ASTONOMICAL DISCOURSES
Discourse 2 The Modesty of True Science.
And if any man think that he knoweth any thing, he
knoweth nothing yet as he ought to know."
- l CORINTHIANS 8:2.
THERE is much profound and important wisdom in that proverb of Solomon,
where it is said, that "the heart knoweth its own bitterness." It forms
part of a truth still more comprehensive, that every man knoweth his own
peculiar feelings, and difficulties, and trials, far better than he can get any
of his neighbours to perceive them.. It is natural to us all, that we should
desire to engross, to the uttermost, the sympathy of others with what is niost
painful to the sensibilities of our own bosom, and with what is most
aggravating in the hardsinps of our own situation. But, labour as we may, we
cannot, with every power of expression, make an adequate conveyance, as it
were, of all our sensations, and of all our circumstances, into another's
understanding. There is a something in the intimacy of a man's own experience,
which he cannot make to pass entire into the heart and mind even of his most
familiar companion and thus it is, that he is so often defeated in his attempts
to obtain a full and a cordial possession of his sympathy.
He is
mortified, and he wonders at the obtuseness ot the people around him - and that
he cannot get them to enter into the justness of his complainings - nor to feel
the point upon which turn the truth and the reason of his remonstrances - nor
to give their interested attention to the case of his peculiarities and of his
wrongs - nor to kindle, in generous resentment, along with him, when he starts
the topic of his indignation. He does not reflect, all the while, that, with
every human being he addresses, there is an inner man, which forms a theatre of
passions, and of interests as busy, as crowded, and as fitted as his own to
engross the anxious and the exercised feelings of a heart, which can alone
understand its own bitterness, and lay a correct estimate on the burden of its
own visitations. Every man we meet, carries about with him, in the unperceived
solitude of his bosom, a little world of his own - and we are just as blind,
and as insensible, and as dull, both of perception and of sympathy, about his
engrossing objects, as he is about ours; and, did we suffer this observation to
have all its weight upon us, it might serve to make us more candid, and more
considerate of others, It might serve to abate the monopolizing selfishness of
our nature, It might serve to soften down all the malignity which comes out of
those envious contemplations that we are so apt to cast on the fancied ease and
prosperity which are around us. It might serve to reconcile every man to ins
owm lot, and dispose him to bear, with thankfulness, his own burden ; and if
this train of sentiment were prosecuted with firmness, and calmness, and
impartiality, It would lead to the conclusion, that each, profession in life
has its own peculiar pains, and its own besetting inconveniences - that, from
the very bottom of society, up to the golden pinnacle which blazons upon its
summit, there is much in the shape of care and of suffering to be found - that,
throughout all the conceivable varieties of human condition, there are trials,
which can neither be adequately told on the one side, nor fully understood on
the other - that the ways of God to man are as equal in this, as in every
department of his administration - and that, go to whatever quarter of human
experience we may, we shall find that he has provided enough to exercise the
patience, and to accomplish the purposes of a wise and a salutary discipline
upon all his children.
I have brought forward this observation, that it
may prepare the way for a second. There are perhaps no two sets of human
beings, who comprehend less the movements, and enter less into the cares and
concerns, of each other, than the wide and busy public on the one hand, and, on
time other, those men of close and studious retirement, whom the world never
hears of, save when, from their thoughtful solitude, there issues forth some
splendid discovery, to set the world on a gaze of admiration. Then will the
brilliancy of a superior genius draw every eye towards it - and the homage paid
to intellectual superiority, will place its idol on a loftier eminence than all
wealth or than all titles can bestow - and the name of the successful
philosopher will circulate, in his own age, over the whole extent of civilized
society, and be borne down to posterity in the characters of ever- during
remembrance:, and thus it is, that, when we look back on the days Newton, we
annex a kind of mysterious greatness to him, who, by the pure force of his
understanding, rose to such a gigantic elevation above the level of ordinary
men - and the kings and warriors of other days sink into insignificance around
him - and he, at this moment, stands forth to the public eye, in a prouder
array of glory than circles the memory of all the men of former generations -
and, while all the vulgar grandeur of other days is now mouldering in
forgetfulness, the achievements of our great astronomer are still fresh in the
veneration of his countrymen, and they carry him forward on thu stream of time,
with a reputation ever gathering, and the triumphs of a distinction that will
never die.
Now, the point that I want to impress upon you is, that the
same public, who are so dazzled and overborne by the lustre of all this
superiority, are utterly in the dark as to what that is which confers its chief
merit on the philosophy of Newton. They see the result of his labours, but they
know not how to appreciate the difficulty or the extent of them. They look on
the stately edifice he has reared, but they know not what he had to do in
settling the foundation which gives to it all its stability; nor are they aware
what painful encounters he had to make, both with the natural predilections of
his own heart, and with the prejudices of others, when employed on the work of
laying together its unperishing materials. They have never heard of the
controversies which this man, of peaceful unambitious modesty, had to sustain
with all that was proud, and all that was intolerant in the philosophy of the
age. They have never, in thought, entered that closet which was the scene of
his patient and profound exercises - nor have they gone along with him, as he
gave his silent hours to the labours of the midnight oil, and plied that
unwearied task, to which the charm of lofty contemplation had allured him - nor
have they accompanied him through all the workings of that wonderful mind, from
which, as from the recesses of a laboratory, there came forth such gleams and
processes of thought as shed an effulgency over the whole amplitude of nature.
All this, the public have not done; for of this the great majority,
even of the reading and cultivated public, are utterly incapable; and therefore
is it, that they need to be told what that is, in which the main distinction of
his philosophy lies; that, when labouring in other fields of investigation,
they may know how to borrow from his safe example, and how to profit by that
superior wisdom which marked the whole conduct of his understanding. Let it be
understood, then, that they are the positive discoveries of Newton, which, in
the eye of a superficial public, confer upon him all his reputation. He
discovered the mechanism of the planetary system. He discovered the composition
of light. He discovered the cause of those alternate movements which take place
on the waters of the ocean. These form his actual and his visible achievements.
These are what the world look to as the monuments of his greatness. These are
doctrines by which he has enriched the field of philosophy; and thus it is,
that the whole of his merit is supposed to lie in having had the sagacity to
perceive, and the vigour to lay hold of the proofs which conferred upon these
doctrines all the establishment of a most rigid and conclusive demonstration.
But, while he gets all his credit, and all his admiration for those
articles of science which he has added to the creed of philosophers, he
deserves as much credit and admiration for those articles which he kept out of
this creed, as for those which lie introduced into it. It was the property of
his mind, that it kept a tenacious hold of every one position which had proof
to substantiate it: but it forms a property equally characteristic, and which,
in fact, gives its leading peculiarity to the whole spirit and style of his
investigations, that he put a most determined exclusion on every one position
that was destitute of such proof. He would not admit the astronomical theories
of those who went before him, because they had no proof. He would not give in
to their notions about the planets wheeling their rounds in whirlpools of ether
- for he did not see this ether - _he had no proof of its existence: and,
besides, even supposing it to exist, it would not have impressed, on the
heavenly bodies, such movements as met his observation. He would not submit his
judgment to the reigning systems of the day-for, though they had authority to
recommend them, they had no proof; and thus it is, that he evinced the strength
and the soundness of his philosophy, as much by his decisions upon those
doctrines of science which he rejected, as by his demonstration of those
doctrines of science which he was the first to propose, and which now stand out
to the eye of posterity as the only monuments to the force and superiority of
his understanding.
He wanted no other recommendation for any one
article of science, than the recommendation of evidence - and, with this
recommendation, he opened to it the chamber of his mind, though authority
scowled upon it, and taste was disgusted by it, and fashion was ashamed of it,
and all the beauteous speculation of former days was cruelly broken up by this
new announcement of the better philosophy, and scattered like the fragments of
an aerial vision, over which the past generations of the world had been
slumbering their profound and their pleasing reverie. But, on the other hand,
should the article of science want the recommendation of evidence, he shut
against it all the avenues of his understanding and though all antiquity lent
their suffrages to it, and all eloquence had thrown around it the most
attractive brilliancy, and all habit had incorporated it with every system of
every seminary in Europe, and all fancy had arrayed it in graces of the most
tempting solicitation; yet was the steady and inflexible mind of Newton proof
against this whole weight of authority and allurement, and, casting his cold
and unwelcome look at the specious plausibility, he rebuked it from his
presence. The strength of his philosophy lay as much in refusing admittance to
that which wanted evidence, as in giving a place and an occupancy to that which
possessed it. In that march of intellect, which led him onwards through the
rich and magnificent field of his discoveries, he pondered every step; and
while he advanced with a firm and assured movement, wherever the light of
evidence carried him, he never suffered any glare of imagination or of
prejudice to seduce him from his path.
Certain it is,that, in the
prosecution of his wonderful career, he found himself on a way beset with
temptation upon every side of him. It was not merely that he had the reigning
taste, and philosophy of the times to contend with. But he expatiated on a
lofty region, where, in all the giddiness of success, he might have met with
much to solicit his fancy, and tempt him to some devious speculation. Had he
been like the majority of other men, he would have broken free from the fetters
of a sober and chastised understanding, and, giving wing to his imagination,
had done what philosophers have done after him - been carried away by some
meteor of their own forming, or found their amusement in some of their own
intellectual pictures, or palmed some loose and confident plausibilities of
their own upon the world. But Newton stood true to his principle, that he would
take up with nothing which wanted evidence, and he kept by his demonstrations,
and his measurements, and his proofs; and, if it be true that he who ruleth his
own spirit is greater than he who taketh a city, there was won, in the solitude
of his chamber, many a repeated victory over himself, which should give a
brighter lustre to his name than all the conquests he has made on the field of
discovery, or than all the splendour of his positive achievements.
I
trust you understand, that, though it be one of the maxims of the true
philosophy, never to shrink from a doctrine which has evidence on its side, it
is another maxim, equally essential to it, never to harbour any doctrine when
this evidence is wanting. Take these two maxims along with you, and you will be
at no loss to explain the peculiarity, which, more than any other, goes both to
characterize and to ennoble the philosophy of Newton. What I allude to is, the
precious combination of its strength and of its modesty. On the one hand, what
greater evidence of strength than the fulfilment of that mighty enterprise, by
which the heavens have been made its own, and the mechanism of unnumbered
worlds has been brought within the grasp of the human understanding? Now, it
was by walking in the light of sound and competent evidence, that all this was
accomplished. It was by the patient, the strenuous, the unfaltering application
of the legitimate instruments of discovery. It was by touching that which was
tangible, and looking to that which was visible, and computing that which was
measurable, and, in one word, by making a right and a reasonable use of all
that proof which the field of nature around us has brought within the limit of
sensible observation. This is the arena on which the modern philosophy has won
all her victories, and fulfilled all her wondrous achievements, and reared all
her proud and enduring monuments, and gathered all her magnificent trophies, to
that power of intellect with which the hand of a bounteous heaven has so richly
gifted the constitution of our species.
But, on the other hand, go
beyond the limits of sensible observation, and, from that moment, the genuine
disciples of this enlightened school cast all their confidence and all their
intrepidity away from them. Keep them on the firm ground of experiment, and
none more bold and more decisive in their announcements of all that they have
evidence for - but, off this ground, none more humble, or more cautious of any
thing like positive announcements, than they. They choose neither to know, nor
to believe, nor to assert, where evidence is wanting, and they will sit, with
all the patience of a scholar to his task, till they have found it. They are
utter strangers to that haughty confidence with which some philosophers of the
day sport the plausibilities of unauthorized speculation, and by which,
unmindful of the limit that separates the region of sense from the region of
conjecture, they make their blind and their impetuous inroads into a province
which does not belong to them. There is no one object to which the exercised
mind of a true Newtonian disciple is more familiarized than this limit, and it
serves as a boundary by which he shapes, and bounds, and regulates all the
enterprises of his philosophy. All the space which lies within this limit, he
cultivates to the uttermost; and it is by such successive labours, that every
year which rolls over the world is witnessing some new contribution to
experimental science, and adding to the solidity and aggrandizemeat of this
wonderful fabric. But, if true to their own principle, then, in reference to
the forbidden ground which lies without this limit, those very men, who, on the
field of warranted exertion, evinced all the hardihood and vigour of a
full-grown understanding, show, on every subject where the light of evidence is
withheld from them, all the modesty of children. They give us positive opinion
only when they have indisputable proof but, when they have no such proof, then
they have no such opinion.
The single principle of their respect to
truth, secures their homage for every one position where the evidence of truth
is present, and, at the same time, begets an entire diffidence about every one
position from which this evidence is disjoined. And thus we may understand, how
the first man in the accomplishments of philosophy, which the world ever saw,
sat at the book of nature in the humble attitude of its interpreter and its
pupil how all the docility of conscious ignorance threw a sweet and softening
lustre around the radiance even of his most splendid discoveries: and, while
the flippancy of a few superficial acquirements is enough to place a
philosopher of the day on the pedestal of his fancied elevation, and to vest
him with an assumed lordship over the whole domain of natural and revealed
knowledge; we cannot forbear to do honour to the unpretending greatness of
Newton, than whom we know not if there ever lighted on the face of our world,
one in the character of whose admirable genius so much force and so much
humility were more attractively blended.
I now propose to carry you
forward, by a few simple illustrations, to the argument of this day. All the
sublime truths of the modern astronomy lie within the field of actual
observation, and have the firm evidence to rest upon of all that information
which is conveyed to us by the avenue of the senses. Sir Isaac Newton never
went beyond this field, without a reverential impression upon his mind, of the
precariousness of the ground on which he was standing. On this ground he never
ventured a positive affirmation but, resigning the lofty tone of demonstration,
and putting on the modesty of conscious ignorance, he brought forward all he
had to say in the humble form of a doubt, or a conjecture, or a question.
But what he had not confidence to do, other philosophers have done
after him - and they have winged their audacious way into forbidden regions -
and they have crossed that circle by which the field of observation is enclosed
- and there have they debated and dogmatized with all the pride of a most
intolerant assurance.
Now, though the case be imaginary, let us
conceive, for the sake of illustration, that one of these philosophers made so
extravagant a departure from the sobriety of experimental science, as to pass
on from the astronomy of the different planets, and to attempt the natural
history of their animal and vegetable kingdoms. He might get hold of some vague
and general analogies, to throw an air of plausibility around his speculation.
He might pass from the botany of the different regions of the globe that we
inhabit, and make his loose and confident apphication to each of the other
planets, according to its distance from the sun, and the inclination of its
axis to the plane of its annual revolution; and out of some such slender
materials, he may work up an amusing philosophical romance, full of ingenuity,
and having, withal, the colour of truth and of consistency spread over it.
I can conceive how a superficial public might be genuine disciples of this
enlightened school cast all their confidence and all their intrepidity away
from them. Keep them on the firm ground of experiment, and none more bold and
more decisive in their announcements of all that they have evidence for - but,
off this ground, none more humble, or more cautious of any thing like positive
announcements, than they. They choose neither to know, nor to believe, nor to
assert, where evidence is wanting, and they will sit, with all the patience of
a scholar to his task, till they have found it. They are utter strangers to
that haughty confidence with which some philosophers of the day sport the
plausibilit.ies of unauthorized speculation, and by which, unmindful of the
limit that separates the region of sense from the region of conjecture, they
make their blind and their impetuous inroads into a province which does not
belong to them. There is no one object to which the exercised mind of a true
Newtonian disciple is more familiarized than this limit, and it serves as a
boundary by which he shapes, and bounds, and~ regulates all the enterprises of
his philosophy. All the space which lies within this limit, he cultivates to
the uttermost; and it is by such successive la - bours, that every year which
rolls over the world is witnessing some new contribution to experimental
science, and adding to the solidity and aggrandizemeat of this wonderful
fabric.
But, if true to their own principle, then, in reference to the
forbidden ground which lies without this limit, those very men, who, on the
field of warranted exertion, evinced all the hardihood and vigour of a full
grown understanding, show, on every subject where the light of evidence is,
withheld from them, all the modesty of children. They give us positive opinion
only when they have indisputable proof but, when they have no such proof, then
they have no such opinion. The single principle of their respect to truth,
secures their homage for every one position where the evidence of truth is
present, and, at the same time, begets an entire diffidence about every one
position from which this evidence is disjoined. And thus we may understand, how
the first man in the accomplishments of philosophy, which the world ever saw,
sat at the book of nature in the humble attitude of its interpreter and its
pupil how all the docility of conscious ignorance threw a sweet and softening
lustre around the radiance even of his most splendid discoveries: and, while
the flippancy of a few superficial acquirements is enough to place a
philosopher of the day on the pedestal of his fancied elevation, and to vest
him with an assumed lordship over the whole domain of natural and revealed
knowledge; we cannot forbear to do honour to the unpretending greatness of
Newton, than whom we know not if there ever lighted on the face of our world,
one in the character of whose admirable genius so much force and so much
humility were more attractively blended. I now propose to carry you forward, by
a few simple illustrations, to the argument of this day. All the sublime truths
of the modern astronomy lie within the field of actual observation, and have
the firm evidence to rest upon of all that information which is conveyed to us
by the avenue of the senses.
Sir Isaac Newton never went beyond this
field, without a reverential impression upon his mind, of the precariousness of
the ground on which he was standing. On this ground he never ventured a
positive affirmation but, resigning the lofty tone of demonstration, and
putting on the modesty of conscious ignorance, he brought forward all he had to
say in the humble form of a doubt, oracorijecture, or a question. But what he
had not confidence to do, other philosophers have done after him - and they
have winged their audacious way into forbidden regions - and they have crossed
that circle by which the field of observation is enclosed - and there have they
debated and dogmatized with all the pride of a most intolerant assurance. Now,
though the case be imaginary, let us conceive, for the sake of illustration,
that one of these philosophers made so extravagant a departure from the
sobriety of experimental science, as to pass on from the astronomy of the
different planets, and to attempt the natural history of their animal and
vegetable kingdoms. He might get hold of some vague and general analogies, to
throw an air of plausibility around his speculation. He might pass from the
botany of the different regions of the globe that we inhabit, and make his
loose and confident application to each of the other planets, according to its
distance from the sun, and the inclination of its axis to the plane of its
annual revolution; and out of some such slender materials, he may work up an
amusing philosophical romance, full of ingennity, and having, withal, the
colour of truth and of consistency spread over it. I can conceive how a
superficial public might be delighted by the eloquence of such a composition,
and even be impressed by its arguments; but were I asked, which is the man of
all the ages and countries in the world, who would have the least respect for
this treatise upon the plants which grow on the surface of Jupiter, I should be
at no loss to answer the question. I should say, that it would be he who had
computed the motions of Jupiter that it would be he who had measured the bulk
and the density of Jupiter that it would be he who had estimated the periods of
Jupiter - that it would be he whose observant eye and patiently calculating
mind, had traced the satellites of Jupiter through all the rounds of their mazy
circulation, and unravelled the intricacy of all their movements. He would see
at once that the subject lay at a hopeless distance beyond the field of
legitimate observation. It would be quite enough for him, that it was beyond
the range of his telescope. On this ground, and on this ground only, would he
reject it as one of the puniest imbecilities of childhood. As to any character
of truth or of importance, it would have no more effect on such a mind as that
of Newton, than any illusion of poetry; arid from the eminence of his
intellectual throne, would he cast a penetrating glance at the whole
speculation, and bid its gaudy insignificance away from him.
But let us
pass onward to another case, which, though as imaginary as the former, may
still serve the purpose of illustration. This same adventurous philosopher may
be conceived to shift his speculation from the plants of another world, to the
character of its inhabitants. Hie may avail himself of some slender
correspondencies between the heat of the sun and the moral temperament of the
people it shines upon. He may work up a theory, which carries on the front of
it some of the characters of plausibility; but surely it does not require the
philosophy of Newton to demonstrate the folly of such an enterprise. There is
not a man of plain understanding, who does not perceive that this ambitious
inquirer has got without his reach that he has stepped beyond the field of
experience, and is now expatiating on the field of imagination - that he has
ventured on a dark unknown, where the wisest of all philosophy is the
philosophy of silence, and a profession of ignorance is the best evidence of a
solid understanding - that if he think he knows any thing on such a subject as
this, "he knoweth nothing yet as he ought to know." He knows not what
Newton knew, and what he kept a steady eye upon throughout the whole march of
his sublime investigations. He knows not the limit of his own faculties. He has
overleaped the barrier which hems in all the possibilities of human attainment.
He has wantonly flung himself off from the safe and firm field of observation,
and got on that undiscoverable ground, where, by every step he takes, he widens
his distance from the true philosophy, and by every affirmation he utters, he
rebels against the authority of all its maxims.
I can conceive it to be
your feeling, that I have hitherto indulged in a vain expense of argument, and
it is most natural for you to put the question, What is the precise point
of convergence to which I am directing all the light of this abundant and
seemingly superfluous illustration?
In the astronomical objection which
Infidelity has proposed against the truth! of the Christian revelation, there
is first an assertion, and then an argument. The assertion is, that
Christianity is set up for the exclusive benefit of our minute and solitary
world. The argument is, that God would not lavish such a quantity of attention
on so insignificant a field. Even though the assertion were admitted, I should
have a quarrel with the argument. But the futility of the objection is not laid
open in all its extent, unless we expose the utter want of all essential
evidence even for the truth of the assertion. How do infidels know that
Christianity is set up for the single benefit of this earth and its
inhabitants? How are they able to tell us, that if you go to other planets, the
person and the religion of Jesus are there unknown to them? We challenge them
to the proof of this announcement. We see in this objection the same rash and
gratuitous procedure, which was so apparent in the two cases that we have
already advanced for the purpose of illustration. We see in it the same glaring
transgression on the spirit and the maxims of that very philosophy which they
profess to idolize. They have made their argument against us, out of an
assertion which has positively no ascertained fact to rest upon an assertion
which they have no means whatever of verifying an assertion, the truth or the
falsehood of which can only be gathered out of some supernatural message, for
it lies completely beyond the range of human observation.
It is
willingly admitted, that by an attempt at the botany of other worlds, the true
method of philosophizing is trampled on; for this is a subject that lies beyond
the range of actual observation, and every performance upon it must be made up
of assertions without proofs. It is also willingly admitted, that an attempt at
the civil and political history of their people, would be an equally
extravagant departure from the spirit of the true philosophy; for this also
lies beyond the field of actual observation; and all that could possibly be
mustered up on such a subject as this, would still be assertions without
proofs. Now, the theology of these planets is, in every way, as inaccessible a
subject as their politics or their natural history and therefore it is, that
the objection, grounded on the confident assumption of those infidel
astronomers, who assert Christianity to be the religion of this one world, or
that the religion of these other worlds is not our very Christianity, can have
no influence on a mind that has derived its habits of thinking, from the pure
and rigorous school of Newton; for the whole of this assertion is just as
glaringly destitute of proof, as in the two former instances.
The man
who could embark in an enterprise so foolish and so fanciful, as to theorize on
the details of the botany of another world, or to theorize on the natural and
moral history of its people, is just making as outrageous a departure from all
sense, and all science, and all sobriety, when he presumes to speculate, or to
assert on the details or the methods of God's administration among its rational
and accountable inhabitants. He wings his fancy to as hazardous a region, and
vainly strives a penetrating vision through the mantle of as deep an obscurity.
All the elements of such a speculation are hidden from him. For any thing he
can tell, sin has found its way into these other worlds. For any thing he can
tell, their people have banished themselves from communion with God. For any
thing he can tell, many a visit has been made to each of them, on the subject
of our common Christianity, by commissioned messengers from the throne of the
Eternal. For any thing he can tell, the redemption proclaimed to us is not one
solitary instance, or not the whole of that redemption which is by the Son of
God - but only our part in a plan of mercy, equal in magnificence to all that
astronomy has brought within the range of human contemplation. For any thing he
can tell, the moral pestilence, which walks abroad over the face of our world,
may have spread its desolations over all the planets of all the systems which
the telescope has made known to us. For any thing he can tell, some mighty
redemption has been devised in heaven, to meet this disaster in the whole
extent and malignity of its visitations. For any thing he can tell, the
wonder-working God, who has strewed the field of immensity with so many worlds,
and spread the shelter of His omnipotence over them, may have sent a message of
love to each, and re-assured the hearts of its despairing people by some
overpowering manifestation of tenderness. For any thing he can tell, angels
from paradise may have sped to every planet their delegated way, and sung, from
each azure canopy, a joyful annunciation, and said, " Peace be to this
residence, and good-will to all its families, and glory to Him in the highest,
who, from the eminency of his throne, has issued an act of grace so
magnificent, as to carry the tidings of life and of acceptance to the
unnumbered orbs of a sinful creation." For any thing he can tell, the Eternal
Son, of whom it is said, that by Him the worlds were created, may have had the
government of many sinful worlds laid upon His shoulders; and by the power of
His mysterious word, have awoke them all from that spiritual death, to which
they had sunk in lethargy as profound as the slumbers of non-existence. For any
thing he can tell, the one Spirit who moved on the face of the waters, and
whose presiding influence it was that hushed the wild war of nature's elements,
and made a beauteous system emerge out of its disjointed materials, may now be
working with the fragments of another chaos; and educing order, and obedience,
and harmony, out of the wrecks of a moral rebellion, which reaches through all
these spheres, and spreads disorder to the uttermost limits of our astronomy.
But here I stop nor shall I attempt to grope further my dark and
fatiguing way, among such sublime and mysterious secrecies. It is not I who am
offering to lift this curtain. It is not I who am pitching my adventurous
flight to the secret things which belong to God, away from the things that are
revealed, and which belong to us, and to our children. It is the champion of
that very Infidelity which I am now combating. It is he who props his
unchristian argument, by presumptions fetched out of those untravelled
obscurities which lie on the other side of a barrier that I pronounce to be
impassable. It is he who trangresses the limits which Newton forbore to enter;
because, with a justness which reigns throughout all his inquiries, he saw the
limit of his own understanding, nor would he venture himself beyond it. It is
he who has borrowed from the philosophy of this wondrous man a few dazzling
conceptions, which have only served to bewilder him while, an utter stranger to
the spirit of this philosophy, he has carried a daring and an ignorant
speculation far beyond the boundary of its prescribed and allowable
enterprises. It is he who has mustered against the truths of the Gospel,
resting as it does on evidence within the reach of his faculties, an objection,
for time truth of which he has no evidence whatever. It is he who puts away
from him a doctrine, for which he has the substantial and the familiar proof of
human testimony; and substitutes in its place, a doctrine, for which he can get
no other support than from a reverie of his own imagination! It is he who turns
aside from all that safe and certain argument, that is supplied by time history
of this world, of which he knows something; and who loses himself in the work
of theorizing about other worlds, of the moral and theological history of which
he positively knows nothing.
Upon him, and not upon us, lies the folly
of launching his impetuous way beyond the province of observation of letting
his fancy afloat among the unknown of distant and mysterious regions - and, by
an act of daring, as impious as it is unphilosophical, of trying to unwrap that
shroud, which, till drawn aside by the hand of a messenger from heaven, will
ever veil, from human eye, the purposes of the Eternal.
If you have
gone along with us in the preceding observations, you will perceive how they
are calculated to disarm of all its point, and of all its energy, that
flippancy of Voltaire; when, in the examples he gives of the dotage of the
human understanding, he tells us of Bacon having believed in witchcraft, and
Sir Isaac Newton having written a commentary on the Book of Revelation. The
former instance we shall not undertake to vindicate; but, in the latter
instance, we perceive what this brilliant and specious, but withal superficial
apostle of Infidelity, either did not see, or refused to acknowledge. We see in
this intellectual labour of our great philosopher, the working of the very same
principles which carried him through the profoundest and the most successful of
his investigations; and how he kept most sacredly and most consistently by
those very maxims, the authority of which, he, even in the full vigour and
manhood of his faculties, ever recognized. We see in the theology of Newton,
the very spirit and principle which gave all its stability, and all its
sureness, to the philosophy of Newton. We see the same tenacious adherence to
every one doctrine, that had such valid proof to uphold it, as could be
gathered from the field of human experience; and we see the same firm
resistance of every one argument, that had nothing to recommend it, but such
plausibilities as could easily be devised by the genius of man, when he
expatiated abroad on those fields of creation which the eye never witnessed,
and from which no messenger ever came to us with any credible information. Now,
it was on the former of these two principles that Newton clung so determinedly
to his Bible, as the record of an actual annunciation from God to the
inhabitants of this world. When he turned his attention to this book, he came
to it with a mind tutored to the philosophy of facts - and when he looked at
its credentials, he saw the stamp and the impress of this philosophy on every
one of them.
He saw the fact of Christ being a messenger from heaven,
in the audible language by which it was conveyed from heaven's canopy to human
ears. He saw the fact of his being an approved ambassadom of God, in those
miracles which carried their own resistless evidence along with them to human
eyes. He saw the truth of this whole history brought home to his own
conviction, by a sound and substantial vehicle of human testimony. He saw the
reality of that supernatural light, which inspired the prophecies he himself
illustrated, by such an agreement with the events of a various and distant
futurity as could be taken cognizance of by human observation. He saw the
wisdom of God pervading the whole substance of the written message, in such
manifold adaptations to the circumstances of man, and to the whole secrecy of
his thoughts, and his affections, and his spiritual wants, and his moral
sensibilities, as even in the mind of an ordinary and unlettered peasant, can
be attested by human consciousness. These formed the solid materials of the
basis on which our experimental philosopher stood; and there was nothing in the
whole compass of his own astronomy, to dazzle him away from it; and he was too
well aware of the limit between what he knew, and what he did not know, to be
seduced from the ground he had taken, by any of those brilliancies, which have
since led so many of his humbler successors into the track of infidelity. He
had measured the distances of these planets. He had calculated their periods.
He had estimated their figures, and their bulk, and their densities, and he had
subordinated the whole intricacy of their movements to the simple and sublime
agency of one commanding principle.
But he had too much of the ballast
of a substantial understanding about him, to be thrown afloat by all this
success among the plausibilities of wanton and unauthorized speculation. He
knew the boundary which hemmed him. He knew that he had not thrown one particle
of light on the moral or religious history of these planetary regions. He had
not ascertained what visits of communication they received from the God who
upholds them. But he knew that the fact of a real visit made to this planet,
had such evidence to rest upon, that it was not to be disposted by any aerial
imagination. And when I look at the steady and unmoved Christianity of this
wonderful man ; so far from seeing any symptom of dotage and imbecility, or any
forgetfulness of those principles on which the fabric of his philosophy is
reared; do I see, that in sitting down to the work of a Bible commentator, he
hath given us their most beautiful and most consistent exemplification.
I
did not anticipate such a length of time, and of illustration, in this stage of
my argument. But I will not regret it, if I have familiarized the minds of any
of my readers to the reigning principle of this Discourse. We are strongly
disposed to think, that it is a principle which might be made to apply to every
argument of every unbeliever - and so to serve not merely as an antidote
against the Infidelity of astronomers,. but to serve as an antidote against all
Infidelity. We are all aware of the diversity of complexion which Infidelity
puts on. It looks one thing in the man of science and of liberal
accomplishment. It looks another thing in the refined voluptuary. It looks
still another thing in the common-place railer against the artifices of
priestly domination. It looks another thing in the dark and unsettled spirit of
him, whose every reflection is tinctured with gall, and who casts his envious
and malignant scowl at all that stands associated with the established order of
society. It looks another thing in the prosperous man of business, who has
neither time nor patience for the details of the Christian evidence but who,
amid the hurry of his other occupations, has gathered as many of tile lighter
petulancies of the infidel writers, and caught from the perusal of them, as
contemptuous a tone towards the religion of the New Testament, as to set him at
large from all the decencies of religious observation, and to give him the
disdain of an elevated complacency over all the follies of what he counts a
vulgar su perstition.
And, lastly, for Infidelity has now got down
amongst us to the humblest walks of life; may it occasionally be seen louring
on the forehead of the resolute and hardy artificer, who can lift his menacing
voice against the priesthood, and, looking on the Bible as a jugglery of
theirs, can bid stout defiance to all its denunciations. Now, under all these
varieties, we think that there might be detected the one and universal
principle which we have attempted to expose. The something, whatever it is,
which has dispossessed all these people of their Christianity, exists in their
minds, in the shape of a position, which they hold to be true, but which, by no
legitimate evidence, they have ever realized - and a position, which lodges
within them as a wilful fancy or presumption of their own, but which could not
stand the touchstone of that wise and solid principle, in virtue of which the
followers of Newton give to observation the precedence over theory. It is a
principle altogether worthy of being laboured - as, if carried round in
faithful and consistent application amongst these numerous varieties, it is
able to break up all the existing Infidelity of the world
But there is
one other most important conclusion to which it carries us. It carries us, with
all the docility of children, to the Bible; and puts us down into the attitude
of an unreserved surrender of thought and understanding, to its authoritative
information. Without the testimony of an authentic messenger from Heaven, I
know nothing of Heaven's counsels. I never heard of any moral telescope that
can bring to my observation the doings or the deliberations which are taking
place in the sanctuary of the Eternal. I may put into the registers of my
belief, all that comes home to me through the senses of the outer man, or by
the consciousness of the inner man. But neither the one nor the other can tell
me of the purposes of God; can tell me of the transactions or the designs of
His sublime monarchy; can tell me of the goings forth of Him who is from
everlasting unto everlasting; can tell me of the march and the movements of
that great administration which embraces all worlds, and takes into its wide
and comprehensive survey the mighty roll of innumerable ages. It is true that
my fancy may break its impetuous way into this lofty and inaccessible field;
and, through the devices of my heart, which are many, the visions of an
ever-shifting theology may take their alternate sway over me; but the counsel
of the Lord, it shall stand.
And I repeat it, that if true to the
leading principle of that philosophy, which has poured such a flood of light
over the mysteries of nature, we shall dismiss every self.formed conception of
our own, and wait, in all the humility of conscious ignorance, till the Lord
himself shall break His silence, and make His counsel known, by an act of
communication. And now, that a professed communication is before me, and that
it has all the solidity of the experimental evidence on its side, and nothing
but the reveries of a daring speculation to oppose it, what is the consistent,
what is the rational, what is the philosophical use that should be made of this
document, but to set me down like a school- boy, to the work of turning its
pages, and conning its lessons, and submitting the every exercise of my
judgment to its information and its testimony?
We know that there is a
superficial philosophy, which casts the glare of a most seducing brilliancy
around it; and spurns the Bible, with all the doctrine, and all the piety of
the Bible, away from it; and has infused the spirit of Antichrist into many of
the literary establishments of the age; but it is not the solid, the profound,
the cautious spirit of that philosophy, which has done so much to ennoble the
modern period of our world; for the more that this spirit is cultivated and
understood, the more will it be found in alliance with that spirit, in virtue
of which all that exalteth itself against the knowledge of God is humbled, and
all lofty imaginations are cast down, and every thought of the heart is brought
into the captivity of the obedience of Christ.
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