It is true that, at the commencement, numerous worldly motives tend to place most prominently before us the temporal advantages of scientific Inquiry. There are distinctions of wealth, rank, position, which not unfrequently await its successful cultivation. Then there are the multiform applications of science in extending the enjoyments, in ministering to the wants, and, still better, relieving the calamities of mankind; but when we have arrived at this, surely the acmé of its _utilitarian_ allurements, we find there are still higher motives engendered—that science has a still richer harvest to encourage its onward cultivation. Nor is it too much to say, that, if cultivated aright, the fruits may be more surely garnered than any of those to which we have previously referred. The harvest we mean consists of those moralizing influences which, however neglected, are never separable from the study of Nature; which, however ordinary the impulses with which the inquiry may have commenced, slowly overlay it with motives and feelings which lead us to investigate Nature for the sake of truth alone. And here, we think, first dawns upon us the conclusion to which we have alluded: viz. that the highest attractions of science are to be found in what we venture to term its "Religion." However much the influences first mentioned tend to place the more lofty suggestions of science in temporary abeyance, there always comes a time when the sincere inquirer begins to feel a double current of thought. In the one, the thoughts are open, aspiring—ambitious, it may be—public, and directed only to the laws and phenomena of Nature; in the other, they are calm, deep, humble, silent, and _will_ turn to the Supreme Cause. The former may foster his ambition, animate his research, sustain his industry. The latter carry him beyond those influences, and supplies something which they cannot give. In loving truth for its own sake, he learns by degrees to lean little on the worldly appreciation of labour—convinced that whatever is true, will one day find its own way, in the time best fitted for it. We cannot help thinking that it is the force of this double current of thought by which that climax has been reached by some of the greatest minds; which has exemplified the coincidence of the utmost range of human knowledge with the most profound humility; thus rendering the highest aspirations of science subservient to the cultivation of a principle; inseparable, we suppose, from all Religion; but certainly one of the most distinguishing characteristics of Christianity.