctive part in
the body of the swan ; for instance, with the long
neck. The long neck, without the web-foot,
would have been an encumbrance to the bird ;
yet there is no necessary connexion between a
long neck and a web-foot. In fact they do not
usually go together. How happens it, therefore,
that they meet only when a particular design
demands the aid of both ?

II. This mutual relation, arising from a sub-
serviency to a common purpose, is very observ-
able also in the parts of a Mole. The strong
short legs of that animal, the palmated feet
armed with sharp nails, the pig-like nose, the
teeth, the velvet coat, the small external ear,
the sagacious smell, the sunk protected eye, all
conduce to the utilities or to the safety of its
underground life. It is a special purpose,

V

290

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

specially consulted throughout. The form of
the feet fixes the character of the animal. They
are so many shovels ; they determine its action
to that of rooting in the ground ; and every-
thing about its body agrees with this destination.
The cylindrical figure of the mole, as well as the
compactness of its form, arising from the terse-
ness of its limbs, proportionally lessens its
labour ; because, according to its bulb, it thereby
requires the least possible quantity of earth to
be removed for its progress. It has nearly the
same structure of the face and jaws as a swine,
and the same office for them. The nose is sharp,
slender, strong; with a pair of nerves going
down to the end of it. The plush covering,
which, by the smoothness, closeness, and polish
of the short piles that compose it, rejects the
adhesion of almost every species of earth, defends
the animal from cold and wet, and from the
impediment which it would experience by the
mould sticking to its body. From soils of all
kinds the little pioneer comes forth bright and
clean. Inhabiting dirt, it is of all animals the
neates'i.

But what I have always most admired in the
mole is its eyes. This animal occasionally visit-
ing the surface, and wanting, for its safety and
direction, to be informed when it does so, or

RELATIONS.

291

when it approaches it, a perception of light was
necessary. I do not know that the clearness of
sight depends at all upon the size of the organ.
What is gained by the largeness or prominence
of the globe of the eye, is width in the field of
vision. Such a capacity would be of no use to
an animal which was to seek its food in the
dark. The mole did not want to look about
it ; nor would a large advanced eye have been
easily defended from the annoyance to which the
life of the animal must constantly expose it.
How indeed was the mole, working its way
under ground, to guard its eyes at all ? In order
to meet this difficulty, the eyes are made scarcely
larger than the head of a corking pin ; and these
minute globules are sunk so deeply in the skull,
and lie so sheltered within the velvet of its
covering, as that any contraction of what may
be called the eye-brows, not only closes up the
apertures which lead to the eyes, but presents a
cushion, as it were, to any sharp or protruding
substance which might push against them. This
aperture, even in its ordinary state, is like a pin-
hole in a piece of velvet, scarcely pervious to
loose particles of earth.

Observe then, in this structure, that which we
call relation. There is no natural connexion be-
tween a small sunk eye and a shovel palmated
u 2

293

NATUEAL THEOLOGY.

foot. Palmated feet miglit have been joined with
goggle eyes ; or small eyes might have been
joined with feet of any other form. What was
it therefore which brought them together in the
mole ? That which brought together the barrel,
the chain and the fusee, in a watch, — design ;
and design in both cases, inferred from the rela-
tion which the parts bear to one another in the
prosecution of a common purpose. As hath
already been observed, there are different ways
of stating the relation, according as we set out
from a different part. In the instance before us,
we may either consider the shape of the feet, as
qualifying the animal for that mode of life and
inhabitation to which the structure of its eyes
confines it ; or we may consider the structure of
the eye, as the only one which would have suited
with the action to which the feet are adapted.
The relation is manifest, whichever of the parts
rdated we place first in the order of our con-
sideration. In a word ; the feet of the mole are
made for digging; the neck, nose, eyes, ears,
and skin, are peculiarly adapted to an under-
ground life ; and this is what I call relation.

COMPENSATION.

29:5

CHAPTER XVL

COMPENSATION.

Compensation is a species of relation. It is

ELEPHANT,

Dischargirg water from his proboscis.

relation when the clefecis of one part^ or of one

294

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

organ, are supplied by the structure of another
part, or of another organ. Thus,

I. The short unbending neck of the Elephant
is compensated by the length and flexibility of
his proboscis. He could not have reached the
ground without it ; or, if it be supposed that he
might have fed upon the fruit, leaves, or branches
of trees, how was he to drink ? Should it be
asked. Why is the elephant^s neck so short ? it
may be answered, that the weight of a head so
heavy could not have been supported at the end
of a longer lever. To a form, therefore, in some
respects necessary, but in some respects also
inadequate to the occasion of the animal, a
supplement is added, which exactly makes up
the deflciency under which he laboured.

If it be suggested that this proboscis may
have been produced, in a long course of genera-
tions, by the constant endeavour of the elephant
to thrust out his nose (which is an hypothesis
by which it has been attempted to account for
the forms of animated nature), I would ask.
How was the animal to subsist in the mean-
time, during the process, until this prolongation
of snout were completed ? What was to be-
2ome of the individual whilst the species was
perfecting ?

Our business at present is, simply to point out

COMPENSATION.

295

the relation which this organ bears to the peculiar
figure of the animal to which it belongs^ and to
its mode of obtaining food to supply its bulky
frame ; which is not only by browsing on grass,
but also on the foliage of trees. And herein
all things correspond. The necessity of the
elephant^s proboscis arises from the shortness of
his neck ; the shortness of the neck is rendered
necessary by the weight of the head. Were
we to enter into an examination of the structure
and anatomy of the proboscis itself, we should
see in it one of the most curious of all ex-
amples of animal mechanism. It is tubular,
endowed with enormous muscular power,
and with the most delicate sensitiveness at its
extremity. Its possessor can, with it, gather
its food, rend large branches of trees, or, with
its delicate finger-like end, pick up a straw or a
sixpence. It is the hand by which food and
drink are conveyed to the mouth, and the pump
with which it can syringe its huge body : it is
also a weapon of defence, wherewith it can crush,
in its powerful grasp, whatever it seizes, or hurl
an enemy to the ground, to be gored with its
long tusks, or trampled to death beneath its
ponderous feet. These properties of the same
organ, taken together, exhibit a specimen, not
only of design (which is attested by the ad-

396

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

vantage)^ but of consummate art, and, as I
may say, of elaborate preparation, in accom-
plishing that design.

II. The hook in the wing of a Bat is strictly a

THE VAMPIRE BAT OF JAVA {Pteropud J acanictis)^
Hanging by its hooked thumbs from a branch.

mechanical, and also a compensating contrivance.
At the angle of its wing, attached to its short
thumb, there is a bent nail or claw, exactly in the
form of a hook, by which the bat attaches itself to

COMPENSATION.

297

the sides of rocks, caves, and buildings, laying hold
of crevices, joinings, chinks and roughnesses.
It hooks itself by this claw ; remains suspended
by this hold ; takes its flight from this position :
which operations compensate for the inaptitude

THE CRAKJB.

of its legs and feet for standing or walking.
These inabilities are made up to her by the
contrivance in her wing ; and in placing a claw
on that part, the Creator has deviated from the
analogy observed in winged animals ; and has

298

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

thus supplied her, so to speak, with the means of
roosting in safety.

III. The Crane-Kmdi are to live and seek their
food amongst the waters ; yet, having no web-
feet, are incapable of swimming. To make up
for this deficiency, they are furnished with long
legs for wading, or long bills for groping; or
usually with both. This is compensation. But
I think the true reflection upon the present
instance is, how every part of nature is tenanted
by appropriate inhabitants. Not only is the
surface of deep waters peopled by numerous
tribes of birds that swim, but marshes and
shallow pools are furnished with hardly less
numerous tribes of birds that wade.

IV. The tongues of Birds are not constructed
as organs of taste, which sense in this class is
imperfectly developed; but they are specially
employed in obtaining and preparing their food
for swallowing. For this purpose the tongue is
supported by two small bones extending upward
from the hyoid, and possesses a thick horny
covering. In the parrot it can be opposed to the
hooked upper mandible, as our thumb is to the
fingers : in birds which feed on honey the tip of
the tongue is provided with a filamentous tuft,
like a camel-hair brush, by which it gathers ita
food : in th^ woodpecker it is prolonged into a

COMPENSATION.

299

sharp lance, wherewith to reach and pierce its
prey, — an arrangement which is aided by the
viseid saliva which is poured out beneath the
point of the tongue. The parrot^s beak is not

THl. COKMOK PARROT.

adapted for picking up grain, but it is strong
enought to crush hard substances, and hooked to
help it to climb.

V. The Spider^ s weh is a compensating contriv-
ance. The spider lives upon flies, without wings

800

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

to pursue them : a case one would have thought
of great difficulty, yet provided for, and pro-
vided for by a resource which no stratag'em, no

Very greatly magnified, shov ing the nunaber of lenses in each eye-
ball. On one side a portion of the lens s has been removed, to show
their depth and prism-like shape.

effort of the animal, could have produced, had
not both its external and internal structure been
specifically adapted to the operation.

VI, In many species of insects the eye is^

COMPENSATION.

301

fixed^ and consequently without the power of
turning the pupil to the object. This great
defect is^ however, perfectly compensated ; and
by a mechanism which we should not suspect.
The eye is a multiplying glass, with a lens
looking in every direction and catching every
object. By which means, although the orb
of the eye be stationary, the field of vision is as
ample as that of other animals, and is com-

EYES OF A BEE. SECTION OF AN INSECT’s EYE,

Showing the nerve.

manded on every side. When this lattice-work
was first observed, the multiplicity and minute-
ness of the surfaces must have added to the
surprise of the discovery. In the common house-
fly there are as many as 4000 ; and in butterflies
as many as 17,000 have been counted ; and each
hexagonal facet is a perfect eye, with its par-
ticular cornea, lens, iris, and pupil.

VII. In the chameleon, instead of there being

302

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

two eyelids, the eye is covered by an eyelid with
a hole in it. This singular structure appears to

compensatory y and to answer to some other
singularities in the shape of the animal. The
neck of the chameleon is inflexible. To make
up for this^ the eye is so prominent as that
more than half of the ball stands out of the
head ; by means of which extraordinary pro-
jection, the pupil of the eye can be carried by
the muscles in every direction, and each eye
separately is capable of being pointed towards
any object. But then, so unusual an exposure
of the globe of the eye requires, for its lubricity
and defence, a more than ordinary protection
of eyelid, as well as a more than ordinary
supply of moisture ; yet the motion of an eye-
lid formed according to the common construc-
tion, would be impeded, as it should seem, by
the convexity of the organ. The aperture in
the lid meets this difficulty. It enables the
animal to keep the principal part of the surface
of the eye under cover, and to preserve it in a
due state of humidity by the movement of the
eye itself.

VIII. But the works of the Deity are known
by expedients. Where we should look for abso-
lute destitution; where we can reckon up nothing
but wants ; some contrivance always comes in to

COMPENSATION.

303

supply the privation. A Snails without wings,
feet, or thread, climbs up the stalks of plants, by
the sole aid of a viscid humour discharged from
her skin. She adheres to the stems, leaves, and
fruits of plants, by means of a sticking-plaster.
A fly can walk on the ceiling in virtue of its
having suckers in its feet. A mussel^ which
might seem, by its helplessness, to lie at the
mercy of every wave that went over it, has
the singular power of spinning strong tendinous
threads, by which she moors her shell to rocks
and timbers. A cockle^ on the contrary, by means
of its stiff foot, works for itself a shelter in the
sand. The provisions of nature extend to cases
the most desperate. A Lobster has in its constitu-
tion a difficulty so great, that one could hardly
conjecture beforehand how nature would dispose
of it. In most animals, the skin grows with their
growth. If, instead of a soft skin, there be a
shell, still it admits of a gradual enlargement.
If the shell, as in the tortoise, consist of severa/
pieces, the accession of substance is made at the
sutures. Bivalve shells grow bigger by receiving
an accretion at their edge j it is the same with
spiral shells at their mouth. The simplicity of
their form admits of this. But the lobsteris shell
being applied to the limbs of the body, as well as
to the body itself, being in fact the levers on

304

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

which the muscles act^ and also a protecting
covering, allows not of either of the modes of
growth which are observed to take place in
other shells. Its hardness resists expansion ;
and its complexity renders it incapable of increas-
ing its size by addition of substance to its edge.
How then was the growth of the lobster to be
provided for? Was room to be made for it in
the old shell, or was it to be successively fitted
with new ones ? If a change of shell became
necessary, how was the lobster to extricate
himself from his present confinement ? how was
he to uncase his buckler, or draw his legs out of
his boots ? The process has been observed to
take place in the following way. At certain
seasons, usually the autumn, the animal retires,
and its shell becomes loosened, a soft cover-
ing being developed beneath the old shell.
When the shell has thus become loose upon the
body, the animal makes many efforts, and by a
tremulous, spasmodic motion, casts it off, and
subsequently withdraws its limbs from their
casing. In this state, the liberated but defence-
less fish retires into holes in the rock. Then a
fresh concretion upon the surface, i.e. a new shell,
is formed on the soft covering, adapted in every
part to the increasing dimensions of the animal.
This wonderful mutation is repeated every year.

COMPENSATION.

305

The shells of the Crustacea are very brittle^
and therefore liable to fracture from accidental
collision with hard substances. When a limb
is thus injured, the means of repair which exist
in a living bone are absent. This defect is
compensated for by a remarkable provision t
the lobster, for example, casts off a maimed and
useless member, which is replaced by the gradual
production of a new limb in its place. This act
of self-mutilation appears to be voluntary.

If there be imputed defects without compensa-
tion, I should suspect that they were defects
only in appearance. Thus, the body of the Sloth
has often been reproached for the slowness of its
'motions, which has been attributed to an im-
perfection in the formation of its limbs. But,
as already remarked, the structure of the animal
is adapted to its habits ; and the great arteries
of its limbs have a remarkable arrangement,
subdividing and reuniting, which is evidently
associated with its long-continued efforts in
clinging to the branches on which it feeds.

Or there may be cases in which a defect is
artificial, and compensated by the very cause
which produces it. Thus the Sheep, in the
domesticated state in which we see it, is destitute
of the ordinary means of defence or escape ; is
incapable either of resistance or flight. But this

X

806

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

is not SO with the wild animal. The natural
sheep is swift and active : and if it lose these
qualities when it comes under the subjection of
man^ the loss is compensated by his protection.
Perhaps there is no species of quaduped what-
ever which suffers so little as this does from
the depredation of animals of prey.

For the sake of making our meaning better
understood, we have considered this business of
compensation under certain particularities of
constitution, in which it appears to be most con-
spicuous. This view of the subject necessarily
limits the instances to single species of animals.
But there are compensations, perhaps not less
certain, which extend over large classes, and to
large portions of living nature.

I. In the matter of clothing, for example, the
absence of hair or fur is compensated for by the
thickness of the cuticle, a scaly armour, or spines.
In the warm-blooded whale a remarkable pro-
vision exists for preserving its temperature, even
in arctic seas, in the enormous accumulation of
fat beneath the skin.

II. In quadrupeds, the deficiency of certain
teeth is usually accompanied by the faculty of
rumination. The sheep, deer, and ox tribe, are
without fore-teeth in the upper jaw. These
ruminate. The horse and ass are furnished with

COMPENSATION.

807

teeth in the up^er jaw^ and do not ruminate.
In the former class, the grass and hay descend
into the stomach nearly in the state in which
they are cropped from the pasture, or gathered
from the bundle. In the paunch, or first stomach,
they are softened by maceration. Thus softened
and rendered tender, they are returned a second
time to the action of the mouth, where the
grinding teeth complete at their leisure the
trituration which is necessary, but which was
before left imperfect. I say, the trituration which
is necessary; for it appears that the gastric fluid
has an imperfect action in digesting plants,
unless they have been previously masticated and
mixed with saliva; but that when once vege-
tables are reduced to pieces by mastication, the
fluid then exerts upon them its specific and
complete operation. Its first efiect is to soften
them, and to destroy their natural consistency ;
it then goes on to dissolve them ; not sparing
even the toughest parts, such as the fibres of
the leaves.

I think it very probable, that the gratification
also of the animal is renewed and prolonged by
this faculty. Sheep, deer, and oxen, appear to
be in a state of enjoyment whilst they are
chewing the cud. It is then, perhaps, that they
best relish their food.

808

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

III. In birds, the compensation is still more
striking. They have no teeth at all. What have
they then to make up for this severe want ? I
speak of granivorous and herbivorous birds; such
as common fowls, turkeys, ducks, geese, pigeons,
&c. for it is concerning these alone that the
question need be asked. All these are furnished
with a peculiar and most powerful muscle, called
the gizzard ; the inner coat of which is fitted up
with hard, rough plaits, which, by a strong
friction against one another, break and grind
the hard aliment as effectually, and by the same
mechanical action, as a coffee-mill would do. It
has been proved by the most correct experiments,
that the gastric juice of these birds will not
operate upon the entire grain ; not even when
softened by water or macerated in the crop.
Therefore, without a grinding machine within
its body, without the trituration of the gizzard,
a chicken would have starved upon a heap of
corn. Yet why should a bill and a gizzard go
together ? Why should a gizzard never be found
where there are teeth ?

Nor does the gizzard belong to birds as such.
A gizzard is not found in birds of prey. Their
food requires not to be ground down in a mill.
The compensatory contrivance goes no further
than the necessity. In both classes of birds, how-

COMPENSATION.

309

ever^ the digestive organ within the body bears
a strict and mechanical relation to the external
instruments for procuring food. The soft mem-
branous stomach accompanies a hooked^ notched
beak; short muscular legs; strongs sharp, crooked
talons : the cartilaginous stomach attends that
conformation of bill and toes, which restrains the
bird to the picking of seeds, or the cropping of
plants.

IV. But to proceed with our compensations. —
A very numerous and comprehensive tribe of
terrestrial animals are entirely without feet; yet
locomotive ; and in a very considerable degree
swift in their motion. How is the want of feet
compensated ? It is done by the disposition of
the muscles and fibres of the trunk ; and this
zig-zag movement is aided in syiahes by the
arrangement of their scaly covering, and the
wonderful mobility of their ball-and-socket
jointed vertebrae and ribs. In consequence of
the just collocation, and by means of the joint
action of longitudinal and annular fibres, that
is to say, of strings and rings, the body and
train of worms are capable of being recipro-
cally shortened and lengthened, drawn up
and stretched out. The result of this action
is a progressive, and, in some cases, a rapid
movement of the whole body, in any direction

310

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

to which the will of the animal determines it.
The meanest creature is a collection of wonders.
The play of the rings in an earthworm^ as it
crawls; the undulatory motion propagated along
the body ; the beards or prickles with which the
annuli are armed^ and which the animal can
either shut up close to its body, or let out to
lay hold of the roughness of the surface upon
which it creeps ; and the power arising from all
t hese, of changing its place and position, affords,
when compared with the provisions for motion in
other animals, proofs of new and appropriate
mechanism. Suppose that we had never seen an
animal move upon the ground without feet, and
that the problem was, muscular action, i. e. reci-
procal contraction and relaxation being given,
to describe how such an animal might be con-
structed, capable of voluntarily changing place.
Something, perhaps, like the organization of
reptiles might have been hit upon by the
ingenuity of an artist; or might have been
exhibited in an automaton, by the combination
of springs, spiral wires, and ringlets ; but to the
solution of the problem would not be denied,
surely, the praise of invention and of successful
thought : least of all could it ever be questioned,
whether intelligence had been employed about it
or not.

RELATION OF ANIMATED BODIES^ ETC. 311

CHAPTER XVIL

THE RELATION OF ANIMATED BODIES TO INANIMATE
NATURE.

We have already considered relation, and under
different views ; but it was the relation of parts
to parts^ of the parts of an animal to other parts
of the same animal, or of another individual of
the same species.

But the bodies of animals hold, in their con-
stitution and properties, a close and important re-
lation to natures altogether external to their own ;
to inanimate substances, and to the specific,
qualities of these, e. g. they hold a strict relation
to the medium by which they are surrounded.

I. Can it be doubted, whether the wings of
birds bear a relation to air, and \}cl^ fins of fish to
water? They are instruments of motion, severally
suited to the properties of the medium in which
the motion is to be performed : which properties
are different. Was not this difference contem-
plated, when the instruments were differently
constituted ? ^

812

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

II. The structure of the animal ear depends for
its use not simply upon being surrounded by a
fluid, but upon the specific nature of that fluid.
Every fluid would not serve; its particles must
repel one another; it must form an elastic
medium : for it is by the successive pulses of
suc/i a medium, that the undulations excited by
the sounding body are carried to the organ ;
that a communication is formed between the
object and the sense ; which must be done before
the internal machinery of the ear^ subtile as it
is, can act at all.

III. The organs of voice and respiration are,
no less than the ear, indebted for the success of
their operation to the peculiar qualities of the
fluid in which the animal is immersed. They
iherefore are constituted upon the supposition
of such a fluid, i.e. of a fluid with particular
properties, being always present. Change the
properties of the fluid, and the organ cannot act;
change the organ, and the properties of the
fluid would be lost. The structure therefore of
our organs, and the properties of our atmo-
sphere, are made for one another. Nor does it
alter the relation, whether you allege the organ
to be made for the element (which seems the most
natural way of considering it), or the element as
prepared for the organ.

RELATION OF ANIMATED BODIES^ ETC. 313

IV. But there is another medium with which
we have to do ; with properties of its own ; with
laws of acting, and of being acted upon, totally
different from those of air and water ; and that
is the medium through which light is propa-
gated. To this new, this singular element ; to
qualities perfectly peculiar, perfectly distinct and
remote from the qualities of any other substance
with which we are acquainted ; an organ is
adapted, an instrument is correctly adjusted, not
less peculiar amongst the parts of the body, not
less singular in its form and in the substance of
which it is composed, not less remote from the
materials, the model, and the analogy of any
other part of the animal frame, than the element
to which it relates is specific amidst the sub-
stances with which we converse. If this does
not prove appropriation, I desire to know what
would prove it.

Yet the motion of this element which we
call light, and the organ of vision, however
related in their office and use, have no con-
nexion whatever in their original. The action
of ray of light upon the surfaces of animals
has no tendency to breed eyes in their heads.
The sun might shine for ever upon living
bodies without the smallest approach towards
producing the sense of sight. On the other

314

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

hand also^ the animal eye does not generate or
emit light.

V. Throughout the universe there is a wonder-
ful proportioning of one thing to another. The
size of animals, of the human animal especially,
when considered with respect to other animals,
or to the plants which grow around him, is
such, as a regard to his conveniency would have
pointed out. A giant or a pigmy could not
have milked goats, reaped corn, or mowed grass ;
we may add, could not have rode a horse, trained
a vine, shorn a sheep ; with the same bodily ease as
we do, if at all. A pigmy would have been lost
amongst rushes, or carried off by birds of prey.

VI. Again (and which includes a vast variety
of particulars, and those of the greatest impor-
tance) ; how close is the suitableness of the earth
and sea to their several inhabitants ; and of these
inhabitants, to the places of their appointed
residence !

Take the earth as it is ; and consider the cor-
respondency of the powers of its inhabitants
with the properties and condition of the soil
which they tread. Take the inhabitants as they
are ; and consider the substances which the
earth yields for their use. They can scratch
its surface, and its surface supplies all which
they want. This is the length of their faculties ;

RELATION OE ANIMATED BODIES^ ETC. 315

and such is the constitution of the globe^ and
their own^ that this is sufficient for all their
occasions.

When we pass from the earth to the sea^ from
land to water^ we pass through a great change ;
but an adequate change accompanies us^ of ani-
mal forms and functions^ of animal capacities
and wants ; so that correspondency remains.
The earth in its nature is very different from
the sea, and the sea from the earth; but one
accords with its inhabitants as exactly as the
other.

VII. The last relation of this kind which I
shall mention, is that over the greater part
of the earth of sleep to night; and it ap-
pears to me to be a relation which was
expressly intended.' Two points are manifest;
first, that the animal frame requires sleep ;
secondly, that night brings with it a silence
and a cessation of activity, which allows of
sleep being taken without interruption, and
without loss. Animal existence is made up of
action and slumber ; nature has provided a
season for each. An animal which stood not in
need of rest would always live in day-light.
An animal which, though made for action, and
delighting in action, must have its strength
repaired by sleep, meets by its constitution the

316

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

returns of day and night. In the human species,
for instance, were the bustle, the labour, the
motion of life upheld by the constant presence
of light, sleep could not be enjoyed without
being disturbed by noise, and without expense
of that time which the eagerness of private
interest would not contentedly resign. It is
happy therefore for this part of the creation, I
mean that it is conformable to the frame
and wants of their constitution, that nature,
by the very disposition of her elements, has
commanded, as it were, and imposed upon
them ov3r the largest portion of the globe
at moderate intervals, a general intermission
of their toils, their occupations, and pursuits.

But it is not for man, either solely or princi-
pally, that night is made. Inferior, but less
perverted natures taste its solace, and expect its
return with greater exactness and advantage
than he does. I have often observed, and never
observed but to admire, the satisfaction no less
than the regularity, with which the greatest
part of the irrational world yield to this soft
necessity, this grateful vicissitude ; how com-
fortably the birds of the air, for example, address
themselves to the repose of the evening; with
what alertness they resume the activity of the

RELATION OF ANIMATED BODIES^ ETC. 317

Nor does it disturb our argument to confess,
that certain speci( s of animals are in motion
during the night, anl at rest in the day. With
respect even to them, it is still true, that there
is a change of condition in the animal, and
an external change corresponding with dt.
There is still the relation, though inverted.
The fact is, that the repose of other animals sets
these at liberty, and invites them to their food
or their sport.

If the relation of sleep to nighty and in some
instances its converse, be real, we cannot reflect
without amazement upon the extent to which it
carries^us. Day and night are things close to
us ; the change applies immediately to our sensa-
tions; of all the phenomena of nature, it is the
most obvious and the most familiar to our expe-
rience ; but in its cause, it belongs to the great
motions which are ' passing in the heavens.
Whilst the earth glides round her axis, she minis-
ters to the alternate necessities of the animals
dwelling upon her surface, at the same time that
she obeys the influence of those attractions
which regulate the order of many thousand
worlds. The relation, therefore, of sleep to night,
is the relation of the inhabitants of the earth to
the rotation of their globe ; probably it is more ;
it is a relation to the system, of which that globe

318

NATUEAL THEOLOGY.

is a part ; and still further, to the congregation
of systems, of which theirs is only one. If this
account be true, it connects the meanest indi-
vidual with the universe itself ; a chicken roost-
ing upon its perch, with the spheres revolving in
the firmament.

VIII. But if any one object to our represent-
ation, that the succession of day and night, or
the rotation of the earth upon which it depends,
is not resolvable into central attraction, we will
refer him to that which certainly is,~to the
change of the seasons. Now the constitution of
animals, susceptible of torpor, bears a relation to
winter, similar to that which sleep ])ears to
night. Against not only the cold, but the want
of food which the approach of winter induces,
the Preserver of the world has provided in
many animals by migration, in many others by
torpor. As one example *out of a thousand ; the
bat, if it did not sleep through the winter, must
have starved, as the moths and flying insects
upon which it feeds disappear. But the transi-
tion from summer to winter carries us into the
very midst of physical astronomy, that is to say,
into the midst of those laws which govern the
solar system at least, and probably all the
heavenly bodies.

INSTINCTS.

319

CHAPTER XVIII.

INSTINCTS.

The order may not be very obvious^ by which
I place instincts next to relations. But I consider
them as a species of relation. They contribute^
along with the animal organization^ to a joint
effect^ in which view they are related to that or-
ganization. In many cases they refer from one
animal to another animal ; and, when this is the
case, become strictly relations in a second point
of view.

An INSTINCT is a propensity prior to expe-
rience, and independent of instruction. We
contend that it is by instinct that the sexes of
animals seek each other ; that animals cherish
their oflFspring ; that the young quadruped is
directed to the teat of its dam ; that birds build
their nests, and brood with so much patience
upon their eggs ; that insects which do not sit
upon their eggs, deposit them in those particu-
lar situations in which the young, when hatched,
find their appropriate food ; that it is instinct

820

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

which carries the salmon, and some other fish,
out of the sea into rivers, for the pui^pose of
shedding their spawn in fresh water.

We may select out of this catalogue the
incubation of eggs. I entertain no doubt, but
that a couple of sparrows, hatched in an oven,
and kept separate from the rest of their species,
would proceed as other sparrows do, in every
office which related to the production and
preservation of their brood. Assuming this
fact, the thing is inexplicable upon any other
hypothesis than that of an instinct impressed
upon the constitution of the animal. For, first,
what should induce the female bird to prepare
a nest before she lays her eggs ? It is in vain to
suppose her to be possessed of the faculty of
reasoning ; for no reasoning will reach the case. '
The fulness or distension which she might feel
in a particular part of her body, from the
growth and solidity of the egg within her,
could not possibly inform her that she was
about to produce something, which, when
produced, was to be preserved and taken care
of. Prior to experience there was nothing to
lead to this inference, or to this suspicion. The
analogy was all against it ; for, in every other
instance, what issued from the body was cast
out and rejected.

INSTINCTS

821

But, secondly, let us suppose the egg to be
produced into day ; how should birds know that
their eggs contain their young? There is
nothing, either in the aspect or in the internal
composition of an egg, which could lead even
the most daring imagination to conjecture, that
it was hereafter to turn out from under its shell
a living perfect bird. The form of the egg
bears not the rudiments of a resemblance to
that of the bird. Inspecting its contents, we
find still less reason, if possible, to look for the
result which actually takes place. If we should
go so far, as, from the appearance of order and
distinction in the disposition of the liquid sub-
stances which we noticed in the egg, to guess
that it might be designed for the abode and
nutriment of an animal (which would be a very
bold hypothesis), we should expect a tadpole
dabbling in the slime, much rather than a dry
winged, feathered creature ; a compound of parts
and properties impossible to be used in a state
of confinement, in the egg, and bearing no con-
ceivable relation, either in quality or material,
to anything observed in it. From the white of
an egg, would any one look for the feathers of
a goldfinch ? or expect, from a simple uniform
mucilage, the most complicated of all machines,
the most diversified of all collections of sub-

Y

32a

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

stances P Nor would the process of incubation,
for some time at least, lead us to suspect the
event. Who that saw red streaks shooting in
the fine membrane which divides the white
Irom the yolk, would suppose that these were
about to become bones and limbs ? Who, that
espied the minute pulsating point which appears
after two days of incubation, could anticipate
that it was so soon to become a heart, the
centre of a complete circulation ? It is diflSicult
to strip the mind of its experience. It is difficult
to resuscitate surprise, when familiarity has
once laid the sentiment asleep. But could we
forget all that we know, and which our sparrows
never knew, about oviparous generation ; could
we divest ourselves of every information, but
what we derived from reasoning upon the
appearances or quality discovered in the objects
presented to us, I am convinced that Harlequin,
coming out of an egg upon the stage, is not
more astonishing to a child, than the hatching
Oi a chicken both would be, and ought to be, to
a philosopher.

But admit the sparrow by some means to
know, that within that egg was concealed the
principle of a future bird ; from what chemist
was she to learn, that warmth was necessary to
bring it to maturity, or that the degree of

INSTINCTS.

3^5

warmth^ imparted by the temperature o£ her
own body^ was the degree required ?

To suppose, therefore^ that the female bird
acts in this process from a sagacity and reason
of her own, is to suppose her to arrive at con-
clusions which there are no premisses to justify.
If our sparrow, sitting upon her eggs, expects
young sparrows to come out of them, she forms,
I will venture to say, a wild and extravagant
expectation, in opposition to present appearances
and to probability. She must have penetrated
into the order of nature, further than any
faculties of ours will carry us ; and it hath been
w ell observed that this deep sagacity, if it be
sagacity, subsists in conjunction with great
stupidity, even in relation to the same subject.

A chemical operation, says Addison, could
not be followed wdth greater art or diligence,
than is seen in hatching a chicken ; yet k the
process carried on without the least glimmering
of thought or common sense. The hen will
'mistake a piece of chalk for an egg; is in-
sensible of the increase or diminution of their
number ; does not distinguish between her own
and those of another species ; is frightened
when her supposititious breed of ducklings take
the water.^^

But it will be said, that what reason could not
Y 2

324

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

do for the bird, observation, or instruction, or
tradition, might. Now, if it be true that a couple
of sparrows, brought up from the first in a state
of separation from all other birds, would build
their nest and brood upon their eggs, then there
is an end of this solution. What can be the
traditionary knowledge of a chicken hatched in
an oven ?

Of young birds, taken in their nests, a few
species breed when kept in cages ; and they which
do so build their nests nearly in the same man-
ner as in the wild state, and sit upon their eggs.
This is sufficient to prove an instinct, without
having recourse to experiments upon birds
hatched by artificial heat, and deprived from
their birth of all communication with their
species ; for we can hardly bring ourselves to
believe, that the parent bird informed her un-
fledged pupil of the history of her gestation, her
timely preparation of a nest, her exclusion of the
eggs, her long incubation, and of the jojTul
eruption at last of her expected offspring ; all
which the bird in the cage must have learnt in
her infancy, if we resolve her conduct into initia-
tion and instruction.

Unless we will rather suppose that she re-
members her own escape from the egg; had
attentively observed the conformation of the

INSTINCTS.

sa5

nest in which she was nurtured ; and had trea-
sured up her remarks for future imitation :
which is not only extremely improbable^ (for
who^ that sees a brood of callow birds in their
nest^ can believe that they are taking a plan of
their habitation ?) but leaves, unaccounted for,
one principal part of the difficulty, the prepara-
tion of the nest before the laying of the egg/^
This she could not gain from observation in her
infancy.

It is remarkable also, that the hen sits upon
eggs which she has laid without any communica-
tion with the male, and which are therefore
necessarily unfruitful ; that secret she is not let
into. Yet, if incubation had been a subject of
instruction or of tradition, it should seem that
this distinction would have formed part of the
lesson ; whereas the instinct of nature is calcu^
lated for a state of nature ; the exception here
alluded to taking place chiefly, if not solely,,
amongst domesticated fowls, in which nature is.
forced out of her course.

There is another case of oviparous economy,,
which is still less likely to be the effect of educa-
tion than it is even in birds, namely, that of
and butterflies^ which deposit their eggs on
the precise substance, that of a cabbage for ex-
ample, from which not the butterfly herself, but

326

NATUUAL THEOLOGY.

the caterpillar which is to issue from her egg,
draws its appropriate food. The butterfly cannot
taste the cabbage. Cabbage is no food for her ;
yet in the cabbage, not by chance, but studiously
and electively, she lays her eggs. There are,
amongst many other kinds, the willow-caterpillar
and the cabbage-caterpillar ; but we do not find
upon a willow the caterpillar which eats the
cabbage ; nor the converse : yet, occasionally
some caterpillars will change one plant for
another. This choice, as appears to me, cannot
in the butterfly proceed from instruction. She
had no teacher in her caterpillar state. She
never knew her parent. I do not see, therefore,
how knowledge acquired by experience, if it ever
were such, could be transmitted from one genera-
tion to another. There is no opportunity either
for instruction or imitation. The parent race is
gone before the new brood is hatched. And if it
be original reasoning in the butterfly, it is pro-
found reasoning indeed. She must remember her
caterpillar state, its tastes and habits ; of which
memory she shows no signs whatever. She must
conclude from analogy (for here her recollection
cannot serve her), that the little round body,
which drops from her abdomen, will at a future
period produce a living creature, not like herself,
but like the caterpillar which she remembers

INSTINCTS.

327

herself once to have been. Under the influence
of these reflections^ she goes about to make pro-
vision for an order of things^ which she concludes
will, some time or other, take place. And it is
to be observed that not a few out of many, but
that all butterflies argue thus ; all draw this
conclusion ; all act upon it.

But suppose the address and the selection and
the plan, which we perceive in the preparations
which many irrational animals make for their
young, to be traced to some probable origin ;
still there is left to be accounted for, that which
is the source and foundation of these phenomena,
that which sets the whole at work, the aropyi],
the parental affection, which I contend to be
inexplicable upon any other hypothesis than that
of instinct.

For we shall hardly, I imagine, in brutes,
refer their conduct towards their offspring to a
sense of duty, or of decency, a care of reputation,
a compliance with public manners, with public
laws, or with rules of life built upon a long
experience of their utility. And all attempts to
account for the parental affection from associa-
tion, I think, fail. With what is it associated?
Most immediately with the throes of parturition.
The more remote, but not less strong, association,
that which depends upon analogy, is all against

328 NATURAL THEOLOGY.

it. Everything else, which proceeds from the
body, is cast away and rejected. In birds, is it
the egg which the hen loves? or is it the expecta-
tion which she cherishes of a future progeny
that keeps her upon her nest ? What cause has
she to expect delight from her progeny ? Can
any rational answer be given to the question
why, prior to experience, the brooding hen should
look for pleasure from her chickens? It does
not, I think, appear that the cuckoo ever knows
her young ; yet, in her way, she is as careful in
making provision for them as any other bird.
She does not leave her egg in eveiy hole.

The salmon suffers no surmountable obstacle
to oppose her progress up the stream of fresh
rivers. And what does she do there ? She sheds
a spawn, which she immediately quits in order
to return to the sea ; and this issue of her body
she never afterwards recognizes in any shape
whatever. Where shall we find a motive for
her efforts and her perseverance ? Shall we seek
it in argumentation, or in instinct ? The violet
crab of Jamaica performs a fatiguing march of
some months^ continuance, from the mountains
to the sea-side. When she reaches the coast,
she casts her spawn into the open sea ; and sets
out upon her return home : thus also exemplify-
ing the remarkable faculty in animals generally.

INSTINCTS.

329

which is denied to man^ of directing themselves
towards their homes.

Moths and butterflies, as hath already been
observed, seek out for their eggs those precise
situations and substances in which the offspring
caterpillar will find its appropriate food. That
dear caterpillar the parent butterfly must never
see. There are no experiments to prove that she
would retain any knowledge of it^ if she did.
How shall we account for her conduct ? I do
not mean for her art and judgment in selecting'
and securing a maintenance for her young, but
for the impulse upon which she acts. What
should induce her to exert any art, or judgment,
or choice, about the matter ? The undisclosed
grub, the animal which she is destined not to
know, can hardly be the object of a particular
affection, if we deny the influence of instinct.
There is nothing, therefore, left to her, but
that of which her nature seems incapable, an
abstract anxiety for the general preservation of
the species ; a kind of patriotism ; a solicitude
lest the butterfly race should cease from the
creation.

More may, perhaps, be said in favour of the
cultivation of instinctive tendencies, or what
may be termed self-training under the guidance
of necessity, as exercising an important influence

330

NATURAL THEOLOGY,

in the development of those habits which excite
our wonder and admiration as matured instincts.
There can be no doubt that the cultivated exer-
cise of instinct in a given direction in the parent
often has an influence on the offspring; that
acquired qualities — or, more properly speaking,
the attainments dependent on the training of
natural instincts — may be inherited. But allow-
ing its full force to this explanation, it can
account only for the perfection of that which
originally existed as an endowment or gift, apart
from experience or inheritance ; and if such
gift imply a giver, the perfectibility of the
instinctive emotions must be regarded as an
endowment, evincing as much foresight in crea-
tion, as would have been manifested by their
original existence in a perfect state. At best,
such argument but carries us back a step in
tracing the connexion between the designer and
the design. Maternal instinct is as necessary
for the preservation of life as the sensation of
hunger ; and it is equally difficult to conceive
how either can be other than an original endow-
ment for a special purpose.

Lastly ; the principle of association will not
explain the discontinuance of the affection when
the young animal is grown up. Association,
operating in its usual way, would rather produce

INSTINCTS.

331

a contrary effect. The object would become
more necessary by habits of society ; whereas
birds and beasts^ after a certain time^ banish their
offspring ; disown their acquaintance ; seem to
have even no knowledge of the objects which so
lately engrossed the attention of their minds,
and occupied the industry and labour of their
bodies. This change, in different animals, takes
place at different distances of time from the
birth; but the time always corresponds with
the ability of the young animal to maintain
itself ; never anticipates it. In the sparrow
tribe, when it is perceived that the young brood
can fly and shift for themselves, then the parents
forsake them for ever ; and, though they con-
tinue to live together, pay them no more atten-
tion than they do to other birds in the same
flock. I believe the same thing is true generally
of gregarious quadrupeds.

In this part of the case, the variety of re-
sources, expedients, and materials, which animals
of the same species are said to have recourse to,
under different eircumstances, and when dif-
ferently supplied, makes nothing against the
doctrine of instincts. The thing which we want
to account for is the propensity. The propensity
being there it is probable enough that it may
put the animal upon different actions, according

332

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

to different exigencies. And this adaptation of
resources may look like the effect of art and
consideration, rather than of instinct ; but still
the propensity is instinctive. Each bird selects-
a position for its nest, adapted to the security of
its eggs, and the requirements of its young when
hatched.

Nor does parental affection accompany genera-
tion by any universal law of animal organization,,
if such a thing were intelligible. Some animals
cherish their progeny with the most ardent fond-
ness, and the most assiduous attention; others
entirely neglect them ; and this distinction always
meets the constitution of the young animal, with
respect to its wants and capacities. In many,
the parental care extends to the young animal ;
in others, as in oviparous fish, it is usually con-
fined to the egg, and even, as to that, to the
disposal of it in its proper element. Also, as
there is generation without parental affection, so
is there parental instinct, or what exactly re-
sembles it, without generation. In the bee tribe
the grub is nurtured neither by the father nor
the mother, but by the neutral bee. Probably
the case is the same with ants.

I am not ignorant of the theory which resolves
instinct into sensation ; which asserts that what
appears to have a view and relation to the future.

INSTINCTS.

333

is the result only of the present disposition of
the animaFs body, and of pleasure or pain ex-
perienced at the time. Thus the incubation of
eggs is accounted for by the pleasure which the
bird is supposed to receive from the pressure of
the smooth convex surface of the shells against
the abdomen, or by the relief which the mild
temperature of the egg may afford to the heat
of the lower part of the body, which is observed
at this time to be increased beyond its usual state.
This present gratification is the only motive
with the hen for sitting upon her nest ; the
hatching of the chickens is, with respect to her,
an accidental consequence. The affection of
viviparous animals for their young is, in like
manner, solved by the relief, and perhaps the
pleasure, which they receive from giving suck.
The young animaFs seeking, in so many instances,
the teat of its dam, is explained from its sense of
smell, which is attracted by the odour of milk.
The salmon^s urging its way up the stream of
fresh-water rivers, is attributed to some grati-
fication or refreshment which, in this particular
state of the fishes body, she receives from the
change of element. Now of this theory it may
be said, —

First, that of the cases which require solution,
there are few to which it can be applied with

334

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

tolerable probability; that there are none to which
it can be applied without strong objections^ fur-
nished by the circumstances of the case. The
attention of the cow to its calf^ and of the ewe
to its lamb^ appear to be prior to their sucking.
The attraction of the calf or lamb to the teat of
the dam is not explained by simply referring it
to the sense of smell. What made the scent of
milk so agreeable to the lamb^ that it should
follow it up with its nose, or seek with its mouth
the place from which it proceeded? No observa*
tion, no experience, no argument could teach
the new-dropped animal, that the substance from
which the scent issued was the material of its
food. It had never tasted milk before its birth.
None of the animals, which are not designed for
that nourishment, ever offer to suck or to seek
out any such food. What is the conclusion, but
that the sugescent parts of animals are fitted for
their use, and the knowledge of that use put into
them ?

We assert, secondly, that, even as to the cases
in which the hypothesis has the fairest claim to
consideration, it does not at all lessen the force of
the argument for intention and design. The
doctrine of instincts is that of appetencies, super-
added to the constition of an animal, for the
effectuating of a purpose beneficial to the species.

INSTINCTS.

335

The above-stated solution would derive these ap-
petencies from organization ; but then this organi-
zation is not less specifically^ not less precisely^
and^ therefore^ not less evidently, adapted to the
same ends^than the appetencies themselves would
be upon the old hypothesis. In this way of con-
sidering the subject, sensation supplies the place
of foresight ; but this is the effect of contrivance
on the part of the Creator. Let it be allowed,
for example, that the hen is induced to brood
upon her eggs by the enjoyment or relief, which,
in the heated state of her abdomen, she ex-
periences from the pressure of round smooth
surfaces, or from the application of a temperate
warmth. How comes this extraordinary heat
or itching, or call it what you will, which you
suppose to be the cause of the bird^s inclination,
to be felt, just at the time when the inclination
itself is wanted ; when it tallies so exactly with
the internal constitution of the egg, and with
the help which that constitution requires in
order to bring it to maturity ? In my opinion
this solution, if it be accepted as to the fact,
ought to increase, rather than otherwise, our
admiration of the contrivance. A gardener
lighting up his stoves, just when he wants to
force his fruit, and when his trees require the
heat, gives not a more certain evidence of design.

336

NATUEAL THEOLOGY.

So again ; when a male and female sparrow cpme
together, they do not meet to confer upon the
expediency of perpetuating their species. As an
abstract proposition, they care not the value of a
barley-corn whether the species be perpetuated
or not : they follow their sensations ; and all
those consequences ensue, w^hich the wisest
counsels could have dictated, which the most
solicitous care of futurity, which the most anxious
concern for the sparrow- world, could have pro-
duced. But how do these consequences ensue ?
The sensations, and the constitution upon which
they depend, are as manifestly directed to the
purpose which we see fulfilled by them ; and the
train of intermediate effects, as manifestly laid
and planned with a view to that purpose ; that
is to say, design is as completely evinced by the
phenomena, as it would be, even if we suppose
the operations to begin, or to be carried on,
from what some will allow to be alone properly
called instincts, that is, from desires directed to
a future end, and having no accomplishment or
ratification distinct from the attainment of that
end. ^

In a word : I should say to the patrons of this
opinion, Be it so : be it, that those actions of
animals which we refer to instinct are not gone
about with any view to their consequences, but

INSTINCTS.

33?

that they are attended in the animal with a
present gratification^ and are pursued for the
sake of that gratification alone ; what does all
this prove^ but that prospect ion ^ which must
be somewhere^ is not in the animal^ but in the
Creator !

How else can we explain, in hybernating
animals, the needful preparations and provisions
they make, as to place and circumstances, in
anticipation of the necessity of so doing ? Does
the bee know, by experience, that it cannot
gather food in winter? and why are the drones
slain before winter sets in, except to diminish the
number in the colony to be fed ?

In treating of the parental affection in brutes^
our business lies rather with the origin of the
principle, than with the effects and expressions of
it. Writers recount these with pleasure and ad«
miration. The conduct of many kinds of animals
towards their young has escaped no obsrever, no
historian of nature, How will they caress
them,^^ says Derham, ^^with their affectionate
notes ; lull and quiet them with their tender
parental voice ; put food into their mouths ;
cherish and keep them warm ; teach them to
pick, and eat, and gather food for themselves ;
and, in a word, perform the part of so many
nurseSj deputed by the Sovereign Lord and

338

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

Preserver of the world, to help such young and
shiftless creatures ! Neither ought it, under
this head, to be forgotten, how much the instinct
cosfs the animal which feels it; how much a
bird, for example, gives up, by sitting upon her
nest ; how repugnant it is to her organization,
her habits and her pleasures. An animal, formed
for liberty, submits to confinement in the very
season when everything invites her abroad :
what is more ; an animal delighting in motion,
made for motion, all whose motions are so easy
and so free, hardly a moment at other times at
rest, is, for many hours of many days together,
fixed to her nest, as close as if her limbs were
tied down by pins and wires. For my part 1
never see a bird in that situation, but I recog-
nize an invisible hand, detaining the contented
prisoner from her fields and groves, for the
purpose, as the event proves, the most worthy
of the sacrifice, the most important, the most
beneficial.

But the loss of liberty is not the whole of
what the procreant bird suffers. Harvey tells
us that he has often found the female wasted to
skin and bone by sitting upon her eggs.

One observation more, and I will dismiss the
subject. The pairing of birds, and the usual
non-pairing of beasts, forms a distinction between

INSTINCTS.

339

the two classes, which shows that the conjugal
instinct is modified with a reference to utility
founded in the condition of the offspring. In
quadrupeds the young animal draws its nutri-
ment from the body of the dam. The male
parent neither does, nor can contribute any part
to its early sustentation. In the winged race
the young bird is supplied by an importation of
food, to procure and bring home which, in a
suflScient quantity for the demand of a numerous
brood, requires the industry of both parents.
In this difference we see a reason for the
vagrant instinct of the quadruped, and for the
faithful love of the feathered mate.

340

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

CHAPTER XIX.

OF INSECTS.

We are not writing a system of natural history;
therefore we have not attended to the classes
into which the subjects of that science are
distributed. What we had to observe concern-
ing different species of animals fell easily^ for
the most part^ within the divisions which the
course of our argument led us to adopt. There
remain^ however^ some remarks upon the Insect
tribC; which could not properly be introduced
under any of these heads ; and which therefore
we have collected into a chapter by themselves.
And it may be here remarked that the word
insect is employed^ for this purpose^ in its
popular sense^ rather than in the restricted sense
to which it is limited in scientific classification.

The structure and uses of different parts of
Insects have been carefully investigated^ not-
withstanding their minuteness; and they abound

OF INSECTS.

341

with examples of every variety of adaptation,
appropriate to their modes of life and their well-
being.

I. The legs, which are six in number, are
usually provided with a pair of sharp, strong
booklets, by which they are enabled to cling

FOOT OP HOirSE-PLT.

Foot of House-fly, showing the sucker-flaps (5), and booklets (4).

or climb. In many, as the common house-
fly, in addition to a curved hook, each foot
has a pair of small suckers, by which they are
enabled to adhere to the ceiling in walking
thus inverted. In others these suckers are
very numerous. In leaping insects, such as
the cricket or flea, the hind legs are very long
and powerful : by suddenly straightening these
bent limbs, the flea can leap two hundred

342

NATURAL THEOLOGY,

times its own length. In the mole-cricket the
fore legs are the most developed, and their
extremities are broad, being adapted to work iu

THE STAG BEETLE,

Showing the true wings expanded in the act of flying, and the elytra
which cover them when folded.

an outward direction ; so that this insect readily
buries itself in the ground, as does the mole.

OF INSECTS.

US

from which it derives its name. Again, in
swimming insects, as the water-beetle, it is the
hinder limbs that are largest; and these are
expanded at their extremities and fringed with
hair, thus constituting admirable paddles or oars.
These instruments of propulsion in the water-
boatman enable it to row itself whilst on its
back, that it may more easily watch for its prey.

In the most perfect winged insects the wings
are four in number, and are very firmly attached
to the sides of the chest. In the carnivorous
dragon-fly, for example, these are very large and
of equal length, and so efficient, as organs of
flight, as to enable this beautiful insect to sustain
itself for hours together in the air, seeking its
prey, and to elude the pursuit of even rapid birds
which, in turn, prey on it. In butterflies these
wings are covered with minute scales, often of
brilliant and varied colours. In beetles, as the
common cockchafer, the front wings are hard
and horny cases.

Again, in some flying insects, as the common
house-fly, the back wings are replaced by a
rudimentary appendage, which seems to assist
the owner in poising itself in flight. In others
the front and back wings are unequal in size ;
but in all there is an evident design in these
variations, manifested in their relations to the

344

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

mouth and legs, and to the peculiar habits of
each different order.

Probably there is no more intelligible, as
there certainly is no more beautifully perfect
adaptation of structure to utility and the special
purpose for which it is designed, than the gauze-
like sails which constitute the wings of the
libellula, or dragon-fly. In lightness and
strength, and in consequent fitness for flight,
they excel the wings of birds. The numerous
filaments, or ribs, which traverse the delicate
membranous expansion in every direction to
afford support and to give it form, are really
delicate tubes ; and the sail itself originally
consists of two layers, between which this
tubular network is spread out. The rapidity of
movement of this beautiful mechanism surpasses
calculation ; yet it is equalled by the marvellous
control exercised in flight, and evinced by the
facility with which the insect turns in every
direction, even in its most rapid movements.

We may here mention, incidentally, a sin-
gular and beautiful provision, which attends the
birth of the gnat from its pupa stage of exist-
ence. The eggs of tliis insect are deposited on
the surface of water ; and here the larva becomes
converted into the pupa, which is enclosed in a
hard covering, and still floats on the wafer.

OF INSECTS.

345

But how is the winged gnat to escape from
this coffin, with outstretched wings fit for
flight? For this purpose the pupa-case is
raised above the surface of the water, and then
dries and is split open lengthwise, so as to form
a perfect little boat, in which the future denizen
of the air floats securely, till it has stretched its
untried legs and dried its limp sails in security ;
and then it takes leave of its frail bark for ever.
These forsaken cases may be often seen on the
surface of ponds or water-tubs.

II. But the different habits of insects, espe-
cially in respect of their food, demand a
corresponding variation in the mouth, the con-
struction of which is adapted accordingly ;
in some presenting formidable weapons of
destruction, in others a delicate but no less
mechanical arrangement for sucking the blood
of their victims, or for imbibing the nectar
with which the flowers supply them. The
double jaws or mandibles of the former move
horizontally, and are armed in some with
strong tooth-like prominences, or with pointed
fangs, and are sharpened in others : and
with these instruments some cut or grind
their food, and others remorselessly destroy
their prey : they are used also, as by the bee
und wasp, for constructing their homes. In

346

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

fact, there is no use, associated with their
habits, to which these jaws cannot be applied ;
and in their employment the insect is aided by

HEAD OP FLEA.

Head of a Flea, showing its razor-like lances (r r) and sheaths (# »),
on each side of the elongated tongue.

its delicate palpi^ or feelers, which are attached
to the jaws.

The sucking mouth, in many insects, is
supplied with perforating instruments, like
needles or fine lancets, such as the vegetable-
feeding aphis, and gnat or flea. Yet these curi-
ous weapons are but variations, in construction.

OF INSECTS.

347

of the same type of mouth as the cutting and
grinding apparatus of the beetle or dragon-fly.
Indeed, the same may be said of the still more
remarkable representative of the jaws, which is
found in the butterfly. The proboscis, as it is
often termed, of this insect is a long sucking-
pump, by which it is enabled to reach and draw
up its fluid food from the cups of flowers. The

PROBOSCIS OF BUTTRRFLY.

structure of this pump is most intricate and
beautiful, consisting of two delicate filaments,
like the double lash of a whip, locked together by
minute teeth, and moved by spirally arranged
muscles ; the whole forming a tube, through
which the food is imbibed. Yet mark the
economy of nature : these wanderers from flower
to flower, whilst pursuing their instinctive im-
pulse to gather food, perform the important

348

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

office of scattering the pollen whereby the plants
are fertilized.

III. The stings of insects^ though for a diffe-
rent purpose^ are, in their structure, not unlike
the piercer. The sharpness to which the point
in all of them is wrought ; the temper and
firmness of the substance of which it is com-
posed ; the strength of the muscles by which it

S'^NG OF THE BEE.

« represents the darts ; 6, the poison-bag, c, the sheath ; d, a single dart.

is darted out, compared with the smallness and
weakness of the insect, and with the soft and
friable texture of the rest of the body, are pro-
perties of the sting to be noticed, and not a
little to be admired. The sting of a hee will
pierce through a goat-skin glove. It penetrates
the human flesh more readily than the finest
point of a needle. The action of the sting
affords an example of the union of chemistry

OF INSECTS.

34&

and mechanism, such as^ if it be not a proof of
contrivance^ nothing is. Firsts as to the
chemistry ; how highly concentrated must be
the venom i which, in so small a quantity, can
produce such powerful eflPects ! And in the bee
we may observe that this venom is made from
honey, the only food of the insect, but the last
material from which I should have expected
that an exalted poison could, by any process or
digestion whatsoever, have been prepared. In
the next place, with respect to the mechanism,
the sting is not a simple but a compound
instrument. The visible sting is in strictness
only a horny sheath ; for, near to the extremity
may be perceived by the microscope two minute
orifices, from which orifices, in the act of stinging^
and as it should seem after the point of the main
sting has buried itself in the flesh, are launched
out two sharp stylets, which may be called the
true or proper stings, as being those along a
groove in which the poison is infused into the
puncture already made by the exterior sting.
I have said, that chemistry and mechanism are
here united: by which observation I meant,
that all this machinery would have been useless,
telum imbelle, if a supply of poison, intense in
quality, in proportion to the smallness of the
drop, had not been furnished to it by the chemi-

350

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

cal elaboration which was carried on in the
insect^s body; and that on the other hand,
the poison, the result of this process, could not
have attained its effect, or reached its enemy,
if, when it was collected at the extremity of
the abdomen, it had not found there a machinery
fitted to conduct it to the external situations
in which it was to operate, viz. an awl to bore a
hole, and a syringe to inject the fluid. Yet
these attributes, though combined in their
action, are independent in their origin. The
venom does not breed the sting ; nor does the
sting concoct the venom.

IV. In many species of the butterfly, the pro-
boscis, when not in use, is coiled up like a watch-
spring. In the bee, the proboscis serves the office
of the mouth, the insect having no other : and
how much better adapted it is, than any other
form of mouth would be, for the collecting of the
proper nourishment of the animal, is sufiiciently
evident. The food of the bee is the nectar of
flowers ; a drop of syrup, lodged deep in the
bottom of the corolla, in the recesses of the
petals, or down the neck of a monopetalous
glove. Into these cells the bee thrusts its
long narrow pump, through the cavity of
which it laps and sucks up this precious
fluid, inaccessible to every other approach.

OF INSECTS.

351

It is observable also, that the plant is not the
worse for what the bee does to it; indeed it
provides for its fructification by the scattering
of its pollen. The harmless plunderer rifles the
sweets, but leaves the flower uninjured. The
ringlets of which the proboscis of the bee is
composed, the muscles by which it is extended
and contracted, form so many microscopical
wonders. The agility also with which it is
moved can hardly fail to excite admiration.
But it is enough for our purpose to observe, in
general, the suitableness of the structure to the
use, of the means to the end, and especially the
wisdom by which nature has departed from its
most general analogy (for animals being fur-
nished with mouths are such), when the purpose
could be better answered by the deviation.

We have seen the analogy that exists between
the strong-jawed insects and the graminivorous
and carnivorous mammalia, in the form and
strength of the weapons with which they grind
their food or destroy their prey : we may also
notice another resemblance, and for the same
purpose in each, between these insects and birds
which feed on grain : the former possess a giz-
zard, of similar construction to the latter, and
placed in close connexion with the stomach.

The sense of Touch must be, and no doubt is.

352

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

peculiarly delicate in insects. We have already
noticed the palpi, attached to the jaws ; but the
antenncB seem to be the most sensitive feelers
possessed by them ; and it seems probable also
that the vibratory sensations conveyed by them
are appreciated as sound is by the special organ
of hearing. Insects obviously smelly for they
are guided to their food by this sense ; but the
possession of the organ cannot be satisfactorily
determined. Every one must have noticed how
rapidly carrion flies accumulate upon their
scented meal.

The circulation and purification of the blood
in insects is not of that complex character that
distinguishes the higher classes of animals : the
movement of the blood is undulatory ; and air
to purify it is admitted by numerous tubes or
channels to every part of the body : and the
apertures or spiracles of these tracheae are care-
fully protected from the intrusion of extraneous
bodies by minute hairs. By this arrangement
the body of the insect is materially lightened,
and the blood is freely oxygenated.

V. The metamorphoses of insects from grubs
into moths and flies is an astonishing process.
A hairy caterpillar is transformed into a butter-
fly. Observe the change, We have four
beautiful wings, where there were none before ;

OF INSECTS.

353

a tubular proboscis^ in the place of a mouth
with jaws and substitutes for teeth; six long
legs, instead of fourteen feet. In another case
we see a white, smooth, soft worm turned into
a black, hard, crustaceous beetle, with gauze
wings. These, as I said, are astonishing pro-
cesses, and must require, as it should seem, a
proportionably artificial apparatus.

The process by which this change takes place
varies in different insects ; but usually is the
following. When the egg of the butterfly or
moth, for instance, is hatched, a larva or caterpillar
comes forth, which grows and frequently changes
its covering until it has attained its full size,
when it appears under a hard covering and
without linibs : this is the pitpa. When this
covering is burst the winged insect comes forth,
and soon enters on its new and active existence.
But during the pupa stage, the coffined insect
has no means of existence or growth from with-
out ; yet this difficulty is provided for, as in
hybernating mammals, by an accumulation of a
kind of fatty matter within the larva, which is
thus stored, in anticipation of future need for
the growth of the pupa.

VI. Almost all insects are oviparous. Nature
usually keeps her butterflies, moths, and caterpil-
lars locked up during the winter in their egg-

A a

354

NATUEAL THEOLOGY.

state ; and we have to admire the various devices
to which, if we may so speak, the same nature
hath resorted, for the security of the egg*.
Many insects enclose their eggs in a silken web ;
others cover them with a coat of hair torn from
their own bodies ; some glue them together ; and
others, like the moth of the silk-worm, glue
them to the leaves upon which they are depo-
sited, that they may not be shaken off by the
wind, or washed away by rain ; some again
make incisions into leaves, and hide an egg in
each incision ; whilst some envelope their eggs
with a soft substance, which forms the first
aliment of the young animal : and some again
make a hole in the earth, and, having stored it
with a quantity of proper food, deposit their
eggs in it, or even float them on the water, firmly
glued together into a little raft, as does the
gnat. In all which we are to observe, that the
expedient depends, not sp much upon the address
of the animal, as upon the physical resources of
his constitution.

The art also with which the young insect is
coiled tip in the egg presents, where it can be
examined, a subject of great curiosity. The
insect, furnished with all the rudiments of its
future members, is rolled up into a form which
:seems to contract it into the least possible

OF INSECTS.

355

space; by which contraction^ notwithstanding
the smallness of the egg^ it has room enough in
its apartment^ and to spare. This folding of
the limbs appears to me to indicate a special
direction ; for if it were merely the effect of
compression^ the collocation of the parts would
be more various than it is. In the same species
I believe it is always the same.

These observations belong to the whole
insect tribe^ or to a great part of them.
Other observations are limited to fewer spe-
cies; but not, perhaps, less important or satis-
factory.

In spiders, which are still popularly regarded
as insects, each jaw is provided with a moveable
poison-fang, resembling, in its arrangement and
use, the poison-teeth of venomous snakes : for,
when these voracious creatures seize their prey,
the venom is expressed through a minute
aperture at the extremity of the fang into the
inflicted wound, producing almost instant death
of the victim. They are aided also in entrap-
ping their prey by the web they spin and the
net they spread; but this is only one of the
very many uses to which this beautiful texture
is applied : and the diversified ingenuity which
this application manifests is truly wonderful;
and not less so is the exquisite mechanism by
A a 2

356

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

wliich^ so to speak^ the
yarn is spun and the
ropes are made. *

The spinning appa-
ratus of the cater-
pillar^ the silk-worm
for example, is simple,
consisting of a long
tubular sac placed on
each side of the intes-
tine, terminating in a
single orifice through
which the silky thread
is drawn.

I. In the spider the
arrangement is more
complicated. It has
four spimieretSy each
of which is pierced by
innumerable orifices,
so that each small cord
is formed of, probably,
hundreds of finer
threads woven together
in a most intricate
by which the
strength of the delicate
web is greatly in-

S1LK BAGS OF
COSSUS CATERPILLAB.

or INSECTS.

357

creased. The secreting apparatus of this glue
is similar to^ but more complicated than^
that of the caterpillar. In both cases^ the ex-
tremity of the thready by means of its adhesive
quality, is first attached by the animal to some
external hold ; and the end being now fastened
to a point, the insect, by turning round its
body, or by receding from that point, draws out
the thread through the holes above described,
by an operation, as hath been observed, exactly
similar to the drawing of wire. The thread,
like the wire, is formed by the hole througli
which it passes. In one respect there is a
difference. The wire is the metal unaltered,
except in figure. In the animal process, the
nature of the substance is somewhat changed, as
well as the form ; for, as it exists within the
insect, it is a soft clammy gum or glue. The
thread acquires its firmness and tenacity from
the action of the air upon its surface, in the
moment of exposure ; and a thread so fine is
almost all surface. This property, however, of
the paste is part of the contrivance.

The mechanism itself consists of the bags or
reservoirs into which the glue is collected, and
of the external holes communicating with these
bags : and the action of the machine is seen in
the forming of a thread, as wire is formed, by

358

;^ATURAL THEOLOGY.

drawing the material already prepared through
holes of proper dimensions. The secretion is an
act too subtile for our discernment, except as we
perceive it by the produce, but one thing
answers to another ; the secretory glands to the
quality and consistence required in the secreted
substance ; the bag to its reception : the outlets
and orifices are constructed, not merely for
relieving the reservoirs of their burden, but for
manufacturing the contents into a form and
texture, of great external use, or rather indeed
of future necessity, to the life and functions of
the insect.

II. Bees, under one character or other, have
furnished every naturalist with a set of observa-
tions. I shall in this place confine myself to
one; and that is, the relation which obtains
between the wax and the honey. No person,
who has inspected a bee-hive, can forbear
remarking how commodiously the honey is
bestowed in the comb ; for the hexagonal form
of each cell is that which admits of closest pack-
ing without loss of space : and, amongst other
advantages, how effectually the fermentation
of the honey is prevented by distributing it into
small cells. The fact is, that when the honey
is separated from the comb, and put into jars,
it runs into fermentation with a much less

OF INSECTS.

359

degree of heat than what takes place in a hive.
This may be reckoned a nicety : but, indepen-
dently of any nicety in the matter, I would ask,
what could the bee do with the honey if it had
not the wax ? how, at least could it store it up
for winter? The wax, therefore, answers a
purpose with respect to the honey ; and the
honey constitutes that purpose with respect to
the wax. This is the relation between them.
But the two substances, though together of the
greatest use, and without each other of little,
come from a different origin. The bee finds the
honey, but makes the wax. The honey is
lodged in the nectaria of flowers, and probably
undergoes little alteration ; is merely collected :
whereas the wax is a ductile, tenacious paste,
which is produced by a digestive process in the
body of the bee, and exudes between the joints
of the abdomen. What account can be rendered
of facts so circumstanced, but that the animal,
being intended to feed upon honey, was, by a
peculiar external configuration, enabled to pro-
cure it? That, moreover, wanting the honey
when it could not be procured at all, it was
further endued with the no less necessary
faculty of constructing repositories for its
preservation ? Further, it is requisite that
the larvae or young should be fed ; and their

860

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

food is not the same as that by which the winged
insect is nourished^ but is the pollen of flowers.
A special arrangement exists for the collection
of this pollen^ which adheres to the thighs of
the bee as it is busy among the flowers^ and
is carried home in the spoon-shaped appendages
on its thighs^ which are employed for this
purpose. Thus the food of the larvae (bee-
bread) and the honey are collected^ but the wax
is produced by a digestive process from the
honey. This is a just account of the honey,
and the honey-comb : and this account, through
every part, carries a creative intelligence along
with it.

The sting also of the bee has this relation to
the honey, that it is necessary for the protection
of a treasure which invites so many robbers.

Our business is with mechanism. The Stag-
beetle cleans its antennse on a soft patch of hair
between his foreleg and chest. Any one may
watch how cleverly a common house-fly dresses
his body, wings, and limbs.

III. If the reader, looking to our distributions
of science, wish to contemplate the chemistry,
as well as the mechanism of nature, the insect
creation will aflbrd him an example. I refer to
the phosphorescent light in the tail of a glow-
worm. The only thing to be inquired after is

OF INSECTS.

361

the singularity^ if any such there be^ in the
natural history of this animal^ which should
render a provision of this kind more necessary
for it than for other insects. That singularity
seems to be the difference which subsists
between the male and the female. The glow-
worm is a female confined to the ground^ the
male of which is a fiy ; lively, comparatively
small, dissimilar to the female in appearance,
probably also as distinguished from her in habits,
pursuits, and manners, as he is unlike in form
and external constitution. Here, then, is the
adversity of the case. The female cannot meet
her companion in the air. The winged rover
disdains the ground. They might never there-
fore be brought together, did not this radiant
torch direct the volatile mate to his sedentary
female.

The light emitted by the male insect is com-
paratively feeble. The female has the power of
varying the intensity of her light, which is
most vivid at the pairing season : but as it
exists at other times, it may fulfil other purposes
besides that mentioned. Many insects, besides
the glow-worm, especially in more southern
regions than our own^ possess the same remark-
able property of emitting phosphorescent light
at will.

363

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

In the depths of the ocean the phosphores-
cence of living organisms may be made avail-
able to give light. Whether it result from
the combination of some combustible matter,
like phosphorus, with the oxygen of the air or
water ; or whether it be allied in its source with
the evolution of some such agent as the electric
organ of the torpedo, is unknown.

I MUST now crave the reader^s permission to
introduce into this place, for want of a better,
an observation or two upon the tribe of animals,
whether belonging to land or water, which are
covered by shells.

I. The shells of snails are a wonderful, a me-
chanical, and, if one might so speak concerning
the works of nature, an original contrivance.
Other animals have their proper retreats, their
hybernacula also, or winter-quarters, but the
snail carries these about with him. He travels
with his tent ; and this tent, though, as was
necessary, both light and thin, is completely
impervious either to moisture or air. The
young snail comes out of its egg with the shell
upon its back; and the gradual enlargement
which the shell receives is derived from the
slime excreted by the animaFs skin, or, more
properly speaking, its mantle. Now the aptness

OF INSECTS.

363

of this excretion to the purpose, its property of
hardening into a shell, and the apparatus by
which it is produced, are things which can,
with no probability, be referred to any other
cause than to express design ; and that not on
the part of the animal alone, in which design,
though it might build the house, could not have
supplied the material. The will of the animal
could not determine the quality of the excretion.
Add to which, that the shell of a snail, with its
pillar and convolution, is a very artificial fabric ;
whilst a snail, as it should seem, is the most
numb and unprovided of all artificers. In the
midst of variety, there is likewise a regularity
which would hardly be expected. In the same
species of snail the number of turns is usually,
if not always, the same. The sealing up of the
mouth of the shell by the snail is also well cal-
culated for its warmth and security ; but the
cerate is not of the same substance with the shell.

II. Much of what has been observed of snails
belongs to sJiell-fish and their shells, particularly
to those of the univalve kind ; with the addition
of two remarks : one of which is upon the great
strength and hardness of most of these shells.
I do not know whether, the weight being given,
art can produce so strong a case as we find in
some of these shells. Which defensive strength

364

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

suits well with the life of an animal, that has often
to sustain the dangers of a stormy element, and a
roeky bottom, as well as the attacks of voracious
fish. The other remark is upon the property,
in the animal excretion, not only of congealing,
but of congealing, or, as the builder would call it,
setting y in water, and into a cretaceous substance,
firm and hard. This property is much more
extraordinary, and, chemically speaking, more
specific than that of hardening in the air ; which
may be reckoned a kind of exsiccation, like the
drying of clay into bricks.

III. In the bivalve order of shell-fish, cockles,
muscles, oysters, &c., what contrivance can be
so simple or so clear, as the insertion, at the
back, of a tough elastic substance, that becomes
at once the ligament which binds the two shells
together, and the spring hinge upon which they
open and shut ? The strong muscle, by which
the two shells are drawn together, lies between
them : when this is relaxed, the elastic spring-
hinge opens the shells.

IV. The shell of a lobster^s tail, in its
articulations and overlappings, represents the
jointed part of a coat of mail ; or, rather, which
I believe to be the truth, a coat of mail is an
imitation of a lobster^s shell. The same end is
to be answered by both ; the same properties.

OF INSECTS.

365

therefore, are required in both ; namely, hardness
and flexibility^ a covering which may guard tlie
part without obstructing its motion. For this
double purpose^ the art of man^ expressly exer-
cised upon the subject^ has not been able to
devise anything better than what nature pre-
sents to his observation. The same remark may
be applied to the terrible weapons of destruc-
tion this predacious animal is provided with,
for seizing and destroying its prey. Indeed,
the serrated and spine-like tail of the king-crab
is used by savages to point their spears. Is not
this therefore mechanism, which the mechanic,
having a similar purpose in view, adopts ? Is
the structure of a coat of mail to be referred
to art ? Is the same structure of the lobster,
conducing to the same use, to be referred to any-
thing less than art ?

Some, who may acknowledge the imitation,
and assent to the inference which we draw from
it in the instance before us, may be disposed,
possibly, to ask why such imitations are not
more frequent than they are, if it be true, as we
allege, that the same principle of intelligence,
design, and mechanical contrivance, was exerted
in the formation of natural bodies, as we employ
in the making of the various instruments by
which our purposes are served ? The answers

366

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

to this question are, first, that it seldom happens
that precisely the same purpose, and no other,
is pursued in any works which we compare of
nature and of art ; secondly, that it still more
seldoms happens that we can imitate nature if
we would. Our materials and our workmanship
are equally deficient. Springs and wires, and
cork and leather, produce a poor substitute for
an arm or a hand. In the example which we
have selected, I mean a lobster^s shell compared
with a coat of mail, these difiiculties stand less
in the way, than in almost any other that can
be assigned : and the consequence is, as we have
seen, that art gladly borrows from nature her
contrivance, and imitates it closely.

But to return to insects. I think it is in
this class of animals above all others, especially
when we take in the multitude of species which
the microscope discovers, that we are struck
with what Cicero has called ‘^the insatiable
variety of nature.’^ There are said to be thou-
sands of species of flies, and hundreds of butter-
flies and moths ; each different from all the
rest. Bay observed, within the compass of a
mile or two of his own house, two hundred
kinds of moths and butterflies, nocturnal and
diurnal. He likewise asserts, but I think with-

OF INSECTS.

367

out any grounds of exact computation, that the
number of species of insects^ reckoning all sorts
of them, may not be short of ten thousand.^
They are now ascertained to be much more
numerous. And in this vast variety of animal
forms (for the observation is not confined to
insects, though more applicable perhaps to them
than to any other class), we are sometimes led
to take notice of the different methods, or rather
of the studiously diversified methods, by which
one and the same purpose is attained. In the
article of breathing, for example, which was to
be provided for in some way or other, besides
the ordinary varieties of lungs, gills, and
breathing-holes (for insects in general respire,
not by the mouth, but through holes in the
sides), the larva of the gnat is provided with
fin-like appendages to the tail, which, by their
movements, keep this part above water ; for
near to it is the orifice of the trachea, by which
the larva draws in the air which is necessary.
In the article of natural clothing, we have the
skins of animals invested with scales, hair,
feathers, mucus, froth; or itself turned into a
shell or crust : in the no less necessary article
of offence and defence, we have teeth, talons,

^ “ Wisdom of God/' p. 23.

368

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

beaks^ horns, stings, prickles, with (the most
singular expedient for the same purpose) the
power of giving the electric shock, and as is
credibly related of some animals, of driving
away their pursuers by an intolerable foetor, or
of blackening the water through which they are
pursued. The consideration of these appear-
ances might induce us to believe, that variety
itself, distinct from every other reason, was a
motive in the mind of the Creator, or with the
agents of His will.

To this great variety in organized life, the
Deity has given, or perhaps there arises out of
it, a corresponding variety of animal appetites.
For the final cause of this we have not far to
seek. Did all animals covet the same element,
retreat, or food, it is evident how much fewer
could be supplied and accommodated, than what
at present live conveniently together, and find a
plentiful subsistence. What one nature rejects,
another delights in. Food which is nauseous
to one tribe of animals becomes, by that very
property which makes it nauseous, an alluring
dainty to another tribe. Carrion is a treat to
dogs, ravens, vultures, fish. The exhalations of
corrupted substances attract flies by crowds.
Maggots revel in putrefaction*

OF PLANTS.

369

CHAPTER XX.

OF PLANTS.

I THINK a designed and studied mechanism to
be^ in general, more evident in animals than in
plants, though by no means deficient in the
latter ; and it is unnecessary to dwell upon a
less obvious argument, where a more manifest
one is at hand. There are, however, a few ob-
servations upon the vegetable kingdom, which
lie so directly in our way, that it would be
improper to pass them by without notice.

One great intention of nature in the structure
of plants, seems to be the perfecting of the
seed ; and, what is part of the same intention,
the preserving of it until it be perfected. This
intention shows itself, in the first place, by the
care which appears to be taken, to protect and
ripen, by every advantage which can be given
to them of situation in the plant, those parts
which most immediately contribute to fructifi-
cation, viz. the antherae, the stamina, and the
stigmata. These parts are usually lodged in

B 1)

370

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

the centre^ the recesses, or the labyrinths of the
flower ; during their tender and immature state
they are shut up in the stalk, or sheltered in
the bud ; as soon as they have acquired firm-
ness of texture sufficient to bear exposure, and
are ready to perform the important office which
is assigned to them, they are disclosed to the
light and air, by the bursting of the stem, or
the expansion of the petals ; after which they
have, in many cases, by the very form of the
flower during its blow, the light and warmth
reflected upon them from the concave side of
the cup. What is called also the sleej) of plants,
is the leaves or petals disposing themselves in
such a manner as to shelter the young stem,
buds, or fruit. They turn up, or they fall down,
according as this purpose renders either change
of position requisite. In the growth of corn,
whenever the plant begins to shoot, the two
upper leaves of the stalk are joined together,
embrace the ear, and protect it till the pulp has
acquired a certain degree of consistency. In
some water-plants, the flowering and fecundation
are carried on within the stem, which afterwards
opens above the water to let loose the impreg-
nated seed. The jpea or papilionaceous tribe
enclose the parts of fructification within a beau-
tiful folding of the internal blossom, sometimes

or PLANTS.

371

called^ from its shape^ the boat or keel ; itself
also usually protected under a penthouse formed
by the external petals. This structure is very
artificial^ and, what adds co the value of it,
though it may diminish the curiosity, very
general. It has also this further advantage
(and it is an advantage strictly mechanical),
that all the blossoms turn their hacks to the
wind, whenever the gale blows strong enough
to endanger the delicate parts upon which the
seed depends. I have observed this a hundred
times in a field of peas in blossom. It is an
aptitude which results from the figure of the
flower, and, as we have said, is strictly mechani-
cal j as much so as the turning of a weather-
board or tin cap upon the top of a chimney. Of
the wild po]^pyy and of many similar species of
flowers, the head, while it is growing, hangs
down, a rigid curvature in the upper part of the
stem giving to it that position j and in that
position it is impenetrable by rain or moisture.
When the head has acquired its size, and is
ready to open, the stalk erects itself, for the pur-
pose, as it should seem, of presenting the flower,
and with the flower, the instruments of fructifi-
cation, to the genial influence of the sun^s rays.
This always struck me as a curious property ;
and specifically, as well as originally, provided
B b 2

372

NATUEAL THEOLOGY.

for in the constitution of the plant : for^ if the
stem be only bent by the weight of the head,
how comes it to straighten itself when the head
is the heaviest ? These instances show the
attention of nature to this principal object, the
safety and maturation of the parts upon which
the seed depends.

In treeSy especially in those which are natives
of colder climates, this point is taken up earlier.
Many of these trees (observe in particular the
ash and the Jiorse-cJiestmif) produce the embryos
of the leaves and flowers in one year, and bring
them to perfection the following. There is a
winter therefore to be gotten over. Now what
we are to remark is, how nature has prepared
for the trials and severities of that season.
These tender embryos are, in the first place,
wrapped up with a compactness which no art
can imitate : in which state they compose what
we call the bud. This is not all. The bud
itself is enclosed in scales; which scales are
formed from rudimentary leaves, which are
never developed, but are thrown off as the young
leaves expand in the spring. Neither is this
the whole. In the coldest climates a third pre-
servative is added, by the bud having a coat of
gum or rosin, which, being congealed, resists
the rain and strongest frosts. On the approach

OF PLANTS.

373

of warm weather^ this gum is softened, and
ceases to be a hindrance to the expansion of the
leaves and flowers. All this care is part of that
system of provisions, which has for its object
and consummation the production and perfect-
ing of the seeds.

The SEEDS themselves are usually packed up
in a cajpstile, a vessel composed of coats, which,
compared with the rest of the flower, are strong
and tough. From this vessel projects a tube,
through the tissue of which the farina penetrates
to the embryo seeds within the pericarp. And
here also occurs a mechanical variety, accom-
modated to the different circumstances under
which the same purpose is to be accomplished.
In flowers which are erect, the pistil is shorter
than the stamina ; and the pollen, shed from
the antherse into the cup of the flower, is caught
in its descent by the head of the pistil, called
the stigma. But how is this managed when
the flowers hang down (as does the crown im-
perial for instance), and in which position the
farina, in its fall, would be carried from the
stigma, and not towards it ? The relative
length of the parts is now inverted. The
pistil in these flowers is usually longer instead
of shorter than the stamina, that its protruding
summit may receive the pollen as it drop'^ to the

374

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

ground. In some cases (as in the nigella) , where
the shafts of the pistils or styles are dispropor-
tionahly long^ they bend down their extremities
upon the anthers?, that the necessary approxima-
tion may be effected : in other instances the
intervention of insects is brought into requisition
for conveying the pollen to the stigma.

But (to pursue this great work in its progress)
the impregnation, to which all this machinery
relates, being completed, the other parts of the
flower fade and drop off, whilst the gravid seed-
vessel, on the contrary, proceeds to increase its
bulk, always to a great, and in some species (in
the gourd, for example, and melon), to a sur-
prising comparative size ; assuming in different
plants an incalculable variety of forms, but all
evidently conducing to the security of the seed.
By virtue of this process, so necessary but so
diversified, we have the seed at length, in stone-
fruits and nuts, incased in a strong shell, the
shell itself enclosed in a pulp or husk, by which
the seed within is, or hath been, fed : or, more gene-
rally (as in grapes, oranges, and the numerous
kinds of berries), plunged over head in a glutinous
syrup, contained within a skin or bladder : at
other times (as in apples and pears) embedded in
theheartof afirm fleshy substance; or (asin straw-
berries) pricked into the surface of a soft pulp.

OF PLANTS,

875

. These and many more varieties exist in what
we call fruits} In pulse^ and grain^ and grasses;

1 From tlie conformation of fruits alone, one might be
led, even without experience, to suppose, that part of this
provision was destined for the utilities of animals. As
limited to the plant, the provision itself seems to go beyond
its object. The flesh of an apple, the pulp of an orange,
the meat of a plum, the fatness of the olive, appear to be
more than sufficient for the nourishing of the seed or
kernel. The event shows, that this redundancy, if it be
one, ministers to the support and gratification of animal
natures; and when we observe a provision to be more
than sufficient for one purpose, yet wanted for another
purpose, it is not unfair to conclude that both purposes
were contemplated together. It favours this view of the
subject to remark, that fruits are not (which they might
have been) ready all together, but that they ripen in suc-
cession throughout a great part of the year; some in sum-
mer ; some in autumn ; that some require the slow matu-
ration of the winter, and supply the spring ; also that the
coldest fruits grow in the hottest places. Cucumbers,
pine- apples, melons, are the natural produce of warm
climates, and contribute greatly, by their coolness, to the
refreshment of the inhabitants of those countries.

I will add to this note the following observation com-
municated to me by Mr. Brinkley : —

“ The eatable part of the cherry or peach first serves
the purposes of perfecting the seed or kernel, by means of
vessels passing through the stone, and which are very
visible in a peach-stone. After the kernel is perfected
the stone becomes hard, and the vessels cease their func-
tions. But the substance surrounding the stone is not
then thrown away as useless. That which was before only
an instrument for perfecting the kernel, now receives and
retains to itself the whole of the sun’s influence, and thereby
becomes a grateful food man. Also, what an evident

376

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

in trees, and shrubs, and flowers ; the variety of
the seed-vessels is incomputable. We have the
seeds (as in the pea-tribe) regularly disposed in
parchment pods, which, though soft and mem-
branous, completely exclude the wet even in the
heaviest rains ; the pod also, not seldom (as in
the bean) lined with a fine down ; at other times
(as in the senna) distended like a brown bladder ;
or we have the seed enveloped in wool (as in the
cotton plant), lodged (as in pines) between the
hard and compact scales of a cone, or barri-
cadoed (as in the artichoke and thistle) with
spikes and prickles; in mushrooms, placed under a
penthouse ; in ferns, within slits in the back part
of the leaf : or (which is the most general organ-
ization of all) we find them covered by strong,
close tunicles, and attached to the stem according
to an order appropriated to each plant, as is seen
in the several kinds of grains and of grasses.

In which enumeration, what we have first to
notice is, unity of purpose under variety of expe-
dients. Nothing can be more single than the
design ; more diversified than the means.
Pellicles, shells, pulps, pods, husks, skin, scales
armed with thorns, are all employed in prose-

mark of design is the stone protecting the kernel ! The
intervention of the stone prevents the second use from
interfering with the first.”

OF PLANTS.

377

cuting the same intention. Secondly ; we may
observe that, in all these cases, the purpose is
fulfilled within a just and limiied degree. We
can perceive that, if the seeds of plants were
more strongly guarded than they are, their
greater security would interfere with other uses.
Many species of animals would suffer, and many
perish, if they could not obtain access to them.
The plant would overrun the soil ; or the seed
be wasted for want of room to sow itself. It
is sometimes as necessary to destroy particular
species of plants, as it is at other times to
encourage their growth. Here, as in many
cases, a balance is to be maintained between
opposite uses. The provisions for the preserva-
tion of seeds appear to be directed chiefly
against the inconstancy of the elements, or the
sweeping destruction of inclement seasons. The
consumption by animals, and the injuries of
accidental violence, are allowed for in the abun-
dance of the increase. The result is, that out
of the many thousand different plants which
cover the earth, not a single species, under
ordinary circumstances, can become extinct.

When nature has perfected her seeds, her next
care is to disperse them. The seed cannot
answer its purpose while it remains confined in
the capsule. After the seeds therefore are

378

NATURA.L THEOLOGY.

ripened^ the pericarpium opens to let them out ;
and the opening is not like an accidental burst-
ings but, for the most part, is according to a
certain rule in each plant. What I have
always thought very extraordinary, — nuts and
shells, which we can hardly crack with our
teeth, divide and make way for the little tender
sprout which proceeds from the kernel. Hand-
ling the nut, I could hardly conceive how the
plantule was ever to get out of it. There are
cases, likewise, in which the seed-vessel by an
elastic jerk, at the moment of its explosion,
casts the seeds to a distance. We all moreover
know, that many seeds (those of most composite
flowers, as of the thistle, dandelion, &c.) are
endowed with what are not improperly called
wings; that is, downy appendages, by which
they are enabled to float in the air, and are
carried oftentimes by the wind to great dis-
tances from the plant which produces them. It
is the swelling also of this downy tuft, within
the seed-vessel, that seems to overcome the
resistance of its coats, and to open a passage for
the seed to escape. By water also seeds have
been transported more than 3000 miles from
their native homes.

But the constitution of seeds is still more
admirable than either their preservation or their

OF PLANTS.

379

dispersion. In the body of the seed of every
species of plant, or nearly of every one^ provision
is made for two grand purposes : first, for the
safety of the germ ; secondly, for the temporary
support of the future plant. The sprout, as
folded up in the seed, is delicate and brittle
beyond any other substance. It cannot be
touched without being broken. Yet, in beans,
peas, grass-seeds, grain, fruits, it is so fenced on
all sides, so shut up and protected that, whilst
the seed itself is rudely handled, tossed into
sacks, shovelled into heaps, the sacred particle,
the miniature plant, remains unhurt. It is
wonderful, also, how long many kinds of seeds,
by the help of their integuments, and perhaps
of their oils, stand out against decay. A
grain of mustard-seed has been known to lie in
the earth for a hundred years; and, as soon as it
had acquired a favourable situation, to shoot as
vigorously as if just gathered from the plant.
Then, as to the second point, the temporary
support of the future plant, the matter stands
thus. In grain, and pulse, and kernels, and
pippins, the germ composes a very small part of
the seed. The rest consists of a nutritious
substance, from which, after the change produced
by warmth and moisture combined, the sprout
draws its aliment for some considerable time

380

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

after it is put forth ; viz. until the fibres, shot
out from the other end of the seed, are able to
imbibe juices from the earth, in a suflScient
quantity for its demand. It is owing to this
constitution that we see seeds sprout, and the
sprouts make a considerable progress without
any earth at all. It is an economy, also, in
which we remark a close analogy between the
seeds of plants and the eggs of animals. The
same point is provided for, in the same manner,
in both. In the plant, as well as in the animal,
the structure has every character of contrivance
belonging to it : in both it breaks the transition
from prepared to unprepared aliment ; in both
it is prospective and compensatory. In animals
which suck, this intermediate nourishment is
supplied from a different source.

In all subjects, the most common observations
are the best, when it is their truth and strength
which have made them common. There are, of
this sort, two concerning plants, which it falls
within our plan to notice. The^r^^relates to what
has already been touched upon, their germination.
When a grain of corn is cast into the ground,
this is the process which takes place. From one
end of the grain issues a green sprout; from
the other, a number of white fibrous threads.
How can this be explained ? Why not sprouts

OF PLANTS.

381

from both ends ? why not fibrous threads from
both ends ? To what is the difference to be
referred but to design ; to the different uses
which the parts are thereafter to serve ; uses
which discover themselves in the sequel of the
process ? The sprout^ or plumule, struggles
into the air, and becomes the plant, of which,
from the first, it contained the rudiments ; the
fibres shoot into the earth ; and thereby both
fix the plant to the ground, and collect nourish-
ment from the soil for its support. Now, what
is not a little remarkable, the parts issuing from
the seed take their respective directions, into
whatever position the seed itself happens to be
cast. If the seed be thrown into the wrongest
possible position, that is, if the ends point in
the ground the reverse of what they ought to
do, everything, nevertheless, goes on right.
The sprout, after being pushed down a little
way, makes a bend, and turns upwards ; the
fibres, on the contrary, after shooting at first
upwards, turn down. Of this extraordinary
vegetable fact, the following account has been
given : The plumule (it is said) is stimulated
by the air into action, and elongates itself
when it is thus most excited ; the radicle
is stimulated by moisturey and elongates itself
when it is thus most excited. Whence one

382

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

of these grows upward in quest of its adapted
object^ and the other downward.^^ Were this
account better verified by experiment than it
is, it only shifts the contrivance. It does not
disprove the contrivance ; it only removes it
a little further back. Who, to use our author’s
own language, adapted the objects^'’? Who
gave such a quality to these connate parts, as to
be susceptible of different ^^stimulation ; as to
be excited each only by its own element, and
precisely by that which the success of the vegeta-
tion requires ? I say which the success of the
vegetation requires for the toil of the husband-
man would have been in vain ; his laborious and
expensive preparation of the ground in vain, if
the event must, after all, depend upon the
position in which the scattered seed was sown.
Not one seed out of a hundred would fall in a
right direction.

Our second observation is upon a general pro-
perty of many climbing plants, which is strictly
mechanical. In these plants, from each knot or
joint issue, close to each other, two shoots :
one bearing the flower and fruit ; the other,
drawn out into a wire, a long, tapering, spiral
tendril, that twists itself round anything which
lies within its reach. Considering that in this
class two purposes are to be provided for (and

OF PLANTS.

383

together)^ fructification and support^ the fruitage
of the plants and the sustentation of the stalky
what means could be used more effectual^ or^ as
I have said^ more mechanical^ than what this
structure presents to our eyes ? Why^ or how,
without a view to this double purpose, do two
shoots, of such different and appropriate forms,
spring from the same joint, from contiguous
points of the same stalk ? It never happens
thus in robust plants, or in trees. We see not
(says Ray) so much as one tree, or shrub, or
herb, that hath a firm and strong stem, and
that is able to mount up and stand alone with-
out assistance, furnished with these tendrils,
Make only so simple a comparison as that
between a pea and a bean. Why does the pea
put forth tendrils, the bean not ; but because the
stalk of the pea cannot support itself, the stalk
of the bean can? We may add also, as a
circumstance not to be overlooked, that in the
pea-tribe these clasps do not make their appear-
ance till they are wanted ; till the plant has
grown to a height to stand in need of support.
Yet, it should be added, all slender and fragile
climbing plants are not provided with tendrils ;
but some, as the ivy, adhere to a tree or wall.

This word support suggests to us a
reflection upon a property of grasses, of corn,

384

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

and canes. The stems of these classes of plants
are set^ at certain intervals, with joints. These
joints are not found in the trunks of trees, or in
the solid stalks of plants. There may be other
uses of these joints; but the fact is, and it
appears to be at least one purpose designed by
them, that they corroborate the stem; which, by
its length or hollowness, would otherwise be too
liable to break or bend : they may prevent, in
dry situations, the too rapid exhaustion of the
moisture.

Grasses are Nature^s care. With these she
clothes the earth ; with these she sustains its
inhabitants. Cattle feed upon their leaves ;
birds upon their smaller seeds ; men upon the
larger ; for few readers need be told that the
plants which, under cultivation, produce our
bread-corn belong to this class. In those tribes
which are more generally considered as grasses,
their extraordinary means and powers of preser-
vation and increase, their hardiness, their almost
unconquerable disposition to spread, their facul-
ties of reviviscence, coincide with the intention
of nature concerning thorn. They thrive under
a treatment by which other plants are destroyed.
The more their leaves are consumed, the
more their roots increase. The more they
are trampled upon, the thicker they grow.

OF PLANTS.

385

Many of the seemingly dry and dead grasses
revive^ and renew their verdure in the spring.
In lofty mountains, where the summer heats are
not sufficient to ripen the seeds, grasses abound,
which are viviparous, and consequently able to
propagate themselves without seeds. It is an
observation, likewise, which has often been
made, that herbivorous animals attach them-
selves to the leaves of grasses ; and, if at liberty
in their pastures to range and choose, leave un-
touched the straws which support the flowers.^
Yet the cereals, or bread-corn-producing grasses,
are never found wild : they are annuals, and re-
quire tillage, and extensive employment of human
labour. Thus, grass grows spontaneously for
cattle, but food-plants by the cultivation of man.

The GENEUAL properties of vegetable nature,
or properties common to large portions of that
kingdom, are almost all which the compass of
our argument allows us to bring forward. It is
impossible to follow plants into their several
species. We may be allowed, however, to single
out three or four of these species as worthy of a
particular notice, either by some singular mechan-
ism, or by some peculiar provision, or by both.

I. In Dr. Darwin’s Botanic Garden (I. 395,
note), is the following account of the vallisneriay

1 Withering, Bot. Arr. vol. i. p. 28, ed. 2nd.

c c

386

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

as it has been observed in the river Rhone.

They have roots at the bottom of the Rhone.
The flowers of the female plant float on the sur-
face of the water, and are furnished with an
elastic spiral stalky which extends or contracts
as the water rises or falls ; this rise or fall, from
the torrents which flow into the river, often
amounting to many feet in a few hours. The
flowers of the male plant are produced under
water ; and as soon as the fecundating farina
is mature, they separate themselves from the
plant, rise to the surface, and are wafted by the
air, or borne by the currents, to the female
flowers.^^ Our attention in this narrative
will be directed to two particulars; first, to
the mechanism, the elastic spiral stalk,^^
which lengthens or contracts itself according
as the water rises or falls ; secondly, to the
provision which is made for bringing the
male flower, which is produced under water, to
the female flower which floats upon the surface.

II. My second example is the cuscuta euro-
pcea, which is a parasitical plant. After first
vegetating in the earth, its shoot seeks a living
stem of some other plant, into which it insinu-
ates itself by means of fleshy tubercles. This
attachment accomplished, the root dies : if it
fail the whole plant perishes ; the short-lived

OP PLANTS.

387

root being designed as a temporary expedient,
to support the vegetation until its parasitical
tendency is satisfied.

III. A better-known parasitical plant is the
evergreen shrub, called the mistletoe^ which is
entirely without root at any period of its
existence. What we have to remark in it is
a singular instance of compensation. No art
hath yet made these plants take root in the
earth. Here therefore might seem to be a
mortal defect in their constitution. Let us
examine how this defect is made up to them.
The seeds are endued with an adhesive quality
so tenacious, that if they be rubbed upon the
smooth bark of almost any tree, they will stick
to it. And then what follows ? Processes
springing from these seeds, insinuate themselves
into the woody substance of the tree ; and the
event is, that a mistletoe plant is produced
next winter. The natural order of Lorantliaccje
furthermore exemplify this peculiarity, and
illustrate this compensatory property of drawing
nutriment from other sources, where the root is
wanting.

IV. Another instance of the compensatory
system is in the autumnal crocus, or meadow
saffron {colchicum autumnale), I have pitied this
poor plant a thousand times. Its blossom rises

c c 2

388

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

out of the ground in the most forlorn condition
possible ; without a sheath, a fence, a calyx, or
even a leaf to protect it ; and that, not in the
spring, not to be visited by summer suns, but
under all the disadvantages of the declining
year. When we come, however, to look more
closely into the structure of this plant, we find
that, instead of its being neglected. Nature has
gone out of her course to provide for its security,
and to make up to it for all its defects. The
seed-vessel, which in other plants is situated
within the cup of the flower, or just beneath it,
in this plant lies buried ten or twelve inches
under ground within the bulbous root. The
tube of the flower, which is seldom more than a
few tenths of an inch long, in this plant extends
down to the root. The styles in all cases reach
the seed-vessel; but it is in this, by an elonga-
tion unknown to any other plant. All these
singularities contribute to one end. ^^As this
plant blossoms late in the year, and pro-
bably would not have time to ripen its seeds
before the access of winter, which would destroy
them. Providence has so contrived its structure
that this important office may be performed at a
depth in the earth out of reach of the usual
effects of frost.^’ ^ That is to say, in the
^ Withering, ubi supra, p. 360.

DIONjEA MUSCIPULA,

390

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

Mutumn nothing is done above ground but the
business of impregnation ; which is an affair
between the antheree and the stigmata^ and is
probably soon over. The maturation of the
impregnated seed, which in other plants pro-
ceeds within a capsule exposed together with
the rest of the flower to the open air, is here
carried on, and during the whole winter, within
the heart, as we may say of the earth, that is,
out of the reach of the usual effects of frost.^^
But then a new difficulty presents itself.
Seeds, though perfected, are known not to vege-
tate at this depth in the earth. Our seeds,
therefore, though so safely lodged, would, after
all, be lost to the purpose for which all seeds
are intended. Lest this should be the case, a
second admirable provision is made to raise them
above the surface when they are perfected, and
to sow them at a proper distance viz. the
germ grows up in the spring^ upon a fruit-stalk,
accompanied with leaves. The seeds now, in
common with those of other plants, have tha
beneflt of the summer, and are sown upon the
surface. The order of vegetation externally is
this : — The plant produces its flowers in Sep-
tember; its leaves and fruits in the spring
following.

V. I give the account of the dioncea mmcipula.

OF PLANTS.

391

an extraordinary American plants as some late
authors have related it. Its leaves are jointed
by a longitudinal rib^ and furnished on their
edges with two rows of strong prickles ; their
surfaces are also armed with a number of rather
strong and sharp bristles. When these parts
are touched by the legs of flies^ the two lobes of
the leaf instantly spring up, the rows of prickles
lock themselves fast together, and squeeze the
unwary animal to death. Here, under a new
model, we recognize the ancient plan of nature,
viz. the relation of parts and provisions to one
another, to a common office, and to the
utility of the organized body to which they
belong. The rows of strong prickles, their
position so as to interlock the joints of the
leaves ; and, what is more than the rest, that
singular irritability of their surfaces, by which
they close at a touch : all bear a contributory
part in producing an effect, connected with
the nutrition of the plant ; for there seems
to be little reason to doubt that it is carnivo-
rous ; actually digesting the prey which it thus
entraps.

392

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

CHAPTER XXT.

THE ATMOSPHERE^ WATER^ HEAT AND LIGHT.

We now take leave of the organic kingdom, and
come to the consideration of agents which are
universally essential to the very existence of
life, whether in the animal or vegetable king-
dom ; viz. air and water, heat and light.

We can never think of these without reflect-
ing upon the number of distinct uses which are
consolidated in the same substance. The air
supplies the lungs, supports fire, conveys sound,
furnishes a medium for the minute bodies which
reflect light, diffuses smells, holds vapour, wafts
ships, bears up birds. wSaro? ra iravra :

water, besides maintaining its own inhabit-
ants, is the universal nourisher of plants, and
through them, of terrestrial animals ; is the basis
of their juices and fluids; dilutes their food;
quenches their thirst ; floats their burdens. Heat
is the great promoter of vegetation and life, and
necessary to the support of both.

We might enlarge, to almost any length we

ATMOSPHERE^ WATER, HEAT, AND LIGHT. ‘393

please, upon each of these uses ; but it appears
to me almost sufficient to state them. The few
remarks, which I judge it necessary to add, are
as follow : —

I. There appears to be no necessity for an
atmosphere^s investing our globe except for its
utility, yet it does invest it ; and we see how
many, how various, and how important are the
purposes which it answers to every order of
animated beings, which are placed upon the
terrestial surface. I think that every one of
these uses will be understood upon the first
mention of them, except it be its connexion with
refiecting light, which may be explained thus. If
I had the power of seeing only by means of
rays coming directly from the sun, whenever I
turned my back upon the luminary, I should
find myself in darkness. If I had the power
of seeing by reflected light, yet by means
only of light reflected from solid masses, these
masses would shine indeed, and glisten, but
it would be in the dark. The hemisphere,
the sky, the world, could only be illuminated,
as it is illuminated, by the light of the sun
being from all sides, and in every direction,
reflected to the eye, by particles, as numerous,
as thickly scattered, and as widely diffused, as
the air through which it passes.

394

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

Another general quality of the atmosphere
is the power of holding vapour. The adjust-
ment of this quality to our use is seen in
the evaporation from the sea. In the sea,
water and salt are mixed together most inti-
mately ; yet the atmosphere absorbs the water,
and leaves the salt. Pure and fresh as drops of
rain descend, they are collected from brine.

By evaporation, water is carried up into the
air ; by the converse of evaporation, it falls down
upon the earth. And how does it fall ? Not
by the clouds being all at once re-converted
into water, and descending like a sheet ; not
in rushing down in columns from a spout;
but in moderate drops, as from a colander. Our
watering-pots are made to imitate showers of
rain. Yet, a priori ^ I should have thought
either of the two former methods more likely
to have taken place than the last.

By respiration, putrefaction, combustion, air
is rendered unfit for the support of animal life.
By the constant operation of these corrupting
principles, the whole atmosphere, if there were
no restoring causes, would come at length to
be deprived of its necessary degree of purity.
Many of these causes have been discovered, and
their efficacy ascertained by experiment. And
so far as the discovery has proceeded, it opens to

ATMOSPHERE, WATER, HEAT, AND LIGHT. 395

US a beautiful and a wonderful economy. Vege-
tation proves to be one of them. Plants require
that which is deleterious to animals : the former
absorb carbonic acid, and after decomposing it,
yield oxygen for the use of the latter : other
injurious gases are likewise resolved into their
elements in various ways, to be again rendered
available for new combinations. The remark-
able law by which the diffusion of gases is
regulated, is a striking proof of design in
accomplishing a result on which the perpetu-
ation of life depends. If gases were simply sub-
ject to the law of gravitation, the heavy gases
would be found near the surface of the earth and
the lighter in the higher regions. This would
cause a mechanical separation of the lighter
from the heavier gases, and would be fatal to
animal lifot Can we not see design in the law
of diffusion which renders the law of gravitation
partly inoperative, and causes the atmosphere to
retain uniformly the same constituents in the
same proportions ? These agencies are further
aided by constant and changing currents of air,
and sometimes by tempests and hurricanes. No-
thing can be of greater importance to the living
creation than the salubrity of the atmosphere.
It ought to reconcile us therefore to these agita-
tions of the element of which we sometimes

396

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

deplore the consequences, to know, that they
tend powerfully to restore to the air that
purity, which so many causes are constantly
impairing.

II. In Water y what ought not a little to be
admired, are those negative qualities which con-
stitute its ptirity. Had it been vinous, or
oleaginous, or acid ; had the sea been filled, or the
rivers flowed, with wine or milk; fish, constituted
as they are, must have died ; plants, constituted
as they are, would have withered ; the lives of
animals which feed upon plants must have
perished. Its very ins^ndity^ which is one of
those negative qualities, renders it the best of
all menstrua. Having no taste of its own, it
becomes the sincere vehicle of every other.
Had there been a taste in water, be it what it
might, it would have infected everything we ate
or drank with an importunate repetition of the
same flavour.

Another thing in this fluid, not less to he
admired, is the constant round which it travels ;
and by which, without suffering either adultera-
tion or waste, it is continually offering itself to
the wants of the habitable globe. From the
sea are exhaled those vapours which form the
clouds ; these clouds descend in showers, which,
penetrating into the crevices of the hills, supply

ATMOSPHERE^ WATER^ HEAT, AND LIGHT. 397

springs ; which springs flow in little streams
into the valleys; and there, uniting, become
rivers ; which rivers, in return, feed the ocean.
So there is an incessant circulation of the same
fluid ; and not more or less now than there was
at the creation. A particle of water takes its
departure from the surface of the sea, in order
to fufil certain important offices to the earth ;
and, having executed the service which was
assigned to it, returns to the bosom which
it left.

And here we may pause for a moment to
notice the remarkable circumstance that,
although water becomes heavier as it becomes
colder, nearly to the point of freezing, when
actually frozen, or converted into ice, it becomes
lighter than the surrounding water. The result
of this has a special importance; for, if ice
were to sink to the bottom of our lakes and
ponds, the summer^s sun could scarcely thaw
it. Moreover, by the expansion of water at a
certain degree of cold, the winter frosts prepare
the ground for future vegetation.

Some have thought that we have too much
water upon the globe, the sea occupying above
two thirds of its whole surface. But the
expanse of ocean, immense as it is, may be no
more than sufficient to fertilize the earth. Or,

^98

NATUEAL THEOLOGY.

independently of this reason, I know not why
the sea may not have as good a right to its
plaee as the land. It may proportionably
support as many inhabitants; minister to as
large an aggregate of enjoyment. The land
only aflPords a habitable surface ; the sea is
habitable to a great depth.

The influence of Heat is universal. With-
out it neither animal nor vegetable life
could exist, and numerous are the expe-
dients we adopt to generate and economize it.
But the great source of heat, as of light,
is the sun. One great office indeed of heat
in the economy of nature is keeping things
in a state of solution, that is to say, in a state
of fluidity. Were it not for the presence
of heat, or of a certain degree of it, all
fluids would be frozen. The ocean itself would
be a quarry of ice ; universal nature stiff and
dead.

We see, therefore, that these things bear not
only a strict relation to the constitution of
organized bodies, but a relation to each other.
Water could not perform its office to the
earth without air ; nor exist, as water, without
heat.

It is altogether superfluous to expatiate upon
the use of light. No man disputes it. The

ATMOSPHERE^ WATER^ HEAT, AND LIGHT. 399

observations, therefore, which I shall offer on
this subject need be but few.

Light, which is propagated by undulations of
a medium called ether which fills all space,
travels from the sun at the rate of about twelve
millions of miles in a minute.

It is impossible for the human mind to
imagine to itself anything so wonderful as
light. A drop of tallow, expended in the wick
of a farthing candle, shall cause vibrations of
the ether that will be perceived half a mile
away by the eye. A stone thrown into a pond
will create ripples that extend a long distance
before they disappear. But the undulations in
the ether which are excited by a light-giving
body can hardly be said to disappear anywhere.
They stretch out on all sides into the infinite.
The waves, for instance, which have been set
up in the ether by the most distant fixed stars,
reach our eyes after being on the way for
thousands of years.

We see something of design too in the varied
colours which are produced by the waves of
light not being all of the same length. This is
of infinite use for us for the distinguishing of
objects; and adds much to the beauty of the
earth, while it augments the stock of our
innocent pleasures.

400

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

CHAPTER XXIL

ASTRONOMY.

My opinion of Astronomy has always been, that
it is not the best medium through which to prove
the agency of an intelligent Creator ; but that,
this being proved, it shows, beyond all other
sciences, the magnificence of His operations. The
mind which is once convinced, it raises to sub-
limer views of the Deity than any other subject
affords ; but it is not so well adapted, as some
other subjects are, to the purpose of argument.
We are destitute of the means of sufl&ciently
examining the constitution of the heavenly
bodies. The very simplicity of their appearance
is against them. We see nothing but bright
points, luminous circles, or the phases of spheres
reflecting the light which falls upon them. Now
we deduce design from relation, aptitude, and
correspondence of parts. Some degree, there-
fore, of complexity is necessary to render a subject
fit for this species of argument.

ASTUONOMY.

401

The motions of the heavenly bodies are carried
on without any sensible intermediate apparatus ;
whereby we are cut off from one principal
ground of argumentation^ analogy. We have
nothing wherewith to compare them ; no in-
vention^ no discovery, no operation or resource
of art, which in this respect resembles them.
Even those things which are made to imitate and
represent them, such as orreries, planetaria, celes-
tial globes, &c., bear no affinity to them, in the
cause and principle by which thr motions are
actuated.

Our ignorance, moreover, of the sensitive
natures by which other planets may be inhabited,
necessarily keeps from us the knowledge of num-
berless utilities, relations, and subserviences,
which we perceive upon our own globe.

After all; the real subject of admiration is,
that we understand so much of astronomy as we
do. That an animal confined to the surface of
one of the planets ; bearing a less proportion to
it than the smallest microscopic insect does to
^he plant it lives upon ; that this little, busy.
Inquisitive creature, by the use of senses which
were given to it for its domestic necessities, and
by means of the assistants of those senses which
it has had the art to procure, should have been
enabled to observe the whole system of worlds to

D d

402

NATUEAL THEOLOGY.

which its own belongs ; the changes of place of
the immense globes which compose it ; and with
such accuracy, as to mark out, beforehand, the
situation in the heavens in which they will be
found at any future point of time ; and that
these bodies, after sailing through regions of
void and trackless space, should arrive at the
place where they were expected, not within a
minute, but within a few seconds of a minute,
of the time prefixed and predicted ; all this is
wonderful, whether we refer our admiration to
the constancy of the heavenly motions them-
selves, or to the perspicacity and precision with
which they have been noticed by mankind. Nor
is this the whole, nor indeed the chief part, of
what astronomy teaches. By bringing reason
to bear upon observation (the acutest reasoning
upon the exactest observation), the astronomer
has been able, out of the mystic dance,’' and
the seeming confusion under which the motions
of the heavenly bodies present themselves to the
eye of a mere gazer upon the skies, to elicit their
order and their real paths.

Our knowledge therefore of astronomy is ad-
mirable, though imperfect ; and, amidst the
confessed desiderata and desideranda which
impede our investigation of the wisdom of the
Deity^ in these the grandest of His works, there

ASTRONOMY.

403

are to be founds in the phenomena^ ascertained
circumstances and laws, sufBcient to indicate an
intellectual agency in three of its principal
operations, viz. in choosing, in determining, in
regulating ; in clioomngy out of a boundless
variety of suppositions which were equally
possible, that which is beneficial ; in determining,
what, left to itself, had a thousand chances
against conveniency, for one in its favour; in
regulating subjects, as to quantity and degree,
which, by their nature, were unlimited with
respect to either. It will be our business to
offer, under each of these heads, a few instances,
such as best admit of a popular explication.

I. Amongst proofs of choice, one is, fixing
the source of light and heat in the centre of our
system. The sun is ignited and luminous ; the
planets which move round him, cold and dark.
There seems to be no antecedent necessity for
this order. The sun might have been an opaque
mass ; some one, or two, or more, or any, or all the
planets, globes of fire. There is nothing in the
nature of the heavenly bodies which requires
that those which are relatively stationary should
be on fire, that those which move around them
should be cold ; for this order does not obtain
between the primary planets and their second-
aries, which are all opaque. When we consider,
n d 2

404

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

therefore^ that the sun is one ; that the planets
going round it are numerous ; that it is indif-
ferent to their nature, which are luminous and
which are opaque ; and also, in what order, with
respect to each other, these two kinds of bodies
are disposed ; we may judge of the improbability of
the present arrangement taking place by chance.

The preference of the present to any other
mode of distributing luminous and opaque bodies
I take to be evident. It requires more astro-
nomy than I am able to lay before the reader
to show, in its particulars, what would be the
effect to the system, of a dark body at the centre,
and of one of the planets being luminous : but
I think it manifest, without either plates or
calculation, first, that supposing the necessary
proportion of magnitude between the centi’al
and the revolving bodies to be preserved, the
ignited planet would be insufficient to illuminate
and warm the rest of the system, although such
light and heat as it distributed were imparted
to the other planets.j

II. The conclusion to be drawn from geological
investigation of the earth^s crust is, that it was
originally fluid and in a state of ignition ; and

^ Some of Paley’s arguments are here omitted as being
inconsistent with the present state of science, and of those
which are retained many must be considered as much
modified by the Febular Hypothesis.

ASTRONOMY.

405

that it gradually cooled sufficiently to support
vegetation and the lowest forms of animal life,
the vapour being condensed into water which, in
course of time, collected on the surface. There-
fore we may conceive the present face of the
earth to have originated from the revolution of
a sphere, the fluid and solid parts separating,
as the surface cooled and became quiescent.
Here then comes in the moderating hand of the
Creator. If the water had exceeded its present
proportion, even but by a trifling quantity com-
pared with the whole globe, all the land would
have been covered : had there been much less
than there is, there would not have been enough
to fertilize the continent. Had the exsiccation
been progressive, such as we may suppose to
have been produced by an evaporating heat,
how came it to stop at the point at which we
see it? Why did it not stop sooner? Why
at all ? The mandate of the Deity will account
for this ; nothing else will.

III. Of centripetal forces. By virtue of
the simplest law that can be imagined, viz.
that a body continnes in the state in which it
is, whether of motion or rest ; and if in motion,
goes on in the line in which it was proceeding,
and with the same velocity, unless there be
some cause for change : by virtue, I say, of

406

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

this law^ it comes to pass (what may appear to
be a strange consequence)^ that cases arise^ in
which attraction, incessantly drawing a body
towards a centre, never brings, nor ever will
bring, the body to that centre, but keep it in
eternal circulation round it. If it were possible
to fire off a cannon-ball with a velocity of five
miles in a second, and the resistance of the air
could be taken away, the cannon-ball would for
ever wheel round the earth, instead of falling
down upon it. This is the principle which
sustains the heavenly motions. The Deity,
having appointed this law to matter (than
which, as we have said before, no law could
be more simple), has turned it to a wonderful
account in constructing planetary systems.

The actuating cause in these systems, is an
attraction which all bodies have upon one another,
and which varies reciprocally as the square of
the distance ; that is, at double the distance,
has a quarter of the force ; at half the distance,
four times the strength ; and so on. Now,
concerning this law of variation, we have three
things to observe : First ; that attraction, for
anything we know about it, was just as capable
of one law of variation as of another : Secondly ;
that out of an infinite number of possible laws,
those which were admissible for the purpose of

ASTRONOMY.

407

supporting the heavenly motions lay within
certain narrow limits : Thirdly ; that of the ad-
missible laws^ or those which come within the
limits prescribed^ the law that actually prevails
is the most beneficial. So far as these propo-
sitions can be made out^ we may be said, I
think, to prove choice and regulation : choice,
'^ut of boundless variety ; and regulation, of that
which, by its own nature, was, in respect of the
property regulated, indifferent and indefinite.

I. First then, attraction, for anything we
know about it, might have been originally indif-
ferent to all laws of variation depending upon
change of distance, i.e. just as susceptible of one
law as of another. It might have been the same
at all distances ; it might have increased as the
distance increased : or it might have diminished
with the increase of the distance, yet in ten
thousand different proportions from the present ;
it might have followed no stated law at all. If
attraction be what Cotes, with many other
Newtonians, thought it to be, a primordial
property of matter, not dependent upon, or
traceable to, any other material cause ; then, by
the very nature and definition of a primordial
property, it stood indifferent to all laws. If
it be the agency of something immaterial,
then also, for anything we know of it, it was

408

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

indifferent to all laws. If the revolution of
bodies round a centre depend upon vortices,
neither are these limited to one law more than
another.

II. Our second proposition is, that whilst
the possible laws of variation were infinite, the
admissible laws, or the laws compatible with the
preservation of the system, lie within narrow
limits. If the attracting force had varied ac-
cording to any direct law of the distance, let it
have been what it would, great destruction and
confusion would have taken place. The direct
simple proportion of the distance would, it is
true, have produced an ellipse : but the per-
turbing forces would have acted with so much
advantage, as to be continually changing the
dimensions of the ellipse, in a manner incon-
sistent with our terrestrial creation. For in-
stance ; if the planet Saturn, so large and so
remote, had attracted the earth, both in propor-
tion to the quantity of matter contained in it,
which it does ; and also in any proportion to its
distance, i. e. if it had pulled the harder for
being the further off (instead of the reverse
of it), it would have dragged out of its course
the globe which we inhabit, and have perplexed
its motions, to a degree incompatible with our
security, our enjoyments, and probably our ex-

ASTRONOMY.

409

istence. Of the inverse laws, if the centripetal
force had changed as the cube of the distance,
or in any higher proportion, that is (for I speak
to the unlearned), if, at double the distance, the
attractive force had been diminished to an
eighth part, or to less than that, the conse-
quence would have been that the planets, if
they once began to approach the sun, would
have fallen into his body ; if they once, though
by ever so little, increased their distance from
the centre, would for ever have receded from it.
The laws therefore of attraction, by which a
system of revolving bodies could be upholden in
their motions, lie within narrow limits, com-
pared with the possible laws. I much under-
rate the restriction, when I say that, in a scale
of a mile, they are confined to an inch. All
direct ratios of the distance are excluded, on
account of danger from perturbing forces ; all
reciprocal ratios, except what lie beneath the
cube of the distance, by the demonstrable con-
sequence, that every the least change of dis-
tance would, under the operation of such laws,
have been fatal to the repose and order of the
system. We do not know, that is, we seldom
reflect, how interested we are in this matter.
Small irregularities may be endured ; but
changes within these limits being allowed for,

410

NATURA.L THEOLOGY.

the permanency of our ellipse is a question of
life and death to our whole sensitive world.

III. That the subsisting law of attraction
falls within the limits which utility requires,
when these limits bear so small a proportion
to the range of possibilities upon which chance
might equally have cast it, is not, with any
appearance of reason, to be accounted for by
any other cause than a regulation proceeding
from a designing mind. But our next pro-
position carries the matter somewhat further.
We say, in the third place, that . out of the
different laws which lie within the limits of
admissible laws, ihehest is made choice of; that
there are advantages in this particular law which
cannot be demonstrated to belong to any other
law; and, concerning some of which, it can be de-
monstrated that they do not belong to any other.

1. Whilst this law prevails between each
particle of matter, the united attraction of a
sphere, composed of that matter, observes the
same law. This property of the law is neces-
sary, to render it applicable to a system com-
posed of spheres, but it is a property which
belongs to no other law of attraction that is
admissible. The law of variation of the united
attraction is in no other case the same as the
law of attraction of each particle, one case

ASTEONOMY.

411

excepted, and that is of the attraction varying*
directly as the distance ; the inconveniency of
which law, in other respects, we have already
noticed.

We may follow this regulation somewhat
further, and still more strikingly perceive that
it proceeded from a designing mind. A law
both admissible and convenient was requisite.
In what way is the law of the attracting globes
obtained ? Astronomical observations, and ter-
restrial experiments, show that the attraction
of the globes of the system is made up of the
attraction of their parts ; the attraction of each
globe being compounded of the attractions of
its parts. Now the admissible and convenient
law which exists, could not be obtained in a
system of bodies gravitating by the united
gravitation of their parts, unless each particle
of matter were attracted by a force varying
by one particular law, viz. varying inversely as
the square of the distance ; for, if the action of
the particles be according to any other law
whatever, the admissible and convenient law
which is adopted could not be obtained. Here
then are clearly shown regulation and design.
A law both admissible and convenient was to
be obtained : the mode chosen for obtaining
that law was by making each particle of matter

412

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

act. After this choice was made^ then further
attention was to be given to each particle of
matter, and one, and one only particular law of
action to be assigned to it. No other law
would have answered the purpose intended.

2. All systems must be liable to perturha^
tions. And therefore, to guard against these
perturbations, or rather to guard against their
running to destructive lengths, is perhaps the
strongest evidence of care and foresight that
can be given. Now we are able to demonstrate
cf our law of attraction, what can be demon-
strated of no other, and what qualifies the
dangers which arise from cross but unavoidable
influences, that the action of the parts of our
system upon one another will not cause per-
manently increasing irregularities, but merely
periodical or vibratory ones ; that is, they will
come to a limit, and then go back again. This
we can demonstrate only of a system, in which
the following properties concur, viz. that the
force shall be inversely as the square of the
distance ; the masses of the revolving bodies
small, compared with that of the body at the
centre; the orbits not much inclined to one
another ; and their eccentricity little. In such
a system the grand points are secure. The
mean distances and periodic times, upon which

ASTRONOMY.

413

depend our temperature and the regularity of
our year, are constant. The eccentricities, it is
true, will still vary, but so slowly, and to so
small an extent, as to produce no inconveniency
from fluctuation of temperature and season.
The same as to the obliquity of the planes of
the orbits. For instance, the inclination of the
ecliptic to the equator will never change above
two degrees (out of ninety), and that will re-
quire many thousand years in performing.

It has been rightly also remarked, that if the
great planets, Jupiter and Saturn, had moved
in lower spheres, their influences would have
had much more effect, as to disturbing the
planetary motions, than they now have. While
they revolve at so great distances from the rest,
they act almost equally on the sun and on the
inferior planets ; which has nearly the same
consequence as not acting at all upon either.

If it be said that the planets might have
been sent round the sun in exact circles, in
which case, no change of distance from the
centre taking place, the law of variation of
the attracting power would have never come
in question, one law would have served as
well as another ; an answer to the scheme may
be drawn from the consideration of these same
perturbing forces. The system retaining in

414

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

other respects its present constitution, though
the planets had been at first sent round in exact
circular orbits, they could not have kept them :
and if the law of attraction had not been what
it is, or at least, if the prevailing law had trans-
gressed the limits above assigned, every depar-
ture would have been fatal : the planet once
drawn, as drawn it necessarily must have been,
out of its course, would have wandered in end-
less error.

IV. What we have seen in the law of the
centripetal force, viz. a choice guided by views
of utility, and a choice of one law out of thou-
sands which might equally have taken place,
we see no less in figures of the planetary
orbits. It was not enough to fix the law of
the centripetal force, though by the wisest
choice ; for, even under that law, it was still
competent to the planets to have moved in
paths possessing so great a degree of eccentri-
city, as in the course of every revolution, to be
brought very near to the sun, and carried away
to immense distances from him. The comets
actually move in orbits of this sort ; and had
the planets done so, instead of going round in
orbits nearly circular, the change from one
extremity of temperature to another must, in
ours at least, have destroyed every animal and

ASTRONOMY.

415

plant upon its surface. Novv^ the distance
from the centre at which a planet sets off, and
the absolute force of attraction at that distance
being fixed^ the figure of his orbit^ its being a
circle, or nearer to, or further off from a circle,
viz. a rounder or a longer oval, depends upon
two things, the velocity with which, and the
direction in which, the planet is projected.
And these, in order to produce a rig^ht result,
must be both brought within certain narrow
limits. One, and only one, velocity, united
with one, and only one, direction, will produce
a perfect circle. And the velocity must be
near to this velocity, and the direction also near
to this direction, to produce orbits, such as the
planetary orbits are, nearly circular ; that is,
ellipses with small eccentricities. The velocity
and the direction must both be right. If the
velocity be wrong, no direction will cure
the error ; if the direction be in any consider-
able degree oblique, no velocity will produce
the orbit required. Take for example the at-
traction of gravity at the surface of the earth.
The force of that attraction being what it is
out of all the degrees of velocity, swift and
slow, with which a ball might be shot off, none
would answer the purpose of which we are
speaking, but what was nearly that of five miles

416

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

in a second. If it were less than that, the body
would not g'et round at all, but would come to
the ground ; if it were in any considerable degree
more than that, the body would take one of
those eccentric courses, those long ellipses, of
which we have noticed the inconvenieney. If
the velocity reached the rate of seven miles in a
second, or went beyond that, the ball would fly
oif from the earth, and never be heard of more.
In like manner with respect to the direction ;
out of the innumerable angles in which the ball
might be sent off (I mean angles formed with
a line drawn to the centre), none would serve
but what was nearly a right one : out of the
various dii^ections in which the cannon might
be pointed, upwards and downwards, every one
would fail, but what was exactly or nearly hori-
zontal. The same thing holds true of the
planets : of our own amongst the rest. We are
entitled therefore to ask, and to urge the
question. Why did the projectile velocity and
projectile direction of the earth happen to be
nearly those which would retain it in a circular
form ? Why not one of the infinite number
of velocities, one of the infinite number of direc-
tions, which would have made it approach much
nearer to, or recede much further from, the sun ?

In regard to the origin of our planetary

ASTRONOMY.

417

system and the relation of the planets to the
snn^ Maclaurin has made the following apposite
remarks : —

If we suppose the matter of the system to
be accumulated in the centre by its gravity, no
mechanical principles, with the assistance of
this power of gravity, could separate the vast
mass into such parts as the sun and planets ;
and, after carrying them to their different dis-
tances, project them in their several directions,
preserving still the quality of action and re-
action, or the state of the centre of gravity of
the system. Such an exquisite structure of
things could only arise from the contrivance
and powerful influences of an intelligent, free
and most potent agent. The same powers,
therefore, which at present govern the material
universe, and conduct its various motions, are
very different from those, which were necessary
to have produced it from nothing, or to have
disposed it in the admirable form in which it
now proceeds/^ ^

To conclude : In astronomy, the great thing
is to raise the imagination to the subject, and
that oftentimes in opposition to the impression
made upon the senses. An illusion, for example,
must be gotten over, arising from the distance

* Maclaurin’s Account of Newton’s Philosopliy, p. 407.

E e

418

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

at which we view the heavenly bodies, viz. the
apparent slowness of their motions. The moon
shall take a long time in getting half a yard
from a star which it touched. A motion so
deliberate we may think easily guided. But
what is the fact ? The moon, in fact, is, all this
while, driving through the heavens, at the rate
of considerably more than two thousand miles
in an hour ; which is about double of that,
with which a ball is shot off from the mouth
of a cannon. Yet is this prodigious rapidity as
much under government, as if our satellite
proceeded ever so slowly, or were conducted
in her course inch by inch. It is also difficult
to bring the imagination to conceive (what yet,
to judge tolerably of the matter, it is necessary
to conceive) how loose, if we may so express it,
the heavenly bodies are. Enormous globes, held
by nothing, confined by nothing, are turned
into free and boundless space, each to seek its
course by the virtue of an invisible principle ;
but a principle, one, common, and the same
in all; and ascertainable. To preserve such
bodies from being lost, from running together
in heaps, from hindering and distracting one
another's motions, in a degree inconsistent with
any continuing order ; h, e. to cause them to
form planetary systems, systems that, wheu.

ASTEOXOMY.

419

formed, can be upheld, and, most especially,
systems accommodated to the organized and
fciensitive natures which the planets sustain, as
we know to be the case, where alone we can
know what the case is, upon our earth : all this
requires an intelligent interposition, because it
can be demonstrated concerning it, that it re-
quires* an adjustment of force, distance, direction,
and velocity, out of the reach of chance to have
produced; an adjustment, in its view to utility,
similar to that which we see in ten thousand
subjects of nature which are nearer to us, but in
power, and in extent of space through which
that power is exerted, stupendous.

It is thus we are brought to the conclusion
that the grand and universal law of gravitation
cannot be reasonably supposed to have arisen
from some felicitous accident, or to have con-
tinued without purpose or design to govern the
force which holds the material universe together,
and is essential to its permanence and well-being.
The evidences of selection, adaptation, and ar-
rangement seem to show irresistibly that attrac-
tion itself is the offspring and instrument of a
superior agent ; that there is a power above the
highest of the powers of nature ; a will which
originates and circumscribes the operations of the
most extensive.

E e 2

420

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

CHAPTER XXIII.

OE THE PERSONALITY OF THE DEITY.

Contrivance, if established, appears to me to
prove everything which we wish to prove.
Amongst other things, it proves the personality
of the Deity, as distinguished from what is
sometimes called nature, sometimes called a
principle : which terms, in the mouths of those
who use them philosophically, seem to be in-
tended to admit and to express an efficacy, but
to exclude and to deny a personal agent. Now
that which can contrive, which can design, must
be a person. These capacities constitute per-
sonality, for they imply consciousness and
thought. They require that which can per-
ceive an end or purpose ; as well as the
power of providing means, and of directing
them to their end.^ They require a centre in
which perceptions unite and from which volitions
flow ; which is mind. The acts of a mind

1 Priestley’s Letters to a Philosopliical Unbeliever,
p. 153, ed. 2.

OF THE PERSONALITY OF THE DEITY. 421

prove the existence of a mind ; and in whatever
a mind resides, is a person. The seat of intel-
lect is a person. We have no authority to limit
the properties of mind to any particular cor-
poreal form, or to any particular circumscription of
space. These properties subsist in created nature
under a great variety of sensible forms. Also
every animated being has its sensorium, that is,
a certain portion of space, within which percep-
tion and volition are exerted. This sphere may
be enlarged to an indefinite extent ; may com-
prehend the universe ; and, being so imagined,
may serve to furnish us with as good a notion
as we are capable of forming, of the immensity
of the Divine Nature — i. e. of a Being, infinite,
as well in essence as in power ; yet nevertheless
a person.

No man hath seen God at any time.^^ And
this, I believe, makes the great difficulty. Now
it is a difficulty which chiefly arises from our
not duly estimating the state of our faculties.
The Deity, it is true, is the object of none
of our senses : but reflect what limited capacities
animal senses are. Many animals seem to have
but one sense, or perhaps two at the most ;
touch and taste. Ought such an animal to
conclude against the existence of odours, sounds,
and colours ? To another species is given the

422

NATUEAL THEOLOGY.

sense of smelling*. This is an advance in the
knowledge of the power and properties of
nature : but, if this favoured aniihal should
infer from its superiority over the class last
described, that it perceived everything which
was perceptible in nature, it is known to us,
though perhaps not suspected by the animal
itself, that it proceeded upon a false and pre-
sumptuous estimate of its faculties. To another
is added the sense of hearing ; which lets in a
class of sensations entirely unconceived by
the animal before spoken of; not only distinct,
but remote from any which it had ever ex-
perienced, and greatly superior to them. Yet
this last animal has no more ground for believing
that its senses comprehend all things, and all
properties of things, which exist, than might
have been claimed by the tribes of animals
beneath it ; for we know that it is still possible
to possess another sense, that of sight, which
shall disclose to the percipient a new world.
This fifth sense makes the animal what the
human animal is : but to infer that possibility
stops here; that either this fifth sense is the
last sense, or that the five comprehend all
existence, is just as unwarrantable a conclusion,
as that which might have been made by any of
the different species which possessed fewer, or

OF THE PERSONALITY OF THE DEITY. 423.

even by that, if such there be, which possessed
only one. The conclusion of the one-sense
animal, and the conclusion of the five-sense
animal, stand upon the same authority. There
may be more and other senses than those which
we have. There may be senses suited to the per-
ception of the powers, properties, and substance
of spirits. These may belong to higher orders
of rational agents : for there is not the smallest
reason for supposing that we are the highest, or
that the scale of creation stops with us.

The great energies of nature are known to us
only by their effects. The substances which
produce them are as much concealed from our
senses as the Divine Essence itself. Gravitation
though constantly present, though constantly
exerting its influence, though everywhere around
us, near us, and within us; though diffused
throughout all space, and penetrating the tex-
ture of all bodies with which we are acquainted,
depends, if upon a fluid, upon a fluid which,
though both powerful and universal in its opera-
tion, is no object of sense to us ; if upon any
other kind of substance or action, upon a sub-
stance and action from which we receive no dis-
tinguishable impressions. Is it then to be won-
dered at, that it should, in some measure, be the
same with the Divine Nature ?

424

NATURAL THEOLOGT.

Of this however we are certain^ that what-
ever the Deity be, neither the universe ^ nor any
part of it which we see, can be He. The uni-
verse itself is merely a collective name : its parts
are all which are real; or which are things.
Now inert matter is out of the question : and
organized substances include marks of con-
trivance. But whatever includes marks of con-
trivance— whatever, in its constitution, testifies
design, necessarily carries us to something be-
yond itself, to some other being, to a designer
prior to, and out of, itself. No animal, for in-
stance, can have contrived its own limbs and
senses ; can have been the author to itself of the
design with which they were constructed. That
supposition involves all the absurdity of self-
creation, i. e., of acting without existing. No-
thing can be God, which is ordered by a wisdom
and a will which itself is void of ; which is in-
debted for any of its properties to contrivance
ah extra. The not having that in his nature
which requires the exertion of another prior
being (which property is sometimes called self-
sufficiency, and sometimes self-comprehension),
appertains to the Deity, as his essential distinc-
tion, and removes his nature from that of all
things which we see. Which consideration con-
tains the answer to a question that has some-

OF THE PEFSOJfALITY OF THE DEITY. 425

times been asked, namely. Why, since something
or other must have existed from eternity, may
not the present universe be that something?
The contrivance perceived in it proves that to be
impossible. Nothing contrived can, in a strict
and proper sense, be eternal, forasmuch as the
contriver must have existed before the contriv-
ance.

Wherever we see marks of contrivance, we are
led for its cause to an intelligent author. And
this transition of the understanding is founded
upon uniform experience. We see intelligence
constantly contriving, that is, we see intelligence
constantly producing effects, marked and distin-
guished by certain properties ; not certain par-
ticular properties, but by a kind and class of
properties, such as relation to an end, relation of
parts to one another, and to a common purpose.
We see, wherever we are witnesses to the actual
formation of things, nothing except intelligence
producing effects so marked and distinguished.
Furnished with this experience, we view the
productions of nature. We observe them also
marked and distinguished in the same manner.
We wish to account for their origin. Our expe-
rience suggests a cause perfectly adequate to this
account. No experience, no single instance or
example can be offered in favour of any other.

426

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

In this cause therefore we ought to rest ; in this
cause the common sense of mankind has, in fact,
rested, because it agrees with that, which, in all
cases, is the foundation of knowledge, — the un-
deviating course of their experience. The reason-
ing is the same as that by which we conclude
any ancient appearances to have been the effects
of volcanoes or inundations, namely, because
they resemble the effects which fire and water
produce before our eyes ; and because we have
never known these effects to result from any
other operation. And this resemblance may
subsist in so many circumstances, as not to
leave us under the smallest doubt in forming
our opinion. Men are not deceived by this
reasoning : for whenever it happens, as it some-
times does happen, that the truth comes to be
known by direct information, it turns out to be
what was expected. In like manner, and upon the
same foundation (which in truth is that of ex-
perience), we conclude that the works of nature
proceed from intelligence and design, because, in
the properties of relation to a purpose, subser-
viency to a use, they resemble what intelligence
and design are constantly producing, and what
nothing except intelligence and design ever pro-
duce at all. Of every argument, which would
raise a question as to the safety of this reasoning.

OF THE PERSONALITY OF THE DEITY. 427

it may be observed, that if such argument be
listened to, it leads to the inference, not only
that the present order of nature is insufficient to
prove the existence of an intelligent Creator,
but that no imaginable order would be sufficient
to prove it ; that no contrivance, were it ever so
mechanical, ever so precise, ever so clear, ever so
perfectly like those which we ourselves employ,
would support this conclusion. A doctrine to
which I conceive no sound mind can assent.

The force, however, of the reasoning is some-
times sunk by our taking up with mere names.
We have already noticed,* and we must here
notice again, the misapplication of the term
law,^^ and the mistake concerning the idea
which that term expresses in physics, whenever
such idea is made to take the place of power, and
still more of an intelligent power, and as such,
is assigned for the cause of anything, or of
any property of anything that exists. This is
what we are secretly apt to do, when we speak of
organized bodies (plants for instance, or animals),
owing their production, their form, their growth,
their qualities, their beauty, their use, to any law
or laws of nature ; and when we are contented
to sit down with that answer to our inquiries
concerning them. I say once more, that it is a

2 Chap. I. sect. vii.

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

perversion of language to assign any law as the
efficient operative cause of anything. A law
presupposes an agents for it is only the mode
according to which an agent proceeds ; it implies
a power^ for it is the order according to which
that power acts. Without this agents without
this power, which are both distinct from itself,
the law does nothing ; is nothing.

What has been said concerning law holds
true of mechanism. Mechanism is not itself
power. Mechanism, without power, can do no-
thing. Let a watch be contrived and constructed
ever so ingeniously ; be its parts ever so many,
ever so complicated, ever so finely wrought or
artificially put together, it cannot go without a
weight or spring, i. e., without a force indepen-
dent of, and ulterior to, its mechanism. The
spring acting at the centre will produce dif-
ferent motions and different results, according
to the variety of the intermediate mechanism.
One and the self-same spring, acting in one and
the same manner, viz., by simply expanding
itself, may be the cause of a hundred different
and all useful movements, if a hundred different
and well-devised sets of wheels be placed' between
it and the final effect ; e. g. may point out the
hour of the day, the day of the month, the age
of the moon, the position of the planets, the

OF THE PERSONALITY OF THE DEITY. 429

cycle of the years^ and many other serviceable
notices; and these movements may fulfil their
purposes with more or less perfection^ according
as the mechanism is better or worse contrived^
or better or worse executed, or in a better or
worse state of repair ; hut in all cases it is neces-
sary that the spring act at the centre. The course
of our reasoning upon such a subject would be
this. By inspecting the watch, even when stand-
ing still, we get a proof of contrivance, and of a
contriving mind having been employed about it.
In the form and obvious relation of its parts, we
see enough to convince us of this. If we pull
the works in pieces, for the purpose of a closer
examination, we are still more fully convinced.
But when we see the watch going , we see proof
of another point, viz., that there is a power
somewhere, and somehow or other, applied to it ;
a power in action ; — that there is more in the
subject than the mere wheels of the machine ; —
that there is a secret spring, or a gravitating
plummet ; — in a word, that there is force and
energy, as well as mechanism.

So then, the watch in motion establishes to
the observer two conclusions : One, that thought,
contrivance and design have been employed in
the forming, proportioning and arranging of
its parts ; and that whoever or wherever he

430

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

be or were, such a contriver there is or was :
The other, that force or power, distinct from
mechanism, is at this present time acting upon
it. If I saw a hand-mill even at rest, I should
see contrivance ; but if I saw it grinding, I
should be assured that a hand was at the wind-
lass, though in another room. It is the same
in nature. In the works of nature we trace
mechanism ; and this alone proves contrivance :
but living, active, moving, productive nature
proves also the exertion of a power at the centre :
for wherever the power resides may be deno-
minated the centre.

The intervention and disposition of what are
called second causes ” fall under the same ob-
servation. This disposition is or is not mecha-
nism, according as we can or cannot trace it by
our senses and means of examination. That is
all the difference there is ; and it is a difference
which respects our faculties, not the things
themselves. Now where the order of second
causes is mechanical, what is here said of me-
chanism strictly applies to it. But it would
be always mechanism (natural chemistry, for
instance, would be mechanism), if our senses
were acute enough to descry it. Neither me-
chanism therefore in the works of nature, nor
the intervention of what are called second causes

OF THE PERSONALITY OF THE DEITY. 431

(for I think that they are the same thing),
excuses the necessity of an agent distinct from
both.

If, in tracing these causes, it be said, that we
find certain general properties of matter which
have nothing in them that bespeaks intelligence,
I answer, that still the managing of these proper-
ties, the pointing, and directing them to the
uses which we see made of them, demands intel-
ligence in the highest degree. For example;
suppose animal secretions to be elective attrac-
tions, and that such and such attractions uni-
versally belong to such and such substances ;
in all which there is no intellect concerned ;
still the choice and collocation of these sub-
stances, the fixing upon right substances, and
disposing them in right places, must be an act
of intelligence. What mischief would follow,
were there a single transposition of the secre-
tory organs ; a single mistake in arranging the
glands which compose them !

There may be many second causes, and many
courses of second causes, one behind another,
between what we observe of nature and the
Deity : but there must be intelligence some-
where ; there must be more in nature than what
we see ; and amongst the things unseen, there
must be an intelligent, designing author. The

432

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

philosopher beholds with astonishment the pro-
duction of things around him. Unconscious
particles of matter take their stations, and
severally range themselves in an order, so as to
become collectively plants or animals, i. e. organ-
ized bodies, with parts bearing strict and evi-
dent relation to one another, and to the utility
of the whole : and it should seem that these
particles could not move in any other way than
as they do ; for they testify not the smallest
sign of choice, or liberty, or discretion. There
may be particular intelligent beings guiding
these motions in each case ; or they may be
the result of trains of mechanical dispositions,
fixed beforehand by an intelligent appointment,
and kept in action by a power at the centre.
But, in either case, there must be intelligence.

I The minds of most men are fond of what they
call a principle y and of the appearance of sim-
plicity, in accounting for phenomena. Yet this
principle, this simplicity, resides merely in the
name ; which name, after all, comprises perhaps
under it a diversified, multifarious, or progres-
sive operation, distinguishable into parts. The
power in organized bodies of producing bodies
like themselves, is one of thtrse principles. Give
a philosopher this, and he can get on. But he
does not reflect what this mode of production,

OF THE PERSONALITY OF THE OEITT^ 433

•this principle (if such he choose to call it)
requires ; how much it presupposes ; what an
apparatus of instruments, some of which are
strictly mechanical, is necessary to its success ;
what a train it includes of operations and
changes, one succeeding another, one related to
another, one ministering to another ; all ad-
vancing, by intermediate, and frequently, by
sensible steps, to their ultimate result ! Yet,
because the whole of this complicated action
is wrapped up in a single term, generation^ we
are to set it down as an elementary prineiple :
and to suppose, that when we have resolved the
things whieh we see into this principle, we
have sufficiently accounted for their origin,
without the necessity of a designing, intelligent
Creator. The truth is, generation is not a
principle, but a process. We might as well
call the casting of metals a principle ; we might,
so far as appears to me, as well call spinning
and weaving principles : and then, referring the
texture of cloths, the fabric of muslins and
calicoes, the patterns of diapers and damasks
to these, as prineiples, pretend to dispense with
intention, thought, and contrivance on the
part of the artist ; or to dispense, indeed, with
the necessity of any artist at all, either in the
manufacturing of the article, or in the fabrica-

434

NATUEAL THEOLOGY.

tion of the machinery by which the manufacture
was carried on.

And after all, how, or in what sense, is it
true that animals produce their lihe ? A but-
terfly, with a proboscis instead of a mouth, with
four wings and six legs, produces a hairy cater-
pillar, with jaws and teeth and fourteen feet.
A frog produces a tadpole. A black beetle,
with gauze wings, and a crusty covering, pro-
duces a white, smooth, soft worm; an ephemeron
fly, a cod-bait maggot. These, by a progress
through difierent stages of life, and action, and
enjoyment (and in each state provided with
implements and organs appropriated to the tem-
porary nature which they bear), arrive at last
at the form and fashion of the parent animal.
But all this is process, not principle ; and
proves, moreover, that the property of animated
bodies, of producing their like, belongs to them,
not as a primordial property, not by any blind
necessity in the nature of things, but as the
effect of economy, wisdom, and design ; because
the property itself assumes diversities, and sub-
mits to deviations dictated by intelligible utili-
ties, and serving distinct purposes of animal
happiness.

The opinion, which would consider genera-
lion^^ as a 'principle in nature; and which

or THE PERSONALITY OF THE DEITY. 435

would assign this principle as the cause, or
endeavour to satisfy our minds with such a
cause, of the existence of organized bodies, is
confuted, in my judgment, not only by every
mark of contrivance discoverable in those bodies,
for which it gives us no contriver, offers no
account whatever ; but also by the farther con-
sideration, that things generated possess a clear
relation to things not generated. If it were
merely one part of a generated body bearing a
relation to another part of the same body, as
the mouth of an animal to the throat, the
throat to the stomach, the stomach to the intes-
tines, those to the recruiting of the blood, and
by means of the blood, to the nourishment of
the whole frame : or if it were only one gene-
rated body bearing relation to another gene-
rated body, as the sexes of the same species to
each other, animals of prey to their prey,
herbivorous and granivorous animals to the
plants or seeds upon which they feed, it might
be contended that the whole of this correspond-
ency was attributable to generation, the common
origin from which these substances proceeded.
But what shall we say to agreements which
exist between things generated and things
not generated ? Can it be doubted, was it ever
doubted, but that the lungs of animals bear a
F f 2

436

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

relation to the air, as a permanently elastic
fluid ? They act in it and by it ; they cannot
act without it. Now, if generation produced
the animal, it did not produce the air : yet their
properties correspond. The eye is made for
light, and light for the eye. The eye would be
of no use without light, and light would lose
one of its chief uses without eyes ; yet one is
produced by generation ; the other not. The
ear depends upon undulations of air. Here are
two sets of motions ; first, of the pulses of the
air ; secondly, of the drum membrane and
bones of the ear ; sets of motions bearing an
evident reference to each other : yet the one,
and the apparatus for the one, produced by the
intervention of generation ; the other altogether
independent of it.

If it be said, that the air, the light, the ele-
ments, the world itself, is generated ; I answer,
that I do not comprehend the proposition. If
the term mean anything, similar to what it
means when applied to plants or animals, the
proposition is certainly without proof; and, I
think, draws as near to absurdity as any proposi-
tion can do, which does not include a contradic-
tion in its terms. I am at a loss to conceive,
how the formation of the world can be compared
to the generation of an animal. If the term

OF THE PEESONALITY OF THE DEITY. 437

generation signify something quite different
from what it signifies on ordinary occasions, it
may, by the same latitude, signify anything.
In which case, a word or phrase taken from the
language of Otaheite, would convey as much
theory concerning the origin of the universe, as
it does to talk of its being generated.

We know a cause (intelligence) adequate to
the appearances, which we wish to account for :
we have this cause continually producing similar
appearances : yet rejecting this cause, the sufii-
ciency of which we know, and the action of
which is constantly before our eyes, we are
invited to resort to suppositions destitute of a
single fact for their support, and confirmed by
no analogy with which we are acquainted. Were
it necessary to inquire into the motives of men'^s
opinions, I mean their motives separate from
their arguments, I should almost suspect, that,
because the proof of a Deity drawn from the
constitution of nature is not only popular but
vulgar (which may arise from the cogency of the
proof, and be indeed its highest recommendation),
and because it is a species almost of puerility to
take up with it ; for these reasons, minds, which
are habitually in search of invention and origin-
ality, feel a resistless inclination to strike off into
other solutions and other expositions. The truth

438

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

is^ that many minds are not so indisposed to any-
thing which can be offered to them, as they are
to the flatness of being content with common
reasons : and, what is most to be lamented,
minds conscious of superiority are the most
liable to this repugnancy.

The suppositions here alluded to all agree
in one character ; they all endeavour to dispense
with the necessity, in nature, of a particular,
personal intelligence ; that is to say, with the
exertion of an intending, contriving mind, in the
structure and formation of the organized consti-
tutions which the world contains. They would
resolve all productions into unconscious energies,
of a like kind, in that respect, with attraction,
magnetism, electricity, &c., without anything
further.

In this the old system of atheism and the new
agree. And I much doubt whether the new
schemes have advanced anything upon the old, or
done more than changed the terms of the nomen-
clature. For instance, I could never see the
difference between the antiquated system of
atoms and Buffon^s organic molecules. This
philosopher, having made a planet by knocking
off from the sun a piece of melted glass, in
consequence of the stroke of a comet ; and having
set it in motion by the same stroke, both round

OF THE PERSONALITY OP THE DEITY. 439

its own axis and the sun, finds his next difficulty
to be, how to bring plants and animals upon it.
In order to solve this difiiculty, we are to suppose
the universe replenished with particles endowed
with life, but without organization or senses of
their own ; and endowed also with a tendency
to marshal themselves into organized forms.
The concourse of these particles, by virtue of
this tendency, but without intelligence, will, or
direction (for I do not find that any of these
qualities are ascribed to them), has produced the
living forms which we now see.

Very few of the conjectures, which philo-
sophers hazard upon these subjects, have more of
pretension in them, than the challenging you to
show the direct impossibility of the hypothesis.
In the present example, there seemed to be a
positive objection to the whole scheme upon the
very face of it ; which was that, if the case were
as here represented, new combinations ought to
be perpetually taking place ; new plants and
animals, or organized bodies which were neither,
ought to be starting up before our eyes every day.
For this, however, our philosopher has an
answer. Whilst so many forms of plants and
animals are already in existence, and, conse-
quently, so many internal moulds,^^ as he calls
them, are prepared and at hand, the organic

440

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

particles run into these moulds, and are employed
in supplying an accession of substance to them,
as well for their growth as for their propagation.
By which means things keep their ancient
course. But, says the same philosopher, should
any general loss or destruction of the present
constitution of organized bodies take place, the
particles, for want of moulds^^ into which
they might enter, would run into different
combinations, and replenish the waste with new
species of organized substances.

Is there any history to countenance this
notion ? Is it known, that any destruction has
been so repaired ? any desert thus re-peopled ?

So far as I remember, the only natural appear-
ance mentioned by our author, by way of fact
whereon to build his hypothesis, is the formation
of worms in the intestines of animals, which is
here ascribed to the coalition of superabundant
organic particles, floating about in the first
passages ; and which have combined themselves
into these simple animal forms, for want of
internal moulds, or of vacancies in those moulds
into which they might be received. The thing
referred to is rather a species of facts, than a
single fact ; as some other cases may, with equal
reason, be included under it. But to make it a
fact at all, or in any sort applicable to the

OF THE PERSONALITY OF THE DEITY. 441

question^ we must begin with asserting an
equivocal generation, contrary to analogy, and
without necessity : contrary to an analogy
which accompanies us to the very limits of our
knowledge or inquiries ; for wherever, either in
plants or animals, we are able to examine the
subject, we find procreation from a parent form :
without necessity ; for I apprehend that it is
seldom difficult to suggest methods, by which
the eggs, or spawn, or yet invisible rudiments
of these vermin, may have obtained a passage
into the cavities in which they are found.*
Add to this, that their constancy to their species^
which I believe, is as regular in these as in
the other vermes, decides the question against
our philosopher, if in truth any question re-
mained upon the subject.

Lastly; these wonder-working instruments,
these internal moulds,^^ what are they after
all ? what, when examined, but a name without
signification ; unintelligible, if not self-contradic-
tory ! at the best, differing in nothing from the
‘^essential forms of the Greek philosophy?

3 I trust I may be excused, for not citing, as another
fact which is to confirm the hypothesis, a grave assertion
of this writer, that the branches of trees upon which the
stag feeds break out again in his horns. Such jacts merit
no discussion.

443

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

One short sentence of Buffon^s work exhibits his
scheme as follows : When this nutritious and
prolific matter, which is diffused throughout all
nature, passes through the internal mould of an
animal or vegetable, and finds a proper matrix,
or receptacle, it gives rise to an animal or vege-
table of the same species.’’ Does any reader
annex a meaning to the expression internal
mould,” in this sentence ? Ought it then to be
said, that though we have little notion of an
internal mould, we have not much more of a
designing mind? The very contrary of this
assertion is the truth. When we speak of an
artificer or an architect, we talk of what is
comprehensible to our understanding, and
familiar to our experience. We use no other
terms, than what refer us for their meaning to
our consciousness and observation ; what express
the constant objects of both; whereas names,
like that we have mentioned, refer us to nothing ;
excited no idea ; convey a sound to the ear, but
I think do no more.

Another system, which has lately been brought
forward, and with much ingenuity, is that of
appetencies. The principle, and the short account
of the theory, is this : Pieces of soft, ductile
matter, being endued with propensities or
appetencies for particular actions, would, by

OF THE PERSONALITY OF THE DEITY. 443

continual endeavours^ carried on through a long
series of generations^ work themselves gradually
into suitable forms ; and at length acquire,
though perhaps by obscure and almost imper-
ceptible improvements, an organization fitted to
the action which their respective propensities led
them to exert. A piece of animated matter, for
example, that was endued with a propensity to
fiy, though ever so shapeless, though no other
we will suppose than a round ball, to begin with,
would, in a course of ages, if not in a million of
years, perhaps in a hundred millions of years
(for our theorists, having eternity to dispose of,
are never sparing in time), acquire wings. The
same tendency to locomotion in an aquatic
animal, or rather in an animated lump which
might happen to be surrounded by water, would
end in the production of fins: in a living
substance, confined to the solid earth, would put
out legs sinAfeet ; or, if it took a different turn,
would break the body into ringlets, and conclude
by crawling upon the ground.

Although I have introduced the mention of
this theory into this place, I am unwilling to
give to it the name of an atheistic scheme, for
two reasons ; first, because, so far as I am able
to understand it, the original propensities, and
the numberless varieties of them (so different in

444

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

this respect^ from the laws of mechanical nature,
which are few and simple), are in the plan
itself attributed to the ordination and appoint-
ment of an intelligent and designing Creator :
secondly, because, likewise, that large postu-
latum, which is all along assumed and presup-
posed, the faculty in living bodies of producing
other bodies organized like themselves, seems to
be referred to the same cause; at least is not
attempted to be accounted for by any other. In
one important respect, however, the theory
before us coincides with atheistic systems, viz.
in that, in the formation of plants and animals,
in the structure and use of their parts, it does
away final causes. Instead of the parts of a
plant or animal, or the particular structure of
the parts, having been intended for the action
or the use to which we see them applied, accord-
ing to this theory, they have themselves grown
out of that action, sprung from that use. The
theory therefore dispenses with that which we
insist upon, the necessity, in each particular
case, of an intelligent, designing mind, for the
contriving and determining of the forms which
organized bodies bear. Give our philosopher
these appetencies ; give him a portion of
living irritable matter (a nerve, or the clipping
of a nerve), to work upon; give also to his

OF THE PERSOJfALITY OP THE DEITY. 445

incipient or progressive forms, the power, in
every stage of their alteration, of propagating
their like ; and, if he is to be believed, he
could replenish the world with all the vegetable
and animal productions which we at present
see in it.

The scheme under consideration is open to
the same objection with other conjectures of a
similar tendency, viz. a total defect of evidence.
No changes, like those which the theory re-
quires, have ever been observed. All the
changes in Ovid^s Metamorphoses might have
been effected by these appetencies, if the theory
were true : yet not an example, nor the pretence
of an example, is offered of a single change
being known to have taken place. Nor is the
order of generation obedient to the principle
upon which this theory is built. The mammae
of the male have not vanished by inusitation ;
nec cnrtorum^ per miiUa soecula Judoeorum pro^
pagini deest prcepiitmm. It is easy to say,
and it has been said, that the alterative pro-
cess is too slow to be perceived ; that it has
been carried on through tracts of immeasur-
able time ; and that the present order of
things is the result of a gradation, of which
no human record can trace the steps. It is
easy to say this ; and yet it is still true^ that

446

NATUEAL THEOLOGY.

the hypothesis remains destitute of satisfactory
evidence.'^

The analogies which have been alleged are ol
the following kind : The hunch of a camel is

GROUP OP CAMELS.

said to be no other than the effect of carrying
burdens ; a service in which the species has
been employed from the most ancient times of
the world. The first race, by the daily loading
of the back, would probably find a small tumour

* The reader is referred to the “ Introduction.”

OF THE PERSONALITY OF THE DEITY. 447

to be formed in the flesh of that part. The next
progeny would bring this tumour into the
world with them. The life to which they were
destined would increase it. The cause which
first generated the tubercle being continued^ it
would go on, through every succession, to
augment its size, till it attained the form
and the bulk under which it now appears.
This may serve for one instance ; another, and
that also of the passive sort, is taken from
certain species of birds. Birds of the crane kind,
as the crane itself, the heron, bittern, stork,
have, in general, their thighs bare of feathers.
This privation is accounted for from the habit
of wading in water, and from the effect of that
element to check the growth of feathers upon
these parts : in consequence of which, the health
and development of the feathers declined through
each generation of the animal ; the tender
down, exposed to cold and wetness, became
weak, and thin, and rare, till the deterioration
ended in the result, which we see, of absolute
nakedness. I will mention a third instance,
because it is drawn from an active habit, as the
two last were from passive habits ; and that is
the pouch of the pelican. The description which
naturalists give of this organ is as follows :

From the lower edges of the under chap

448

NA.TURAL THEOLOGY,

hangs a bag, reaching from the whole length
of the bill to the neck, which is said to be
capable of containing fifteen quarts of water.
This bag the bird has a power of wrinkling up

PELICANS.

into the hollow of the under-chap. When the
bag is empty it is not seen ; but when the bird
has fished with success, it is incredible to what
an extent it is often dilated. The first thing

OF THE PERSONALITY OP THE DEITY. 449

the pelican does in fishing is to fill the bag ;
and then it returns to digest its burden at
leisure. The bird preys upon the large fishes,
and hides them by dozens in its pouch. When
the bill is opened to its widest extent^ a
person may run his head into the bird^s mouth ;
and conceal it in this monstrous pouchy thus
adapted for very singular purposes. Now this
extraordinary conformation is nothing more,
say our philosophers, than the result of habit ;
not of the habit or effort of a single pelican, or
of a single race of pelicans, but of a habit per-
petuated through a long series of generations.
The pelican soon found the conveniency of
reserving in its mouth, when its appetite was
glutted, the remainder of its prey, which is
fish. The fulness, produced by this attempt,
of course stretched the skin which lies between
the underchaps, as being the most yielding
part of the mouth. Every distension increased
the cavity. The original bird, and many gene-
rations which succeeded him, might find diffi-
culty enough in making the pouch answer
this purpose ; but future pelicans, entering
upon life with a pouch derived from their pro-
genitors, of considerable capacity, would more
readily accelerate its advance to perfection,
by frequently pressing down the sac with the

G g

450

NATUEAL THEOLOGY.

weight of fish which it might now be made to
contain.

These^ or of this kind, are the analogies
relied upon. Now, in the first place, the in-
stances themselves are unauthenticated by tes-
timony ; and in theory, to say the least of them,
open to great objections. Who ever read of
camels without bunches, or with bunches less
than those with which they are at present usually
formed ? A bunch, not unlike the cameks, is
found between the shoulders of the buffalo;
of the origin of which it is impossible to give
the account here given. In the second example ;
why should the application of water, which
appears to promote and thicken the growth of
feathers upon the bodies and breasts of geese
and swans, and other water- fowls, have divested
of this covering the thighs of cranes? The
third instance, which appears to me as plausible
as any that can be produced, has this against it,
that it is a singularity restricted to the species ;
whereas, if it had its commencement in the
cause and manner which have been assigned,
the like conformation might be expected to
take place in other birds which feed upon fish.
How comes it to pass, that the pelican alone
was the inventress, and her descendants the only
inheritors, of this curious resource ?

OF THE PERSONALITY OF THE DEITY. 451

But it is the less necessary to controvert the
instances themselves^ as it is a straining of
analogy beyond all limits of reason and credi-
bility, to assert that birds, and beasts, and fish,
with all their variety and complexity of organi-
zation, have been brought into their forms,
and distinguished into their several kinds and
natures, by the same process (even if that
process could be demonstrated, or had it ever
been actually noticed), as might seem to serve
for the gradual generation of a cameFs bunch,
or a pelican^s pouch.

The solution, when applied to the works of
nature generally, is contradicted by many of
the phenomena, and totally inadequate to others.
The ligaments or strictures, by which the tendons
are tied down at the angles of the joints, could
by no possibility be formed by the motion or
exercise of the tendons themselves ; by any
appetency exciting these parts into action ; or
by any tendency arising therefrom. The ten-
dency is all the other way ; the conatus in con-
stant opposition to them. Length of time does
not help the case at all, but the reverse. The
valves also, in the blood-vessels, could never be
formed in the manner which our theorist pro-
poses. The blood, in its right and natural
course, has no tendency to form them. When
G g a

452

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

obstructed or refl iient^ it lias the contrary. These
parts could not grow out of their use, though
they had eternity to grow in.

The senses of animals appear to me altogether
incapable of receiving the explanation of their
origin which this theory affords. Including
under the word sense the organ and the per-
ception, we have no account of either. How
will our philosopher get at vision, or make an
eye ? How should the blind animal affect sight,
of which blind animals, we know, have neither
conception nor desire? Affecting it, by what
operation of its will, by what endeavour to see,
could it so determine the fluids of its body, as
to inchoate the formation of an eye ? or, suppose
the eye formed, would the perception follow ?
The same of the other senses. And this objec-
tion holds its force, ascribe what you will to the
hand of time, to the power of habit, to changes
too slow to be observed by man, or brought
within any comparison which he is able to make
of past things with the present : concede what
you please to these arbitrary and unattested
suppositions, how will they help you ? Here is
no inception. No laws, no course, no powers
of nature which prevail at present, nor any
analogous to these would give commencement
to a new sense. And it is in vain to inquire.

OF THE PERSONALITY OF THE DEITY. 453

how that might proceed which could never
begin,

I think the senses to be the most inconsistent
with the hypothesis before us^ of any part of
the animal frame. But other parts are suf-
ficiently so. The solution does not apply to the
parts of animals which have little in them of
motion. If we could suppose joints and muscles
to be gradually formed by action and exercise,
what action or exercise could form a skull, or
fill it with brains? No effort of the animal
could determine the clothing of its skin. What
conatus could give prickles to the porcupine or
hedgehog, or to the sheep its fleece ?

In the last place ; What do these appetencies
mean when applied to plants ? I am not able
to give a signification to the term, which can
be transferred from animals to plants ; or which
is common to both. Yet a no less successful
organization is found in plants, than what
obtains in animals. A solution is wanted for
one as well as the other.

Upon the whole ; after all the schemes and
struggles of a reluctant philosophy, the neces-
sary resort is to a Deity. The marks of design
are too strong to be gotten over. Design must
have had a designer. That designer must have
been a person. That person is God.

454

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

CHAPTER XXIV.

OF THE NATURAL ATTRIBUTES OF THE DEITY.

It is an immense conclusion^ that there is a
God; a perceiving, intelligent, designing, Being;
at the head of creation, and from whose will
it proceeded. The attributes of such a Being,
suppose His reality to be proved, must be ade-
quate to the magnitude, extent, and multiplicity
of his operations : which are not only vast
beyond comparison with those performed by
any other power, but, so far as respects our
conceptions of them, infinite, because they are
unlimited on all sides.

Yet the contemplation of a nature so exalted^
however surely we arrive at the proof of its
existence, overwhelms our faculties. The mind
feels its powers sink under the subject. One
consequence of which is, that from painful
abstraction the thoughts seek relief in sensible
images. Whence may be deduced the ancient.

THE NATURAL ATTRIBUTES OE THE DEITY, 455

and almost universal propensity to idolatrous
substitutions. They are the resources of a
* labouring imagination. False religions usually
fall in with the natural propensity ; true
religions, or such as have derived themselves
from the true, resist it.

It is one of the advantages of the revelations
which we acknowledge, that, whilst they reject
idolatry with its many pernicious accompani-
ments, they introduce the Deity to human
apprehension, under an idea more personal,
more determinate, more within its compass,
than the theology of nature can do. And this
they do by representing Him exclusively under
the relation in which He stands to ourselves ;
and, for the most part, under some precise
character, resulting from that relation, or from
the history of His providences. Which method
suits the span of our intellects much better than
the universality which enters into the idea of
God, as deduced from the views of nature.
When, therefore, these representations are well
founded in point of authority (for all depends
upon that), they afford a condescension to the
state of our faculties, of which they who have
most reflected on the subject will be the first
to acknowledge the want and the value.

Nevertheless, if we be careful to imitate the

456

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

documents of our religion, by confining our
explanations to what concerns ourselves, and do
not affect more precision in our ideas than the
subject allows of, the several terms which are
employed to denote the attributes of the Deity
may be made, even in natural religion, to bear
a sense consistent with truth and reason, and
not surpassing our comprehension.

These terms are; Omnipotence, omniscience,
omnipresence, eternity, self-existence, necessary
existence, spirituality.

Omnipotence,'^^ omniscience,^^ infinite
power, infinite knowledge, are superlatives ;
expressing our conception of these attributes in
the strongest and most elevated terms which
language supplies. We ascribe power to the
Deity under the name of omnipotence,^^ the
strict and correct conclusion being, that a power
which could create such a world as this is, must
be, beyond all comparison, greater than any
which we experience in ourselves, than any which
we observe in other visible agents ; greater also
than any which we can want, for our individual
protection and preservation, in the Being upon
whom we depend. It is a power, likewise, to
which we are not authorized, by our observa-
tion or knowledge, to assign any limits of space
or dui'ation.

THE NA.TUEAL ATTRIBUTES OF THE DEITY. 457

Very much of the same sort of remark is
applicable to the term omniscience/^ infinite
knowledge, or infinite wisdom. In strictness
of language, there is a difference between
knowledge and wisdom; wisdom always sup-
posing action, and action directed by it. With
respect to the first, viz. knowledge, the Creator
must know, intimately, the constitution and
properties of the things which He created ;
which seems also to imply a foreknowledge of
their action upon one another, and of their
changes ; at least, so far as the same result
from trains of physical and necessary causes.
His omniscience also, as far as respects things
present, is deducible from His nature, as an
intelligent being, joined with the extent, or
rather the universality, of His operations.
Where He acts He is ; and where He is. He
perceives. The wisdom of the Deity, as testified
in the works of creation, surpasses all idea we
have of wisdom, drawn from the highest intel-
lectual operations of the highest class of intel-
ligent beings with whom we are acquainted;
and, which is of the chief importance to us,
whatever be its compass or extent, which it is
evidently impossible that we should be able to
determine, it must be adequate to the conduct of
that order of things under which we live. And

458

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

tliis is enougli. It is of very inferior conse-
quence by what terms we express our notion^ or
rather our admiration^ of this attribute. The
terms^ which the piety and the usage of language
have rendered habitual to us^ may be as proper
as any other. We can trace this attribute much
beyond what is necessary for any conclusion to
which we have occasion to apply it. The degree
of knowledge and power, requisite for the forma-
tion of created nature, cannot, with respect to
us, be distinguished from infinite.

The Divine ‘^omnipresence stands, in natural
theology, upon this foundation. In every part
and place of the universe with which we are
acquainted, we perceive the exertion of a
power, which we believe, mediately or imme-
diately, to proceed from the Deity. For in-
stance ; in what part or point of space, that has
ever been explored, do we not discover attrac-
tion ? In what regions do we not find light ?
In what accessible portion of our globe do we
not meet with gravity, magnetism, electricity;
together with the properties also and powers of
organized substances, of vegetable or of animated
nature ? Nay further, we may ask, what
kingdom is there of nature, what corner of
space, in which there is anything that can
be examined by us, where we do not fall upon

THE NATURAL ATTRIBUTES OF THE DEITY. 459

contrivance and design? The only reflection,
perhaps, which arises in our minds from this
view of the world around us is, that the laws
of nature everywhere prevail ; that they are
uniform and universal. But what do we mean
by the laws of nature, or by any law ? Effects
are produced by power, not by laws. A law
cannot execute itself. A law refers us to an
agent. Now an agency so general, as that we
cannot discover its absence, or assign the place
in which some effect of its continued energy is
not found, may, in popular language at least,
and, perhaps, without much deviation from
philosophical strictness, be called universal ;
and, with not quite the same, but with no
inconsiderable propriety, the person, or Being,
in whom that power resides, or from whom it is
derived, may be taken to be omnipresent. He
who upholds all things by His power may be
said to be everywhere present.

This is called a virtual presence. There is
also what metaphysicians denominate an essen-
tial ubiquity ; and which idea the language of
Scripture seems to favour : but the former, I
think, goes as far as natural theology carries us.
Eternity is a negative idea, clothed with a
positive name. It supposes, in that to which
it is applied, a present existence; and is the

460

Statural theology.

negation of a beginning or an end of that exis-
tence. As applied to the Deity, it has not
been controverted by those who acknowledge a
Deity at all. Most assuredly there never was
a time in which nothing existed^ because that
condition must have continued. The universal
hlanh must have remained ; nothing could rise
up out of it; nothing could ever have existed
since; nothing could exist now. In strictness,
however, we have no concern with duration
prior to that of the visible world. Upon this
article, therefore, of theology, it is sufficient to
know that the contriver necessarily existed
before the contrivance.

Self-existence^^ is another negative idea, viz.
the negation of a preceding cause, as of a pro-
genitor, a maker, an author, a creator.

Necessary existence means demonstrable
existence.

Spirituality expresses an idea, made up of
a negative part and of a positive part. The
negative part consists in the exclusion of some
of the known properties of matter, especially of
solidity, of the vu inerticBy and of gravitation.
The positive part comprises perception, thought,
will, power, action, by which last term is meant,
the origination of motion ; the quality, perhaps,
in which resides the essential superiority of spirit

THE NATURAL ATTRIBUTES OF THE DEITY. 461

over matter, which cannot move, unless it be
moved ; and cannot but move, when impelled
by another/^ ^ I apprehend that there can be
no difficulty in applying to the Deity both parts
of this idea.

1 Bishop Wilkin’s Principles of Natural Religion, p. 106.

462

NATUUAL THEOLOGY.

CHAPTEU XXV.

THE UNITY OF THE DEITY.

Of the Unity of the Deity/^ the proof is^ the
uniformity of plan observable in the universe.
The universe itself is a system ; each part either
depending upon other parts^ or being connected
with other parts by some common law of
motion^ or by the presence of some common
substance. One principle of gravitation causes
a stone to drop towards the earthy and the moon
to wheel round it. One law of attraction carries
all the different planets about the sun. This
philosophers demonstrate. There are also other
points of agreement amongst them^ which may
be considered as marks of the identity of their
origin^ and of their intelligent author. In all
are found the conveniency and stability derived
from gravitation. They all experience vicissi-
tudes of days and nights, and changes of season.
They all, at least Jupiter, Mars, and Venus,

THE UNITY OF THE DEITY.

463

have the same advantages from their atmosphere
as we have. In all the planets the axes of
rotation are permanent. Nothing is more prob-
able than that the same attracting influence^
acting according to the same rule^ reaches to
the fixed stars.

The undulations of lights too, which the
sun produces are similar in character to those
excited by the fixed stars. And it has been
shown by the examination of this light of the
fixed stars that they are bodies like our sun in
constitution and in a high state of combustion.
The heat of the sun, in kind, w^e know, too,
differs nothing from the heat of a coal fire.

In our own globe the case is clearer. New
countries are continually discovered, but the
old laws of nature are always found in them :
new plants perhaps, or animals, but always in
company with plants and animals which we
already know ; and always possessing many of
the same general properties. We never get
amongst such original, or totally different,
modes of existence, as to indicate that we are
come into the province of a different Creator, or
under the direction of a different will. In truth,
the same order of things attends us wherever we
go. The elements act upon one another, elec-
tricity operates, the tides rise and fall, the

464

SIATURAL THEOLOGY.

magnetic needle elects its position in one region
of the earth and sea as well as in another.
One atmosphere invests all parts of the globe,
and connects all ; one sun illuminates ; one
moon exerts its specific attraction upon all parts.
If there be a variety in natural effects, as, e.g.
in the tides of different seas, that very variety
is the result of the same cause, acting under
different circumstances. In many cases this is
proved; in all is probable.

The inspection and comparison of living forms
add to this argument examples without number.
Of all large terrestrial animals the structure is
very much alike ; their senses nearly the same ;
their natural functions and passions nearly the
same ; their viscera nearly the same, both in
substance, shape, and office : digestion, nutrition
circulation, secretion go on, in a similar man-
ner, in all ; the great circulating fluid is the
same ; for, I think, but trifling difference has
been discovered in the properties of bloody from
whatever animal it be drawn. The sheletons
also of the larger terrestrial animals show par-
ticular varieties, but still under a great general
affinity. The resemblance is somewhat less, yet
sufiiciently evident, between quadrupeds and
birds. They are all alike in five respects, for
one in which they differ.

THE UNITY OF THE DEITY.

465

In fishy which belong to another department,
as it were, of nature, the points of comparison
become fewer. But we never lose sight of our
analogy, e.g. we still meet with a stomach, a
liver, a spine ; with bile and blood ; with teeth ;
with eyes (which eyes are only slightly varied
from our own, and which variation, in truth,
demonstrates not an interruption but a con-
tinuance of the same exquisite plan; for it is
the adaptation of the organ to the element, viz.
to the different refraction of light passing into
the eye out of a denser medium) . The provinces,
also, themselves of water and earth, are con-
nected by the species of animals which inhabit
both ; and also by a large tribe of aquatic
animals, which closely resemble the terrestrial
in their internal structure ; I mean the cetaceous
tribe, which have hot blood, respiring lungs,
bowels, and other essential parts, like those of
land animals. This similitude, surely, bespeaks
the same creation and the same Creator.

Insects and shellfish appear to me to differ
from other classes of animals the most widely
of any. Yet even here, beside many points of
particular resemblance, there exists a general
relation of a peculiar kind. It is the relation of
inversion ; the law of contrariety : namely, that,
whereas, in other animals the bones to which

H h

466

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

the muscles are attached lie within the body ;
in insects and shell-fish they lie on the outside
of it. The shell of a lobster performs to the
animal the office of a lone, by furnishing to the
tendons that fixed basis or immoveable fulcrum,
without which, mechanically, they could not
act. The crust of an insect is its shell, and
answers the like purpose. The shell also of an
oyster stands in the place of a hone ; the bases
of the muscles being fixed to it, in the same
manner as, in other animals, they are fixed to
the bones. All which (under wonderful varie-
ties, indeed, and adaptations of form) confesses
an imitation, a remembrance, a carrying on, of
the same plan.

The observations here made are equally appli-
cable to plants ; but, I think, unnecessary to
be pursued. It is a very striking circumstance,
and alone suflicient to prove all which we
contend for, that, in this part likewise of
organized nature, we perceive a continuation of
the sexual system.

Certain however it is, that the whole argu-
ment for the divine unity goes no further than
to a unity of counsel.

It may likewise be acknowledged, that no
arguments which we are in possession of
exclude the ministry of subordinate agents. If

THE UNITY OF THE DEITY.

467

such there be, they act under a presiding, a
controlling will ; because they act according to
certain general restrictions, by certain common
rules, and, as it should seem, upon a general
plan : but still such agents, and different ranks,
and classes, and degrees of them, may be
employed*

H h 2

468

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

CHAPTER XXVI.

THE GOODNESS OF THE DEITY.

The proof of the divine goodness rests upon two
propositions : each^ as we contend, capable of
being made out by observations drawn from the
appearances of nature.

The first is that, in a vast plurality of
instances in which contrivance is perceived the
design of the contrivance is lenejicial.^^

The second, that the Deity has superadded
2)leasure to animal sensations, beyond what was
necessary for any other purpose, or when the
purpose, so far as it was necessary, might have
been effected by the operation of pain.^^

First, ^^in a vast plurality of instances in
which contrivance is perceived, the design of
the contrivance is heneficial,^^

No production of nature displays contrivance
so manifestly as the parts of animals ; and the
parts of animals have all of them, I believe, a

THE GOODNESS OF THE DEITY.

469

real, and with very few exceptions, all of them
a known and intelligible subserviency to the
use of the animal. Now, when the multitude
of animals is considered, the number of parts
in each, their figure and fitness, the faculties
depending upon them, the variety of species,
the complexity of structure, the success, in so
many cases, and felicity of the result, we can
never reflect, without the profoundest adoration,
upon the character of that Being from whom all
these things have proceeded : we cannot help
acknowledging what an exertion of bene-
volence creation was ; of a benevolence how
minute in its care, how vast in its compre-
hension !

When we appeal to the parts and faculties of
animals, and to the limbs and senses of animals
in particular, we state, I conceive, the proper
medium of proof for the conclusion which we
wish to establish. I will not say that the
insensible parts of nature are made solely for the
sensitive parts : but this I say, that, when we
consider the benevolence of the Deity, we can
only consider it in relation to sensitive being.
Without this reference or referred to anything
else, the attribute has no object ; the term has
no meaning. Dead matter is nothing. The
parts, therefore, especially the limbs and senses

470

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

of animals^ although they constitute, in mass
and quantity, a small portion of the material
creation, yet, since they alone are instruments
of perception, they compose what may be called
the whole of visible nature, estimated with a
view to the disposition of its Author. Conse-
quently, it is in these that we are to seek his
character. It is by these that we are to prove
that the world was made with a benevolent
design.

Nor is the design abortive. It is a happy
world after all. The air, the earth, the water,
teem with delighted existence. In a spring
noon, or a summer evening, on whichever side
I turn my eyes, myriads of happy beings crowd
upon my view. The insect youth are on the
wing."^*^ Swarms of new-born files are trying
their pinions in the air. Their sportive motions,
their wanton mazes, their gratuitous activity,
their continual change of place without use or
purpose, testify their joy, and the exultation
which they feel in their lately discovered
faculties. A hee amongst the flowers in spring
is one of the most cheerful objects that can be
looked upon. Its life appears to be all enjoy-
ment ; so busy, and so pleased : yet it is only a
specimen of insect life, with which, by reason of
the animal being half domesticated, we happen

THE GOODNESS OF THE DEITY.

471

to be better acquainted than we are with that of
others. The whole winged insect tribe, it is
probable, are equally intent upon their proper
employments, and, under every variety of consti-
tution, gratified, and perhaps equally gratified,
by the offices which the Author of their nature
has assigned to them. But the atmosphere is
not the only scene of enjoyment for the insect
race. Plants are covered with aphides, greedily
sucking their juices, and constantly, as it should
seem, in the act of sucking. It cannot be
doubted but that this is a state of gratification.
What else should fix them so close to the
operation, and so long ? other species are rnnning
about ^ with an alacrity in their motions, which
carries with it every mark of pleasure. Large
patches of ground are sometimes half covered
with these brisk and sprightly natures. If we
look to what the waters produce, shoals of the
fry of fish frequent the margins of rivers, of
lakes, and of the sea itself. These are so happy,
that they know not what to do with themselves.
Their attitudes, their vivacity, their leaps out of
the water, their frolics in it (which I have
noticed a thousand times with equal attention
and amusement), all conduce to show their
excess of spirits, and are simply the effects of
that excess. Walking by the sea-side, in a

472

NATUUAL THEOLOGY.

calm evening, upon a sandy shore, and with an
ebbing tide, I have frequently remarked the
appearance of a dark cloud, or rather, very thick
mist, hanging over the edge of the water, to
the height, perhaps, of half a yard, and of the
breadth of two or three yards, stretching along
the coast as far as the eye could reach, and always
retiring with the water. When this cloud came
to be examined, it proved to be nothing else
than so much space, filled with young shrimps^
in the act of bounding into the air from the
shallow margin of the water, or from the wet
sand. If any motion of a mute animal could
express delight, it was this : if they had meant
to make signs of their happiness, they could not
have done it more intelligibly. Suppose then,
what I have no doubt of, each individual of this
number to be in a state of positive enjoyment ;
what a sum, collectively, of gratification and
pleasure have we here before our view !

Theyc^^;^^ of all animals appear to me to re-
ceive pleasure simply from the exercise of their
limbs and bodily faculties, without reference to
any end to be attained, or any use to be answered
by the exertion. A child, without knowing any
thing of the use of language, is in a high degree
delighted with being able to speak. Its incessant
repetition of a few articulate sounds, or perhaps

THE GOODNESS OF THE DEITY.

473

of the single word which it has learned to pro-
nounce, proves this point clearly. Nor is it less
pleased with its first successful endeavours to
walk, or rather to run (which precedes walk-
ing), although entirely ignorant of the import-
ance of the attainment to its future life, and
even without applying it to any present pur-
pose. A child is delighted with speaking,
without having anything to say ; and with
walking, without knowing where to go. And,
prior to both these, I am disposed to believe
that the waking hours of infancy are agreeably
taken up with the exercise of vision, or perhaps,
more properly speaking, with learning to see.

But it is not for youth alone that the great,
Parent of creation hath provided. Happiness is
found with the purring cat, no less than with
the playful kitten ; in the arm-chair of dozing
age, as well as in either the sprightliness of the
dance, or the animation of the chase. To
novelty, to acuteness of sensation, to hope, to
ardour of pursuit, succeeds what is, in no in-
considerable degree, an equivalent for them all,
perception of ease.'’^ Herein is the exact
difference between the young and the old. The
young are not happy but when enjoying plea-
sure ; the old are happy when free from pain.
And this constitution suits with the degrees of

474

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

animal power which they respectively possess.
The vigour of youth was to be stimulated to
action by impatience of rest; whilst to the
imbecility of age quietness and repose become
positive gratifications. In one important respect
the advantage is with the old. A state of ease
is, generally speaking, more attainable than a
state of pleasure. A constitution, therefore,
which can enjoy ease is preferable to that which
can taste only pleasure. This same perception
of ease oftentimes renders old age a condition of
great comfort; especially when riding at its
anchor after a busy or tempestuous life. It is
well described by Rousseau to be the interval of
repose and enjoyment between the hurry and the
end of life. How far the same cause extends to
other animat natures cannot be judged of with
certainty. The appearance of satisfaction with
which most animals, as their activity subsides,
seek and enjoy rest, affords reason to believe that
this source of gratification is appointed to ad-
vanced life under all, or most of its various
forms. In the species with which we are best
acquainted, namely our own, I am far, even as
an observer of human life, from thinking that
youth is its happiest season, much less the only
happy one ; as a Christian, I am willing to
believe that there is a great deal of truth in the

THE GOODNESS OF THE DEITY.

475

following* representation, given by a very pious
writer, as well as excellent man/ To the
intelligent and virtuous old age presents a scene
of tranquil enjoyments, of obedient appetite, of
well-regulated affection, of maturity in know-
ledge, and of calm preparation for immortality.
In this serene and dignified state, placed as
it were on the confines of two worlds, the mind
of a good man reviews what is past with the
complacency of an approving conscience ; and
looks forward with humble confidence in the
mercy of God, and with devout aspirations
towards His eternal and ever-increasing favour/^
What is seen in different stages of the same
life, is still more exemplified in the lives of
different animals. Animal enjoyments are
infinitely diversified. The modes of life, to
which the organization of different animals
respectively determines them, are not only of
various but of opposite kinds. Yet each is
happy in its own. For instance, animals of
prey live much alone ; animals of a milder con-
stitution, in society. Yet the herring, which
lives in shoals, and the sheep, which lives in
flocks, are not more happy in a crowd, or more
contented amongst their companions, than is

1 Father^ s Instructions j by Dr. Peroival of Manchester,
p. 317.

476

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

the pike, or the lion, with the deep solitudes of
the pool or the forest.

But it will be said that the instances which
we ha^e here brought forward, whether of
vivacity or repose, or of apparent enjoyment
derived from either, are picked and favourable
instances. We answer, first, that they are
instances, nevertheless, which comprise large
provinces of sensitive existence ; that every
case which we have described is the case of
millions. At this moment, in every given
moment of time, how many myriads of animals
are eating their food, gratifying their appetites,
ruminating in their holes, accomplishing their
wishes, pursuing their pleasures, taking their
pastimes ! In each individual how many things
must go right for it to be at ease; yet how
large a proportion out of every species is so in
every assignable instant ! Secondly, we con-
tend, in the terms of our original proposition,
that throughout the whole of life, as it is
diffused in nature, and as far as we are ac-
quainted with it, looking to the average of
sensations, the plurality and the preponderancy
is in favour of happiness by a vast excess.
In our own species, in which perhaps the
assertion may be more questionable than in any
other, the preponderance of good over evil, of

THE GOODNESS OE THE DEITY.

477

healthy for example, and ease, over pain and
distress^ is evinced hy the very notice which
calamities excite. What inquiries does the
sickness of our friends produce ! What conver-
sation their misfortunes ! This shows that the
common course of things is in favour of happi-
ness; that happiness is the rule, misery the
exception. Were the order reversed, our atten-
tion would be called to examples of health and
competency, instead of disease and want. And
how much, it may be added, of what we do
suffer, both bodily and mentally, is due to a
reckless abuse of the blessings bestowed upon
us.

One great cause of our insensibility to the
goodness of the Creator, is the very extensiveness
of His bounty. We prize but little what we
share in common with the rest, or with the
generality of our species. When we hear of
blessings, we think forthwith of successes, of
prosperous fortunes, of honours, riches, prefer-
ments, i.e. of those advantag’es and superiorities
over others, which we happen either to possess,
or to be in pursuit of, or to covet. The common
benefits of our nature entirely escape us. Yet
these are the great things. These constitute
what most properly ought to be accounted
blessings of Providence ; what alone, if we

478

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

might SO speak^ are worthy of its care. Nightly
rest and daily bread, the ordinary use of our
limbs, and senses, and understandings, are gifts
which admit of no comparison with any other.
Yet, because almost every man we meet with
possesses these, we leave them out of our enu-
meration. They raise no sentiment; they move
no gratitude. Now, herein is our judgment per-
verted by our selfishness. A blessing ought in
truth to be the more satisfactory, the bounty at
least of the donor is rendered more conspicuous,
by its very diffusion, its commonness, its cheap-
ness ; by its falling to the lot, and forming the
happiness, of the great bulk and body of our
species, as well as of ourselves. Nay, even when
we do not possess it, it ought to be matter of
thankfulness that others do. But we have a
different way of thinking. We court distinction.
That is not the worst : we see nothing but what
has distinction to recommend it. This neces-
sarily contracts our views of the Creator's bene-
ficence within a narrow compass ; and most
unjustly. It is in those things which are so
common as to be no distinction, that the am-
plitude of the Divine benignity is perceived.

But pain, no doubt, and privations exist, in
numerous instances, and to a degree which, col-
lectively, would be very great, if they were

THE GOODNESS OP THE DEITY.

479

compared with any other thing than with the
mass of animal fruition. For the application^
therefore, of our proposition to that mixed state
of things which these exceptions induce, two
rules are necessary, and both, I think, just and
fair rules. One is, that we regard those effects
alone which are accompanied with proofs of
intention : the other, that when we cannot
resolve all appearances into benevolence of
design, we make the few give place to many;
the little to the great; that we take our judg-
ment from a large and decided preponderancy,
if there be one.

I crave leave to transcribe into this place,
what I have said upon this subject in my Moral
Philosophy : —

When God created the human species, either
He wished their happiness, or He wished their
misery, or He was indifferent and unconcerned
about either.

^^If He had wished their misery. He might
have made sure of His purpose, by forming
our senses to be so many sores and pains to
us, as they are now instruments of gratification
and enjoyment : or by placing us amidst objects,
so ill suited to our perceptions as to have con-
tinually offended us, instead of ministering to
our refreshment and delight. He might have

480

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

made^ for example, everything we tasted bitter ;
everything we saw, loathsome ; everything we
touched, a sting ; every smell, a stench ; and
every sound, a discord.

If He had been indifferent about our hap-
piness or misery, we must impute to our good
fortune (as all design by this supposition is
excluded) both the capacity of our senses to
receive pleasure, and the supply of external
objects fitted to produce it.

^‘But either of these, and still more both of
them, being too much to be attributed to acci-
dent, nothing remains but the first supposition,
that God, when He created the human species,
wished their happiness ; and made for them the
provision which He has made, with that view
and for that purpose.

The same argument may be proposed in dif-
ferent terms ; thus : contrivance proves design :
and the predominant tendency of the contrivance
indicates the disposition of the designer. The
world abounds with contrivances : and all the
contrivances which we are acquainted with are
directed to beneficial purposes. Evil, no doubt,
exists ; but is never, that we can perceive, the
object of contrivance. Teeth are contrived to
eat, not to ache ; their aching now and then is
incidental to the contrivance, perhaps inseparable

THE GOODNESS OF THE DEITY.

481

from it : or even^ if you will, let it be called a
defect in the contrivance ; but it is not the
object of it. This is a distinction which well
deserves to be attended to. In describing
implements of husbandry, you would hardly
say of the sickle, that it is made to cut the
reaper^s hand; though, from the construction
of the instrument, and the manner of using it,
this mischief often follows. But if you had
occasion to describe instruments of torture or
execution ; this engine, you would say, is to
extend the sinews; this to dislocate the joints;
this to break the bones ; this to scorch the soles
of the feet. Here pain and misery are the very
object of the contrivance. Now, nothing of this
sort is to be found in the works of nature. We
never discover a train of contrivance to bring
about an evil purpose. No anatomist ever dis-
covered a system of organization calculated to
produce pain and disease ; or, in explaining the
parts of the human body, ever said, this is to
irritate ; this to inflame ; this duct is to convey
the gravel to the kidneys ; this gland to secrete
the humour which forms the gout : if by chance
he come at a part of which he knows not the use,
the most he can say is, that it is useless; ilo
one ever suspeets that it is put there to incom-
mode, ^jO annoy, or to torment.^*^

48a

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

The TWO CASES which appear to me to have
the most of difficulty in them^ as forming* the
most of the appearance of exception to the
representation here given, are those of venomous
animals, and of animals upon one another.

These properties of animals, wherever they are
found, must, I think, be referred to design ;
because there is, in all cases of the first, and in
most cases of the second, an express and distinct
organization provided for ihe producing of
them. Under the first head, the fangs of
vipers, the stings of wasps and scorpions, are as
clearly intended for their purpose, as any animal
structure is for any purpose the most incon-
testibly beneficial. And the same thing must,
under the second head, be acknowledged of the
talons and beaks of birds, of the tusks, teeth
and claws of beasts of prey, of the shark's
mouth, of the spider's web, and of numberless
v/eapons of offence belonging to different tribes
of voracious insects. We cannot, therefore,
avoid the difiiculty by saying, that the effect
was not intended. The only question open to
us is, whether it be ultimately evil. From the
confessed and felt imperfection of our knowledge,
we ought to presume, that there may be con-
sequences of this economy which are hidden
from us ; from the benevolence which pervades

THE GOODNESS OF THE DEITY.

483

the general designs of nature^ we ought also
to presume that these consequences^ if they
could enter into our calculation, would turn
the balance on the favourable side. Both these
I contend to be reasonable presumptions. Not
reasonable presumptions, if these two cases were
the only cases which nature presented to our
observation ; but reasonable presumptions under
the reflection, that the cases in question are
combined with a multitude of intentions, all
proceeding from the same Author, and all,
except these, directed to ends of undisputed
utility. Of the vindications, however, of this
economy, which we are able to assign, such as
most extenuate the difliculty are the following.

With respect to venomous bites and stings, it
may be observed, —

That, the animal itself being regarded, the
faculty complained of is good : being conducive,
in all cases, to the defence of the animal; in
some cases, to the subduing of its prey ; and in
some, probably to the killing of it when caught,
by a mortal wound inflicted in the passage to
the stomach, which mav be no less merciful to
the victim than salutary to the devourer : for
death is certain, rapid and comparatively pain-
less. Indeed there seems to be no reason for
taking the venomous serpents out of the sue-

484

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

ceeding category; as their peculiar means of
destroying their prey can only be regarded as a
variety in the construction and adap£ation of
the ordinary weapons of destruction.

It has been, I think, very justly remarked,
concerning serpents, that, whilst only a few
species possess the venomous property, that
property guards the whole tribe. The most
innocuous snake is avoided with as much care
as a viper. Now the terror with which large
animals regard this class of reptiles is its pro-
tection; and this terror is founded in the for-
midable revenge, which a few of the number,
compared with the whole, are capable of taking.

The SECOND CASE, viz. that of animals de--
vouring one another, furnishes a consideration
of much larger extent. To judge whether, as
a general provision, this can be deemed an evil^
even so far as we understand its consequences,
which, probably, is a partial understanding, the
following reflections are fit to be attended to.

1. Immortality upon this earth is out of the
question. Without death there could be no
generation, no sexes, no parental relation, i. e.
as things are constituted, no animal happiness.
The particular duration of life, assigned to
different animals, can form no part of the
objection; because, whatever that duration be.

THE GOODNESS OF THE DEITY.

485

whilst it remains finite and limited, it may
always be asked, why it is no longer. The
natural age of different animals varies from a
single day to a century of years. No account
can be given of this ; nor could any be given,
whatever other proportion of life had obtained
amongst them.

The term then of life in different animals
being the same as it is, the question is, what
mode of taking it away is the best even for the
animal itself?

Now, according to the established order of
nature (which we must suppose to prevail, or
we cannot reason at all upon the subject), the
three methods by which life is usually put an
end to are, acute diseases, decay, and violence.
The simple and natural life of hmtes is not
often visited by acute distempers ; nor could it
be deemed an improvement of their lot if they
were. Let it be considered, therefore, in what a
condition of suffering and misery a brute animal
is placed, which is left to perish by decay. In
human sickness or infirmity, there is the assist-
ance of man’s rational fellow-creatures, if not to
alleviate his pains, at least to minister to his
necessities, and to supply the place of his own
activity. A brute, in his wild and natural
state, does everything for himself. When his

486

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

strength, therefore, or his speed, or his limbs, or
his teeth, or his senses fail him, he is delivered
over, either to absolute famine, or to the pro-
tracted wretchedness of a life slowly wasted by
the scarcity of food. Is it then to see the
world filled with drooping, superannuated, half-
starved, helpless and unhelped animals, that
you would alter the present system of pursuit
and prey ?

2. Which system is also to them the spring
of motion and activity on both sides. The
pursuit of its prey, forms the employment, and
appears to constitute the pleasure, of a consider-
able part of the animal creation. The using of
the means of defence, or flight, or precaution,
forms also the business of another part. And
even of this latter tribe, we have no reason to
suppose that their happiness is much molested
by their fears. Their danger exists continually ;
and in some cases they seem to be so far
sensible of it, as to provide in the best manner
they can against it; but it is only when the
attack is actually made upon them that they
appear to suffer from it. To contemplate the
insecurity of their condition with anxiety and
dread, requires a degree of reflection which
(happily for themselves) they do not possess.
A hare^ notwithstanding the number of its

THE GOODNESS OE THE DEITY.

487

dangers and its enemies^ is as playful an animal
as any other. It cannot^ therefore, be doubted,
as already suggested, that by the rapid destruc-
tion of the maimed, the diseased, and the aged,
the sum of the happiness and enjoyment of
animal life is greatly enhanced ; whilst suste-
nance is provided for the young and healthy,

3. But, to do justice to the question, the
system of animal destruction ought always to
be considered in strict connexion with another
property of animal nature, Vyl, superfecundity.
They are countervailing qualities. One subsists
by the correction of the other. In treating,
therefore, of the subject under this view (which
is, I believe, the true one), our business will be,
first, to point out the advantages which are
gained by the powers in nature of a superabun-
dant multiplication ; and then to show, that
these advantages are so many reasons for
appointing that system of natural hostilities,
which we are endeavouring to account for.

In almost all cases nature produces her
supplies with profusion. A single cod-fish
spawns, in one season, a greater number of eggs
than all the inhabitants of England amount
to. A thousand other instances of prolific
generation might be stated, which, though not
equal to this, would carry on the increase of

488

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

the species with a rapidity which outruns cal-
culation^ and to an immeasurable extent. The
advantages of such a constitution are two : first,
that it tends to keep the world always full ;
whilst, secondly, it allows the proportion between
the several species of animals to be differently
modified, as different purposes require, or as
different situations may afford for them room and
food. Where this vast fecundity meets with a
vacancy fitted to receive the species, there it
operates with its whole effect : there it pours
in its numbers, and replenishes the waste. We
complain of what w’e call the exorbitant mul-
tiplication of some troublesome insects; not
reflecting, that large portions of nature might
be left void without it. If the accounts of
travellers may be depended upon, immense
tracts of forest in North America would be
nearly lost to sensitive existence, if it were not
for gnats, In the thinly inhabited regions
of America, in which the waters stagnate and
the climate is warm, the whole air is filled with
crowds of these insects.^^ Thus it is that, where
we looked for solitude and death-like silence, we
meet with animation, activity, enjoyment ; with
a busy, a happy, and a peopled world. Again,
hosts of mice are reckoned amongst the plagues
of the north-east part of Europe ; whereas vast

THE GOODNESS OF THE DEITY. 489

plains in Siberia^ as we learn from good authority,
would be lifeless without them. The Caspian
deserts are converted by their presence into
crowded warrens. Between the Volga and the
Yaik, and in the country of Hyrcania, the ground,
says Pallas, is in many places covered with little
hills, raised by the earth cast out in forming the
burrows. Do we so envy these blissful abodes,
to pronounce the fecundity by which they are
supplied with inhabitants to be an evil ; a
subject of complaint, and not of praise ?
Further ; by virtue of this same superfecundity,
what we term destruction becomes almost
instantly the parent of life. What we call
blights are oftentimes legions of animated
beings, claiming their portion in the bounty of
nature. What corrupts the produce of the earth
to us, prepares it for them. And it is by means
of their rapid multiplication that they take
possession of their pasture : a slow propagation
would not meet the opportunity.

But in conjunction with the occasional use of
this fruitfulness, we observe also, that it allows
the proportion between the several species of
animals to be differently modified, as different
purposes of utility may require. When the
forests of America come to be cleared, and the
swamps drained, our gnats will give place to

490

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

other inhabitants. As the population of Europe
spreads to the north and the east, the mice
retire before the husbandman and the shepherd,
and yield their station to herds and flocks. In
what concerns the human species, it may be a
part of the scheme of Providence, that the earth
should be inhabited by a shifting, or perhaps
a circulating population. In this economy it
is possible that there may be the following
advantages : when old countries are become
exceedingly corrupt, simpler modes of life,
purer morals, and better institutions, may rise
up in new ones, whilst fresh soils reward the
cultivator with more plentiful returns. Thus
the different portions of the globe come into use
in succession as the residence of man ; and in
his absence entertain other guests, which, by
their sudden multiplication, fill the chasm. In
domesticated animals, we find the effect of their
fecundity to be, that we can always command
numbers ; we can always have as many of any
particular species as we please, or as we can
support. ^ Nor do we complain of its excess ;
it being much more easy to regulate abundance,
than to supply scarcity.

But then this super fecundity ^ though of great
occasional use and importance, exceeds the ordi-
nary capacity of nature to receive or support its

THE GOODNESS OF THE DEITY.

491

progeny. All superabundance supposes destruc-
tion^ or must destroy itself. Perhaps there is no
species of terrestrial animals whatever^ which
would not overrun the earthy if it were per-
mitted to multiply in perfect safety ; or of fish^
which would not fill the ocean : at leasts if any
single species were left to their natural increase
without disturbance or restraint, ;,..the food of
other species would be exhausted by their main-
tenance. It is necessary, therefore, that the
effects of such prolific faculties be curtailed. In
conjunction with other checks and limits, all
subservient to the same purpose, are the tldn^
nings which take place among animals, by their
action upon one another. In some instances we
ourselves experience, very directly, the use of
these hostilities. One species of insects rids us
of another species ; or reduces their ranks. A
third species, perhaps, keeps the second within
bounds ; and birds or lizards are a fence against
the inordinate increase by which even these last
might infest us. In other more numerous, and
possibly more important instances, this disposi-
tion of things, although less necessary or useful
to us, and of course less observed by us, may be
necessary and useful to certain other species ; or
even for the preventing of the loss of certain
species from the universe : a misfortune which

492

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

seems to be studiously guarded against. Though
there may be the appearance of failure in some
of the details of Nature^s works, in her great
purposes there never are. Her species never fail.
The provision, which was originally made for
continuing the replenishment of the world, has
proved itself to be effectual through a long suc-
cession of ages.

What further shows that the system of de-
struction amongst animals holds an express
relation to the system of fecundity ; that they are
parts indeed of one compensatory scheme ; is
that in each species the fecundity bears a pro-
portion to the smallness of the animal, to its
weakness, to the shortness of its natural term of
life, and to the dangers and enemies by which it
is surrounded. An elephant produces but one
calf ; a butterfly lays six hundred eggs. Birds
of prey seldom produce more than two eggs : the
sparrow tribe, and the duck tribe, frequently sit
upon a dozen. In the rivers, we meet with a
thousand minnows for one pike ; in the sea, a
million of herrings for a single shark. Compen-
sation obtains throughout. Defencelessness and
devastation are repaired by fecundity.

We have dwelt the longer on these considera-
tions, because the subject to which they apply
namely, that of animals devourmg one another.

THE GOODNESS OF THE DEITY.

493

forms the chiefs if not the only instance, in
the works of the Deity, of an economy,
stamped by marks of design, in which the
character of utility can, with any semblance
of plausibility, be called in question. The case
of venomous animals is of much inferior con-
sequence to the case of prey, and may in fact
be included under it.

OuE FIRST PROPOSITION, and that which we
have hitherto been defending, was, that in a
vast plurality of instances in which contrivance
is perceived, the design of the contrivance is
beneficial.’^

Our second proposition is, that the Deity
has ^pleasure to animal sensations, beyond
what was necessary for any other purpose, or
when the purpose, so far as it was necessary^
might have been effected by the operation of
pain.”

This proposition may be thus explained : the
capacities which, according to the established
course of nature, are necessary to the support or
preservation of an animal, however manifestly
they may be the result of an organization con-
trived for the purpose, can only be deemed an
act or a part of the same will, as that which de-
creed the existence of the animal itself j because,
whether the creation proceeded from a benevo-

494

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

lent or a malevolent being, these capacities must
have been given^ if the animal existed at all.
Animal properties, therefore^ which fall under
this description do not strictly prove the good-
ness of God : they may prove the existence of
the Deity; they may prove a high degree of
power and intelligence : but they do not prove
His goodness; forasmuch as they must have
been found in any creation which was capable
of continuance^ although it is possible to sup-
pose that such a creation might have been
produced by a being whose views rested upon
misery.

But there is a class of properties, which may
be said to be superadded from an intention
expressly directed to happiness ; an intention to
give a happy existence distinct from the general
intention of providing the means of existence ;
and that is, of capacities for pleasure, in cases
wherein, so far as the conservation of the indi-
vidual or of the species is concerned, they were
not wanted, or wherein the purpose might have
been secured by the operation of pain. The
provision which is made of a variety of objects,
not necessary to life, and ministering only to
our pleasures ; and the properties given to the
necessaries of life themselves, by which they
contribute to pleasure as well as preservation ;

THE GOODNESS OF THE DEITY.

495

show a further design, than that of giving
existence.^

A single instance will make all this clear.
Assuming the necessity of food for the support
of animal life ; it is requisite that the animal be
provided with organs, fitted for the procuring,
receiving and digesting of its food. It may be
also necessary that the animal be impelled by
its sensations to exert its organs. But the pain
of hunger would do all this. Why add pleasure
to the act of eating ; sweetness and relish to
food ? why a new and appropriate sense for the
perception of the pleasure ? Why should the
juice of a peach, applied to the palate, affect the
part so differently from what it does when rubbed
upon the palm of the hand ? This is a constitu-
tion which, so far as appears to me, can be re-
solved into nothing but the pure benevolence of
the Creator. Eating is necessary ; but the plea-
sure attending it is not necessary : and that this
pleasure depends, not only upon our being in
possession of the sense of taste, which is diiferent
from every other, but upon a particular state of

1 See this topic considered in Dr. Balgiiy’s Treatise upon
the Divine Benevolence. This excellent author first, I think,
proposed it j and nearly in the terms in which it is here
stated. Some other observations also under this head are
taken from that treatise.

496

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

the organ in which it resides, a felicitous adapta-
tion of the organ to the object, will be confessed
by any one who may happen to have experienced
that vitiation of taste which frequently occurs in
fevers, when every taste is irregular, and every
one bad.

In mentioning the gratifications of the palate,
it may be said that we have made choice of a
trifling example. I am not of that opinion.
They afford a share of enjoyment to man ; but
to brutes I believe that they are of very great
importance. A horse at liberty passes a great
part of his waking hours in eating. To the ox,
the sheep, the deer, and other ruminating
animals, the pleasure is doubled. Their whole
time almost is divided between browsing upon
their pasture and chewing their cud. Whatever
the pleasure be, it is spread over a large portion
of their existence. As there are animals which
swallow their prey whole, and at once, without
any time, as it should seem, for either drawing
out or relishing the taste in the mouth, is it an
improbable conjecture that a sense of pleasure,
whether it be taste or not, accompanies the dis-
solution of the food in that receptacle, which dis-
solution in general is carried on very slowly ? "^f
this opinion be right, they are more than repaid:
for the defect of palate. The feasts last as long>

THE GOODNESS OF THE DEITY.

497

as the digestion. Moreover^ the sense of taste
is adapted to the habits of the animal^ flesh being
as nauseous to the vegetable feeder as herbs are
to the carnivora. In man the range of the senses
of both taste and smell is more varied, and the
enjoyment derived therefrom correspondingly
greater.

In seeking for argument, we need not stay to
insist upon the comparative importance of our
example ; for the observation holds equally of
all, or of three at least, of the other senses. The
necessary purposes of hearing might have been
answered without harmony ; of smell, without
fragrance ; of vision, without beauty. Now,
if the Deity had been indifferent about our
happiness or misery, we must impute to our
good fortune (as all design by this supposition
is excluded), both the capacity of our senses to
receive pleasure, and the supply of external
objects fitted to excite it.^^ I allege these as
two felicities, for they are different things, yet
both necessary : the sense being formed, the
objects which were applied to it might not have
suited it ; the objects being fixed, the sense
might not have agreed with them. A coin-
cidence is here required, which no accident can
account for. There are three possible suppo-
sitions upon the subject, and no more. The

K k

498

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

first j that the sense, by its original constitution,
was made to suit the object : the second ; that
the object, by its original constitution, was
made to suit the sense : the third ; that the
sense is so constituted, as to be able, either
universally, or within certain limits, by habit
and familiarity, to render every object pleasant.
Whichever of these suppositions we adopt, the
effect evinces, on the part of the Author of
Nature, a studious benevolence. If the plea-
sures which we derive from any of our senses
depend upon an original congruity between the
sense and the properties perceived by it, we
know by experience that the adjustment de-
manded, with respect to the qualities which
were conferred upon the objects that surround
us, not only choice and selection, out of a
boundless variety of possible qualities with
which these objects might have been endued,
but a proportioning also of degreOy because an
excess or defect of intensity spoils the percep-
tion, as much almost as an error in the kind
and nature of the quality. Likewise the degree
of dulness or acuteness in the sense itself is no
arbitrary thing, but, in order to preserve the
congruity here spoken of, requires to be in an
exact or near correspondency with the strength
of the impression. The dulness of the senses

THE GOODNESS OF THE DEITY.

499

forms the complaint of old age. Persons in
fevers^ and some other diseases, experience great
torment from their preternatural acuteness.
An increased, no less than an impaired sen-
sibility, induces a state of disease and suffering.

The doctrine of a specific congruity^ between
animal senses and their objects, is strongly
favoured by what is observed of insects in the
election of their food. Some of these will feed
upon one kind of plant or animal, and upon no
other : some caterpillars upon the cabbage alone ;
some upon the black currant alone : the silk-
worm selects the mulberry. The species of
caterpillar which eats the vine will starve upon
the elder : nor will that which we find upon
fennel, touch the rose-bush. Some insects con-
fine themselves to two or three kinds of plants
or animals. Some again show so strong a
preference as to afford reason to believe that,
though they may be driven by hunger to others,
they are led by the pleasure of taste to a few
particular plants alone : and all this, as it should
seem, independently of habit or imitation.

But should we accept the third hypothesis,
and ev'en carry it so far, as to ascribe every-
thing which concerns the question to habit (as
in certain species, the human species most par-
ticularly, there is reason to attribute something),
K k 2

500

NATURA.L THEOLOGY.

we have then before us an animal capacity^ not
less perhaps to be admired than the native con-
gruities which the other scheme adopts. It
cannot be shown to result from any fixed neces-
sity in nature^ that what is frequently applied
to the senses should of course become agreeable
to them. It is^ so far as it subsists^ a power of
accommodation provided in these senses by the
Author of their structure^ and forms a part of
their perfection.

In whichever way we regard the senses, they
appear to be specific gifts, ministering not only
to preservation but to pleasure. But what we
usually call the senses are probably themselves
far from being the only vehicles of enjoyment,
or the whole of our constitution which is cal-
culated for the same purpose. We have many
internal sensations of the most agreeable kind,
hardly referable to any of the five senses. These
would appear to be due to the healthy balance
of all the functions which minister and are
essential to life : and the complacency which we
thus experience constitutes the difference be-
tween a passive existence and an active enjoy-
ment of life. All this is true, and what reason
can be assigned for it, except the will of the
Creator ? It may reasonably be asked, why is
anything a pleasure? and I know no answer

THE GOODNESS OF THE DEITY.

501

which can be returned to the question^ but that
which refers it to appointment.

We can give no account whatever of our
pleasures in the simple and original perception ;
and^ even when physical sensations are assumed,
we can seldom account for them in the secon-
dary and complicated shapes, in which they
take the name of diversions. I never yet met
with a sportsman, who could tell me in what
the sport consisted ; who could resolve it into
its principle, and state that principle. I have
been a great follower of fishing myself, and in
its cheerful solitude have passed some of the
happiest hours of a suflSciently happy life ; but,
to this moment, I could never trace out the
source of the pleasure which it afforded me.

The quantum in rebus inane ! whether
applied to our amusements, or to our graver
pursuits (to which in truth it sometimes equally
belongs), is always an unjust complaint. If
trifles engage, and if trifles makes us happy,
the true reflection suggested by the experiment
is upon the tendency of nature to gratification
and enjoyment ; which is, in other words, the
goodness of its Author towards His sensitive
creation.

Rational natures also, as such, exhibit quali-
ties which help to confirm the truth of our

502

NATUEAL THEOLOGY.

position. The degree of understanding found
in mankind is usually much greater than what
is necessary for mere preservation. The pleasure
of choosing for themselves, and of prosecuting
the object of their choice, should seem to be an
original source of enjoyment. The pleasures
received from things great, beautiful, or new^
from imitation, or from the liberal arts, are in
some measure not only superadded but un-
mixed gratifications, having no pains to balance
them.^

I do not know whether our attachment to
property be not something more than the mere
dictate of reason, or even than the mere effect
of association. Property communicates a charm
to whatever is the object of it. It is the first
of our abstract ideas ; it cleaves to us the closest
and the longest. It endears to the child its
plaything, to the peasant his cottage, to the
landholder his estate. It supplies the place of
prospect and scenery. Instead of coveting the
beauty of distant situations, it teaches every
man to find it in his own. It gives boldness
and grandeur to plains and fens, tinge and
colouring to clays and fallows.

All these considerations come in aid of our

^ Balguj on the Divine Benevolence.

THE GOODNESS OF THE DEITY.

503

second proposition. The reader will now bear in
mind what our two propositions were. They
were^ firstly^ that in a vast plurality of instances
in which contrivance is perceived, the design of
the contrivance is beneficial : secondly, that the
Deity has added pleasure to animal sensations
beyond what was necessary for any other pur-
pose ; or when the purpose, so far as it was
necessary, might have been efiected by the
operation of pain.

Whilst these propositions can be maintained,
we are authorized to ascribe to the Deity the
character of benevolence : and what is bene-
volence at all, must in Him be infinite bene-
volence, by reason of the infinite, that is to say,
the incalculably great number of objects upon
which it is exercised.

Of the OEiGiN OF EVIL no universal solution
has been discovered ; I mean, no solution which
reaches to all cases of complaint. The most
comprehensive is that which arises from the
consideration of general rules. We may, I think
without much difficulty, be brought to admit
the four following points : first, that important
advantages may accrue to the universe from
the order of nature proceeding according to
general laws : secondly, that gerieral laws, how-

504

NATURAL THEOLOG’: ^

ever well set and constituted^ often thwart and
cross one another : thirdly, that from these
thwartings and crossings^ frequent particular
inconveniences will arise : and^ fourthly, that
it agrees with our observation to suppose, that
some degree of these inconveniences takes place
in the works of nature. These points may be
allowed ; and it may also be asserted, that the
general laws with which we are acquainted are
directed to beneficial ends. On the other hand,
with many of these laws we are not acquainted
at all, or we are totally unable to trace them
in their branches, and in their operation; the
effect of which ignorance is, that they cannot be
of importance to us as measures by which to
regulate our conduct. The conservation of
them may be of importance in other respects,
or to other beings, but we are uninformed of
their value or use; uninformed, consequently,
when, and how far, they may or may not be
suspended, or their effects turned aside, by a
presiding and benevolent will, without incurring
greater evils than those which would be avoided.
The consideration therefore of general laws,
although it may concern the question of the
origin of evil very nearly (which I think it
does), rests in views disproportionate to our
faculties, and iii a knowledge which we do not

THE GOODNESS OF THE DEITY.

505

possess. It serves rather to account for the
obscurity of the subject^ 'than to supply us with
distinct answers to our difficulties. However,
whilst we assent to the above stated proposi-
tions as principles, whatever uncertainty we
may find in the application, we lay a ground for
believing that cases of apparent evil, for which
we can suggest no particular reason, are governed
by reasons which are more general, which lie
deeper in the order of second causes, and which
on that account are removed to a greater dis-
tance from us.

The doctrine of imperfections^ or, as it is called,
of evils of imperfection, furnishes an account,
founded, like the former, in views of universal
nature. The doctrine is briefly this : — It is
probable that creation may be better replenished
by sensitive beings of different sorts, than by
sensitive beings all of one sort. It is likewise
probable that it may be better replenished by
different orders of beings rising one above
another in gradation, than by beings possessed
of equal degrees of perfection. Now, a gradation
of such beings implies a gradation of imper-
fections. No class can justly complain of the
imperfections which belong to its place in the
scale, unless it were allowable for it to com-
plain, that a scale of being was appointed in

506

NATUEAL THEOLOGY.

nature ; for which appointment there appear to
be reasons of wisdom and goodness.

In like manner finiteness, or what is resolv*
able into finiteness^ in inanimate subjects^ can
never be a just subject of complaint^ because
if it were ever so^ it would be always so : we
mean, that we can never reasonably demand
that things should be larger or more, when the
same demand might be made, whatever the
quantity or number was.

And to me it seems that the sense of man-
kind has so far acquiesced in these reasons, as
that we seldom complain of evils of this class,
when we clearly perceive them to be such*
What I have to add, therefore, is that we ought
not to complain of some other evils which stand
upon the same foot of vindication as evils of
confessed imperfection. We never complain
that the globe of our earth is too small : nor
should we complain, if it were even much
smaller. But where is the difference to us be-
tween a less globe, and part of the present being
uninhabitable? The inhabitants of an island
may be apt enough to murmur at the sterility
of some parts of it, against its rocks, or sands, or
swamps; but no one thinks himself authorized
to murmur, simply because the island is not
larger than it is. Yet these are the same griefs.

THE GOODNESS OE THE DEITY.

507

The above are the two metaphysical answers
which have been given to this great question.
They are not the worse for being metaphysical^
provided they be founded (which I think they
are) in right reasoning: but they are of a
nature too wide to be brought under our survey,
and it is often difficult to apply them in the
detail. Our speculations, therefore, are perhaps
better employed when they confine themselves
within a narrower circle.

The observations which follow are of this
more limited, but more determinate, kind.

Of hoclily pain, the principal observation, no
doubt, is that which we have already made and
already dwelt upon, viz. ^^that it is seldom the
object of contrivance; that when it is so, the
contrivance rests ultimately in good.^^

To which, however, may be added, that the
annexing of pain to the means of destruction is
a salutary provision, inasmuch as it teaches
vigilance and caution ; both gives notice of
danger and excites those endeavours which
may be necessary to preservation. The evil
consequence, which sometimes arises from the
want of that timely intimation of danger which
pain gives, is known to the inhabitants of cold
countries by the example of frost-bitten limbs.
I have conversed with patients who have lost

508

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

toes and fingers by this cause. They have in
general told me^ that they were totally uncon-
scious of any local uneasiness at the time.
Some I have heard declare that, whilst they
were about their employment, neither their
situation, nor the state of the air was unplea-
sant. They felt no pain ; they suspected no
mischief; till, by the application of warmth,
they discovered, too late, the fatal injury which
some of their extremities had suffered. I say
that this shows the use of pain, and that we
stand in need of such a monitor. In truth
we rarely pass an hour without being reminded
of the value of pain to admonish us of impend-
ing mischief, and to induce us to adopt measures
for its relief when inflicted. The senses — the
eye in particular — are thus beholden : when
deprived of its sensitiveness, this optical instru-
ment is soon spoiled by exposure, for it is no
longer swept by the ever-active eyelid to
moisten and cleanse it. In like manner are
the air-passages protected by the acute sensitive-
ness of the nostrils and of the upper opening of
the larynx : sneezing or spasmodic cough is
excited to eject any extraneous matter or in-
truding particle of food. Attention to the
wants of nature are also thus solicited.

It is probable that pain is not experienced

THE GOODNESS OF THE DEITY.

509

where it is not needed; that, the lower we
descend in the scale of creation, there is less
sensitiveness to external influences which cause
pain in higher organizations.

In many instances no good purpose could
be subserved of warning, as in more highly
organized beings; thus, insects and crusta-
ceous animals seem to suffer mutilation with-
out apparent pain. The lobster, as already
noticed, voluntarily separates and throws off* a
limb. This inference from observation is sup-
ported by the comparative anatomy of the
nervous system, and is certainly more consistent
with our views of the goodness and benevolence
of the Deity. I believe also, that the use of
pain extends further than we suppose, or can
now trace ; that to disagreeable sensations we
and all animals owe, or have owed, many habits
of action which are salutary, but which are
become so familiar, as not easily to be referred
to their origin.

Pain also itself is not without its alleviations.
It may be violent and frequent ; but it is seldom
both violent and long continued : and its pauses
and intermissions become positive pleasures.
It has the power of shedding a satisfaction over
intervals of ease, which I believe few enjoyments
exceed. A man resting from a fit of the stone

510

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

or gout is^ for the time^ in possession of feelings
which undisturbed health cannot impart. They
may be dearly bought^ but still they are to be
set against the price. And indeed it depends
upon the duration and urgency of the pain^
whether they be dearly bought or not. I am
far from being sure^ that a man is not a gainer
by suffering a moderate interruption of bodily
ease for a couple of hours out of the four-and-
twenty. Two very common observations favour
this opinion : one is, that remissions of pain call
forth, from those who experience them, stronger
expressions of satisfaction and of gratitude to-
wards both the author and the instruments of
their relief, than are excited by advantages of
any other kind : the second is, that the spirits
of sick men do not sink in proportion to the
acuteness of their sufferings ; but rather appear
to be roused and supported, not by pain but by
the high degree of comfort which they derive
from its cessation, or even its subsidency, when-
ever that occurs ; and which they taste with a
relish that diffuses some portion of mental com-
placency over the whole of that mixed state of
sensations in which disease has placed them.

In connexion with bodily pain may be con-
sidered bodily disease, whether painful or not.
Few diseases are fatal. I have before me the

THE GOODNESS OP THE DEITY.

511

account of a dispensary in the neighbourhood,
which states six years^ experience as follows ; —

Admitted 6420

Cured 6476

Dead 234

And this I suppose nearly to agree with what
other similar institutions exhibit. Now, in all
these cases, some disorder must have been felt,
or the patients would not have applied for a
remedy ; yet we see how large a proportion of
the maladies, which were brought forward, have
either yielded to proper treatment, or, what is
more probable, ceased of their own accord. We
owe these frequent recoveries, and, where re-
covery does not take place, this patience of the
human constitution under many of the dis-
tempers by which it is visited, to two benefactions
of our nature. One is, that she works within
certain limits ; allows of a certain latitude within
which health may be preserved, and within the
confines of which it •only suffers a graduated^
diminution. Different quantities of food, dif-
ferent degrees of exercise, different portions of
sleep, different states of the atmosphere, are
compatible with the possession of health. So
likewise is it with the secretions and excretions,
with many internal functions of the body, and
with the state, probably, of most of its internal

bl2

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

organs. They may vary considerably, not only
without destroying life, but without occasioning
any high degree of inconveniency. The other
property of our nature, to which we are still
more beholden, is its constant endeavour to
restore itself, when disordered, to its regular
course. For that which we popularly call dis-
ease is usually the effort of nature to expel a
poison from the system, as in various eruptive
fevers. The struggle may terminate fatally ;
but without it, the poison must destroy life if
not eliminated.

Of mortal diseases the great use is to recon-
cile us to death. The horror of death proves the
value of life. But it is in the power of disease
to abate, or even extinguish, this horror ; which
it does in a wonderful manner, and oftentimes
by a mild and imperceptible gradation. Every
man who has been placed in a situation to ob-
serve it, is surprised with the change which has
been wrought in himself, when he compares the
view which he entertains of death upon a sick-
bed, with the heart-sinking dismay with which
he should some time ago have met it in health.
There is no similitude between the sensations of
a man led to execution, and the calm expiring of
a patient at the close of his disease. Death to
him is only the last of a long train of changes ;

THE GOODNESS OF THE DEITY.

513

in his progress through which it is possible
that he may experience no shocks or sudden
transitions.

Death itself^ as a mode of removal and of suc-
cession, is so connected with the whole order of
our animal worlds that almost everything yi that
world must be changed, to be able to do without
it. It may seem likewise impossible to separate
the fear of death from the enjoyment of life, or
the perception of that fear from rational natures.
Brutes are in a great measure delivered from all
anxiety on this account by the inferiority of
their faculties ; they seem to be armed with
the apprehension of death, or rather of injury,
just sufficiently to put them upon the means of
preservation, and no further. But would a
human being wish to purchase this immunity
at the expense of those mental powers which
enable him to look forward to the future ?

Death implies separation : and the loss of
those whom we love must necessarily, so far as
we can conceive, be accompanied with pain. To
the brute creation, nature seems to have stepped
in with some secret provision for their relief,
under the rupture of their attachments. In their
instincts towards their offspring, and of their
offspring to them, I have often been surprised
to observe how ardently they love, and how soon

L 1

514

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

they forget. The pertinacity of human sorrow
(upon which time also^ at length, lays its
softening hand) is probably, therefore, in some
manner connected with the qualities of our
rational or mortal nature. One thing however is
clear, viz. that it is better that we should possess
affections, the sources of so many virtues and
so many joys, although they be exposed to the
incidents of life, as well as the interruptions
of mortality, than, by the want of them, be
reduced to a state of selfishness, apathy, and
quietism.

Of other external evils (still confining our-
selves to what are called physical or natural
evils), a considerable part come within the scope
of the following observation : — The great prin-
ciple of human satisfaction is engagement. It is
a most just distinction, which the late Mr.
Tucker has dwelt upon so largely in his works,
between pleasures in which wq are passive, and
pleasures in which we are active. And, I believe,
every attentive observer of human life will assent
to his position, that however grateful the sen-
sations may occasionally be in which we are pas-
sive, it is not these, but the latter class of our
pleasures, which constitute satisfaction ; which
supply that regular stream of moderate and mis-
cellaneous enjoyments, in which happiness, as

THE GOODNESS OF THE DEITY.

515

distinguished from voluptuousness^ consists.
Now for rational occupation^ which is^ in other
words^ for the very material of contented ex-
istence^ there would be no place left^ if either
the things with which we had to do were abso-
lutely impracticable to our endeavours^ or if
they were too obedient to our uses. A worlds
furnished with advantages on one side, and beset
with difficulties, wants, and inconveniencies on
the other, is the proper abode of free, rational,
and active natures, being the fittest to stimulate
and exercise their faculties. The very refraoto-
riness of the objects they have to deal with con-
tributes to this purpose. A world in which
nothing depended upon ourselves, however it
might have suited an imaginary race of beings,
would not have suited mankind. Their skill,
prudence, industry ; their various arts, and their
best attainments, from the application of which
they draw, if not their highest, their most per-
manent gratifications, would be insignificant, if
things could be either moulded by our volitions,
or, of their own accord, conformed themselves
to our views and wishes. Now it is in this
refractoriness that we discern the seed and prin-
ciple physical evil, as far as it arises from that
which is external to us.

Civil evils, or the evils of civil life, are much

L 1 2

516

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

more easily disposed of than physical evils :
because they are^ in truth, of much less magni-
tude, and also because they result, by a kind of
necessity, not only from the constitution of our
nature, but from a part of that constitution
which no one would wish to see altered. The
case is this : Mankind will in every country
breed up to a certain point of distress. That
point may be different in different countries or
ages, according to the established usages of life
in each. It will also shift upon the scale, so as
to admit of a greater or less number of inhabi-
tants, according as the quantity of provision,
which is either produced in the country or
supplied to it from other countries, may happen
to vary. But there must always be such a point,
and the species will always breed up to it. The
order of generation proceeds by something like
a geometrical progression. The increase of pro-
vision, under circumstances even the most ad-
vantageous, can only assume the form of an
arithmetic series. Whence it follows, that the
population will always overtake the provision,
will pass beyond the line of plenty, and will con-
tinue to increase till checked by the difficulty of
procuring subsistence. Such difficulty, therefore^
along with its attendant circumstances, imist
be found in every old country : and these circum-

THE GOODNESS OF THE DEITY.

517

stances constitute what we call poverty^ which
necessarily imposes labour^ servitude^ restraint.

It seems impossible to people a country with
inhabitants who shall be all easy in circum-
stances. For suppose the thing to be done,
there would be such marrying and giving in
marriage amongst them, as would in a few
years change the face of affairs entirely ; i. e.
as would increase the consumption of those
articles, which supplied the natural or habitual
wants of the country, to such a degree of
scarcity, as must leave the greatest part of the
inhabitants unable to procure them without
toilsome endeavours, or, out of the different
kinds of these articles, to procure any kind
except that which was most easily produced.
And this, in fact, describes the condition of
the mass of the community in all countries :
a condition unavoidably, as it should seem,
resulting from the provision which is made
in the human, in common with all animal con-
stitutions, for the perpetuity and multiplication
of the species.

It need not however dishearten any endea-
vours for the public service, to know that
population naturally treads upon the heels of
improvement. If the condition of a people be
meliorated, the consequence will be, either that

518

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

the mean happiness will be increased, or a
greater number partake of it ; or, which is most
likely to happen, that both effects will take
place together. There may be limits fixed by
nature to both, but they are limits not yet
attained, nor even approached, in any country
of the world.

And when we speak of limits at all, we have
respect only to provisions for animal wants.
There are sources, and means, and auxiliaries, and
augmentations of human happiness, communi-
cable without restriction or numbers ; as capable
of being possessed by a thousand persons as by
one. Such are those which flow from a mild,
contrasted with a tyrannic, government, whether
civil or domestic; those which spring from
religion; those which grow out of a sense of se-
curity ; those which depend upon habits of virtue,
sobriety, moderation, order ; those, lastly, which
are found in the possession of well-directed
tastes and desires, compared with the dominion
of tormenting, pernicious, contradictory, un-
satisfied, and unsatisfiable passions.

The dhtinctions of civil life are apt enough
to be regarded as evils, by those who sit under
them ; but, in my opinion, with very little
reason.

In the first place, the advantages which the

THE GOODNESS OF THE DEITY.

519

higher conditions of life are supposed to confer,
bear no proportion in value to the advantages
which are bestowed by nature. The gifts of
nature always surpass the gifts of fortune.
How much, for example, is activity better than
attendance ; beauty than dress ; appetite, di-
gestion, and tranquil bowels, than all the
studies of cookery, or than the most costly
compilation of forced, or far-fetched dainties !

Nature has a strong tendency to equalization.
Habit, the instrument of nature, is a great
leveller ; the familiarity which it induces taking
off the edge both of our pleasures and our
sufferings. Indulgencies which are habitual
keep us in ease, and cannot be carried much
further : indeed, by becoming necessary to us,
privation of them becomes an evil. Further-
more, the pleasure of acquisition is denied, in
great measure, to him whose wants are gratified
almost as soon as suggested. So that, with
respect to the gratifications of which the senses
are capable, the difference is by no means pro-
portionable to the apparatus. Nay, so far as
superfluity generates fastidiousness, the differ-
ence is on the wix)ng side.

It is not necessary to contend, that the advan-
tages derived from wealth are none (under due
regulatiop^>they are certainly considerable), but

520

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

that they are not greater than they ought to be..
Money is the sweetener of human toil ; the sub-
stitute for coercion; the reconciler of labour with
liberty. It is^ moreover, the stimulant of enter-
prise in all projects and undertakings, as well as
of diligence in the most beneficial arts and em-
ployments. Now did affluence, when possessed,
contribute nothing to happiness, or nothing be-
yond the mere -supply of necessaries; and the
secret should come to be discovered; we might
be in danger of losing great part of the uses,
which are at j)resent derived to us through this
important medium. Not only would the tran-
quillity of social life be put in peril, by the
want of a motive to attach men to their private
concerns ; but the satisfaction which all men
receive from success in their respective occu-
pations, which collectively constitutes the great
mass of human comfort, would be done away
in its very principle.

With respect to station ^ as it is distinguished
from riches, whether it confer authority over
others, or be invested with honours which apply
solely to sentiment and imagination, the truth
is, that which is gained by rising through the
ranks of life is not more than sufficient to
draw forth the exertions of those who are
engaged in the pursuits which lead to advance-

THE GOODNESS OF THE DEITY.

521

ment^ and which in general are such as ought
to be encouraged. Distinctions of this sort are
subjects much more of competition than of
enjoyment : and in that competition their use
consists. It is not, as hath been rightly
observed, by what the Lord Mayor feels in his
coach, but by what the apprentice feels who
gazes at him, that the public is served.

As we approach the summits of human great-
ness, the comparison of good and evil, with
respect to personal comfort, becomes still more
problematical ; even allowing to ambition all its
pleasures. The poet asks, What is grandeur,
what is power The philosopher answers.

Constraint and plague : et in maxima qudque
fortund minimum licerey One very common
error misleads the opinion of’ mankind on this
head, viz. that, universally, authority is pleasant,
submission painful. In the general course of
human affairs, the very reverse of this is nearer
to the truth. Command is anxiety, obedience
ease. Distinction and an elevated position have,
as their associates, care and responsibility.

Artificial distinctions sometimes promote real
equality. Whether they be hereditary, or be the
homage paid to office, or the respect attached by
public opinion to particular professions, they
serve to confront that grand and unavoidable

522

NATURAL i’HEOLOGY.

distinction which arises from property^ and
which is most overbearing where there is no
other. It is of the nature of property not
only to be regularly distributed^ but to run
into large masses. Public laws should be so con-
structed as to favour its diffusion as much as
they can. But all that can be done by laws
consistently with that degree of government of
his property which ought to be left to the sub-
ject, will not be sufficient to counteract this
tendency. There must always therefore be the
difference between rich and poor ; and this dif-
ference will be the more grinding, when no
pretension is allowed to be set up against it.

So that the evils, if evils they must be called,
which spring either from the necessary subor-
dinations of civil life, or from the distinctions
which have, naturally, though not necessarily,
grown up in most societies, so long as they are
unaccompanied by privileges injurious or oppres-
sive to the rest of the community, are such as
may, even by the most depressed ranks, be en-
dured with very little prejudice to their comfort.

The mischiefs of which mankind are the occa-
sion to one another, by their private wickedness
and cruelties ; by tyrannical exercises of power ;
by rebellions against just authority; by wars;
by national jealousies and competitions operating

THE GOODNESS OE THE DEITY.

523

to the destruction of countries ; or by other
instances of misconduct either in individuals or
societies^ are all to be resolved into the character
of man as a free agent. Free agency in its very
essence contains liability to abuse. Yet^ if you
deprive man of his free agency^ you subvert his
nature. You may have order from him and
regularity, as you may from the tides or the
trade-winds, but you put an end to his moral
character, to virtue, to merit, to accountableness,
to the use indeed of reason. To which must be
added the observation, that even the bad qualities
nf mankind have an origin in their good ones.
The case is this : human passions are either
necessary to human welfare, or capable of being
made, and in a great majority of instances, in
fact, are made, conducive to its happiness. These
passions are strong and general ; and perhaps
would not answer their purpose unless they were
so. But strength and generality, when it is
expedient that particular circumstances should
be respected, become, if left to themselves, excess
and misdirection. From which excess and mis-
direction the vices of mankind (the causes no
doubt of much misery) appear to spring. This
account, whilst it shows us the principle of vice,
shows us, at the same time, the province of
reason and of self-government ; the want also

524

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

of every support which can be procured to either
from the aids of religion ; and it shows this^
without having recourse to any native gratui-
tous malignity in the human constitution. Mr.
Hume, in his posthumous dialogues, asserts
indeed of idleness y or aversion to labour (which
he states to lie at the root of a considerable part
of the evils which mankind suffer), that it is
simple and merely bad. But how does he dis-
tinguish idleness from the love of ease ? or is he
sure that the love of ease in individuals is not
the chief foundation of social tranquillity? It
will be found, I believe, to be true, that in every
community there is a large class of its members,
whose idleness is the best quality about them,
being the corrective of other bad ones. If it
were possible, in every instance, to give a right
determination to industry, we could never have
too much of it. But this is not possible, if men
are to be free. And without this, nothing would
be so dangerous, as an incessant, universal, in-
defatigable activity. In the civil world, as well
as in the material, it is the vis inertice which
keeps things in their places.

Natural Theology has ever been pressed
with this question ; Why, under the regency of
a supreme and benevolent Will, should there be,^

THE GOODNESS OF THE DEITY.

525

in the world, so much as there is of the appear-
ance of chance ?

The question in its whole compass lies beyond
our reach : but there are not wanting^ as in the
origin of evil, answers which seem to have con-
siderable weight in particular cases, and also to
embrace a considerable number of cases.

I. There must be chance in the midst of de-
sign : by which we mean, that events which are
not designed necessarily arise from the pursuit
of events which are designed. One man travel-
ling to York meets another man travelling to
London. Their meeting is by chance, is acci-
dental, and so would be called and reckoned,
though the journeys which produced the meet-
ing were both of them undertaken with design
and from deliberation. The meeting, though
accidental, was nevertheless hypothetically ne-
cessary (which is the only sort of necessity that
is intelligible) : for, if the two journeys were
commenced at the time, pursued in the direction,
and with the speed in which and with which
they were in fact begun and performed, the
meeting could not be avoided. There was not .
therefore the less necessity in it for its being by
chance. Again, the rencounter might be most
unfortunate, though the errands, upon which
each party set out upon his journey, were the

526

NATUKAL THEOLOGY.

most innocent or the most laudable. The by-
effect may be unfavourable^ without impeach-
ment of tbc? proper purpose^ for the sake of
which the train^ from the operation of which
these consequences ensued^ was put in motion.
Although no cause acts without a good pur-
pose^ accidental consequences, like these, may
be either good or bad.

II. The ajppearance of chance will always bear
a proportion to the ignorance of the observer.
The cast of a die as regularly follows the laws
of motion, as the going of a vratch ; yet
because we can trace the operation of those
laws through the works and movements of the
watch, and cannot trace them in the shaking
and throwing of the die (though the laws be the
same, and prevail equally in both cases), we
call the turning up of the number of the die
chance, the pointing of the index of the watch
machinery, order, or by some name which
excludes chance. It is the same in those events
which depend upon the will of a free and rational
agent. The verdict of a jury, the sentence of a
judge, the resolution of an assembly, the issue
of a contested election, will have more or less of
the appearance of chance, might be more or less
the subject of a wager, according as we were less
or more acquainted with the reasons which in-

THE GOODNESS OF THE DEITY.

527

fluenced the deliberation. The difference resides
in the information of the observer, and not in
the thing itself ; which, in all the cases proposed,
proceeds from intelligence, from mind, from
counsel, from design.

Now when this one cause of the appearance
of chance, viz. the ignorance of the observer,
comes to be applied to the operations of the
Deity, it is easy to foresee how fruitful it must
prove of difficulties, and of seeming confusion.
It is only to think of the Deity, to perceive
what variety of objects, what distance of time,
what extent of space and action, His counsels
may, or rather must, comprehend. Can it
be wondered at, that, of the purposes which
dwell in such a mind as this, so small a part
should be known to us ? It is only necessary,
therefore, to bear in our thought, that in pro-
portion to the inadequateness of our information
will be the quantity, in the world, of apparent
chance.

III. In a great variety of cases, and of cases
comprehending numerous subdivisions, it ap-
pears, for many reasons, to be better that events
rise up by chance^ or, more properly speaking,
with the appearance of chance, than according
to any observable rule whatever. This is not
seldom the case even in human arrangements.

523

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

Each personas place and precedency,, in a public
meetings may be determined by lot. Work
and labour may be allotted. Tasks and burdens
may be allotted : —

Operumque laborem

Partibus sequabat justis, aut sorie trabebat.

Military service and station may be allotted.
The distribution of provision may be made by
loty as it is in a sailor^s mess ; in some cases also,
the distribution of favours may be made by lot.
In all these cases it seems to be acknowledged,
that there are advantages in permitting events
to chance, superior to those which would or
could arise from regulation. In all these cases,
also, though events rise up in the way of chance,
it is by appointment that they do so.

In other events, and such as are independent
of human will, the reasons for this preference
of uncertainty to rule appear to be still stronger.
For example, it seems to be expedient that the
period of human life should be uncertain. Did
mortality follow any fixed rule, it would produce
a security in those that were at a distance from
it, which would lead to the greatest disorders ;
and a horror in those who approach it, similar
to that which a condemned prisoner feels on the
night before his execution ; but that death be
uncertain, the young must sometimes die, as

THE GOODNESS OF THE DEITY.

529

well as the old. Also were deaths never sudden^
they who are in health would be too confident of
life. The strong and the active^ who want most
to be warned and checked^ would live without
apprehension or restraint. On the other hand,
were sudden deaths very frequent, the sense of
constant jeopardy would interfere too much
with the degree of ease and enjoyment intended
for us ; and human life be too precarious for the
business and interests which belong to it.
There could not be dependence either upon
our own lives, or the lives of those with whom
we are connected, suiBScient to carry on the
regular offices of human society. The manner,
therefore, in which death is made to occur,
conduces to the purposes of admonition, with-
out overthrowing the necessary stability of
human affairs.

Disease being the forerunner of death, there .
is the same reason for its attacks coming upon
us under the appearance of chance, as there is
for uncertainty in the time of death itself.

The seasons are a mixture of regularity and
chance. They are regular enough to authorize
expectation, whilst their being in a considerable
degree irregular induces, on the part of the
cultivators of the soil, a necessity for personal
attendance, for activity, vigilance, precaution.

M m

530

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

It is this necessity which creates farmers ; which
divides the profit* of the soil between the owner
and the occupier; which, by requiring expe-
dients, by increasing employment, and by re-
warding expenditure, promotes agricultural arts
and agricultural life, of all modes of life the
best, being the most conducive to health, to
virtue, to enjoyment. I believe it to be found
in fact, that where the soil is the most fruitful,
and the seasons the most constant, there the
condition of the cultivators of the earth is the
most depressed. Uncertainty, therefore, has its
use even to those who sometimes complain of it
the most. Seasons of scarcity themselves are
not without their advantages. They call forth
new exertions ; they set contrivance and in-
genuity at work ; they give birth to improve-
ments in agriculture and economy ; they pro-
mote the investigation and management of
public resources.

Again ; there are strong intelligible reasons,
why there should exist in human society great
disparity of wealth and station; not only as
these things are acquired in different degrees,
but at the first setting out of life. In order,
for instance, to answer the various demands of
civil life, there ought to be amongst the mem-
bers of every civil society a diversity of educa-

THE GOODNESS OE THE DEITY.

531

tion, which can only belong to an original
diversity of circumstances. As this sort of
disparity^ which ought to take place from the
beginning of life, must, ex hypothesiy be previous
to the merit or demerit of the persons upon
whom it falls, can it be better disposed of than
by chance ? Parentage is that sort of chance :
yet it is the commanding circumstance which
in general fixes each man^s place in civil life,
along with everything which appertains to its
distinctions. It may be the result of a bene-
ficial rule, that the fortunes or honours of the
father devolve upon the son ; and, as it should
seem, of a still more necessary rule, that the
low or laborious condition of the parent be com-
municated to his family ; but with respect to the
successor himself, it is the drawing of a ticket
in a lottery. Inequalities therefore of fortune,
at least the greatest part of them, viz. those
which attend us from our birth and depend
upon our birth, may be left, as they are left, to
chance y without any just cause for questioning
the regency of a supreme Disposer of events.

But not only the donation, when by the
necessity of the case they must be gifts, but
even the acquirahility of civil advantages ought,
perhaps, in a considerable degree, to lie at the
mercy of chance. Some would have all the
M ni 2

532

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

virtuous rich^ or at least removed from the evils
of poverty, without perceiving, I suppose, the
consequence, that all the poor must be wicked.
And how such a society could be kept in sub-
jection to government has not been shown : for
the poor, that is, they who seek their subsist-
ence by constant manual labour, must still form
the mass of the community ; otherwise the
necessary labour of life could not be carried on ;
the work would not be done, which the wants
of mankind in a state of civilization, and still
more in a state of refinement, require to be done.

It appears to be also true, that the exigencies
of social life call not only for an original diver-
sity of external circumstances, but for a mixture
of different faculties, tastes, and tempers. Ac-
tivity and contemplation, restlessness and quiet,
courage and timidity, ambition and contented-
ness, not to say even indolence and dulness, are
all wanted in the world, all conduce to the well
going on of human affairs, just as the rudder,
the sails and the ballast of a ship, all perform
their part in the navigation. Now, since these
characters require for their foundation different
original talents, different dispositions, perhaps
also different bodily constitutions; and since
likewise it is apparently expedient, that they be
promiscuously scattered amongst the different

THE GOODNESS OF THE DEITY.

533

classes of society : can the distribution of talents,
dispositions, and the constitutions upon which
they depend, be better made than by chance ?

The opposites of apparent chance are con-
stancy and sensible interposition ; every degree
of secret direction being consistent with it.
Now of constancy y or of fixed and known rules,
we have seen in some cases the inapplicability :
and inconveniences which we do not see, might
attend their application in other cases.

Of sensible interposition we may be permitted
to remark, that a Providence, always and cer-
tainly distinguishable, would be neither more
nor less than miracles rendered frequent and
common. It is diflScult to judge of the state
into which this would throw us. It is enough
to say, that it would cast us upon a quite dif-
ferent dispensation from that under which we
live. It would be a total and radical change.
And the change would deeply affect, or perhaps
subvert, the whole conduct of human affairs. I
can readily believe that, other circumstances
being adapted to it, such a state might be better
than our present state. It may be the state of
other beings ; it may be ours hereafter. But
the question with which we are now concerned
is, how far it would be consistent with our con-
dition, supposing it in other respects to remain

534

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

as it is ? And in this question there seem to be
reasons of great moment on the negative side.
For instance, so long as bodily labour continues,
on so many accounts, to be necessary for the
bulk of mankind, any dependency upon super-
natural aid, by unfixing those motives which pro-
mote exertion, or by relaxing those habits which
engender patient industry, might introduce
negligence, inactivity and disorder, into the most
useful occupations of human life; and thereby
deteriorate the condition of human life itself.

As moral agents we should experience a still
greater alteration ; of which more will be said
under the next article.

Although therefore the Deity, who possesses
the power of winding and turning, as He pleases,
the course of causes which issue from Himself,
do in fact interpose to alter and intercept effects,
which without such interposition would have
taken place; yet it is by no means incredible
that His Providence, which always rests upon
final good, may have made a reserve with
respect to the manifestation of His interference
a part of the very plan which He has appointed
for our terrestrial existence, and a part conform-
able with, or in some sort required by, other
parts of the same plan. It is at any rate
evident, that a large and ample province remains

THE GOODNESS OP rHE DEITY.

535

for the exercise of Providence^ without its being
naturally perceptible by us ; because obscurity,
when applied to the interruption of laws, bears
a necessary proportion to the imperfection of
our knowledge when applied to the laws them-
selves, or rather to the effects which these laws,
under their various and incalculable combina-
tions, would of their own accord produce. And
if it be said that the doctrine of Divine Pro-
vidence, by reason of the ambiguity under which
its exertions present themselves, can be attended
with no practical influence upon our conduct;
that, although we believe ever so firmly that
there is a Providence, we must prepare, and
provide, and act, as if there were none ; I
answer, that this is admitted ; and that we
further allege, that so to prepare, and so to
provide, is consistent with the most perfect
assurance of the reality of a Providence : and
not only so, but that it is probably one advan-
tage of the present state of our information,
that our provisions and preparations are not
disturbed by it. Or if it be still asked, of
what use at all then is the doctrine, if it nei-
ther alter our measures nor regulate our conduct ?
I answer again, that it is of the greatest use, but
that it is a doctrine of sentiment and piety, not
(immediately at least) of action or conduct;

536

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

Aat it applies to the consolation of men^s minds,
to their devotions, to the excitement of grati-
tude, the support of patience, the keeping alive
and the strengthening of every motive for
endeavouring to please our Maker ; and that
these are great uses.

Of all views under which human life has
ever been considered, the most reasonable in my
judgment is that which regards it as a state of
probation. If the course of the world was sepa-
rated from the contrivances of nature, I do not
know that it would be necessary to look for any
other account of it than what, if it may be
called an account, is contained in the answer,
that events rise up by chance. But ‘since the
contrivances of nature decidedly evince intention ;
and since the course of the world and the con-
trivances of nature have the same author ; we
are, by the force of this connexion, led to believe,
that the appearance under which events take
place is reconcilable with the supposition of
design on the part of the Deity. It is enough
that they be reconcilable with this supposition ;
and it is undoubtedly true, that they may be
reconcilable, though we cannot reconcile them.
The mind, however, which contemplates the
works of nature, and in those works sees so
much of means directed to ends, of beneficial

THE GOODNESS OP THE DEITY.

537

effects brought about by wise expedients, of
concerted trains of causes terminating in the
happiest results ; so much, in a word, of counsel,
intention, and benevolence: a mind, I say,
drawn into the habit of thought which these
observations excite, can hardly turn its view to
the condition of our own species, without endea-
vouring to suggest to itself some purpose, some
design, for which the state in which we are
placed is fitted, and which it is made to serve.
Now we assert the most probable supposition to
be, that it is a state of moral probation; and
that many things in it suit with this hypothesis,
which suit no other. It is not a state of un-
mixed happiness, or of happiness simply : it is
not a state of designed misery, or of misery
simply : it is not a state of retribution : it is
not a state of punishment. It suits with none
of these suppositions. It accords much better
with the idea of its being a condition calculated
for the production, exercise, and improvement
of moral qualities, with a view to a future state,
in which these qualities, after being so produced,
exercised, and improved, may, by a new and
more favouring constitution of things, receive
their reward, or become their own. If it be
said, that this is to enter upon a religious rather
than a philosophical consideration, I answer.

538

NATUEAL THEOLOGY.

that the name of Religion ought to form no
objection, if it shall turn out to be the case;
that the more religious our views are, the more
probability they contain. The degree of bene-
ficence, of benevolent intention, and of power,
exercised in the construction of sensitive beings,
goes strongly in favour, not only of a creative,
but of a continuing care, that is, of a ruling
Providence. The degree of chance, which appears
to prevail in the world, requires to be reconciled
with this hypothesis. Now it is one thing to
maintain the doctrine of Providence along with
that of a future state, and another thing without
it. In my opinion, the two doctrines must
stand or fall together. For although more of
this apparent chance may perhaps, upon other
principles, be accounted for, than is generally
supposed, yet a future state alone rectifies all
disorders : and if it can be shown, that the
appearance of disorder is consistent with the
uses of life as a preparatory state, or that in
some respects it promotes these uses, then, so
far as this hypothesis may be accepted, the
ground of the difficulty is done away.

In the wide scale of human condition, there
Js not perhaps one of its manifold diversities
which does not bear upon the design here sug-
gested. Virtue is infinitely various. There is

THE GOODNESS OF THE DEITY.

539

no situation in which a rational being is placed,
from that of the best instructed Christian down
to the condition of the rudest barbarian, which
affords not room for moral agency ; for the acqui-
sition, exercise and display of voluntary qualities,
good and bad. Health and sickness, enjoyment
and suffering, riches and poverty, knowledge and
ignorance, power and subjection, liberty and
bondage, civilization and barbarity, have all
their offices and duties, all serve for the forma-
tion of character : for when we speak of a state
of trial, it must be remembered that characters
are not only tried, or proved, or detected, but
that they are generated also, and formed^ by
circumstances. The best dispositions may sub-
sist under the most depressed, the most aflSiicted
fortunes. An oppressed slave, who, amidst
his wrongs, retains his benevolence, I for my
part look upon as amongst the foremost of
human candidates for the rewards of virtue.
The kind master of such a slave, that is, he,
who in the exercise of an inordinate authority,
postpones in any degree his own interest to his
slave'^s comfort, is likewise a meritorious cha-
racter : but still he is inferior to his slave. All
however which I contend for is, that these
destinies, opposite as they may be in every other
view, are both trials; and equall}^ such. The

540

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

observation may be applied to every other con-
dition ; to the whole range of the scale, not
excepting even its lowest extremity. Savages
appear to us all alike ; but it is owing to the
distance at which we view savage life, that we
perceive in it no discrimination of character. I
make no doubt but that moral qualities, both
good and bad, are called into action as much,
and that they subsist in as great variety in
these inartificial societies, as they are, or do, in
polished life. Certain at least it is, that the
good and ill treatment which each individual
meets with depends more upon the choice and
voluntary conduct of those about him, than it
does or ought to do, under regular civil institu-
tions and the coercion of public laws. So
again, to turn our eyes to the other end of the
scale, namely, that part of it which is occupied
by mankind enjoying the benefits of learning,
together with the lights of revelation, there
also, the advantage is all along probationary ,
Christianity itself, I mean the revelation of
Christianity, is not only a blessing but a trial.
It is one of the diversified means by which the
character is exercised : and they who require of
Christianity, that the revelation of it should be
universal, may possibly be found to require
that one species of probation should be adopted.

THE GOODNESS OF THE DEITY.

541

if not to the exclusion of others, at least to the
narrowing of that variety which the wisdom of
the Deity hath appointed to this part of His
moral economy.^

Now if this supposition be well founded;
that is, if it be true that our ultimate or our
most permanent happiness will depend, not
upon the temporary condition into which we
are cast, but upon our behaviour in it ; then is
it a much more fit subject of chance than we
usually allow or apprehend it to be, in what
manner the variety of external circumstances,
which subsist in the human world, is distributed
amongst the individuals of the species. This
life being a state of probation, it is immateriaV^
says Rousseau, what kind of trials we expe-
rience in it, provided they produce their effects.*^^
Of two agents who stand indifferent to the
moral Governor of the universe, one may be
exercised by riches, the other by poverty. The

1 The reader will observe, that I speak of the revelation
of Chiistianitj as distinct from Christianity itself. The
dispensation may already be universal. That part of man-
kind which never heard of Christ’s name may neverthe-
less be redeemed ; that is, be placed in a better condition,
with respect to their future state, by His intervention ;
may be the objects of His benignity and intercession, as
well as of the propitiatory virtue of His passion. But this
is not ‘‘ natural theology ; ” therefore I will not dwell
longer upon it.

542

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

treatment of these two shall appear to be
very opposite^ whilst in truth it is the same :
for though in many respects there be great
disparity between the conditions assigned, in
one main article there may be none, viz. in that
they are like trials ; have both their duties and
temptations, not less arduous or less dangerous
in one case than the other ; so that if the final
award follow the character, the original distri-
bution of the circumstances under which that
character is formed may be defended upon
principles not only of justice but of equality.
What hinders, therefore, but that mankind may
draw lots for their condition ? They take their
portion of faculties and opportunities, as any
unknown cause, or concourse of causes, or as
causes acting for other purposes, may happen to
set them out; but the event is governed by
that which depends upon themselves, the appli-
cation of what they have received. In dividing
the talents no rule was observed ; none was
necessary : in rewarding the use of them, that
of the most correct justice. The chief difference
at last appears to be, that the right use of more
talents, i. e. of a greater trust, will be more
highly rewarded, than the right use of fewer
talents, i. e. of a less trust. And since, for
other purposes, it is expedient that there be an

THE GOODNESS OF THE DEITY.

543

inequality of concredited talents here, as well
probably as an inequality of conditions hereafter,
though all remuneratory^ can any rule, adapted
to that inequality, be more agreeable^ even to our
apprehensions of distributive justice, than this is?

We have said that the appearance of camalty,
which attends the occurrences and events of life,
not only does not interfere with its uses, as a state
of probation, but that it promotes these uses.

Passwe virtues, of all others the severest and
the most sublime; of all others perhaps the
most acceptable to the Deity ; w^ould, it is
evident, be excluded from a constitution in
which happiness and misery regularly followed
virtue and vice. Patience and composure under
distress, afl3iction, and pain; a steadfast keep-
ing up of our confidence in God, and of our
reliance upon His final goodness, at the time
when everything present is adverse and dis-
couraging; and (what is no less difficult to
retain) a cordial desire for the happiness of
others, even when we are deprived of our own :
these dispositions, which constitute, perhaps, the
perfection of our moral nature, would not have
found their proper oflSce and object in a state of
avowed retribution ; and in which, consequently,
endurance of evil would be only submission to
punishment.

544

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

Again : one man^s sufferings may be another
man^s trial. The family of a sick parent is a
school of filial piety. The charities of domestic
life, and not only these, but all the social virtues,
are called out by distress. But then, misery, to
be the proper object of mitigation, or of that
benevolence which endeavours to relieve, must
be really or apparently casual. It is upon sucb
sufferings alone that benevolence can operate-
For were there no evils in the world, but what
were punishments, properly and intelligibly
such, benevolence would only stand in the way
of justice. Such evils, consistently with the
administration of moral government, could not
be prevented or alleviated, that is to say, could
not be remitted in whole or in part, except by
the authority which inflicted them, or by an
appellate or superior authority. This considera-
tion, which is founded in our most acknowledged
apprehensions of the nature of penal justice,
may possess its weight in the Divine councils.
Virtue perhaps is the greatest of all ends. In
human beings, relative virtues form a large part
of the whole. Now relative virtue presupposes
not only the existence of evil, without which it
could have no object, no material to work upon,
but that evils be, apparently at least, misfortunes ;
that is, the effects of apparent chance. It may

THE GOODNESS OF THE DEITY.

515

be in pursuance^ therefore, and in furtherance
of the same scheme of probation^ that the evils
of life are made so to present themselves.

I have already observed, that, when we let in
religious considerations, we often let in light
upon the difficulties of nature. So in the fact
now to be accounted for, the degree of happiness^
which we usually enjoy in this life, may be
better suited to a state of trial and probation,
than a greater degree would be. The truth is,
we are rather too much delighted with the
world, than too little. Imperfect, broken and
precarious as our pleasures are, they are more
than sufficient to attach us to the eager pursuit
of them. A regard to future state can hardly
keep its place as it is. If we were designed
therefore to be influenced by that regard, might
not a more indulgent system, a higher or more
uninterrupted state of gratification, have in-
terfered with the design? At least it seems
expedient that mankind should be susceptible
of this influence, when presented to them : that
the condition of the world should not be such
as to exclude its operation, or even to weaken
it more than it does. In a religious view (how-
ever we may complain of them in every other),
privation, disappointment, and satiety, are not
without the most salutary tendencies.

N n

546

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

CHAPTER XXVIL

CONCLUSION.

In all cases, wherein the mind feels itself in
danger of being confounded by variety, it is
sure to rest upon a few strong points, or per-
haps upon a single instance. Amongst a mul-
titude of proofs, it is one that does the business.
If w^e observe, in any argument, that hardly two
minds fix upon the same instance, the diversity
of choice shpws the strength of the argument,
because it shows the number and competition of
the examples. ^ There is no subject in which the
tendency to dwell upon select or single topics is
so usual, because there is no subject of which,
in its full extent, the latitude is so great, as
that of natural history applied to the proof of
an intelligent Creator. For my part, I take my
stand in human anatomy ; and the examples of
mechanism I should be apt to draw out from
the copious catalogue which it supplies, are the

CONCLUSION.

547

pivot upon which the head turns, the ligament
within the socket of the hip-joint, the pulley or
trochlear muscles of the eye, the epiglottis, the
bands which tie down the tendons of the
wrist and instep, the slit or perforated tendons
at the hands and feet, the attachment of the
intestines to the mesentery, the course of the
chyle into the blood, and the constitution of the
sexes as extended throughout the whole of the
animal creation. To these instances the reader^s
memory will go back, as they are severally set
forth in their places ; there is not one of the
number which I do not think decisive ; not one
which is not strictly mechanical ; nor have I
read or heard of any solution of these appear-
ances, which, in the smallest degree, shakes the
conclusion that we build upon them.

But, of the greatest part of those, who,
either in this book or any other, read arguments
to prove the existence of a God, it will be said,
that they leave off only where they began ; that
they were never ignorant of this great truth,
never doubted of it ; that it does not therefore
appear, what is gained by researches from which
no new opinion is learnt, and upon the subject
of which no proofs were wanted. Now, I
answer that, by investigation^ the following
points are always gained, in favour of doctrines
N n 2

548

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

even the most generally acknowledged (suppos-
ing them to he true), viz. stability and impres-
sion. Occasions will arise to try the firmness,
of our most habitual opinions. And upon these
occasions, it is a matter of incalculable use to
feel our foundation ; to find a support in argu-
ment for what we had taken up upon authority.
In the present case, the arguments upon which
the conclusion rests are exactly such as a truth
of universal concern ought to rest upon. They
are sufficiently open to the views and capacities
of the unlearned, at the same time that they
acquire new strength and lustre from the dis-
coveries of the learned/^ If they had been
altogether abstruse and recondite, they \vould
not have found their way to the understandings
of the mass of mankind ; if they had been
merely popular, they might have wanted so-
lidity.

But, secondly, what is gained by research in
the stability of our conclusion, is also gained
from it in impression. Physicians tell us, that
there is a great deal of difference between
taking a medicine, and the medicine getting
into the constitution. A difference, not unlike
this, obtains with respect to those great
moral propositions, which ought to form the
directing principles of human conduct. It is

CONCLUSION.

549

one thing to assent to a proposition of this sort ;
another, and a very different thing, to have
properly imbibed its influence. I take the case
to be this : perhaps almost every man living
has a particular train of thought, into which
his mind glides and falls, when at leisure from
the impressions and ideas that Occasionally ex-
cite it ; perhaps, also, the train of thought here
spoken of, more than any other thing, deter-
mines the character. It is of the utmost con-
sequence, therefore, that this property of our
constitution be well regulated. Now it is by
frequent or continued meditation upon a sub-
ject, by placing a subject in different points of
view, by induction of particulars, by variety of
examples, by applying principles to the solution
of phenomena, by dwelling upon proofs and
consequences, that mental exercise is drawn
into any particular channel. It is by these
means, at least, that we have any power over
it. The train of spontaneous thought, and the
choice of that train, may be directed to different
ends, and may appear to be more or less judi-
ciously fixed, according to the '’purpose in re-
spect of which we consider it : but, in a moral
view, I shall not, I believe, be contradicted
when I say that, if one train of thinking be
more desirable then another, it is that which

650

NATUEAL THEOLOGY.

regards the phenomena of nature with a con-
stant reference to a supreme intelligent Author.
To have made this the ruling, the habitual
sentiment of our minds, is to have laid the
foundation of everything which is religioi>s.
The world thenceforth becomes a temple, and
life itself one continued act of adoration. The
change is no less than this, that, whereas for-
merely God was seldom in our thoughts, we can
now scarcely look upon anything without per-
ceiving its relation to Him. Every organized
natural body, in the provisions which it con-
tains for its sustentation and propagation,
testifies a care, on the part of the Creator,
expressly directed to these purposes. We are
on all sides surrounded by such bodies; exa-
mined in their parts, wonderfully curious ; com-
pared with one another, no less wonderfully
diversified. So that the mind, as well as the eye,
may either expatiate in variety and multitude, or
fix itself down to the investigation of particular
divisions of the science. And in either case it
will rise up from its occupation, possessed by
the subject in a veiy different manner, and
with a very different degree of influence, from
what a more assent to any verbal proposition
which can be formed concerning the existence
of the Deity, at least that merely complying

CONCLUSION.

551

assent with which those about us are satisfied^
and with which we are too apt to satisfy our-
selves^ will or can produce upon the thoughts.
More especially may this difference be perceived,
in the degree of admiration and of awe with
which the Divinity is regarded, when repre-
sented to the understanding by its own remarks,
its own reflections and its own reasonings, com-
pared with what is excited by any language
that can be used by others. The works of
nature want only to be contemplated. When
contemplated, they have everything in them
which can astonish by their greatness : for, of
the vast scale of operation, through which our
discoveries carry us, at one end we see an in-
telligent Power arranging planetary systems,
fixing, for instance, the trajectory of Saturn^
or constructing a ring of two hundred thousand
miles diameter, to surround his body, and be
suspended like a magnificent arch over the heads
of his inhabitants ; and, at the other, bending
a hooked tooth, concerting and providing an
appropriate mechanism for the clasping and
reclasping of the filaments of the feather of the
humming-bird. We have proof, not only of
both these works proceeding from an intelligent
agent, but of their proceeding from the same
agent ; for, in the first place, we can trace an

652

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

identity of plan, a connexion of system, from
Saturn to our own globe : and when arrived
upon our globe, we can, in the second place,
pursue the connexion through all fee organized,
especially the animated, bodies which it supports.
We can observe marks of a common relation, as
well to one another, as to the ehments of which
their habitation is composed. Therefore one
mind hath planned, or at least hath prescribed,
a general plan for all these productions. One
Being has been concerned in all.

Under this stupendons Being we live. Our
happiness, our existence, is in His hands. All
we expect must come from Him. Nor ought
we to feel our situation insecure. In every
nature, and in every portion of nature, which
we can descry, we find attention bestowed upon
even the minutest parts. The hinges in the
wings of an earwig^ and the joints of its an-
tennae, are as highly wrought, as if the Creator
had nothing else to finish. We see no signs of
diminution of care by multiplicity of objects, or
of distraction of thought by variety. We have
no reason to fear, therefore, our being forgotten^
or overlooked, or neglected.

The existence and character of the Deity, is^
in every view, the most interesting of all human
speculations. In none, however, is it more so,,

CONCLUSION.

553

than as it facilitates the belief of the funda-
mental articles of Revelation. It is a step to
have it proved^ that there must be something in
the world more than what we see. It is a
further step to know that, amongst the invisible
things of nature, there must be an intelligent
mind concerned in its production, order and
support. These points being assured to us by
Natural Theology, we may well leave to Reve-
lation the disclosure of many particulars, which
our researches cannot reach, respecting either
the nature of this Being as the original cause of
all things, or His character and designs as a
moral Governor ; and not only so, but the more
full confirmation of other particulars, of which,
though they do not lie altogether beyond our
reasonings and our probabilities, the certainty
is by no means equal to the importance. The
true theist will be the first to listen to any
credible communication of Divine knowledge.
Nothing which he has learned from Natural
Theology will diminsh his desire of further
instruction or his disposition to receive it with
humility and thankfulness. He wishes for
light : he rejoices in light. His inward vene-
ration of this great Being will incline him to
attend, with the utmost seriousness, not only to
all that can be discovered concerning Him by

554

NATUllAL THEOLOGY.

researches into nature, but to all that is taught
by a revelation, which gives reasonable proof of
haAing proceeded from Him.

But, above every other article of revealed
religion, does the anterior belief of a Deity bear
with the strongest force upon that grand point,
which gives indeed interest and importance to
all the rest, — the resurrection of the human
dead. The thing might appear hopeless, did
we not see a power at work adequate to the
effect, a power under the guidance of an intelli-
gent will, and a power penetrating the inmost
recesses of all substance. I am far from justi-
fying the opinion of those, who thought it a
thing incredible, that God should raise the
dead but I admit that it is first necessary to
be persuaded that there is a God so do so.
This being throughly settled in our minds,
there seems to be nothing in this process (con-
cealed as we confess it to be) which need to
shock our belief. Thev who have taken up the
opinion, that the acts of the human mind
depend upon organizatioiiy that the mind itself
indeed consists in organization, are supposed to
find a great difficulty than others do, in ad-
mitting a transition by death to a new state of
sentient existence, because the old organization
is apparently dissolved. But I do not see that

CONCLUSION.

555

any impracticability need be apprehended even
by these ; or that the change, even upon their
hypothesis, is far removed from the analogy of
some other operations, which we knew with
certainty that the Deity is carrying on. In the
ordinary derivation of plants and animals from
one another, a particle, in many cases, minuter
than all assignable, all conceivable dimension;
an aura, an effluvium, an infinitesimal ; deter-
mines the organization of a future body : does
no less than fix, whether that which is about to
be produced shall be a vegetable, a merely sen-
tient, or a rational being ; an oak, a frog, or a
philosopher ; makes all these differences ; gives
to the future body its qualities, and nature, and
species. And this particle, from which springs,
and by which is determined, a whole future
nature, itself proceeds from, and owes its con-
stitution to, a prior body: nevertheless, which
is seen in plants most decisively, the incepted or-
ganization, though formed within, and through,
and by a preceding organization, is not cor-
rupted by its corruption, or destroyed by its
dissolution : but, on the contrary, is sometimes
extricated and developed by those very causes ;
survives and comes into action, when the pur-
pose for which it was prepared requires its use.
Now an economy which nature has adopted.

556

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

when the purpose was to transfer an organiza-
tion from one individual to another^ may have
something analogous to it^ when the purpose is
to transmit an organization from one state of
being to another state : and they who found
thought in organization, may see something in
this analogy applicable to their difficulties ; for,
whatever can transmit a similarity of organiza-
tion will answer their purpose, because, accord-
ing even to their own theory, it may be thu
vehicle of consciousness, and because conscious-
ness carries identity and individuality along
with it through all changes of form or of visible
qualities. In the most general case, that, as
we have said, of the derivation of plants and
animals from one another, the latent organiza-
tion is either itself similar to the old organiza-
tion, or has the power of communicating to
new matter the old organic form. But it is
not restricted to this rule. There are other
cases, especially in the progress of insect life,
in which the dormant organization does not
much resemble that which encloses it, and still
less suits with the situation in which the
enclosing body is placed, but suits with a dif-
ferent situation to which it is destined. In the
larva of the libellula, which lives constantly,
and has still long to live, under water, are

CONCLUSION.

557

descried the wings of a fly, which two years
afterwards is to mount into the air. Is there
nothing in this analogy ? It serves at least to
show that, even in the observable course of
nature, organizations are formed one beneath
another; and, amongst a thousand other in-
stances, it shows completely that the Deity can
mould and fashion the parts of material nature,
so as to fulfil any purpose whatever which He
is pleased to appoint.

They who refer the operations of mind to a
substance totally and essentially different from
matter (as most certainly these operations,
though affected by material causes, hold very
little affinity to any properties of matter with
which we are acquainted), adopt perhaps a
juster reasoning and a better philosophy ; and
by these the considerations above suggested are
not wanted, at least in the same degree. But
to such as find, which some persons do find, an
insuperable difficulty in shaking off an adherence
to those analogies, which the corporeal world is
continually suggesting to their thoughts; to
such, I say, every consideration will be a relief,
which manifests the extent of that intelligent
power which is acting in nature, the fruitful-
ness of its resources, the variety, and aptness,
and success of its means ; most especially every

558

NATURAL THEOLOGY.

consideration which tends to show that, in the
translation of a conscious existence, there is not,
even in their own way of regarding it, any-
thing greatly beyond, or totally unlike, what
takes place in such parts (probably small parts)
of the order of nature, as are accessible to our
observation.

Again ; if there be those who think that the
contractedness and debility of the human facul-
ties, in our present state, seem ill to accord with
the high destinies which the expectations of
religion point out to us, I would only ask them
whether any one, who saw a child two hours
after its birth, could suppose that it would ever
come to understand fluxions;^ who then shall
say, what farther amplification of intellectual
powers, what accession of knowledge, what
advance and improvement, the rational faculty,
be its constitution what it will, may not admit
of, when placed amidst new objects, and endowed
with a sensorium adapted, as it undoubtedly will
be, and as our present senses are, to the percep-
tion of those substances, and of those properties
of things, with which our concern may lie ?

Upon the whole; in everything which re-
spects this awful, but, as we trust, glorious

' See Search’s Lisrht of Nature, 'passim.

CONCLUSION.

559

change, we have a wise and powerful Being (the
Author, in nature, of infinitely various expedients
for infinitely various ends) upon whom to rely
for the choice and appointment of means, ade-
quate to the execution of any plan which His
goodness or His justice may have formed, for
the moral and accountable part of His terrestrial
creation. That great office rests with Hwi : be
it ours to hope and to prepare, under a firm
and settled persuasion that, living and dying,
we are His ; that life is passed in His constant
presence, that death resigns us to His merciful
disposal.

THE END.

Gilbert and Rivington, Ld., St. John’s House, Clerkenwell Road, London.