we would request the reader's attention. If a theological writer, unwilling to rest the doctrine of theism on a mere assumption, should deem it necessary, as a preliminary step, adopting in effect the dogma in question, to prove the immateriality of the soul, and if he should, like our author, fail in his attempt, it is evident, that he would leave the atheist in possession of a triumph, if not of a convert to his hypothesis. We ask then, and we ask with emphasis-Is our belief in the most solemn and most momentous of all religious truths, the existence of God, to rest on a mere assumption? Or, is it to depend on the contingency of an author's ability to prove the immateriality of the human mind? We should, indeed, have reason to tremble for our faith, if it were to rest on so narrow and precarious a foundation. But we maintain, as we are prepared to prove, in reference to the first question, that no such assumption is necessary to a rational belief in a Supreme Being. And, in respect to the second question, we apprehend, that Lord Brougham himself furnishes a sufficient example of the danger of trusting to the competency of every writer, who may fancy himself capable of demonstrating the truth of immaterialism. If he has read several eminent authors on the opposite side, it is evident he has read them to little purpose, for he has still to learn the merits of the question. It is true, that in this and the subsequent section, we find some valid reasoning on the subject; but it is unfortunately mixed up with so much matter of a contrary character, and so much of bold and gratuitous assertion, that, while the metaphysician is offended, the common reader is perplexed. Thus-as an argument for the distinct existence of mind-he observes, that The consciousness of existence, the perpetual sense that we are thinking, and that we are performing the operation quite independently on all material objects, prove to us the existence of a being different from our bodies, with a degree of evidence higher than any we can have for the existence of the bodies themselves.'-p. 56. Does Lord Brougham intend to affirm that we are perpetually conscious that we think? If this be his meaning, we deny the position. We have no such consciousness. In profound sleep, we are unconscious of thought. It has been believed, we are aware, by some metaphysicians, that the mind is continually active, though the memory fails to record, or to recal its operations. This opinion we deem not improbable, though it is still too questionable to constitute the ground of any conclusive argument; but the intelligent reader will perceive the difference between this opinion and the dogma of Lord Brougham. Again Again-We would ask how he has learned that the operations of the mind are independent on the body; for this is a superlatively important question. Has he proved, or can he prove, that we can think, reason, and will, without a brain? We are not ignorant of certain physiological facts, which suffice to show, that part of the brain may be destroyed, and yet the power of thinking remain? But it should be remembered that the organ is double, and that not a single instance can be produced of a person born without a brain capable of sensation, or of one deprived of this organ, yet able to reflect, reason, and will. The author argues, That many of the perceptions which we derive through the senses are deceitful, and seem to indicate that which has no reality.' (p. 56.) He is right in saying seem to indicate;' for, if he had not qualified the observation, we should have told him that our senses do not deceive us; but that from their reports we draw false conclusions. We should also have asked him how these false conclusions are corrected, but by the very evidence of those senses whose testimony is by ignorance represented to be fallacious? Lord Brougham says, that 'to admit the existence of a sentient being, and at the same time deny that existence, is a contradiction.' Palpable enough, we acknowledge. But will his lordship tell us who are they who have directly, or indirectly, maintained this contradiction? The materialist disowns it, and contends, that the question is, whether the sentient being, called I, is one homogeneous substance, endowed with powers of perception, memory, and reason, or two distinct and dissimilar substances. This is the matter in dispute. Let not, however, our readers misunderstand us. Let them not suppose for a moment that we desire to advocate the doctrine of materialism. With all the sincerity, all the fervour, of which the human mind is capable, we disavow the doctrine as false. But, while we thus energetically disclaim the hypothesis, we cannot silently listen to objections which betray a superficial knowledge of the question, and scarcely possess even the semblance of validity. Before we proceed to Section IV., we would offer one preliminary remark. The arguments, which have been adduced by theologians in favour of Deity, have been generally considered to be of two kinds, viz., arguments à priori, and arguments à posteriori. In the strictly logical sense of these terms, neither of these modes of reasoning is applicable to the question. For to reason à priori is to argue from the cause to the effect: this evidently is to assume the cause, the existence of which is the very point which is here to be proved. To reason à posteriori is to argue from the nature of the effect to that of the cause. But this argu ment, ment, if applied to the question, would assume the world to be an effect, a point equally necessary to be proved before the argument can be legitimately applied. Though this is the strict and logical meaning of the terms, they are often employed, the former to denote speculative or abstract reasoning-the latter, that which is founded on facts or experience. We had occasion to remark, in our review of Dr. Crombie's Natural Theology, that its author had rendered important service to the cause of truth by discarding the argument à priori, as not only perplexing but inconclusive, and by placing the evidence of Deity on its only solid basis, the phenomena of nature. Lord Brougham here adopts the same view of the argument, and contends, that the existence of the Divine Being cannot be proved to be a necessary truth. He then endeavours to show that Dr. Clarke's argument, as far as it is drawn from our notions of infinite space, is an argument not à priori, but à posteriori, the notion of space being inseparable from our idea of matter; and that it is, therefore, an imperfect process of induction. This view of Clarke's argument is, in our judgment, entirely erroneous. His reasoning is this: Space and duration are evidently necessary; and yet themselves are not substances, but properties or modes. But if these modes are necessary, it follows that a substratum must, if possible, be more necessary, and this substratum must be a necessary and self-existent being. He afterwards retracts the term substratum as improper, but still adheres to his argument. Now, we might call upon his lordship to show, where is there here a process of induction, perfect or imperfect; where is the ultimate and general fact; where are the individual facts on which the generalization is established? We cannot allow that the argument involves any process of induction, complete, or incomplete. If space and time be, as Lord Brougham admits, and as we believe, neither substances nor modes, Clarke's argument is purely abstract, resting on the necessary and immutable relations of our ideas. If space and time be qualities, as Clarke assumes, then it is not by induction, but by the metaphysical relation between quality and substance, that Clarke arrives at his conclusion. It is of no avail to say, that it is by matter and sense that we acquire our notion of space. It is by the same means that we gain our notions of number and quantity; but no rational man will therefore deny that pure mathesis is an abstract science. We must maintain, then, in opposition to Lord Brougham, that, without a palpable perversion of terms, Clarke's argument is not by induction. But this, we apprehend, is not the only error with which his lordship is here chargeable. He errs also in stating that Clarke's reasoning reasoning from duration and space constitutes his fundamental argument; and we cannot but express our surprise that he has thus misrepresented it. The argument, on which that able metaphysician lays the greatest stress, which he urges at the greatest length, and which he varies into two different forms, partly, however, distinct in substance, rests entirely on abstract principles. It is intended to prove that there must be from eternity an independent being. The reason is, because an infinite series of causes and effects, or of beings dependent, involves a contradiction and an impossibility. This is unquestionably Clarke's fundamental argument. We have already adverted to the inutility, not to say impropriety, of ranking physical truths among those which belong to theological science. In treating the argument à priori, his lordship commits an error somewhat similar, but certainly less excusable. He observes, We never, before all experience, could pronounce it mathematically impossible that such a Being (namely, Deity) should exist, and should have created the universe.' The science of mathematics being confined to the relations of number and quantity, it is quite absurd to apply the phrase mathematically impossible' to a matter of fact. Certain relations of number and quantity may be mathematically, that is, by mathematical evidence, proved possible, or impossible; or Clarke might believe, that the existence of Deity is as certain, by metaphysical evidence, as any proposition in Euclid is by mathematical evidence; but to speak of the existence of the Maker of the Universe as mathematically possible or impossible, is of all incongruities the most extravagant and ridiculous. A few lines afterwards, he repeats the same error:- Nothing,' he observes, can more clearly show the absurdity of those arguments by which it is attempted to demonstrate the truths of this science as mathematical, or necessary, or cognisable, à priori.' This observation would be pertinent enough if it were justified by fact; but no theologian, as far as we know, ever attempted the monstrous absurdity of proving the existence of a Creator as a mathematical truth. The section concludes with some observations on creation. Here again we have the misfortune to differ from our author. He maintains, that it is as easy to conceive how matter was created, as how it could be fashioned by the will of the Deity into its present forms. This assertion is so inconsistent with all our known conceptions, and so directly opposed to acknowledged facts in the records of philosophy, that we cannot sufficiently express our surprise at the advancement of a dogma so paradoxical and false. Lord Brougham himself admits, that the great stumbling 2D2 block block to the philosophers of antiquity was creation. Hence they supposed matter to be eternal, and that the Deity moulded it into its present forms. The construction of the universe from a chaotic aggregate of elementary atoms, constituted, in their apprehension, no difficulty beyond Divine power to accomplish; but creation appeared to them to be an absolute impossibility. Nor should this, perhaps, be a matter of astonishment. We are habitually acquainted with the construction of machines from given materials; but as we are incapable of giving existence to a single atom of matter, so we have no conception of the creation of any material form. Is creation therefore impossible? Certainly not. We reclaim against the dogma, as at once arrogant and irrational; and if our limits permitted, are prepared to show, that there is no contradiction or absurdity in the belief, that Omnipotent Power can give existence to matter. But to tell us that it is not more difficult to comprehend construction without materials, than with materials, is to outrage the principles of common sense. In section V. he proceeds to the second branch of natural theology, which relates to the probable designs of the Deity in respect to the future destiny of man. He introduces his observations with remarking, that the immateriality of the soul is the foundation of all the doctrines relating to a future state. Important as we admit and feel this doctrine to be, we deny that it is either the sole, or the chief ground on which the Theist has reason to hope for another state of being. On the goodness, justice, and wisdom of the Deity he places his main reliance. If the soul,' observes the author, consists of material parts, its destruction seems to follow, as a necessary consequence of the dissolution of the body.' The inference being here qualified, we suffer it to pass without objection. To affirm its destruction as necessary, or absolutely certain, would be as rash and unphilosophical, as it would be derogatory to the infinite perfections of Deity. As He can give life and take it away, so He is likewise capable of restoring it under whatever form He may be pleased to renew its existence. And now, while we explicitly repeat our disavowal of all belief in the doctrine of materialism, we feel ourselves bound to repeat also our conviction, that the author must have read but little on this subject, when he affirms, that the mind is not affected by the decay of our corporeal frame, and that its action is wholly independent on the body. When he asserts the former position, we presume he means decay through age; for those declines which take place by marasmus, phthisis, or atrophy, which, to use the language of the materialist, impair not the organ of thought, do not affect the question. It would argue, we acknowledge, extreme ignorance, or unpardonable perversity, to deny that instances occur, |