330 THE FOUNDATIONS OF ZOOLOGY 



explaineth Himself to the eyes of men by the sensible interven- 

 tion of arbitrary signs, which have no similitude or necessary 

 connection with the things signified ; so as, by compounding and 

 composing them, to suggest and exhibit an endless variety of 

 objects, differing in nature, time, and place ; thereby informing 

 and directing men how to act with respect to things distant and 

 future as well as near and present. 



"In consequence, I say, of your own sentiments and conces- 

 sions, you have as much reason to think the Universal Agent 

 or God speaks to your eyes, as you can have for thinking any 

 particular person speaks to your ears. 



" You, it seems, stare to find God is not far from every one of 

 us ; and that in Him we live, and move, and have our being. You, 

 who in the beginning of this morning's conference, thought it 

 strange God should leave Himself without a witness, do now 

 think it strange the witness should be so full and clear." 



The modern philologist knows that the relation between words 

 and the things they signify is orderly and natural ; for he studies, 

 by scientific methods, the natural laws shown by the life and 

 growth of language; but I am as unable to see why one must 

 know that the relation between natural signs and their signifi- 

 cance is "arbitrary," before he admits the reality of the language 

 of nature, as I am to see how the scientific study of language 

 shows that discourse with the wise is not useful and instructive 

 and entertaining. 



In fact, Berkeley, who here asserts that the relation is "arbi- 

 trary," tells us, in " Siris " that it is "necessary." I am quite 

 unable to see how or why his reasoning should seem more con- 

 vincing to an idealist than to one who is "of a vulgar cast," and 

 simple enough to take things as he finds them. 



Berkeley, the idealist, says nature is nothing but a language, 

 but I fail to see how his reasoning turns on this, "nothing but." 



Berkeley, the realist, tells us the language of nature " is neces- 

 sary to assist the governed " ; but if we are sure nature is useful, 

 why should we care whether it, or any part of it, is necessary, 

 or unnecessary ? 



The eternal paradox about necessity and freedom has no mean- 

 ing to the humble-minded zoologist, who admits his accountability, 



