was written, and not long before writing his own epistles, that is, in the last half of the year 63, or in the beginning of 64. And as he suffered martyrdom in the Neronian persecution, we can hardly extend his sojourn there beyond a year" (Schaff, Apostol. Hist., p. 371). But, we maintain, for what seems to us very good reasons, that his first epistle, at all events, was written in Babylon in Asia. Hence, he would have to journey to Rome in order to be martyred. But there is no evidence that he did. All the legends which remove him to the Eternal City, tell a story in direct contradiction to known facts. But if we put a later date upon the epistle, we then make it impossible for Peter to have come to Rome, both because the Neronian persecution lasted only a short time, and because Peter would then have to come to Rome after the death of Paul; but this contradicts all tradition. There is a legend that Paul came to Rome after Peter's death, but none that the reverse is the case. With this brief notice of the difficulties in the way of a chronological settlement, we close our discussion of the question: Was Peter ever in Rome?

What are the results we have arrived at? 1. There is no Scriptural warrant for this belief. No word of Christ, no statement of Luke, no sentence of Paul, no reminiscences of any New Testament writer, even darkly hint at its likelihood.

2. But, although post-biblical, the advocates of the theory appeal to the fathers for its support. They place much dependence upon Clement of Rome. But we have shown that he has nothing explicit to say on the point, whether Peter was in Rome, and Clement lived there in the first century. His testimony can not be pleaded in favor of Peter's residence in Rome.

3. The next witness is Ignatius, but he has nothing decisive to offer on this question.

4. But ere the next father speaks, the immense mass of tradition about Peter begins to be developed. Peter and Simon are set over against one another. But under the mask of Simon, Paul is concealed. At once the true relation of things comes out in a strong light. Peter is put in Rome to fight Simon; in other words, Petrine and Pauline Christianity meet

in the great city of the world, to struggle for the final victory. No scholar would grant that the incidents of those marvellous stories are true. Why, then, rejecting everything else as fabulous, does any one cling, in the face of the New Testament, in the face of rational probability, to the single fact, which, in our judgment, is not a fact, that Peter was in Rome? Why should he come there? To die? What possible purpose could his death there have served?

5. But having this legend before them, it is not in the least strange that father after father speaks of Peter as being in Rome. It was the policy of the growing Church of Rome to spread this opinion. It added dignity to her most prominent bishop to hold the "Chair of Peter."

6. Lastly, we have shown how chronological support fails. There is no time for this supposed Roman residence.

Was Peter ever in Rome? We answer in the words of Dr. Lipsius: "The Roman Peter-legend proves itself to be, from beginning to end, a fiction, and thus our critical judgment is confirmed: THE FEET OF Peter NEVER TROD THE STREETS OF ROME."

NOTE. The materials for the present article are, as appears, chiefly taken from Dr. Lipsius. The writer hopes, before long, to publish a translation of his acute and able treatise.

Art. IV. FINAL CAUSES AND CONTEMPORA

NEOUS PHYSIOLOGY.*

The Works of Man and the Works of Nature.

By M. PAUL JANET, Member of the Institute. Translated from the Revue des deux Mondes by WILLIAM ALLEN SMITH.

1. Harmonies providentielles, par M. CH. LÉVÊQUE. II. Leçons sur les propriétés des tissus vivans, par M. CLAUDE Bernard. III. De l'appropriation des parties organiques à des actes déterminés, par M. CHARLES

ROBIN.

FOR many centuries the existence of God has been proved by the wonders of nature, or, in the language of philosophers, by final causes. Fénelon, in a celebrated book, eloquently developed this argument; Cicero expounded it before him, and in almost the same terms; still earlier Socrates, as Xenophon tells us, furnished the first text, which Cicero and Fénelon developed; and though he seems to be the first philosopher who used this argument, it is probable that popular good sense had preceded him. In modern times many philosophers and scholars have applied themselves to the study of final causes.t This study has itself given birth to a complete science, Natural Theology, which, in England, in Germany, in Holland, and in Switzerland, has produced innumerable treatises, equally instructive and interesting. The most independent and daring minds have not been able to escape the force of this argument. Voltaire, notwithstanding the pleasantries of Candide, was very fond of it, and his friends, the encyclopedists, called him, in jest, the cause-finalier [final causer].

*The author of this article is well known as one of the best representatives of the spiritualist philosophy in France, and as one of the most skillful and sagacious opponents of positivism and materialism. Among his ablest works are a Treatise on Ethics; a History of Philosophy; the History of Political Philosophy; the Dialectics of Plato: Brain and Thought. A complete treatise by him on the whole doctrine of Final Causes is announced.

† Final Cause, in the language of the schools, signifies end, design. The argument of final causes consists in saying that there are in nature ends, and means adapted to these ends, and that this implies foresight and wisdom. The workman is known by his work.

An argument so old and so universal, which could unite Fénelon and Voltaire, which Kant himself, although criticising it on certain accounts, never mentioned without respectful sympathy, will always have a persuasive and victorious force; it will always be useful and interesting to bring it into notice, supporting it by new examples. All generations should be able to read the Harmonies of Nature in a language appropriate to the state of science. No philosopher can regard as beneath him a work, demanding at the same time, wide knowledge, an earnest understanding of the problem, and a tact sufficiently exercised to make it intelligible to all, without lowering the dignity of the science, or changing the truth of the facts. These are the merits of the recent work of M. Charles Lévêque on Providential Harmonies, a work written with both thoroughness and imagination. Less brilliant than Bernadin de Saint Pierre, the author is more exact and deserves more credit. His book will obtain a distinguished place among the good works on natural theology, which are more rare in France than in other countries. Those which we now possess are, moreover, generally rather eloquent than convincing. Fénelon's Traité de l'existence de Dicu, for instance, is, without doubt, a very beautiful book; but Fénelon, though a charming writer, a refined and profound metaphysician, was not versed in the sciences; the facts which he cites are few in number, and much too vague; and he relies more frequently on ignorance than on knowledge to.make us admire the wonders of nature. The Etudes and the Harmonies of Bernadin de Saint Pierre are more rich in facts; the author certainly has a varied and extended knowledge, but it is an adventurous and poetic knowledge, too often inexact, and we cannot trust affirmations which are, or may at any step prove to be, mixed with errors. In short, the evident mistakes which these two authors have made concerning final causes, and which, with the latter, sometimes become ridiculous, seriously compromise the cause itself, which they defend. The work of M. Charles Lévêque, on the contrary, free from these faults, is built upon the most solid knowledge; the facts in it are well chosen and set forth with simplicity; the difficulties are not eluded, and, although the size of the book has not permitted a full discussion, they are approached and resolved with clearness and precision. It will be said that this

is popular philosophy. This is a great encomium. True philosophy is that which knows how to make itself everything to all men, and which can speak both the language of the school and of the fireside. There is nothing more sublime than the philosophy of Plato, and, at the same time, how popular it is. A half thought carries us away from popular philosophy; deeper thought brings us back to it. Bossuet has said: "Malheur à la connaissance stérile, qui ne se tourne pas à aimer." It may also be said: Woe to the pure philosophy which does not contribute to the instruction and improvement of men.

Nevertheless, criticism and logic do not lose their rights. Popular philosophy aims chiefly at results; learned philosophy searches after and examines principles. The whole of natural theology rests on the analogy between human industry and the industry of nature; between the human method and the method of nature. Our attention is called to a palace, a statue, a picture, a watch; at each of these examples, Fénelon asks if it can be the result of chance; then, returning to the universe, he describes it to us, more beautiful than a palace, more wisely joined together than any machine made by man, and from the perfection of the work he concludes to the perfection of the workman. Voltaire, also, saw nothing in the universe but a "clock," and he was astounded that any one could believe" that this clock had no clock-maker." Is there any foundation for such analogies? Does science here come to the support of philosophy, or is it contrary to it? Does it permit us to ascribe designs and combinations to the universal cause, or does it forbid this hypothesis? We are accustomed to attach great import. ance to this confronting of philosophy and science, and it seems to us that this is always very profitable to both. Let us interrogate, then, the sciences, and chiefly that one which seems to be the proper domain of final cause; let us consult on the question which we are discussing, the most authoritative masters of contemporaneous physiology.

I.

Ancient physiology, following the footsteps of Galen, occu pied itself principally with what was called the use of parts, that is to say, the use of organs and their adaption to functions. Struck with the admirable harmony, which for the most