ich controls all physical phenomena. Now this
thing, called LAW, must be either spirit or matter, or a compound of
both. If it be spirit, then it acts upon matter directly; if, on the
contrary, it be itself matter, then spirit acts upon it; and, finally,
if it be a compound of the two, then it affords still stronger evidence
of reciprocal effects, which are decisive of the whole question in
dispute. We are conscious, however, that this reasoning is almost
puerile; for laws are mere abstractions, and not actual entities. They
indicate the mode in which causes produce effects; in other words, they
are signs of the intention and purpose with which the Great Spirit
carries on all his mighty works.

It is hardly necessary, in order to sustain our position, to follow the
steps of our contributor, in his attempted investigation of the mode of
communication between the human soul and the outer world, through the
senses. Many of his ideas might afford ground for interesting comment.
But the point in dispute is too distinct and circumscribed to require
many words for its elucidation. It is sufficient to say that in the
process of perception through sensation, there must be some point of
contact, at which the mind and the material object perceived by it are
brought into the relations of mutual influence. Whenever a material
object is cognized, there is a direct effect of matter upon the mind.
And so, likewise, in every case of voluntary muscular exertion, the
mandate of the will is communicated through the nerves, and the spirit
thus acts directly upon matter. No refinement of theory will avail to
get rid of these obvious facts; for, whatever intermediate agencies may
be imagined by way of explanation, they leave the ultimate truth
indisputable, that in some mysterious way, spirit and matter do
effectually operate upon each other.

We are in no degree committed to the doctrines of modern spiritualism,
and we shall not take issue with our contributor in his vehement protest
against the belief that disembodied spirits ever visit 'the warm
precincts of the cheerful day,' and make themselves known to living
mortals. An orthodox Christian, however, might have some hesitation, in
view of certain passages of Scripture, in utterly denying the
_possibility_ of such phenomena; and every reader of history and student
of philosophy might well exclaim with Tennyson:

'Dare I say
No spirit ever brake the band
Tha