nistered them. Ever as he reaches some ultimate truth, such as the
mystery of electricity, of light, of life, of gravitation, which he can
not explain, and beyond which he can not penetrate, he hears the voice
of God therein, demanding him to acknowledge his impotence.

"Where is the way where light dwelleth,
And as for darkness, what is the place thereof?
Canst thou bind the sweet influences of the Pleiades,
Or loose the bands of Orion?
Canst thou bring forth Mazzaroth in his seasons?
Or canst thou guide Arcturus, with his sons?
Knowest thou the ordinances of heaven?
Canst thou set the dominion thereof in the earth?
Canst thou lift up thy voice to the clouds,
That abundance of waters may cover thee?
Canst thou send lightnings, that they may go
And say unto thee, 'Here we are?'"

4. _Our consciences convince us that God is a Moral Governor._ The
distinction between brutes and men is, that man has a sense of the
distinction between right and wrong. If we find a tribe of savages, or
individuals who indulge their appetites without rule, and who do wrong
without any apparent remorse or shame, we designate them brutes. Even
those who in words deny any difference between right and wrong, do in
fact admit its existence, by their attempts to justify that opinion.
Though weaker, or less regarded in some than in others, every man is
conscious of a faculty in himself which sits in judgment on his own
conduct, and that of others, approving or condemning it as right or
wrong. In all lands, and in all ages, the common sense of mankind has
acknowledged the existence and moral authority of conscience, as
distinct from and superior to mere intellect. No language of man is
destitute of words conveying the ideas of virtue and vice, of goodness
and wickedness. When one attempts to deceive you by a willful lie, you
are sensible not only of an intellectual process of reason detecting the
error, but of a distinct judgment of disapprobation of the crime. When
one who has received kindness from a benefactor, neglects to make any
acknowledgment of it, cherishes no feelings of gratitude, and insults
and abuses the friend who succored him, we are conscious, not merely of
the facts, as phenomena to be observed, but of the ingratitude, as a
crime to be detested. And we are irresistibly constrained to believe
that he who taught us this knowledge of a difference between right and
wrong, d