of Materialism though averse to the legitimate consequences flowing from
their recognition.

According to this argument, then, nothing exists which has not solidity
and extension, and nothing is extended and solid but matter, which in
one state forms a crystal, in another a blade of grass, in a third a
butterfly, and in other states other forms. The _essence_ of grass, or
the _essence_ of crystal, in other words, those native energies of their
several forms constituting and keeping them what they are, can no more
be explained than can the _essentiality_ of human nature.

But the Atheist, because he finds it impossible to explain the action of
matter, because unable to state why it exhibits such vast and various
energies as it is seen to exhibit, is none the less assured it
_naturally_ and therefore _necessarily_ acts thus energetically. No
Atheist pretends to understand how bread nourishes his frame, but of the
_fact_ that bread does nourish it he is well assured. He understands not
how or why two beings should by conjunction give vitality to a third
being more or less analogous to themselves, but the _fact_ stares him in
the face.

Our 'sophists in surplices,' who can no otherwise bolster up their
supernatural system than by outraging all such rules of philosophising
as forbid us to choose the greater of two difficulties, or to multiply
causes without necessity, are precisely the men to explain everything.
But unfortunately their explanations do for the most part stand more in
need of explanation than the thing explained. Thus they explain the
origin of matter by reference to an occult, immense, and immensely
mysterious phantasm without body, parts or passions, who sees though not
to be seen, hears though not to be heard, feels though not to be felt,