There is scarcely a faculty man possesses, which is not immeasurably limited in comparison with the powers and capabilities of inanimate nature. His physical energy, when compared with that of the {146} momentum of this Earth, is so exceedingly small that it can hardly be conveyed to our minds by means of figures; even the steam engine, excessively wasteful as it is of power, far surpasses him in strength. The duration of his existence is to that of the world he inhabits, as nothing to infinity. His power and speed of locomotion are also very limited; the globe to which he is fixed by gravity, moves in one hour through a distance greater than he could walk in twenty years. Practically, by circumstances, he is almost rooted like a vegetable to the locality where he exists; comparatively few men have walked even a hundred miles from their homes, or have been conveyed round this little globe by the aid of all our improved means of transport. A balloon can ascend in the air, but a man cannot; without the aid of that apparatus he is absolutely fixed to the surface of the Earth, and with the assistance of all the appliances of science, he cannot yet ascend even ten miles into the atmosphere, nor dive more than a few fathoms into the sea. His senses are equally contracted; his perceptions of touch and sound are far less delicate than that of the microphone; a photographic surface will detect vibrations of light which he cannot at all perceive, and record images more quickly than his brain; and for the detection of magnetism and the chemical rays of light he possesses no sense whatever:--electrometers and galvanometers can detect thousands of times smaller quantities of electricity than he can perceive:--whilst a bolometer renders manifest a one {147} hundred-thousandth of a Centigrade degree change of temperature, he can hardly detect a difference of an entire degree; and whilst carbon and platinum may be heated to whiteness without material change, a rise or fall of about five Fahrenheit degrees in his temperature endangers his life. His mental and intellectual powers are as limited as his senses; he can hardly reckon without making an error even a single million, nor can he conceive an adequate idea of a billion; a million miles or a millionth of an inch are each quite beyond his immediate perception; an extremely minute circumstance also is capable of disturbing and entirely diverting his train of thought. He cannot create or destroy even a particle of dust, nor form out of nothing a single idea. The velocity of transmission of his nervous power, and the speed of his execution of will, are also extremely slow in comparison with that of an electric current in a copper wire. Every person is aware that he can only very slowly receive and understand a new idea. His mental advance is as tardy as his locomotion, a sixth part of his life is spent in acquiring the merest rudiments of universal knowledge. Whilst