e denizens of an insignificant speck, have alone been
found worthy of God's regard?

It was this reasoning that sustained the geocentric theory, and made the
earth the centre of the universe, the most noble of created things; the
sun, the moon, the stars, being only ministers for the service of man.

[Sidenote: The fallacy of objections to that theory.] But, like many
other objections urged in that memorable conflict, this was founded on a
misconception, or, rather, on imperfect knowledge. There may be an
infinity of worlds placed under the mechanical relations alluded to, but
there may not be one among them that can be the abode of life. The
physical conditions under which organization is possible are so numerous
and so strictly limited that the chances are millions to one against
their conjoint occurrence.

[Sidenote: Evidence furnished by Geology.] In a religious point of view,
we are greatly indebted to Geology for the light it has cast on this
objection. It has taught us that during inconceivable lapses of time our
earth itself contained no living thing. These were those pre-organic
ages to which reference was made in the last chapter. Then by slow
degrees, as a possibility for existence occurred, there gradually
emerged one type after another. It is but as yesterday that the life of
man could be maintained.

[Sidenote: The transitory nature of living forms.] Only in the presence
of special physical conditions can an animal exist. Even then it is
essentially ephemeral. The life of it, as a whole, depends on the death
of its integrant parts. In a waterfall, which maintains its place and
appearance unchanged for many years, the constituent portions that have
been precipitated headlong glide finally and for ever away. For the
transitory matter to exhibit a permanent form, it is necessary that
there should be a perpetual supply and also a perpetual removal. So long
as the jutting ledge over which the waters rush, and the broken gulf
below that receives them, remain unchanged, the cataract presents the
same appearance. But variations in them mould it into a new shape; its
colour changes with a clear or cloudy sky; the rainbow seen in its spray
disappears when the beams of the sun are withdrawn.

So in that collection of substance which constitutes an animal; whatever
may be its position, high or low, in the realm of life, there is a
perpetual introduction of new material and a perpetual departure of the
old. It is