know, of the universe, what we can see and understand, went on to state
that the laws of Nature "were not objective realities, any more than
they were absolute truths."[176] Which decision, it seems to me, is as
if some modest and rational gnat, who had submitted to the humiliating
conviction that it could know no more of the world than might be
traversed by flight, or tasted by puncture, yet, in the course of an
experiment on a philosopher with its proboscis, hearing him speak of the
Institutes of Justinian, should observe, on its return to the society of
gnats, that the Institutes of Justinian were not objective realities,
any more than they were absolute truths. And, indeed, the careless use
of the word "Truth" itself, often misleads even the most accurate
thinkers. A law cannot be spoken of as a truth, either absolute or
concrete. It is a law of nature, that is to say, of my own particular
nature, that I fall asleep after dinner, and my confession of this fact
is a truth; but the bad habit is no more a truth than the statement of
it is a bad habit.

271. Nevertheless, in spite of the treachery of our conceptions and
language, and in just conclusion even from our narrow experience, the
conviction is fastened in our hearts that the habits or laws of Nature
are more constant than our own and sustained by a firmer Intelligence:
so that, without in the least claiming the faculty of recognition of
miracle, we may securely define its essence. The phenomena of the
universe with which we are acquainted are assumed to be, under general
conditions, constant, but to be maintained in that constancy by a
supreme personal Mind; and it is farther supposed that, under
particular conditions, this ruling Person interrupts the constancy of
these phenomena, in order to establish a particular relation with
inferior creatures.

272. It is, indeed, singular how ready the inferior creatures are to
imagine such a relation, without any very decisive evidence of its
establishment. The entire question of miracle is involved with that of
the special providences which are supposed, in some theories of
religion, sometimes to confound the enemies, and always to protect the
darlings of God: and in the minds of amiable persons, the natural and
very justifiable sense of their own importance to the well-being of the
world may often encourage the pleasant supposition that the Deity,
however improvident for others, will be provident for _them_. I
rec