strive after renewed adjustments of thought in these more difficult fields of inquiry, even though our conclusions may in their precise form scarcely last out our own day. The blessings of each day must be made, if possible, sufficient unto it, and we shall hardly reach those of to-morrow unless we have appropriated those of the passing hour. Our landscape is before us with its sunshine and its shadow, and we should enter deeply into its lessons.

One cannot write well on Natural Theology and undertake his task mechanically. He cannot make each day a day's march, and so reach the journey's end. Every step is in a contested territory. It is contended for on the one side by instinctive fears and aversions, by narrow but close-knit arguments, and the whole army of prudential sentiments. It is held on the other side by hope and aspiration, by the insight of large thought, and by those emotions which spring up as retainers of the moral nature. Every step, therefore, must be taken with courage, and firmly held with a loyalty to all that is highest within us and brightest before us.

We have one help. We may pursue this path in the profoundest sympathy with the obscure and the clear convictions of many of the strong minds and strongest hearts that have preceded us. We may not be able to say why it is that men eminent in science, pure in life, governed even by philanthropy, have taken the attitude of distrust and denial, but we do know why a Zoroaster, a Socrates, a Plato, a Paul, have cherished a belief of the largest scope. It has been fed by the