810 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY 



ence with the laws of Nature had taken place. Yet the generally 

 obstinate refusal of men of science to receive any verbal witness of 

 such facts is a proof that they believe them contrary to a code of law 

 which is more or less complete in their experience, and altogether com- 

 plete in their conception ; and I think it is therefore the province of 

 some one of our scientific members to lay down for us the true prin- 

 ciple by which we may distinguish the miraculous violation of a known 

 law from the natural discovery of an unknown one. . . . However," he 

 proceeded, "the two main facts we have to deal with are that the his- 

 torical record of miracle is always of inconstant power, and that our 

 own actual energies are inconstant almost in exact proportion to their 

 worthiness. First, I say the history of miracle is of inconstant power. 

 St. Paul raises Eutychus from death, and his garments effect miracu- 

 lous cure, yet he leaves Trophimus sick at Miletus, recognizes only the 

 mercy of God in the recovery of Epaphroditus, and, like any uninspired 

 physician, recommends Timothy wine for his infirmities. And in the 

 second place, our own energies are inconstant almost in proportion to 

 their nobleness. We breathe with regularity, and can count upon the 

 strength necessary for common tasks, but the record of our best work 

 and our happiest moments is always one of success which we did not 

 expect, and of enthusiasm which we could not prolong." 



As Mr. Ruskin ceased, Walter Bagehot, the then editor of the 

 " Economist," and a favorite among us for his literary brilliance, 

 opened his wide black eyes, and, gulping down what seemed to be an 

 inclination to laugh at some recollection of his own, said : Mr. Rus- 

 kin's remark that he had always been expecting the sun to stand still 

 was to me peculiarly interesting, because, as I have formerly told the 

 society, whatever may be the grounds for assuming the uniformity of 

 Nature, I hold that tbere is nothing which the natural mind of man, 

 unless subjected to a very serious discipline for the express purpose of 

 producing that belief, is less likely to assume. A year or two ago I 

 ventured to express in this room the opinion that credulity is the nat- 

 ural condition of almost every man. "Every child," I said, "believes 

 Avhat the footman tells it, what the nurse tells it, and what its mother 

 tells it, and probably every one's memory will carry him back to the 

 horrid mass of miscellaneous confusion which he acquired by believing 

 all he heard." I hold that children believe in the suggestions of their 

 imaginations quite as confidently as they believe in the asseverations 

 of tbeir memories ; and if grown-up men do not, it is only that their 

 credulity has been battered out of them by the hard discipline of con- 

 stant disappointment. What can be better evidence that there is at 

 least no a priori belief in the uniformity of Nature than the delight in 

 fairy tales, which, certainly in childhood, are accepted with quite as 

 much private belief that some great enchanter's wand will be trium- 

 phantly found at last, as are the dullest and most matter-of-fact of 

 histories? Indeed, you will find in almost every young person of any 



