Power that he refers in the last analysis all the changes of species and all the transmutations of environment which are exhibited by this universe. Mr Spencer is therefore more than a Darwinian; he is a Darwinian plus a transcendentalist. He goes all the length of Darwin, but he continues his journey after Darwin has stopped. He reduces the different species of existence within the limits of a single, mechanical chain, but immediately afterwards he discovers that the mechanical chain is itself only the symbol of a great, incomprehensible Power, which is the ultimate and the final factor in the whole process of development. Now, if we turn to the record of Genesis we shall find that here again, making allowance for the inevitable difference of expression, the scientific view has been amply anticipated. If the Book of Genesis recognises the existence of a physical element as one of the factors in the production of life, it recognises not less strongly that the causal force of this element is only a borrowed or delegated power, and that the real agent even in the physical process is the presence and the action of the great central Life. If the plant, the animal, and the man seem to spring spontaneously from the soil, this is, after all, only an appearance. So far from being spontaneous agents, the plant, the animal, the man, and the soil itself which seems to give them birth, are all themselves but the passive

instruments of a great, transcendental Life, whose being they are made to manifest. "Let the earth

bring forth grass," is not an ultimate statement, not the final account of the matter; the final account of the matter is contained in the immediately preceding words, "And God said." The dust of the ground is said to constitute the material out of which the form of man was moulded, but even this physical side of the process is immediately asserted not to have been physical. "The Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground;" the prime agent in the process is even here the great, central Life, and the mechanical chain, the moment it has become visible, is instantaneously superseded by the presence of a Power which transcends all mechanism and disowns all limits.

If, now, we ask what, according to the Book of Genesis, constitutes the distinctive point of difference between man and the lower animals, the answer will not be hard to find. The difference between them, according to this Book, does not lie in the notion that the animal has only a material origin, while the man has in addition a transcendental origin; the Book of Genesis does not admit this to be a fact. It holds that material conditions were in themselves no more able to produce the animal than to produce the man; that alike for the animal and for the man there was

required the intervention of the theocratic mandate, "God said." But according to the writer of Genesis the man is higher than the animal, simply by reason of the fact that there is more of God in him, that he is a higher manifestation of the power of that central Life which constitutes the being of all other lives. The life of the animal has equally its source in God, but it does not derive from that source an equal amount of vital power. The pre-eminence of the man consists in this, that he exemplifies more fully the majesty of that Life from which he, in common with the inferior crea>tures, has derived his origin. This clearly appears, we think, in the very words which follow the description of man's physical creation. After having formed him from the dust of the earth, it is significantly added that God breathed into his nostrils the breath of life. We understand the words to mean, that God distinguished man from the orders which had preceded him by making him to a certain extent partaker of something analogous to His own creative power. Let it be remembered that in the view of the writer of Genesis the creative power of God was first manifested in the breathing of His life; the Spirit or breath of God moved on the face of the waters. This Divine breath, therefore, is here taken as the highest symbol by which to describe His creative power. When it is said that God breathed into man's

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nostrils the breath of life, it is implied that God gave to man the power to reproduce in a certain measure His own creative energy, inspired him with somewhat of that force which had fashioned the elements of chaos into beauty, symmetry, and order. Man came upon the scene no longer as a mere spectator, but as an intelligent actor and a possible fellow-worker with God. He was not singular in owing his origin to the Divine Life: he shared that honour with the beast of the field, but he was distinguished from the beast of the field in bearing the image of that Life. That image we believe to have been man's possession of a creative power-the fact that God breathed into him that very breath1 which originally had moved upon the face of the waters.

Let us now ask, whether in this account of the creation of man there be an indication of any leap in the order of the universe. If it be so, then this narrative of Genesis must ever stand opposed to the records of the doctrine of evolution. The doctrine of evolution admits of no leap in the order of nature; it allows no paroxysm, no catastrophe, no sudden or unexpected emergency, to break the ordinary sequence of that great chain of continuity which binds the highest to the lowest. Any system of religion, or any system of philo

1 The Hebrew word differs from that in Genesis i. 2, but Hebrew reverence may account for this.

sophy, which recognises or involves the presence of such revolutions, is thereby placed upon a footing outside the domain of the evolutionist. But is the narrative of Genesis in this position? We say that it is not. We hold that this narrative, in the account it gives of the creation of man, has not introduced this climax as a leap in the order of nature. In passing from the animal to the man, it indeed recognises the fact that nature has made a vast progress, but it holds the progress to have been made not by leaping but by stepping. It does not admit that on the spiritual side there has been any real addition to the sum of the universe, for the breath of life which constitutes the height of the new creation is itself but an impartation of that original Divine breath which moved at first over the unconscious elements of chaos. Neither can it be said that on the physical side of man's nature the narrative of Genesis exhibits a leap in the order of creation; it assigns to him a physical basis of life identical with that which it assigns to the orders which had gone before him. It is true that the Book of Genesis does not point to a missing link which forms the boundary between the animal and the man; but let us remember that the evolutionist himself has hitherto failed to discover that link. All that we can here say is, that whenever the evolutionist

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