The inductive sciences have within themselves the inherent principles of perpetuity and of progress. Not only that, but they are constantly providing external defences against assaults by physical force. No hordes of barbarians can now swoop down upon a superior civilization, and conquer its people by means of mere muscular superiority; for the inductive sciences have provided appliances which confer upon intelligence and skill a vast superiority over combined muscular and numerical strength, though the latter may be inspired by the most desperate physical courage. Science, and not muscle, is now the prime factor in the struggle of nations for supremacy; for the victories of war, as of peace, are organized in the laboratories of the

inductive sciences.

The obvious inference is that, other things being equal, so long as the world is under the dominion of the inductive sciences, no civilized people can ever again be conquered except by the agents of a higher civilization.

It is unnecessary to dwell further upon the obvious importance of the discovery which Bacon made; and my only excuse for reciting the a b c of the processes of induction is that it is always proper, and frequently important, in the discussion of any question, to recur to fundamental principles. Besides, whilst there is no law of nature more simple, or more easily comprehended, than the fundamental law of human reason, yet there is none that is more habitually and persistently disregarded and set at defiance. It is safe to say that nine-tenths of all that mankind believes, or thinks it believes, is destitute of any solid basis of fact. It is, perhaps, not so much the fault as the misfortune of humanity that this is true. We must not forget that, much as mankind has achieved in the way of wresting from Nature the secret of her laws, the intellectual world is yet in its infancy. It is less than three centuries since man began to comprehend the first principles pertaining to the power

which enables him to make an intelligent search for truth. Gigantic strides have been made within that time, it is true; but they have been in one direction only. The material universe has been explored, the dynamic forces of Nature have been enslaved, and the physical condition of man has been ameliorated.

But many problems still remain unsolved which are of far greater importance to mankind than any that have yet yielded to the processes of induction; and they are problems upon which none of the physical sciences throw the faintest glimmer of light.

Natural theology stands precisely where it did when Thales philosophized and Simonides sang; and the arguments are identical with those which Socrates employed in his confutation of the atheism of Aristodemus. Not one of the physical sciences in which we excel the Idumeans has advanced us one step in the solution of the great problem propounded by Job,—“If a man die, shall he live again?"

Indeed, the discoveries of modern science seem to have weakened, rather than strengthened, the old arguments employed to prove the existence of Deity or the doctrine of immortality. Modern physical science has at least weakened the hold which those beliefs had upon humanity; for the scientific mind is prone to hold that what is not proved by induction is, to a certain extent, disproved. And no scientist has ever attempted to demonstrate either of those propositions by induction. Bacon himself does not seem to have regarded theology, natural or revealed, as being susceptible of being brought within the domain of science. On the contrary, he appears to have regarded the essential doctrines of religion as sufficiently well established by revelation. He warns his readers, however, against 66 an unwholesome mixture of things human and divine," and advises them to "render to faith the things that are faith's."

It does not seem probable that Bacon, whose mind was cast in a severely logical mould, could have overlooked the wide discrepancy between the methods of reasoning which he taught, and those which were at that time necessarily employed in sustaining the fundamental doctrines of religion. Nor does it seem possible that he was insensible to the difficulties which must environ the Church when it should be called upon to defend its faith against the assaults of scepticism, armed with the weapons which he created. Be that as it may, it was not until many years after Bacon wrote that the secondary effects of his philosophy became manifest. As soon, however, as the students of material science became imbued with his wisdom, and began to apply the severe rules of his logic to the investigation of the problems of the physical universe, they began to inquire why the same rules were not applicable to things spiritual; and as soon as it was prudent to do so, they began to demand that the theologian should give as good reasons for the faith that was in him as were required of the scientist for the elucidation of the simplest propositions in natural philosophy. It is needless to remark that this demand has not yet been met with an adequate reply, although the Church has been engaged, with a zeal entirely disproportioned to its success, in defending its strongholds.

It was not, however, until after the beginning of the pres ent century that the real battle between science and religion took a definite form, or that science assumed a seriously threatening aspect towards the fundamental doctrines of religion. It was not until within the memory of men now living that scientists, worthy of the name, became the aggressive opponents of the doctrine of a future life, or attempted to disprove the existence of Deity. The great conflict between religion and science, previous to that time, which may be said to have been begun in the destruction of the Alexandrian Library and ended with the Inquisition, was

waged on entirely different grounds. Thus, when Hypatia was stripped naked in the streets of Alexandria by Cyril's mob of monks, dragged into a church, and there killed by the club of Peter the Reader, it was for the offence of teaching mathematics and the philosophy of Plato and Aristotle. The subsequent conflicts were principally respecting such questions as the nature of the Godhead, the nature of the soul, the nature of the world, the age of the earth, the criterion of truth, and the government of the universe. For many hundreds of years these questions were discussed, the principal arguments employed against science being feebly typified by those of Cyril against Hypatia. Even as late as the eighteenth century the religious polemics of the day were not directed against the fundamental truths of natural religion, but against the system of theology which is based upon the interpretation which the priesthood has given to revelation. The works of Voltaire and of Paine may be cited as the best known examples. Each of these writers has been stigmatized as an atheist: but Voltaire believed in God, and steadily upheld the truths of natural religion; whilst Paine, were he living to-day, would find congenial employment in the Unitarian pulpit. The effect of their polemics was great in their day and generation, but it was not lasting. They shook the foundations of creed and dogma, but not of religion. They were not atheists themselves, yet it cannot be denied that their writings have been instrumental in converting many to atheism who have not been able to distinguish between dogma and religion. This effect, however, in the very nature of things, could not be permanent; for no argument not based upon scientific induction can long prevail against the instinct of worship which is inherent in the human mind, or that hope of a life beyond the grave which springs eternal in the human breast.

The science of the nineteenth century, however, has developed an entirely new aspect of the question. The

conflict between religion and science still goes on; but the questions are different and the weapons are not the same. It is no longer a question of geography, or of astronomy, or of the shape of the earth, or of its relative magnitude and importance as compared with the other planets in the solar system. All these questions have been settled, and it will not be denied that in each of these conflicts the palm of victory has been awarded to science.

The doctrine of evolution has now given rise to another controversy (it can no longer be called a conflict) between science and religion, or, rather, between scientists and a portion of the Christian Church. On its face it is a con

troversy relating to the creation and government of the world, whether it was by a special creative act of God, followed by incessant divine intercession, or by the operation of primordial and immutable law. The Church, however, is by no means united in its opposition to the doctrine of evolution. On the contrary, many of its most progressive and enlightened adherents accept the doctrine without qualification, whilst others attempt to harmonize it with the Mosaic account of creation. There can be little doubt of the ultimate triumph of science in this, as in other controversies; and there can be as little doubt that, when the day of its triumph comes, it will be found that true religion has lost nothing. Religion has never lost anything as a result of the triumphs of science, but only as a result of misdirected zeal in opposing science. Religion, therefore, has nothing to fear from the doctrine of evolution, or from any other science, if religion is truth; for no truth is inconsistent with any other truth.

The real danger consists, not in the conflict of religion with science, but in the failure of the Church to meet the demands of science. The latter reaches its conclusions from the observation of facts, and holds that nothing is worthy of belief that is not sustained by observable phe