58. There remains yet that part of the argument which hints that consciousness is less permanent than matter, inasmuch as individual consciousness frequently departs from the universe for six or eight hours and then returns to it again. In one sense this is unquestionably true, while, however, there is a potential or latent consciousness or possibility of consciousness that remains behind. It will be seen in the sequel that this fact of latent consciousness will be used by us to strengthen our argument in favour of a future state.

59. We may conclude, as the result of this discussion, that the connection between mind and matter is a very intimate one, although we are in profound ignorance as to its exact nature.

The intimacy of this connection is a doctrine almost universally held by modern physiologists. Just as no single action of the body takes place without the waste of some muscular tissue, so, it is believed, no thought takes place without some waste of the brain. Nay, physiologists go even further, and assert that each specific thought denotes some specific waste of brain tissue, so that there is some mysterious and obscure connection between the nature of the thought and the nature of the waste which it occasions. In like manner memory is looked upon as dependent upon traces, left behind in the brain, of that state in which it was when the sensation remembered took place. Thus Professor Huxley in his Belfast address (1874) tells us: "It is not to be doubted that those motions which give rise to sensation leave on the brain changes of its substance which answer to what Haller called 'vestigia rerum,' and to what that great thinker David Hartley termed 'Vibratiuncules.' The sensation which has passed

away leaves behind molecules of the brain competent to its reproduction-sensigenous molecules,' so to speak-which constitute the physical foundation of memory."

60. It will be inferred from what we have said that one of the essential requisites of continued existence is the capability of retaining some sort of hold upon the past, and, inasmuch as we are unable to contemplate such a thing as a finite disembodied spirit, it is further evident that this hold implies an organ of some sort. This we conceive to be a perfectly general proposition. limit ourselves in making it to any particular arrangement of bodily form, or to any particular rank of finite organised intelligence. From the archangel to the brute we conceive that something analogous to an organ of memory must be possessed by each.

We do not

61. But if one general requisite of life be a connection with the past, another is the possibility of action in the present. A living being must have in his frame the capacity of varied movement. He must possess a bodily organisation in which there is the power of calling internal forces into play at irregular intervals dependent on his will. We cannot imagine life to be associated with a motionless mass or with a mass which moves in an invariable manner.

The living being need not always be in motion, but he must retain the capacity of moving. He need not always be thinking, but he must retain the capacity of thought.

To sum up--it thus appears that there are two general conditions of organised life. There must in the first place be an organ connecting the individual with the past, and in the next place there must be such a frame and such a universe that he has the power of varied action in the present. We particularly request our readers to keep well in mind

these two propositions, since it is upon these that our argument will ultimately be built.

62. We come now to a very important part of our inquiry. It will be necessary to discuss the Principle of Continuity, and desirable to begin by defining exactly what is meant by us when these words are used. Let us illustrate this by an example.

Let us take a particular problem, that of astronomy, for instance, and, beginning at the very commencement, let us suppose an early Egyptian or Chaldean astronomer to be observing the sun in the middle of summer. Day after day, for perhaps a week, he has noticed that this luminary rises over a certain place and sets over a certain other place, and he conceives that he has now obtained some definite information regarding the sun. His idea is, that the sun will always go on doing the same thing, and he therefore predicts to his fellows, who are less observant than himself, exactly where it will rise and where it will set. They join him in observing the luminary for a week or more, and the sagacity of our primeval astronomer is triumphantly vindicated: the sun is found doing as nearly as possible that which had been predicted of it.

63. These men have now got hold of the idea that the sun will always rise and set at the same places, that in fact his daily journey is always the same, and that he performs it in the same time. But in the course of six months they suspect they are mistaken. sagacity of our astronomer, grace for six months longer. turning his eyes towards the sun, what is his surprise

Discredit is thrown upon the and he broods over his disAt the end of this time, on

1 See Essay on this subject by the Honourable Sir W. R. Grove, in his book on The Correlation of Physical Forces.

and delight to find that luminary doing the very thing that he had all along predicted, returning once more to his old points of rising and setting,-places, we may presume, that could easily be remembered on account of some peculiarity of landscape. He is not yet prepared however for a higher generalisation, but again calls for his fellows, and while he suspects a certain amount of irregularity in the sun, yet succeeds in convincing them that his guess was after all not far from the truth. Once again he is reinstated in their good opinion.

64. However, six months after, precisely the same thing recurs once more; the rising and setting points are now considerably different from those predicted. Our astronomer again loses credit, and regains it only partially six months afterwards, when the points are once more right. But he has now learned a lesson. He perceives a method in all this, and ultimately rises, by means of the difficulty, to a higher generalisation. He sees that the rising and setting points of the sun come back to their original position in about 365 days; and he has thus learned, in a rude way, that the sun has two motions, one of which he accomplishes in 24 hours, or one day, while the other has a period of 365 days, or one year.

65. While these things are in progress, a portentous and wholly unexpected event takes place the sun for four minutes is totally extinguished. Our astronomer meditates much on this strange phenomenon, and is inclined to regard it as a triumph of the powers of Darkness, in personal conflict with those of Light. Nevertheless he does not neglect to keep a record of the precise day on which it took place.

66. Years pass away, and our astronomer has passed away with them he and all his generation; but a regular re

cord is now kept of celestial occurrences, and especially of eclipses. At length it comes to be perceived that there is a periodicity even in such untoward phenomena, and an attempt is ultimately made, by means of this knowledge, to predict when the next eclipse will take place. It is perfectly successful, and this event loses from thenceforth much of its portentous significance.

67. Centuries move on, and the apparent motions of the heavenly bodies have now been gradually reduced to system. The stars in particular are found to move, just as if they were attached to the roof of a great hollow vault which moves round the earth once in twenty-four hours. But even amongst them there are five exceptions—namely, Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn-which perform a sort of wandering or zigzag motion in the midst of their stationary brethren, and have in consequence received the name of planets. All, however, are supposed to move round the earth, which forms the centre of the universe.

68. In process of time, this superiority of the earth over the heavenly bodies comes to be questioned. There is a rising tendency to regard our earth as a somewhat insignificant member of a great system, rather than as something apart by itself. These tendencies are, however, strongly opposed by the authorities of a large section of the Christian Church, on the ground that the language employed in the Jewish Scriptures is against such a method of regarding the universe. Nevertheless the Copernican system ultimately prevails, and the planets and the earth are associated together as stars which travel round the sun; while the diurnal motion of the heavenly bodies is attributed to a motion of the earth round its axis. And we cannot help thinking that philosophers of the present day are too