moon be ten times as large as she is? Why should not the pupil of a man's eye be ten times as large as it is, so as to receive more of the light which does arrive? We do not conceive, that our inability to answer the latter question, prevents our knowing that the eye was made for seeing; nor does our inability to answer the former, disturb our persuasion, that the moon was made to give light upon the earth.”*

To show that the light derived from the moon exhibits no proof of an Intelligent Cause, Laplace undertakes to suggest a better arrangement himself, and points out a position of that luminary, which would always cause her to appear full to the inhabitants of the earth. Mr Whewell answers this suggestion by proving, that such a position could only be found by placing the moon four times farther from us than she is at present, which would diminish her apparent size no less than sixteen times, and, of course, proportionally diminish her light. Whether or not this arrangement would be preferable to the present, may well be doubted; but even if its superiority could be demonstrated, it seems doubtful if the influence of the disturbing forces, which, on such a supposition, would certainly act more powerfully, would suffer the arrangement to be stable.

But, even allowing the full force to Laplace's objection, which the validity of his suggestion could with any show of reason afford, it amounts, after all, just to this, that the provision thus made for the comfort and happiness of living creatures, and especially of man, is mingled with imperfection and privation. Is not this, however, the precise character which is inscribed on all sublunary things? and does not the analogy which we here discover, serve to confirm the very view of the Divine perfections, as exhibited in his works, with reference to the moral government of the human race, which I have been endeavouring all along to establish? This is a chequered scene of brightness and gloom, of sunshine and shade, * Whewell's Bridgewater Treatise, p. 174.

of enjoyment and depression; and such is the discipline best suited to our fallen condition.

In turning from our own satellite to those of the other planets, a similar train of reasoning may be applied. These nightly luminaries, attached to Jupiter, Saturn, and Uranus, certainly compensate, in some degree, by their numbers, for the encreased deficiency of light, arising from the remoteness of their primaries from the sun. This view will not be successfully redargued by the fact already stated, that Mars, and the four small planets, still more distant than he from the source of light, are destitute of these useful appendages. The answer to such an objection just is, that, according to the analogy of creation, we may expect exceptions for which we may be altogether incapable of assigning an adequate cause; but the ignorance inherent in our limited views, can never invalidate the evidence of facts and principles clearly established.

FOURTH WEEK-SUNDAY.

DIVINE AND HUMAN KNOWLEDGE COMPARED.

WHEN the philosopher compares his knowledge of external nature with that of his fellow-men not conversant with such high studies, there is danger of his becoming vain of his attainments. He has unbarred the gate of science, and penetrated the mysteries of creation. He follows the course of the sun, and measures the stars, and unravels the mystic changes of the planets, and discovers new worlds in distant space, and puts his finger on the law which sustains, impels, and guides the immense machine of the universe. This sounds proudly; and if we only consider the limited faculties of man, his attainments are undoubtedly worthy of admiration; but when viewed in the light of the Divine perfections, they dwindle and disappear. With reference to these, the capacity of man to acquire knowledge is extremely limited. As he advances but a few steps beyond the ordinary train of his ideas, he is lost in the immensity of his own conceptions. He has not faculties to grasp the wonders even with which he is more immediately surrounded, and how much less to form any adequate idea of the nature and character of the Self-existent. Let any man reflect, for an instant, on the divine attributes of Eternity, Infinity, Unchangeableness; and he will at once perceive how impossible it is to do this. Who can do this without being awed, confounded, and bewildered? "Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is high, I cannot attain unto it!"

But even supposing we were capable of comprehending all mysteries, and all knowledge, how extremely limited are our means of acquiring them. We are placed in a remote corner of creation. What a mere atom is the world which we inhabit, compared with the universe!

Even if we knew every thing under the sun,-nay, if all the powers of nature within our planetary system, with all the transactions of the whole animated creation which it contains, lay naked and open before us, how ignorant, even then, would we be! Worlds on worlds, and systems on systems, would still be entirely unknown to us.

But how little do we know even of the earth which we inhabit! We are confined to a little spot of this little world. How small are the British islands compared to the broad expanse of sea and land! And yet, of this diminitive region, how insignificant is the space with which we are acquainted! And even of the objects within our view, how ignorant are we! Nay, of the things with which we are most familiar, what do we know! We observe their outward appearance, we can tell what they are to the eye, to the ear, and to the touch; but what they are in their own nature, the greatest philosopher cannot so much as conjecture. Indeed, the very production of organized existences, is an impenetrable mystery. Who can define the secret power by which a single blossom of the spring germinates and grows, opening its beauties to the sun, and shedding its perfumes on the balmy air?

Compared with this stinted portion of knowledge, how amazing is the knowledge of God! As He made all things, He must be intimately acquainted, not only with their properties, but with their very essence. His eye, at the same instant, surveys all the works of His immeasurable creation;-He observes, not only the complicated system of the universe, but the slightest motion of the most minute microscopic insect ;-not only the sublimest conceptions of angels, but the meanest propensity of the most worthless of His creatures. At this moment, He is listening to the praises breathed by grateful hearts in distant worlds, and reading every grovelling thought which passes through the polluted minds of the fallen race of Adam.

Another difference between Divine and human know

ledge, arises from the limited term of man's existence, and the limited extent of his memory. Threescore and ten years sum up the days of his earthly career. In that short period, how little can he learn! How much of that little does he lose by inattention, or by defect of memory and judgment! From books, indeed, he may acquire some knowledge of the past; and from Revelation, still more, not only of the past, but of the present and future. But of what we learn from the works of fallible men, if we were to deduct all that is false or doubtful, how little would remain! And even of the unerring oracles of God, how much is there that we cannot fully comprehend!

To this, also, what a contrast do we find in the knowledge of God! At one view, He surveys the past, the present, and the future. No inattention prevents Him from observing; no defect of memory or of judgment obscures His comprehension. In His remembrance, are stored not only the transactions of this world, but of all the worlds in the universe ;—not only the events of the six thousand years which have past since the earth was created, but of a duration without beginning. Nay, things to come, extending to a duration without end, are also before Him. An eternity past, and an eternity to come, are, at the same moment, in His eye; and with that eternal eye He surveys infinity. How amazing! How inconceivable!

But while we thus do homage to the perfections of the Eternal, let us not undervalue the studies by which these perfections are elucidated. Though, when compared with the Divine mind, the mind even of a Newton must sink into utter insignificance; yet, to feeble man, it is great, it is admirable,-to have removed the veil which lay on the face of nature,-to have pierced, with keen glance, to the suns of other systems, and to have known the law, so simple and so sublime, by which the beauty, order, and harmony of the universe, are sustained. By enlarging our views of nature, the philosopher enlarges