GENERAL CONDITIONS OF MATTER.

Its varied Characters, and constant change of external Form—The Grain of Dust, its Properties and Powers—Combinations in inorganic Masses and in organized Creations—Our knowledge of Matter—Theory of Ultimate Atoms—The Physical Forces acting on the Composition of Masses—The certainty of the exercise of subtile principles, which are beyond the reach of experimental Science.

The Physical Earth presents to us, in every form of organic and inorganic matter, an infinite variety of phenomena. If we select specimens of rocks, either crystalline or stratified,—of metals in any of their various combinations with oxygen, sulphur, and other bodies,—of gems glistening with light and glowing with colour,—if we examine the varied forms and hues of the vegetable world, or the more mysterious animal creations, we must inevitably come to the conclusion, long since proclaimed, and admit that dust they are, and to dust must they return. Whatever permanency may be given to matter, it is certain that its form is ever in a state of change. The surface of the “Eternal Hills” is worn away by the soft rains which fall to fertilize, and from their wrecks, borne by the waters to the ocean, new continents are forming. The mutations of the old earth may be read upon her rocks and mountains, and these records of former changes tell us the infallible truth, that as the present passes into the future, so will the form of Earth undergo an important alteration. The same forces which lifted the Andes and the Himalayas are still at work, and from the particles of matter carried from the present lands by the rivers into the sea, where they subside in stratified masses, there will, in the great future, be raised new worlds, upon which the work of life will go forward, and over which will be spread a vast Intelligence.

If we regard the conditions of the beautiful and varied organic covering of the Earth, the certainty, the constancy, of change is ever before us. Vegetable life passes into the animal form, and both perish to feed the future plant. Man, moving to-day the monarch of a mighty people, in a few years passes back to his primitive clod, and that combination of elementary atoms, which is dignified with the circle of sovereignty and the robe of purple, after a period may be sought for in the herbage of the fields, or in the humble flowers of the valley.

We have, then, this certain truth,—all things visible around us are but aggregations of atoms. From particles of dust, which under the microscope could scarcely be distinguished one from the other, are all the varied forms of nature created. This grain of dust, this particle of sand, has strange properties and powers. Science has discovered some truths, but still more are hidden within this irregular molecule of matter which we now survey, than have yet been shadowed in the dreams of our philosophy. How strangely it obeys the impulses of heat—mysterious are the influences of light upon it—electricity wonderfully excites it—and still more curious is the manner in which it obeys the magic of chemical force. These are phenomena which we have seen; we know them, and we can reproduce them at our pleasure. We have advanced a little way into the secrets of nature, and from the spot we have gained, we look forward with a vision somewhat brightened by our task; but we discover so much to be yet unknown, that we learn another truth,—our vast ignorance of many things relating to this grain of dust.

It gathers around it other particles; they cling together, and each acting upon every other one, and all of them arranging themselves around the little centre according to some law, a beautiful crystal results, the geometric perfection of its form being a source of admiration.

It exerts some other powers, and atom cohering to atom, obeying the influences of many external radiant forces, undergoes inexplicable changes, and the same dust which we find forming the diamond, aggregates into the lordly tree,—blends to produce the graceful, scented, and richly painted flower,—and combines to yield the luxury of fruit.

It quickens with yet undiscovered energies; it moves with life: dust is stirred by the mysterious excitement of vital force; and blood and bone, nerve and muscle, are the results. Forces, which we cannot by the utmost refinements of our philosophy detect, direct the whole, and from the same dust which formed the rock and grew in the tree, is produced a living and a breathing thing, capable of receiving a Divine illumination, of bearing in its new state the gladness and the glory of a Soul.

These considerations lead us to reflect on the amount of our knowledge. We are led to ask ourselves, what do we know? We know that the world with all its variety is composed of certain material atoms, which, although presented to us in a great variety of forms, do not in all probability differ very essentially from each other.

We know that those atoms obey certain conditions which appear to be dependent upon the influences of motion, gravitation, heat, light, electricity, and chemical force. These powers are only known to us by their effects; we only detect their action by their operations upon matter; and although we regard the several phenomena which we have discovered, as the manifestations of different principles, it is possible they may be but modifications of some one universal power, of which these are but a few of its modes of action.

In examining, therefore, the truths which science has revealed to us, it is advantageous, for the purpose of fixing the mind to the subject, that we assume certain conditions as true. These may be stated in a few sentences, and then, without wasting a thought upon those metaphysical subtleties which have from time to time perplexed science, and served to impede the progress of truth, we shall proceed to examine our knowledge of the phenomena which constantly occur around us.

Every form, whether inorganic or organic, which we can discover within the limits of human search, is composed of atoms, which are capable of assuming, under the influence of certain physical forces, conditions essential to the physical state of that body of which they constitute a part.[1] The known forces, active in producing these conditions, are modes of motion; gravitation and aggregation, heat, light; and associated with these, actinism or chemical radiation; electricity, under all its conditions, whether static or dynamic; and chemical affinity, regarded as the result of a separate elementary principle.

These forces must be considered as powers capable of acting in perfect independence of each other. They are possibly modifications of one principle; but this view being an hypothesis, which, as yet, is only supported by loose analogies, cannot, without danger, be received in any explanation which attempts to deal only with the truths of science.

We cannot examine the varied phenomena of nature, without feeling that there must be other and most active principles of a higher order than any detected by science, to which belong the important operations of vitality, whether manifested in the plant or the animal. In treating of these, although speculation cannot be entirely avoided, it will be employed only so far as it gives any assistance in linking phenomena together.

We have to deal with the active agencies which give form and feature to nature—which regulate the harmony and beauty and vigour of life—and upon which depend those grand changes in the conditions of matter, which must convince us that death is but the commencement of a new state of being.