"I suppose that nineteen hundred years ago, when Julius Cæsar was good enough to deal with Britain as we have dealt with New Zealand, the primeval Briton, blue with cold and woad, may have known that the strange black stone, of which he found lumps here and there in his wanderings, would burn, and so help to warm his body and cook his food. Saxon, Dane, and Norman swarmed into the land. The English people grew into a powerful nation, and Nature still waited for a return for the capital she had invested in the ancient club-mosses. The eighteenth century arrived, and with it James Watt. The brain of that man was the spore out of which was developed the steam-engine, and all the prodigious trees and branches of modern industry which have grown out of this. But coal is as much an essential condition of this growth and development as carbonic acid is for that of a club-moss. Wanting the coal, we could not have smelted the iron needed to make our engines, nor have worked our engines when we had got them. But take away the engines, and the great towns of Yorkshire and Lancashire vanish like a dream. Manufactures give place to agriculture and pasture, and not ten men could live where now ten thousand are amply supported. "Thus all this abundant wealth of money and of vivid life is Nature's investment in club-mosses and the like so long ago. But what becomes of the coal which is burnt in yielding the interest? Heat comes out of it, light comes out of it, and if we could gather together all that goes up the chimney and all that remains in the grate of a thoroughly-burnt coal fire, we should find ourselves in possession of a quantity of carbonic acid, water, ammonia, and mineral matters, exactly equal in weight to the coal. But these are the very matters with which Nature supplied the club-moss which made the coal. She is paid back principal and interest at the same time; and she straightway invests the carbonic acid, the water, and the ammonia in new forms of life, feeding with them the plants that now live. Thrifty Nature! surely no prodigal, but most notable of housekeepers!" All this is true and admirably put. Its one weak point is the poetical personification of Nature as an efficient planner of the whole. Such an imaginary goddess is a mere superstition, unknown alike to science and theology. Surely it is more rational to hold that the mind which can utilize the coal and understand the manner of its formation, is itself made in the image and likeness of the Supreme Creative Spirit, in whom we live and move and have our being, who knows the end from the beginning, whose power is the origin of natural forces, whose wisdom is the source of laws and correlations of laws, and whose great plan is apparent alike in the order of nature of the Palæozoic world and of the modern world, as well as in the relation of these to each other.