A person in whom it was my duty as well as pleasure to be greatly interested, resolved to carry Mr Robert Owen's views into practical effect, and set on foot an establishment on his principles, at Orbiston, in Lanarkshire. The labour and anxiety which he underwent at the commencement of the undertaking, gradually impaired an excellent constitution; and, without perceiving the change, he, by way of setting an example of industry, took to digging with the spade, and actually wrought for fourteen days at this occupation, although previously unaccustomed to labour. This produced hæmoptysis, or spitting of blood. Being now unable for such severe exertion, he gave up his whole time to directing and instructing the people-about 250 in number,-and for two or three weeks spoke the whole day, the effusion of blood from his lungs continuing. Nature sank rapidly under this irrational treatment, and at last he came to Edinburgh for medical advice. When the structure and uses of his lungs were explained to him, he saw that his treatment of them had been equally injudicious as if he had thrown lime or dust into his eyes after inflammation. He was struck with the extent and consequences of his ignorance, and exclaimed, "How greatly should I have been benefited, if one month of the five years which I was forced to spend in a vain attempt to acquire the Latin language, had been dedi. cated to conveying to me information concerning the structure of my body, and the causes that preserve and impair its functions!" He had departed too widely from the organic laws to admit of an easy return: he was seized with inflammation of the lungs, and with great difficulty survived that attack; but it impaired his constitution so grievously, that he died after a lingering illness of eleven months. He acknowledged, however, even in his severest pain, that he suffered under a just law. The lungs, he perceived, were of prime importance to life, and a motive to their proper treatment was provided by instituting the painful consequences which followed from neglecting the conditions requisite to their health. Had he given them rest, and returned to obedience to the organic law at the first intimation of departure from it, the way to recovery was open; but in ignorance, he persevered for weeks in direct opposition to the law, till the melancholy result ensued.

This last case affords a striking illustration of a principle already noticed-namely, the independence of the different

natural laws, and the necessity of obeying all of them as a condition of safety and enjoyment. The person here mentioned was deeply engaged in a most benevolent and disinterested experiment for promoting the welfare of his fellow-creatures; and superficial observers would say that this was just an example of the inscrutable doings of Providence, which visited him with sickness, and ultimately with death, in the very midst of his most virtuous exertions. But the institutions of the Creator are wiser than the imaginations of such men. The first condition on which life and all its advantages depend, is obedience to the physical and organic laws. The benevolent Owenite, in his zeal to obey the moral law, neglected these, and suffered the consequences of his omission.

Some hold that it is a question purely of discretion or prudence to obey or disobey the physical and organic laws, and that to attain an important and moral object we are justified in setting them at defiance. But in my opinion, it is impossible to set them at defiance with success; in other words, to escape from the consequences which God has attached to the infringement of them. In cases in which we may be unavoidably ignorant of the natural laws, or be uncertain concerning the limit of our own ability to obey them, we may be morally justifiable in encountering the hazard of an infraction of them in the pursuit of a high and virtuous aim; but we must never lose sight of the fact, that, if we do miscalculate and infringe them, the merits of our motives will not save us from the appointed consequences.

If we know the laws, it is our duty in every case to obey them as far as we can. A young medical practitioner danced at a ball all night, exhausted his organic system by fatigue, and in this condition, without sleeping and without taking food, proceeded to pay an early visit to a patient labouring under typhus fever. The object was a moral one, and he obeyed the call of professional duty; but what was the consequence? Within twenty-four hours of his visit he was seized with the same fever, and in ten days he died. Who gained by his thus setting the organic laws at defiance at the call of duty? Obviously not the patient, for he never saw him again; not the medical practitioner, for he died; and not society, for it lost a valuable member.

Let me not, however, be misunderstood. I do not teach that, in order to avoid infringement of the organic laws,

every one should fly from a patient affected with a contagious disease. My doctrine is simply this-that in attending such a patient, every requisite of the organic laws which tends to diminish susceptibility of infection should be religiously complied with. The midnight dancing, by exhausting the body, prepared it to receive infection, and the want of food and sleep deprived it of a resisting power. If the young man had believed in the natural laws, he would either have avoided the ball, knowing his liability to be called on at all hours to visit patients labouring under dangerous diseases; or have gone home to bed, and requested an unexhausted and well fortified friend to visit the patient that morning in his place. The physical and organic laws, having been instituted by the same God who appointed the moral laws, are not likely to be inconsistent with them, nor so unimportant that we may justifiably treat them with disregard, according to our own short-sighted views either of expediency or duty. If it were possible to evade the consequences of one law by obeying another, the whole field of Man's existence would be involved in inextricable disorder.

Another case was communicated to me by an actual observer. A gentleman far advanced in years fell into a state of bodily weakness which rendered the constant presence of an attendant necessary. A daughter, in whom the organs of adhesiveness, benevolence, and veneration were largely developed, devoted herself to this service with ceaseless assiduity. She was his companion for month after month, and year after year-happy in cheering the last days of her respected parent, and knowing no pleasure equal to that of solacing and comforting him. For months in succession she never went abroad from the house; her duty became dearer to her the longer she discharged it, till at length her father became the sole object on earth of her feelings and her thoughts. The superficial observer would say that this conduct was admirable, and that she would receive from Heaven a rich reward for such becoming and virtuous devotion. But Providence rules on other principles. Her enjoyment of mental happiness and vigour depended on the condition of her brain, and her brain was subject to the organic laws. These laws demand, as an indispensable condition of health, exercise in the open air, and variety of employment, suited to maintain all the faculties in activity. She neglected the first in her constant attendance in her father's chamber; and she over

looked the second in establishing him as the exclusive object of her regard. The result was, that she fell into bad health, with weakness of the brain, extreme irritability and susceptibility of mind, excessive anxiety and hysteria, bordering on symptoms even of insanity. At last some judicious friends interfered, and by forcing her (for it was much against her inclination) to leave for a time the object of her solicitude, they rescued her from death or confirmed mental derangement. If this case had been allowed to proceed uninterruptedly to its natural termination, many pious persons would have marvelled at the mysterious dispensations of Providence in afflicting so dutiful a daughter; whereas, when the principle of the Divine government is understood, the result appears neither wonderful nor perplexing.

Those who maintain that we are justified in setting the physical and organic laws at defiance for an adequate moral object, should reflect on this case. Here every moral consideration dictated the line of conduct which the daughter pursued; but whom did she benefit by disregarding the organic laws of health? Not her father-because, by infringing them, she not only rendered herself incapable of soothing his declining years, but actually embittered them, by presenting to him the prospect of her own death or insanity as the result of her devotion to him. Not herselfbecause, by becoming, through her own acts, incapable of discharging her duty, she was mortified, disappointed, and distressed besides, she endured great suffering in her own person, as the consequence of her conduct. Did she honour God, in devoting herself immoderately to her moral duties? No, because He required her, while she did so, to obey also His organic laws, obedience to which was quite compatible with fulfilment of the moral law; and hence she yielded to Him only half obedience.

In the works of religious authors may be found many erroneous views of Divine dispensations, traceable to ignorance of the natural laws. The Rev. Ebenezer Erskine, speaking of the state of his wife's mind, says: "For a month or two the arrows of the Almighty were within her, the poison whereof did drink up her spirits; and the terrors of God did set themselves in array against her." He called in the assistance of some neighbouring clergymen to join in prayers on her behalf, and she was induced to pray with them; but "she still continued to charge herself with the unpardonable

sin, and to conclude that she was a castaway." Such feelings, occurring in a woman of blameless life, clearly indicated diseased action in the organs of cautiousness. "Before she fell into these depths," he continues, "she told me that the Lord gave her such a discovery of the glory of Christ as darkened the whole creation, and made all things appear as dung and dross in comparison of Him." These expressions indicate morbid excitement of the organs of wonder and veneration. She subsequently recovered her mental serenity; and her husband treats the whole phenomena as purely mental and religious. He, however, afterwards incidentally mentions that she was subject to bad health, and that "melancholy was a great ingredient in her disease." We now know that melancholy is a consequence of certain diseases either directly or sympathetically affecting the brain.

At the time when Mr Erskine lived and wrote, the physiology of the brain was unknown, and the occurrences which he describes had a real existence. He is therefore not deserving of censure for the errors into which he unavoidably fell; but now, when the facts which he describes, and analogous occurrences in our own day, can be traced to diseased action of the organs of the mind, we are authorised to view the providence of God in a different light.

It is further mentioned in the Life of Mr Erskine, that his wife bore several children to him while she was in precarious health, and that the situation "of the manse or parsonagehouse was unwholesome." We are told also, that in the year 1713 three of his children died; that one died in 1720; and that in 1723 a fifth was on the brink of death, but recovered.* He treats of all these events as 66 66 severe trials" and sore afflictions," without having the least glimpse of their true causes, or their relation to the natural laws.

Another illustration may be added. Hannah More, in a letter to the Rev. John Newton, dated Cowslip Green, 23d July 1788, says: "When I am in the great world, I consider myself as in an enemy's country, and as beset with snares, and this puts me upon my guard. ... Fears and snares seem necessary to excite my circumspection; for it is certain that my mind has more languor, and my faith less energy here; where I have no temptations from without, and where I live in the full and constant perusal of the most

* Life and Diary of the Rev. Ebenezer Erskine (Edinburgh, 1831), pp. 266, 286, 290, 301, 320.