and out of it, is dogmatism. And here I am in the hands of
the meeting--willing to end, but ready to go on. I have no right to
intrude upon you, unasked, the unformed notions which are floating
like clouds, or gathering to more solid consistency, in the modern
speculative scientific mind. But if you wish me to speak plainly,
honestly, and undisputatiously, I am willing to do so. On the present
occasion--

You are ordained to call, and I to come.

Well, your answer is given, and I obey your call.

Two or three years ago, in an ancient London College, I listened to a
discussion at the end of a lecture by a very remarkable man. Three or
four hundred clergymen were present at the lecture. The orator began
with the civilisation of Egypt in the time of 'Joseph; pointing out
the very perfect organisation of the kingdom, and the possession of
chariots, in one of which Joseph rode, as proving a long antecedent
period of civilisation. He then passed on to the mud of the Nile, its
rate of augmentation, its present thickness, and the remains of human
handiwork found therein: thence to the rocks which bound the Nile
valley, and which teem with organic remains. Thus in his own clear
way he caused the idea of the world's age to expand itself
indefinitely before the minds of his audience, and he contrasted this
with the age usually assigned to the world. During his discourse he
seemed to be swimming against a stream, he manifestly thought that he
was opposing a general conviction. He expected resistance in the
subsequent discussion; so did I. But it was all a mistake; there was
no adverse current, no opposing conviction, no resistance; merely here
and there a half-humorous, but unsuccessful attempt to entangle him in
his talk. The meeting agreed with all that had been said regarding
the antiquity of the earth and of its life. They had, indeed, known
it all long ago, and they rallied the lecturer for coming amongst them
with so stale a story. It was quite plain that this large body of
clergymen, who were, I should say, to be ranked amongst the finest
samples of their class, had entirely given up the ancient landmarks,
and transported the conception of life's origin to an indefinitely
distant past.

This leads us to the gist of our present enquiry, which is this: Does
life belong to what we call matter, or is it an independent principle
inserted into matter at some suitable epoch--say when the physical
conditions b