I believe no one has ever doubted that the destruction of the world by water, here described, refers to Noah’s deluge. Now, how absurd to admit that this is a literal description of that event, and then to maintain the remainder of the sentence, which declares the future destruction of that same world by fire, to be figurative in the highest degree! For if this destruction mean only the destruction of Jerusalem, or any other great political or moral revolution, the language is one of the boldest figures which can be framed. Who, that knows any thing of the laws of language, does not see the supreme absurdity of thus coupling in the same sentence the most simple and certain literality with the strongest of all figures? What mark is given us, by which we may know where the boundary is between the literal and the metaphorical sense? From what part of the Bible, or from what uninspired author, can a parallel example be adduced? What but the strongest necessity, the most decided exigentia loci, would justify such an anomalous interpretation of any author? Nay, I do not believe any necessity could justify it. It would be more reasonable to infer that the passage had no meaning, or an absurd one. But surely no such necessity exists in the present case. Understood literally, the passage teaches only what is often expressed, though less fully, in many other parts of Scripture; and even though some of these other passages should be involved in a degree of obscurity,—and I am not disposed to deny that some obscurity rests upon one or two of them,—it would be no good reason for transforming so plain a description into a highly-wrought figurative representation; especially when by no ingenuity can we thus alter more than one part of the sentence. I conclude, therefore, that, if any part of the Bible is literal, we are thus to consider this chapter of Peter.

In the second place, this passage does not teach that the earth will be annihilated.

The prevailing opinion in this country, probably, has been, and still is, that the destruction of the world described by Peter will amount to annihilation—that the matter of the globe will cease to be. But in all ages there have been many who believe that the destruction will be only the ruin of the present economy of the world, but not its utter extinction. And surely Peter’s description does not imply annihilation of the matter of the globe. He makes fire the agent of the destruction, and, in order to ascertain the extent of the ruin that will follow, we have only to inquire what effect combustion will have upon matter. The common opinion is, that intense combustion actually destroys or annihilates matter, because it is thereby dissipated. But the chemist knows that not one particle of matter has ever been thus deprived of existence; that fire only changes the form of matter, but never annihilates it. When solid matter is changed into gas, as in most cases of combustion, it seems to be annihilated, because it disappears; but it has only assumed a new form, and exists as really as before. Since, therefore, biblical and scientific truth must agree, we may be sure that the apostle never meant to teach that the matter of the globe would cease to be, through the action of fire upon it; nor is there any thing in his language that implies such a result, but most obviously the reverse.

If these things be so, then, in the third place, we may infer that Peter did not mean to teach that the matter of the globe would be in the least diminished by the final conflagration. I doubt not the sufficiency of divine power partially or wholly to annihilate the material universe. But heat, however intense, has no tendency to do this; it only gives matter a new form. And heat is the only agency which the apostle represents as employed. In short, we have no evidence, either from science or revelation, that the minutest atom of matter has ever been destroyed since the original creation; nor have we any more evidence that any of it ever will be reduced to the nothingness from which it sprang. The prevalent ideas upon this subject all result from erroneous notions of the effect of intense heat.

In the fourth place, the passage under consideration teaches us that whatever upon or within the earth is capable of combustion will undergo that change, and that the entire globe will be melted.

The language of Peter has always seemed to me extremely interesting. He says that the heavens [or atmosphere] will pass away with a great noise, and the elements shall melt with fervent heat; the earth, also, and the works that are therein, shall be burned up; looking for, and hasting unto the coming of the day of God, wherein the heavens, being on fire, shall be dissolved, and the elements shall melt with fervent heat.

This language approaches nearer to an anticipation of the scientific discoveries of modern times than any other part of Scripture. And yet, at the time it was written, it would not have enabled any one to understand the chemistry of the great changes which it describes. But, now that their chemistry is understood, we perceive that the language is adapted to it, in a manner which no uninspired writer would have done. The atmosphere is represented as passing away with a great noise—an effect which the chemist would predict by the union of its oxygen with the hydrogen and other gases liberated by the intense heat. Yet what uninspired writer of the first century would have imagined such a result?

Again, when we consider the notions which then prevailed, and which are still widely diffused, why should the apostle add to the simple statement that the earth would be burnt up, the declaration that its elements would be melted? For the impression was, that the combustion would entirely destroy the matter of the globe. But the chemist finds that the greater part of the earth has already been oxidized, or burnt, and on this matter the only effect of the heat, unless intense enough to dissipate it, would be to melt it. If, therefore, the apostle had said only that the world would be burnt up, the sceptical chemist would have inferred that he had made a mistake through ignorance of chemistry. But he cannot now draw such an inference; for the apostle’s language clearly implies that only the combustible matter of the globe will be burnt, while the elements, or first principles of things, will be melted; so that the final result will be an entire liquid, fiery globe. Such a wonderful adaptation of his description to modern science could not surely have resulted from human sagacity, but must be the fruit of divine inspiration.

And this adaptation is the more wonderful when we find it running through the whole Bible wherever the sacred writers come in contact with scientific subjects. In this respect, the Bible differs from every other system of religion professedly from heaven.

Whenever other systems have treated of the works of nature, they have sanctioned some error, and thus put into the hands of modern science the means of detecting the imposture. The Vedas of India adopt the absurd notions of an ignorant and polytheistic age respecting astronomy, and the Koran adopts as infallible truth the absurdities of the Ptolemaic system. But hitherto the Bible has never been proved to come into collision with any scientific discovery, although many of its books were written in the rudest and most ignorant ages. It does not, indeed, anticipate scientific discovery. But the remarkable adaptation of its language to such discoveries, when they are made, seems to me a more striking mark of its divine origin than if it had contained a revelation of the whole system of modern science.