between Christianity and Atheism will resolve itself into a contest
between Christianity and Pantheism. For, in the Christian sense,
Pantheism is itself Atheistic, since it denies the Divine personality,
and ascribes to the universe those attributes which belong only to the
living God; but then it is a distinct and very peculiar form of Atheism,
much more plausible in its pretensions, more fascinating to the
imagination, and less revolting to the reason, than those colder and
coarser theories which ascribed the origin of the world to a fortuitous
concourse of atoms, or to the mere mechanical laws of matter and motion.
It admits much which the Atheism of a former age would have denied; it
recognizes the principle of causality, and gives a reason, such as it
is, for the existing order of Nature; it adopts the very language of
Theism, and speaks of the Infinite, the Eternal, the Unchangeable One;
it may even generate a certain mystic piety, in which elevation of
thought may be blended with sensibility of emotion, springing from a
warm admiration of Nature; and it admits of being embellished with the
charms of a seductive eloquence, and the graces of a sentimental poetry.
It may be regarded, therefore, not indeed as the only, but as the most
formidable rival of Christian Theism at the present day.

We have sometimes thought that the recent discoveries of Chemical
Science might have a tendency, at least in the case of superficial
minds, to create a prepossession in favor of Pantheism; for what does
modern Chemistry exhibit, but the spectacle of Nature passing through a
series of successive transmutations?--the same substance appearing in
different forms, and assuming in every change different properties, but
never annihilated, never destroyed; now existing in the form of solid
matter, again in the form of a yielding fluid, again in the form of an
elastic gas; now nourishing a plant, and entering into its very
substance; now incorporated with an animal, and forming its sinews or
its bones; now reduced again to dust and ashes, but only to appear anew,
and enter once more into other combinations. The facts are certain, and
they are sufficiently striking to suggest the question, May not Nature
itself be the one Being whose endless transformations constitute the
history of the universe? This question may be naturally suggested, and
it may even be lawfully entertained; but it cannot be satisfactorily
determined by any theory which