I care for nothing, all shall go.”’—Tennyson.
‘All nature is but art, unknown to thee;
All chance, direction, which thou canst not see,
All discord, harmony not understood;
All partial evil, universal good;
And spite of pride, in erring reason’s spite,
One truth is clear, whatever is, is right.’—Pope.
154. In the two preceding Chapters we have dwelt upon the laws of energy and the ultimate constitution of matter; in other words, we have discussed the laws according to which the machine called the visible universe works, as well as the probable nature of the material of which it is composed. We have in this process (Arts. 86, 151) come to the conclusion that the visible universe has been developed out of the invisible. Once developed, it has its own laws of action which we may discover,—laws which at present appear to be invariably followed, as far at least as our strictly scientific experience can inform us.
In fine, the visible universe is that which we are in a position to observe; gaining an insight into its present method of working, and trying also to reply to the very interesting question, Has it always worked in its present manner, or has there ever been any apparent break?
Let us therefore consider this visible universe immediately after its production, and endeavour to become acquainted with the course of its development. What did it do? Was it, or was it not, entirely left to itself, and to what may be termed the natural laws impressed upon it when it was produced? Or, if the results of our inquiry seem to show that it was not entirely left to itself, when, to what extent, and for what purposes, has there been and is there interference proceeding from the unseen?