Yet, if the laws of nature respecting heat are not entirely altered, other changes must follow; and we have seen, in a former lecture, that those changes are perfectly consistent with our ideas of heaven, and that they may, in fact, enhance the happiness of heaven. They may go on forever; in whichcase, we can hardly doubt but they would form a cycle, though how wide the circuit we cannot conjecture; or they may, at least, reach an unchanging state. I confess, however, that the idea of perpetual change corresponds best with the analogies of the existing universe; and in eternity, as well as in time, it may form an essential element of happiness.
In this world, too, this unceasing change, though it presents at first view a strong tendency to ruin, is, in fact, the grand conservative principle of material things. In a world of life and motion like ours, it is impossible that bodies, especially organic bodies, should not be sometimes subject to violent disarrangements and destruction from the mechanical agencies which exist; and were no chemical changes possible, ultimate and irremediable ruin must be the result. But the chemical powers, inherent in matter, soon bring forth new forms of beauty from the ruins; and, in fact, throughout all nature, the process of renovation usually counterbalances that of destruction; and thus far, indeed, the former has done more than this; for every time nature has changed her dress in past ages, she has put on more lovely robes, and a fresher countenance. Can we doubt that this same principle of change, operating, as it does, on a stupendous scale through the universe, is one of the great means of its preservation? It seems, indeed, paradoxical to say that instability is the basis of stability. But I see not why it is not literally true; and I can hardly doubt but this principle is superior to the laws of gravity—superior to every other law, in fact, for giving permanence and security to the universe.
It is true that, in the case of man, connected as diminution and decay are with the curse denounced on sin, they assume, in his view, a melancholy aspect; and the perishablenature of all created things has ever been viewed by the sentimentalist with sad emotions.
“What does not fade? The tower that long had stoodThe crush of thunder, and the warring winds,Shook by the slow but sure destroyer Time,Now hangs in doubtful ruins o’er its base;And flinty pyramids and walls of brassDescend; the Babylonian spires are sunk;Achaia, Rome, and Egypt moulder down.Time shakes the stable tyranny of thrones;And tottering empires rush by their own weight.This huge rotundity we tread grows old,And all those worlds that roll around the sun.The sun himself shall die, and ancient nightAgain involve the desolate abyss.”—Akenside.
If we turn now our thoughts away from man’s dissolution, and think how speedily chemical power will raise nature out of her grave, in renovated and increased beauty, this universal tendency to decay puts on the aspect of a glorious transformation. We connect the changes around us with those which have taken place in the great bodies of the universe; we see them all to be but parts of a far-reaching plan of the Deity, by which the stability of the world is maintained, and its progressive improvement secured. When we look forward, fancy kindles at the developments of divine power, wisdom, and benevolence which will in this manner be made in the round of eternal ages. We see that what our ignorance had mistaken for a defect in nature is, in fact, a great conservative principle of the universe, which Newton did not discover because geology had not yet unfolded her record.
Such are the developments of the divine character and plans unfolded to us by geology. Compare them now withthe views which have hitherto prevailed. The common opinion has been, and still, indeed, is, that about six thousand years ago this earth, and, in fact, the whole material universe, were spoken into existence in a moment of time; and that, in a few thousand more, they will, by a similar fiat, be swept from existence, and be no more. On the other hand, geology places the time when the matter of the universe was created out of nothing at an epoch indefinitely but immensely remote. Since that epoch, this matter has passed through a multitude of changes, and been the seat of numerous systems of organic life, unlike one another, yet all linked together into one great system by a most perfect unity; each minor system being most beautifully adapted to its place in the great chain, and yet each successive link becoming more and more perfect. Nor does geology admit that any evidence exists of the future annihilation of the material universe; but rather of other changes, by which new and brighter displays of divine wisdom and benevolence shall be brought out, it may be in endless succession. Geology is not, indeed, insensible to the displays of the divine character which are exhibited on the present theatre of the world. Indeed, she distinctly recognizes the act which is now passing as the most perfect of all. Yet this scene of the great drama she regards as only one of the units of a similar series of changes that have gone by or will hereafter come; the chain stretching so far into the eternity that is past and the eternity that is to come, that the extremities are lost to mortal vision.
Do any shrink back from these immense conclusions, because they so much surpass the views they have been accustomed to entertain respecting the beginning and the end of the material universe? But why should they be unwilling to have geology liberalize their minds as much in respect toduration as astronomy has done in respect to space? Perhaps it is a lingering fear that the geological views conflict with revelation. Such fears formerly kept back many from giving up their souls to the noble truths of astronomy. But they learnt, at length, that astronomy merely illustrates, and does not oppose, revelation. It showed men how to understand certain passages of sacred writ respecting the earth and heavenly bodies which they had before misinterpreted. Just so is it with geology. There is no collision between its statements and revelation. It only enables us more correctly to interpret some portions of the Bible; and then, when we have admitted the new interpretation, it brings a flood of light upon the plans and attributes of Jehovah. Geology, therefore, should be viewed, as it really is, the auxiliary both of natural and revealed religion. And when its religious relations are fully understood, theology, I doubt not, will be as anxious to cultivate its alliance as she has been fearful of it in days past.
“Shall it any longer be said,” remarks Dr. Buckland, “that a science which unfolds such abundant evidence of the being and attributes of God, can reasonably be viewed in any other light than as the efficient auxiliary and handmaid of religion? Some few there still may be whom timidity, or prejudice, or want of opportunity, allow not to examine its evidence; who are alarmed by the novelty, or surprised by the magnitude and extent, of the views which geology forces on their attention; and who would rather have kept closed the volume of witness which has been sealed up for ages beneath the surface of the earth than to impose on the student in natural theology the duty of studying its contents—a duty in which, for lack of experience, they may anticipate a hazardous or laborious task, but which, by those engaged in it, is found tobe a rational, and righteous, and delightful exercise of the highest faculties in multiplying the evidence of the existence, and attributes, and providence of God. The alarm, however, which was excited by the novelty of its first discoveries, has well nigh passed away; and those to whom it has been permitted to be the humble instruments of their promulgation, and who have steadily persevered, under the firm conviction that ‘truth can never be opposed to truth,’ and that the works of God, when rightly understood, and viewed in their true relations, and from a right position, would at length be found to be in perfect accordance with his word, are now receiving their high reward in finding difficulties vanish, objections gradually withdrawn, and in seeing the evidences of geology admitted into the list of witnesses to the truth of the great fundamental doctrines of theology.”—Bridgewater Treatise, vol. i. p. 593.
Such, then, in conclusion of the subject, is the religion of geology. It has been described as a region divided between the barren mountains of scepticism and the putrid fens and quagmires of infidelity and atheism; producing only a gloomy and a poisonous vegetation; covered with fogs, and swept over by pestilential blasts. But this report was made by those who saw it at a distance. We have found it to be a land abounding in rich landscapes, warmed by a bright sun, blest with a balmy atmosphere, covered by noble forests and sweet flowers, with fruits savory and healthful. We have ascended its lofty mountains, and there have we been greeted with prospects of surpassing loveliness and overwhelming sublimity. In short, nowhere in the whole world of science do we find regions where more of the Deity is seen in his works. To him whose heart is warmed by true piety, and whose mind has broken the narrow shell of prejudice, and can graspnoble thoughts, these are delightful fields through which to wander. More and more they must become the favorite haunts of such hearts and such minds. For there do views open upon the soul, respecting the character and plans of the Deity, as large and refreshing as those which astronomy presents. Nay, in their practical bearing, these views are far more important. Mechanical philosophy introduces an unbending and unvarying law between the Creator and his works; but geology unveils his providential hand, cutting asunder that law at intervals, and planting the seeds of a new economy upon a renovated world. We thus seem to be brought into near communion with the infinite mind. We are prepared to listen to his voice when it speaks in revelation. We recognize his guiding and sustaining agency at every step of our pilgrimage. And we await in confident hope and joyful anticipation those sublime manifestations of his character and plans, and those higher enjoyments which will greet the pure soul in the round of eternal ages.
SCIENTIFIC TRUTH, RIGHTLY UNDERSTOOD, IS RELIGIOUS TRUTH.
The connection between science and religion has ever been a subject of deep interest to enlightened and reflecting minds. Too often, however, up to the present time, has the theologian, on the one hand, looked with jealousy upon science, fearful that its influence was hurtful to the cause of true religion; while, on the other hand, the philosopher, in the pride of a sceptical spirit, has scorned an alliance between science and theology, and even fancied many a discrepancy. Both these opinions are erroneous; and disastrously have they operated, as well upon science as upon religion. The position which I take, and which I shall endeavor to maintain, is, thatscientific truth, rightly understood, is religious truth.
The proposition may be misunderstood at its first announcement, but I hope, ere its examination be finished, to satisfy you that it is true; and if so, that it ought to reconcile religion to science, and science to religion.
In arriving at correct conclusions concerning this statement, much will depend on the meaning which we attach to the phrasereligious truth. Religion is properly defined to be piety towards God. This piety implies two things: first, a correct knowledge of God; and secondly, the exercise of proper affections in view of that knowledge. The former constitutes the theoretic part of religion, and is investigatedsolely by the understanding. The latter constitutes the practical part of religion, and depends much upon the will, the heart, or the moral powers of man. All truth, therefore, which illustrates the divine character or government, or which tends to produce right affections towards God, is properly denominated religious truth. If, then, I can show that all scientific truth, rightly understood, has one or both of these effects, it will follow that it is strictly religious truth.
Scientific truth is but another name for the laws of nature. And a law of nature is merely the uniform mode in which the Deity operates in the created universe. It follows, then, that science is only a history of the divine operations in matter and mind.
In order to avoid mistake, we must make a distinction between the principles of science, and the application of those principles to the useful arts of life. The principles themselves are an illustration of the divine wisdom and benevolence, but their application to the arts illustrates the ingenuity and wisdom of man. At the most, therefore, the latter only indirectly and remotely exhibits the character of the Deity, while the former directly shows forth his perfections.
I now proceed to establish my general proposition, by showing, in the first place, thatall scientific truth is adapted to prove the existence or to illustrate the perfections of the Deity.
After all that has been written on the subject of natural theology, by such men as Newintyt, Ray, Derham, Wollaston, Clarke, Butler, Tucker, Paley, Chalmers, Crombie, Brown, Brougham, Harris, M’Cosh, and the authors of the Bridgewater Treatises, I need not surely go into details to prove that science in general is a great storehouse of facts to illustrate the divine perfections and government. It is, indeed, a vast repository, from which materials have beendrawn on which to build the argument for the divine existence and character. Efforts have been made, it is true, in modern times, to show that the whole argument from design is inconclusive. It is said, that though the operations of nature seem to show design and contrivance, they need no higher powers than those that exist in nature itself. They do not prove the existence of an independent personal agent, separate from the material world. Animals, and even plants, possess an inherent power of adapting themselves to circumstances; and may not a higher exercise of this same power explain all the operations of nature without any other Deity?
This argument appears to me to be utterly set aside by the following considerations: In the first place, there is no power inherent in vegetable or animal natures which can properly be called the power of contrivance and design, except so far as it exists in their minds. All other examples show merely the operation of impulse, or instinct, and will not at all explain that wide-reaching contrivance and design which cause all the operations of nature to conspire to certain great results, and to constitute one, and only one, great system. In the second place, the operations of intellect furnish us with the only examples in nature of that kind of contrivance and design which must have arranged and adapted the parts of the universe. But in the third place, no intellect, within our knowledge, is capacious enough to have contrived and arranged the universe. Indeed, to the capacity of that mind which could have done this we can assign no limits, and, therefore, infer it to be infinite. In other words, we infer the existence of the Deity. In the fourth place, the whole force of this argument rests upon the supposed uniformity of nature. For no one imagines that there exists at present, in nature, any power of contrivance and design sufficient to work a miracle; in otherwords, to introduce new races of animals and plants. “Could this uniformity once be broken up,” says an ingenious expositor of this atheistic argument, “could this rigid order be once infringed for a good and manifest reason, it would change the whole face of the argument. Could we see the sun stand still in heaven, that the wicked might be overthrown, then should we be assured of a personal power with a distinct will, whose agents and ministers these laws were. Such an event would be a miracle. But if such events have happened, they are not a part of nature; it is not nature that tells us of them, and it is only with her that we are at present concerned.”—President Hopkins, Quarterly Observer, Oct. 1833, p. 309.
Geology, however, does reveal to us miracles of stupendous, import, miracles of creation, which infinite power and wisdom alone could have produced. Hence, if the testimony of that science be admitted, this reasoning can no longer stand the test of examination, and it must be acknowledged that the argument for God’s existence from design, which has ever been so satisfactory to every mind not clouded by metaphysics, is left standing on an immovable foundation.
To return to the point from which we started: it is not necessary, I say, to go into a detailed examination of each particular science, and show how its principles prove and illustrate the being and attributes of the Deity, for the work has already been done more ably and thoroughly than I can do it, and admitted by all, save the few who reject the argument from design altogether. There are a few sciences, however, which have been hitherto chiefly passed by, because they were not supposed capable of throwing any light of consequence upon theology. Let us see whether these sciences are as barren of religious interest as has been supposed.
Geology is a branch of knowledge, which, a few years ago,would have been at once selected as not only destitute of any important religious applications, but as of a positively injurious tendency; and even now, such is the feeling probably of a majority of the religious world. True, it touches religion, natural and revealed, at many points; but so novel and startling are its conclusions, that they are thought to unsettle more minds than they confirm. They fall in with many of the views of scepticism, and especially confirm its doubts concerning the age of the world, and compel the religious man to give up long-cherished opinions upon this point, and on other collateral subjects. But we have gone into a careful examination of the religious applications of this science, and have we not found it most fertile in its illustrations both of natural and revealed religion? Let us just recapitulate the conclusions at which we have arrived.
In the first place, geology furnishes important illustrations of revealed religion. It confirms the statement that the present continents of our globe were once, and for an indefinite time, beneath the ocean, and that they were subsequently lifted above the waters by internal agencies. It agrees with revelation in making water and heat the two great agents of geological change upon and within the earth, and that the work of creation, after the production of matter, was progressive. It shows us equally with revelation, that the existing races of animals and plants on the globe were created at a comparatively recent epoch, and that man commenced his existence not more than six thousand years ago. It shows us, also, that the earth contains within itself the volcanic agency necessary for its future destruction by combustion, as described in the Bible.
But, perhaps, the most important illustration of revealed truth, which geology affords, is the light which it casts uponcertain passages of the Bible relating to the creation. As those texts which represent the earth as immovable, and the heavenly bodies as moving diurnally around it, were not rightly understood, until astronomy had discovered the true theory of the solar system, so those passages which relate to the period of the creation of the universe, the introduction of death into the world, and the extent and operation of the deluge, were misinterpreted till geology disclosed their true meaning. It is still customary, indeed, to speak of geology and revelation as in collision with each other on these subjects; but this is a false view of the case. Revelation is illustrated, not opposed, by geology. Who thinks, at this day, of any discrepancy between astronomy and revelation? And yet, two hundred years ago, the evidence of such discrepancy was far more striking than any which can now be offered to show geology at variance with the Scriptures. We ought, therefore, to look upon that science as illustrating, instead of opposing, the Scriptures.
Having once admitted the conclusions of geology as to the great age of the world, and a flood of light is shed upon some of the most difficult points both of natural and revealed religion. It shows the occurrence of numerous changes on the globe which nothing but the power of God could have produced, and which in fact were most striking and stupendous miracles. Hence the arguments which have so long been employed to show that the world is eternal are rendered nugatory; for if we can point to epochs when entire races of animals and plants began to exist on the globe, we prove the agency of a Deity quite as strikingly as if we could show the moment when the matter of the world was summoned into existence out of nothing. In the same manner, also, we silence the argument against the giving of a revelation fromheaven, as well as the miracles by which it is substantiated, on the ground that we have no example of a special interference with the established course of nature. Here we have interpositions long anterior to man’s existence, as well as by his creation, which take away all improbability from those which are implied in a revelation. We hence likewise establish the doctrine of a special providence over the world—a doctrine proved with great difficulty by any other reasoning of natural theology.
Still more abundant is the evidence derived from geology of the divine benevolence. And this evidence comes mostly from the operations and final effect of the most desolating agencies, heretofore regarded as a proof of malevolence, or, at least, of vindictive justice; and we may reasonably infer, that could we look through the whole system of divine government, we should find that all evil is only a necessary means of the greatest good.
No one can examine existing nature without being convinced that all its parts and operations belong to one great system. Geology makes other economies of wide extent to pass before us, opening a vista indefinitely backward into the hoary past; and it is gratifying to witness that same unity of design pervading all preceding periods of the world’s history, linking the whole into one mighty scheme, worthy its infinite Contriver.
How much, also, does this science enlarge our conceptions of the plans and operations of Jehovah! We had been accustomed to limit our views of the creative agency of God to the few thousand years of man’s existence, and to anticipate the destruction of the material universe in a few thousand years more. But geology makes the period of man’s existence on the globe only one short link of a chain of revolutionswhich preceded his existence, and which reaches forward immeasurably far into the future. We see the same matter in the hands of infinite wisdom, and by means of the great conservative principle of chemical change, passing through a multitude of stupendous revolutions, sustaining countless and varied forms of organic life, and presenting an almost illimitable panorama of the plans of an infinite God.
If such is the fruit which geology pours into the lap of religion, how misunderstood have been its principles! In many a mind there is still an anxious fear lest its discoveries should prove unfavorable to religion; and they would feel greatly relieved could they only be assured that no influence injurious to piety would emanate from that science. But we can give them far more than this assurance. We can draw from this science more to illustrate and confirm religion than from any other; and we believe that the history of the past justifies the general conclusion, that those sciences whose early developments excited most apprehensions of a collision with religion, have ultimately furnished the most abundant illustrations of its principles.
Another science regarded as barren of religious applications, and even as sometimes positively injurious, is mathematics. Its principles are, indeed, of so abstruse a nature, that it is not easy to frame out of them a religious argument that is capable of popular illustration. But, in fact, mathematical laws form the basis of nearly all the operations of nature. They constitute, as it were, the very framework of the material world. When we look up to the heavenly bodies, we see them directed and controlled, along with the earth, by those laws, which vary not, by an iota, from century to century. The infinity of changes, which are going on in the constitution of bodies upon and within the earth, chemistryreduces to mathematical laws. So far as organic operations depend upon chemical changes,—and this is very far,—mathematics is the controlling power. I will not say, that life and intellect are in a strict sense under the guidance of mathematics; and yet I doubt not that their operations are limited and controlled by its principles. Confident am I that atmospheric changes, apparently quite as anomalous and irregular as the movements of the vital and intellectual principles, rest on mathematics as certainly as do the revolutions of the heavenly bodies.
It seems, then, that this science forms the very foundation of all arguments for Theism, from the arrangements and operations of the material universe. We do, indeed, neglect the foundation, and point only to the superstructure, when we state these arguments. But suppose mathematical laws to be at once struck from existence, and what a hideous chaos would the universe present! What then would become of the marks of design and unity in nature, and of the Theist’s argument for the being of a God?
But mathematical principles furnish several interesting illustrations of truth, of no small importance. In a former lecture, we have seen how the doctrine of miracles stands forth completely vindicated by an appeal to mathematical laws; how, in fact, they might have formed a part of the original plan of the universe, when first it was conceived in the divine mind, and how their occurrence may be as much the result of a fixed law as the most common operations of nature; so that in this way all improbability of their occurrence, on the ground that nature is constant, is removed. These views are illustrated in that singular, yet original work of Professor Babbage, called the “Ninth Bridgewater Treatise,” a work written, it is true, in part, under the influence of exasperated feelings, but yet fullof original and ingenious suggestions. But these views have been so fully presented in the Lecture on Special and Miraculous Providence, and in that upon the Telegraphic System of the Universe, that they need not here be repeated.
Mathematics, also, aids our conceptions of truths of religion difficult or impossible, from their nature, of being understood by finite beings. All the attributes of the Deity, being infinite, are of this description. But it seems to me that the contemplation of a mathematical series, either increasing or decreasing, gives us the strongest apprehension of infinity which we can attain. It puts into our hands a thread by which we can find our way, as far as our powers will carry us, towards infinity. True, after we have followed the series till the mind stops exhausted, we are no nearer infinity than when we started; yet we do get most deeply impressed with the unfathomableness of the abyss that separates the finite from the infinite.
To many minds all statements of the biblical doctrine of the Trinity appear so absurd and contradictory as to be incapable of belief. Yet let it be stated to a man, for the first time, that two lines may approach each other forever without meeting, and it must appear equally absurd. But after you have demonstrated to him the properties of the hyperbola and its asymptote, the apparent absurdity vanishes. So, when the theologian has stated, that by the divine unity he means only a numerical unity,—in other words, that there is but one Supreme Being, and that the three persons of the Godhead are one in this sense, and three only in those respects not inconsistent with this unity,—every philosophical mind, whether it admits that the Scriptures teach this doctrine or not, must see that there is no absurdity or contradiction in it. And thus it may happen, that the solution of a man’s difficulties on thissubject may come from a proposition of conic sections, as in fact we know to have been the case.
It is said, however, that mathematicians have been unusually prone to scepticism concerning religious truth. If it be so, it probably originates from the absurd attempt to apply mathematical reasoning to moral subjects; or, rather, the devotees of this science often become so attached to its demonstrations, that they will not admit any evidence of a less certain character. They do not realize the total difference between moral and mathematical reasonings, and absurdly endeavor to stretch religion on the Procrustean bed of mathematics. No wonder they become sceptics. But the fault is in themselves, not in this science, whose natural tendencies, upon a pure and exalted mind, are favorable to religion, because its principles illustrate religion.
There are several other sciences, whose earlier developments were supposed for a time to be unfavorable to religion; and hence has originated a ground of apprehension respecting science generally. When the Copernican system of astronomy was introduced, it was thought impossible ever to reconcile it to the plain declarations of Scripture; and hence at least one venerable astronomer was obliged to recant that system upon his knees. Similar fears of collision between science and revelation were excited when chemistry announced that the main part of the earth has already been oxidized, and, therefore, could not hereafter be literally burnt. Because some physiologists have been materialists, it has been inferred that physiology was favorable to materialism. But it is now found that they were materialists in spite of physiology, rather than from a correct interpretation of its facts.
Strong apprehensions have also been excited respecting phrenology and mesmerism. And, indeed, in their presentaspect, these sciences are probably made to exert a more unfriendly influence upon vital religion than any other. Those who profess to understand and teach them have been, for the most part, decided opponents of special providence and special grace, and many of them materialists. But this is not because there are any special grounds for such opinions in phrenology or mesmerism. The latter branch, indeed, affords such decided proofs of immaterialism, as to have led several able materialists to change their views. Nor does phrenology afford any stronger proof that law governs the natural world, than do the other sciences. But when a man who is sceptical becomes deeply interested in any branch of knowledge, and fancies himself to be an oracle respecting it, he will torture its principles till they are made to give testimony in favor of his previous sceptical views, although, in fact, the tones are as unnatural as those of ventriloquism, and as deceptive. When true philosophy shall at length determine what are the genuine principles of phrenology and mesmerism, we can judge of their bearing upon religion; but the history of other sciences shows us that we need have no fears of any collision, when the whole subject is brought fairly into the daylight.
Upon the whole, every part of science, which has been supposed, by the fears of friends or malice of foes, to conflict with religion, has been found, at length, when fully understood, to be in perfect harmony with its principles, and even to illustrate them. It is high time, therefore, for the friends of religion to cease fearing any injury to the cause of religion from science; and high time, also, for the enemies of religion to cease expecting any such collision.
In conclusion of this argument, we may safely challenge any one to point out a single principle of science which doesnot in some way illustrate the perfections of the Deity; and if he cannot, scientific truth may be appropriately called religious truth, especially since such illustrations are the highest use to which science can be applied. It is no drawback on the argument because so few make this use of science, nor because some attempt to array science against religion; for this only shows how men may neglect the most important use to which science can be applied, or how they can pervert the richest gifts.
I derive a second argument in support of the general position, that scientific truth is religious truth, from the fact thatit will survive the present world, and its examination become a part of the employments and enjoyments of heaven.
The Scriptures are, indeed, sparing in their details of the specific employments of the heavenly world, except so far as worship and praise are concerned. But that worship will undoubtedly be the spontaneous impulse of the heart, (as it is in this world when acceptable,) in view of some manifestations of the divine character. Accordingly, the first sentence of the future song of Moses and the Lamb, as the saints stand with the harps of God upon the sea of glass, is,Great and marvellous are thy works, Lord God Almighty.The works of God, then, will be studied in the future world; and what is that but the study of the sciences? It is, indeed, said by the apostle, thatwhether there be tongues, they shall cease, [that is, in a future world;]whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away; and hence it has sometimes been inferred that all the knowledge which we acquire in this world will disappear with this world. But this cannot be the meaning of the passage, for in a variety of places the Bible represents both the righteous and wicked in another world as conscious of what took place on earth; and, unless the nature of the mind be changed atdeath, it is not possible to conceive that the knowledge we acquire here should be lost. This passage may refer to one of those gifts of inspiration peculiar to apostolic times, called by the sacred writerthe word of knowledge. But more probably he meant to teach that, so much brighter and clearer will be the disclosures of another world, that most of our present knowledge will be eclipsed and forgotten. But this does not imply that our future knowledge will be essentially different in nature from that which we acquire on earth. The grand difference is, that nowwe see through a glass darkly, but then face to face.
We can, also, see why some branches of science cultivated on earth should be very much modified in a future world. There are several, for instance, dependent mainly upon the present organic constitution of nature; and of such branches only the general principles can survive the destruction of the existing framework of animals and plants. Take, for an example, anatomy and physiology. We believe, indeed, that the new earth, wherein dwelleth righteousness, will be material, and that the bodies of men will also be material. But even though these bodies should be organized, we learn from the Scriptures that this organization will be very different from our present bodies.They, says Christ,who shall be accounted worthy to obtain that world, and the resurrection from the dead, neither marry nor are given in marriage, neither can they die any more; for they are equal unto the angels.Paul’s vivid description of the future spiritual body leaves the impression on the mind that it must be very dissimilar to our present bodies. He does not attempt to define the spiritual body, probably because we could not understand the definition, since it would be so unlike any thing on earth. He represents it as incorruptible, powerful, and glorious,entirely in contrast with our present bodies, and declares that it is not flesh and blood, and that it is not organized like our present bodies.
It seems, then, that we have no certain evidence that the future spiritual body will be organized; and in a former lecture we have seen that it is not necessary to suppose it endowed with organs. If not, it is obvious that the sciences of anatomy and physiology can have no existence in a future world, except in the memory. On the other hand, however, there are some things in Paul’s description of the future body that make it quite probable that its organization will be much more exquisite than any thing in existence on earth. He represents it as springing from our present bodies as a germ from a seed; and this would seem to imply organization; though we must not infer too much from a mere rhetorical similitude. But he also represents the spiritual body as far transcending the natural body in glory and in power; and, since the latter is fearfully and wonderfully made, we know of nothing but the most exquisite organization that can give the spiritual body such a superiority over the natural. Admitting that such will be its structure, and, although the nomenclature of anatomy and physiology, which is adapted to flesh and blood, shall pass away and be forgotten, yet analogous sciences shall be substituted, based on facts and principles far more interesting, and developing relations and harmonies far more beautiful. It may be thought, indeed, that, so different will be these sciences from any thing on earth, that there can be no common principles and no link of connection. But the longer a man studies the works of God, the more inclined will he be to regard the universe, material and immaterial, as founded on eternal principles; as, in fact, a transcript of the divine nature; and that all the changes innature are only new developments of unchanging fundamental laws, not the introduction of new laws. Hence the philosopher would infer that in existing nature we have the prototype of new heavens and a new earth; and although a future condition of things may be as different from the present as the plant is from the seed out of which it springs, still, as the seed contains the embryo of a future plant, so the future world may, as it were, lie coiled up in the present. If in these suggestions there is any truth, there may be a germ in the anatomy and physiology of the present world, which shall survive the destruction of the present economy, and unfold, in far higher beauty and glory, in the more congenial climate of the new heavens and the new earth. If so, the great principles of these sciences which are acquired on earth, and which are so prolific in exhibitions of divine skill, may not prove to be lost knowledge. They shall be recognized as types of those far higher and richer developments of organization which the spiritual body shall exhibit.
It may be still more difficult to show that such a science as botany will have a place in the new earth; simply because we have no certain knowledge of the existence of vegetation there. We can infer nothing on this subject from the figurative representations of the new Jerusalem in Revelation, since the drapery is all derived from this world. But, on the general principle already stated, that the universe constitutes but one vast and harmonious system, and all the economies upon it, past, present, and future, are only different developments of eternal principles, this consideration, I say, should make us hesitate before we infer the annihilation of the vast vegetable kingdom upon the destruction of the present economy of the world. And it does give us an aspect of extreme barrenness and cheerlessness to think of the new earth entirelyswept of every thing analogous to the existing foliage, flowers, and fruits. We have attempted to show, however, in another place, that the spiritual body may be of such a nature that it might exist in a temperature so high, or so low, as to prevent the existence of such organic natures as now exist. But how easy for the Deity to create such natures as are adapted to extremes of temperature as wide as we now are acquainted with; and that, too, on the same type as existing nature; so that the new earth, while yet an incandescent, glowing ocean, might teem with animals and plants, organized on the same general principles as those of the present earth! But there is another supposition. I have endeavored to show that change ever has been, and probably ever will be, one of the grand means by which mind is introduced to higher spheres of enjoyment; and even though the new earth at first should be destitute of organic natures, both animal and vegetable, they might be introduced in successive and more perfect economies, as a means of increased happiness, especially to rational natures. These are, indeed, only conjectures; but the balance of probabilities seems to me to incline the mind to the belief that there may be a botany as well as zoölogy in the future world, far transcending their prototypes on earth.
Among the things that we may be certain will pass away with the present world is the mode of communicating our ideas by language. This the apostle expressly declares when he says,Whether there be tongues, [that is, languages,]they shall cease.Now, the acquisition of languages, and the right use of language, or rhetoric and oratory, constitute a large part of what men call learning on earth. And the question is, whether there are any principles on which these branches of knowledge are based that will become the elements of newand higher modes of communicating thought in a future world. These branches are, indeed, rather to be regarded as arts than sciences. Language is the drapery for clothing our thoughts, and, unless we have thoughts to clothe, it becomes useless; and rhetoric and oratory merely show us how to arrange that drapery in the most attractive and impressive style. But there is such a thing as the philosophy of language and the philosophy of rhetoric, whose principles are derived chiefly from moral and intellectual philosophy. And these, we have reason to believe, are eternal. Different as will be the mode of communicating thoughts hereafter from the present, we shall find the same philosophical principles lying at its foundation. Hence we may expect that there will be a celestial language, a celestial rhetoric, and a celestial oratory, in whose beauty and splendor those of earth will be forgotten.
I now proceed briefly to consider those sciences which, having little connection with material organization, we may more confidently maintain will have an existence on the new earth.
It will be hardly necessary to spend much time in proving that intellectual philosophy will be one of the subjects of investigation in a future world. For it would be strange if the noblest part of God’s workmanship, for which materialism was created, should cease to be an object of inquiry in that world where alone it can be investigated with much success. When we consider that the whole train of mental phenomena is constantly passing under the mind’s own observation, and that a vast amount of time and talent has been devoted to the subject ever since man began to philosophize,—that is, for more than two thousand years,—it would seem as if psychology ere this must have attained the precision and certainty of mathematics. But how different is the fact! Ispeak not of a want of agreement in opinion on subordinate points, for these minor diversities must be expected in any science not strictly demonstrative. Even astronomy abounds with them. But metaphysical philosophers have not yet been able to settle fundamental principles. They are not yet agreed as to the existence of many of the most familiar and important intellectual powers and principles of action. The systems of Locke and Hume, constructed with great ability, were overthrown by Reid; Stewart differed much from Reid; and Dr. Thomas Brown has powerfully attacked the fabric erected by Stewart. And lastly, the phrenologists, with no mean ability, have endeavored to show that all these philosophers are heaven-wide of the truth, because they have so much neglected the influence of the material organs on the mental powers. Now, this diversity of result, arrived at by men of such profound abilities, shows that there are peculiar difficulties in the study of mind, originating, probably, in the fact that, in this world, we never see the operation of mind apart from a gross material organization. But in another state, where no organization will exist, or one far better adapted to mental operations, we may hope for such a clarification of the mental eye that the laws of mind will assume the precision and certainty of mathematics, and the relations between mind and matter, now so obscure, be fully developed. Then, I doubt not, the principles of mental science will furnish a more splendid illustration of the divine perfections than any which can now be derived from the material world.
Will any one believe that the principles of moral science and mathematics will be altered or annihilated by the conflagration of the globe? We believe them no more dependent upon the external universe than is the divine existence. God exists by a necessity of nature, and these principles have thesame unchanging and eternal origin. If so, no changes in the material world can affect them. So far as we understand them here, we shall find them true hereafter; and we shall doubtless find that our present knowledge is but the mere twilight of that bright day which will there pour its full light upon these subjects. Mathematical and moral truths, which we now suppose to be general laws, we shalt then find to be, in many cases, only the ramifications of principles far wider, which we cannot now discover, and which we could not comprehend were they open to inspection. And we shall also find that moral laws are as certain and demonstrable as those of mathematics; and that they form the adamantine chain which holds together the spiritual world, and gives it symmetry and beauty, as mathematics links together the material universe.
Among men who understand biblical interpretation, and also the principles of science, the belief in the annihilation of the material universe at the close of man’s probationary state is fast disappearing, and the more scriptural, philosophical, and animating doctrine is embraced, that there will be only a change of form and condition of our earth and its atmosphere, and that the matter of the universe will survive, and successively assume new and more beautiful forms, it may be eternally. If so, all those physical sciences, which do not depend upon organic structure, will form subjects of investigation in the heavenly world. There will be the heavenly bodies, governed by the same laws as at present, and offering a noble field for examination. Nor will the heavenly inhabitants need, as on earth, visual organs and optical instruments, which, at best, afford us only glimpses of the material universe. For there, if we rightly conjecture, will they possess the power of learning, with almost intuitive certainty andintuitive rapidity, the character and movements of the most distant worlds. Nay, it may be that they can pass from world to world with the velocity of light, and thus become better acquainted with their more intimate condition. Thus will the astronomy of the celestial world surpass, beyond conception, that science which even now is regarded as unequalled for its sublimity.
We cannot be sure through what material medium the mind will act in a future world. But the manner in which we know heat, light, and electricity to be transmitted, makes it not impossible that the same or a similar medium may be the vehicle through which thought shall be hereafter transmitted. If so, we can easily understand how the mind will be able to penetrate into the most recondite nature of bodies, and learn the mode in which they act upon one another; for the curious medium which conveys light and heat does penetrate all bodies, whether they be solid or gaseous, cold or hot. Hence we may learn at a glance, in a future world, more of the internal constitution of bodies, and of their mutual action, than a whole life on earth, spent in the study of chemistry, will unfold. Then, too, shall we doubtless find chemical laws operating on a scale of grandeur and extent, limited only by the material universe.
Universally diffused as light, heat, and electricity are, and diligently as their phenomena have been studied, yet what mystery hangs over their nature and operations! They seem to be too subtile, and to approximate too nearly to immaterial substances, to be apprehended by our beclouded intellects. When, therefore, our means of perception shall be vastly improved, as we have reason to believe they will be in eternity, these will become noble themes for examination. For who can doubt that agents so ethereal in their nature, andapparently indestructible, and even unchanged by any means with which we are acquainted, will survive the final catastrophe of our world? Probably, indeed, we are allowed to catch only glimpses of their nature and operations on earth, so that we may safely anticipate an immense expansion of the electricity and optics which will form a part of the science of heaven.
We have endeavored to show, in a former lecture, that the future residence of the righteous will be material; that it will, in fact, be the present earth, purified by the fires of the last day, and rising from the final ruin in renovated splendor. We have shown that this is the doctrine of Scripture, of philosophy, and of a majority of the Christian church. A solid world, then, will exist, whose geology can be studied by glorified minds far more accurately and successfully than the globe which we inhabit; for those minds will doubtless be able to penetrate the entire mass of the globe, and learn its whole structure. The final conflagration may, indeed, for the most part, obliterate the traces of present and past organic beings. But according to the doctrine of action and reaction in mechanics, in chemistry, in electricity, and in organization, every change that has ever passed over the earth has left traces of its occurrence which can never be blotted out; and it is not improbable that glorified minds will possess the power of discovering and reading these records of the past, if not on the principle just specified, yet in some other way; so that the entire geological history of our planet will probably pass in clear light before them. Points which we see only through a glass darkly will then stand forth in full daylight; and from the glimpses we are able to obtain in this world of its present geological changes, what a mighty and interesting series will be seen by celestial minds! If, even by the colored rays which come upon us through the twilight of this world, we areable to see so many striking illustrations of the divine character engraven on the solid rocks, what a noble volume of religious truth shall be found written there, when the light of heaven shall penetrate the earth’s deep foundations! Those foundations, figuratively described in revelation as so many precious stones, bearing up a city of pure gold, clear as glass, will then reflect a richer light than the costliest literal gems which the rocks now yield. The geology of heaven will be resplendent with divine glory.
We see, then, with a few probable exceptions, resulting from a difference between the organism of heaven and earth, that science will survive the ruin of this world, and in a nobler form engage the minds, and interest the hearts, of heaven’s inhabitants. It will, indeed, form a vast storehouse, whence pious minds can draw fuel to kindle into a purer and brighter flame their love and their devotion; for thence will they derive new and higher developments of the divine character. Shall we not, then, admit that to be religious truth on earth which in heaven will form the food of perfectly holy minds?
The position which I laid down, at the outset, that scientific truth, rightly applied, is religious truth, seems to me most clearly established. If admitted, there flow from it several inferences of no small interest, which I am constrained to present to your consideration.
In the first place, I infer from this discussion that the principles of science are a transcript of the Divine Character.
I mean by this, that the laws of nature, which are synonymous with the principles of science, are not the result of any arbitrary and special enactment on the part of the Deity, but flow naturally from his perfections; so that, in fact, the varied principles of science are but so many expressions of the perfections of Jehovah. If the universe had only a transientexistence, we might suppose the laws that govern it to be the result of a special ordination of the Deity, and destined to perish with the annihilation of matter. But since we have no evidence that matter will ever perish, and at least probable evidence that it will exist forever, the more rational supposition is, that its laws result from the nature of things, and are only a development of so many features of the divine character. If so, then the most important inquiry in the study of the sciences is to learn from them the phases in which they present the divine perfections.
In the second place, it does not follow from this subject that the most extensive acquisitions in science necessarily imply the possession of true piety.
Piety consists in the exercise of right affections of heart towards God, excited by religious truth. Now, I have attempted to show only, that the natural tendency of scientific truth is to excite such religious affections; but that tendency, like all other good influences, may be, and often is, resisted. Hence a man may reach the loftiest pinnacle of scientific glory whose heart has never heaved with one religious emotion. He may penetrate to the very holy of holies in nature’s temple, and yet retain his atheism, in spite of the hallowed influences that surround him. Nothing is plainer in theory, and, alas! nothing has been more surely confirmed by experience, than that the possession of science is not the possession of religion.
In the third place, what a perversion of science it is to employ it against religion!
Rightly understood, and fairly interpreted, there is not a single scientific truth that does not harmoniously accord with revealed as well as natural religion; and yet, by superficial minds, almost every one of these principles has, at one timeor another, been regarded as in collision with religion, and especially with revelation. One after another have these apparent discrepancies melted away before the clearer light of further examination. And yet, up to the present day, not a few, closing their eyes against the lessons of experience, still fancy that the responses of science are not in unison with those from revelation. But this is a sentiment which finds no place with the profound and unprejudiced philosopher; for he has seen too much of the harmony between the works and the word of God to doubt the identity of their origin. He knows it to be a sad perversion of scientific truth to use it for the discredit of religion. He knows that the inspiration of the Almighty breathed the same spirit into science as into religion; and if they utter discordant tones, it must be because one or the other has been forced to speak in an unnatural dialect.
In the fourth place, how entirely have the natural tendencies of science been misunderstood, when they have been represented as leading to religious scepticism!
I do not deny the fact that many scientific men have been sceptical. But I maintain that this has been in spite of science, rather than the result of its natural tendency; for we have shown that tendency in all cases to be favorable to piety. Other more powerful causes, therefore, must have operated to counteract the natural influence of scientific truth in those cases where men eminent for science have spurned away from them the authority of religion. Among these causes, the pride of knowledge is one of the most powerful; and before the mind has attained to very profound views of science, this pride does often exert a most disastrous influence upon a man’s religious feelings.
He is looked up to as an oracle on other subjects, and whyshould he not be equally wise concerning religion? It is natural for him to feel desirous, in such circumstances, of rising above all vulgar and superstitious views, and of convincing his fellow-men that he has made as great discoveries in religion as in science. He, therefore, calls in question the prevailing religious opinions. Having once taken his stand against the truth, pride does not allow him to recede, and he endeavors to convert scientific truth into weapons against religion. And this perversion produces the impression, with those not familiar with its natural tendency, that science fosters scepticism.
Another cause of this scepticism is a superficial acquaintance with the religious bearings of scientific truth. It is one thing to master the principles of science in an abstract form, and quite a different thing to understand their religious bearings. Moral reasoning is so different from physical and mathematical, that often a mind which is a prodigy for the latter, is a mere Lilliput in the former. And yet that mind may fancy itself as profound in the one as in the other, and may, therefore, be as tenacious of its errors in religion as of its demonstrated verities in science.
In the following extract it will be seen that Dr. Chalmers imputes the religious scepticism connected with science chiefly to a superficial acquaintance with science. His remarks may seem unreasonably severe and sweeping; nevertheless, they deserve consideration. And they accord with the idea of Lord Bacon, who says, “A smattering of philosophy leads to atheism; whereas a thorough acquaintance with it brings him back again to religion.” “We have heard,” Dr. Chalmers remarks, “that the study of natural science disposes to infidelity. But we feel persuaded that this is a danger associated only with a slight and partial, never with adeep, and adequate, and comprehensive, view of its principles. It is very possible that the conjunction between science and scepticism may at present be more frequently realized than in former days; but this is only because, in spite of all that is alleged about this our more enlightened day and more enlightened public, our science is neither so deeply founded, nor of such firm and thorough staple, as it was wont to be. We have lost in depth what we have gained in diffusion; having neither the massive erudition, nor the gigantic scholarship, nor the profound and well-laid philosophy of a period that has now gone by; and it is to this that Infidelity stands indebted for her triumphs among the scoffers and superficialists of a half-learned generation.”—Chalmers’s Works, vol. vii. p. 262.
Briefly, but nobly, has Sir John Herschel vindicated science from the charge of sceptical tendencies. “Nothing can be more unfounded than the objection which has been takenin limineby persons, well meaning, perhaps, certainly of narrow minds, against the study of natural philosophy, and, indeed, against all science, that it fosters in its cultivators an undue and overweening self-conceit, leads them to doubt the immortality of the soul, and to scoff at revealed religion. Its natural effect, we may confidently assert, on every well-constituted mind, is and must be the direct contrary. No doubt the testimony of natural reason, on whatever exercised, must, of course, stop short of those truths which it is the object of revelation to make known; but while it places the existence and principal attributes of a Deity on such grounds as to render doubt absurd, and atheism ridiculous, it unquestionably opposes no natural or necessary obstacle to further progress; on the contrary, by cherishing as a vital principle an unbounded spirit of inquiry and ardency of expectation, itunfetters the mind from prejudices of every kind, and leaves it open to every impression of a higher nature, which it is susceptible of receiving; guarding only against enthusiasm and self-deception by a habit of strict investigation, but encouraging, rather than suppressing, every thing that can offer a prospect or hope beyond the present obscure and unsatisfactory state. The character of the true philosopher is to hope all things not impossible, and to believe all things not unreasonable.”—Diss. on Study of Nat. Phil.
In speaking of geology and revelation, Sir John says, “There cannot be two truths in contradiction to one another, and a man must have a mind fitted neither for scientific nor for religious truth, whose religion can be disturbed by geology, or whose geology can be distorted from its character of an inductive science by a determination to accommodate its results to preconceived interpretations of the Mosaic cosmogony.”—Dr. J. P. Smith’s Lectures, p. viii. 4th edition.
“We have often mourned,” says M’Cosh, “over the attempts made to set the works of God against the word of God, and thereby excite, propagate, and perpetuate jealousies fitted to separate parties that ought to live in closest union. In particular, we have always regretted that endeavors should have been made to depreciate nature with a view of exalting revelation; it has always appeared to us to be nothing else than the degrading of one part of God’s works in the hope thereby of exalting and recommending another.” “Perilous as it is at all times for the friends of religion to set themselves against natural science, it is especially dangerous in an age like the present.
“It is no profane work that is engaged in by those who, in all humility, would endeavor to remove jealousies betweenparties whom God has joined together, and whom man is not at liberty to put asunder. We are not lowering the dignity of science when we command it to do what all the objects which it looks at and admires do—when we command it to worship God. Nor are we detracting from the honor which is due to religion when we press it to take science into its service, and accept the homage which it is able to pay. We are seeking to exalt both when we show how nature conducts man to the threshold of religion, and when from this point we bid him look abroad on the wide territories of nature. We would aid at the same time both religion and science, by removing those prejudices against sacred truth which nature has been employed to foster; and we would accomplish this not by casting aside and discarding nature, but by rightly interpreting it.
“Let not science and religion be reckoned as opposing citadels, frowning defiance upon each other, and their troops brandishing their armor in hostile attitude. They have too many common foes, if they would but think of it, in ignorance and prejudice, in passion and vice, under all their forms, to admit of their lawfully wasting their strength in a useless warfare with each other. Science has a foundation, and so has religion; let them unite their foundations, and the basis will be broader, and they will be two compartments of one great fabric reared to the glory of God. Let the one be the outer and the other the inner court. In the one, let all look, and admire, and adore; and in the other, let those who have faith kneel, and pray, and praise. Let the one be the sanctuary where human learning may present its richest incense as an offering to God, and the other the holiest of all, separated from it by a veil now rent in twain, and in which, on ablood-sprinkled mercy-seat, we pour out the love of a reconciled heart, and hear the oracles of the living God.”—Method of the Divine Government, p. 449,et seq.
In the fifth place, scientific men and religious men may learn from this subject to regard each other as engaged in a common cause.
If it be indeed true that scientific truth, rightly applied, is religious truth, then may the religious man be sure that every scientific discovery will ultimately contribute to the illustration of the character or government of the Deity; and therefore should he encourage and rejoice in all such investigations, and bid God speed to the votaries of science. Even though he cannot see how the new discovery will illustrate religion, and though, when imperfectly developed, it may seem to have an unfavorable aspect, he need not fear to confide in the general principle that science and religion are alike of divine origin, and must be in harmony. On the other hand, the votary of science should remember that the state of society most favorable to his pursuits is one in which religion exerts the strongest influence. It is for his interest, therefore, merely as a lover of science, and much more as a moral and accountable agent, to have pure religion prevail. Scientific and religious men should, therefore, look upon each other as co-laborers in a most noble cause—in illustrating the divine character and government. All jealousy and narrow-minded exclusiveness should be banished, and side by side should they labor in warm-hearted and generous sympathy. Alas! how different from this has been the history of the past! and, to a great extent, how different it is at present! “A study of the natural world,” says Professor Sedgwick, “teaches not the truths of revealed religion, nor do the truths of religion inform us of the inductions of physical science. Hence it is that men,whose studies are too much confined to one branch of knowledge, often learn to overrate themselves, and so become narrow minded. Bigotry is a besetting sin of our nature. Too often has it been the attendant of religious zeal; but it is perhaps the most bitter and unsparing when found among the irreligious. A philosopher, not understanding one atom of their spirit, will sometimes scoff at the labors of religious men; and one who calls himself religious will, perhaps, return a like harsh judgment, and thank God that he is not as the philosophers; forgetting, all the while, that man can ascend to no knowledge except by faculties given to him by his Creator’s hand, and that all natural knowledge is but a reflection of the will of God. In harsh judgments, such as these, there is not only much folly, but much sin. True wisdom consists in seeing how all the faculties of the mind and all parts of knowledge bear upon each other, so as to work together to a common end; ministering at once to the happiness of man and his Maker’s glory.”—Discourse on the Studies of the University, 5th edition, p. 105, appendix.
In the sixth place, the subject shows us what is the most important use to be derived from science.
It does not consist, as men have been supposing, in its application to the useful arts, whereby civilization, and human comfort and happiness are so greatly promoted; although men have thereby been raised from a state of barbarism and advanced to a high point on the scale of refinement. It is not the application of science as a means of enlarging and disciplining the mind; although this would be a noble result of scientific study. But it is its application for the illustration of religion. This, I say, is its most important use. For what higher or nobler purpose can any pursuit subserve than in developing the character, government, and will of thatinfinite Being, who is the sum and centre of all perfection and happiness? Other objects accomplished by science are important, and in the bustle of life they may seem to be its chief end. But in the calmness of mature years, when we begin to estimate things according to their real value, we shall see that the religious bearings of any pursuit far transcend in importance all its other relations; for all its other tendencies and uses are limited to this world, and will, therefore, be transient; but every thing which bears the stamp of religion is immortal, and every thing which concerns the Deity is infinite. It is true that but few who are engaged in scientific pursuits make much account of their bearings upon man’s highest interests; but very different will it be in heaven. There, so far as we know, all the applications of science to the useful arts will be unknown, and the great object of its cultivation will be to gain new and clearer views of the perfections and plans of Jehovah, and thus to awaken towards him a deeper reverence and a warmer love. And such should be the richest fruit of scientific researches on earth.
In the seventh place, the subject shows us that those who are the most eminent in science ought to be the most eminent in piety.
I am far from maintaining that science is a sufficient guide in religion. On the other hand, if left to itself, as I fully admit,—
“It leads to bewilder, and dazzles to blind.”
Nor do I maintain that scientific truth, even when properly appreciated, will compare at all, in its influence upon the human mind, with those peculiar and higher truths disclosed by revelation. All I contend for is, that scientific truth, illustrating as it does the divine character, plans, and government,ought to fan and feed the flame of true piety in the hearts of its cultivators. He, therefore, who knows the most of science ought most powerfully to feel this religious influence. He is not confined, like the great mass of men, to the outer court of nature’s magnificent temple, but he is admitted to the interior, and allowed to trace its long halls, aisles, and galleries, and gaze upon its lofty domes and arches; nay, as a priest he enters thepenetralia, the holy of holies, where sacred fire is always burning upon the altars, where hovers the glorious Schekinah, and where, from a full orchestra, the anthem of praise is ever ascending. Petrified, indeed, must be his heart, if it catches none of the inspiration of such a spot. He ought to go forth from it among his fellow-men with radiant glory on his face, like Moses from the holy mount. He who sees most of God in his works ought to show the stamp of divinity upon his character, and lead an eminently holy life.
Finally, the subject gives great interest and dignity to the study of science.
It is not strange that the religious man should sometimes find his ardor damped in the pursuit of some branches of knowledge, by the melancholy reflection that they can be of no use beyond this world, and will exist only as objects of memory in eternity. He may have devoted many a toilsome year to the details and manipulations of the arts; and, so far as this world is concerned, his labors have been eminently salutary and interesting. But all his labors and researches can be of no avail on the other side of the grave; and he cannot but feel sad that so much study and efforts should leave results no more permanent. Or he may have given his best days to loading his memory with those tongues which the Scriptures assure us shall cease; or to those details of material organization which can have no place or antitype inthe future world. Interesting, therefore, as such pursuits have been on earth, nay, indispensable as they are to the well being and progress of human society, it is melancholy to realize that they form a part of that knowledge which will vanish away.
The mind delights in the prospect of again turning its attention to those branches of knowledge which have engrossed and interested it on earth, and of doing this under circumstances far more favorable to their investigation. And such an anticipation he may reasonably indulge, who devotes himself on earth to any branch of knowledge not dependent on arrangements and organizations peculiar to this world. He may be confident that he is investigating those principles which will form a part of the science of heaven. Should he ever reach that pure world, he knows that the clogs which now weigh down his mind will drop off, and the clouds that obscure his vision will clear away, and that a brighter sun will pour its radiance upon his path. He is filling his mind with principles that are immortal. He is engaged in pursuits to which glorified and angelic minds are devoting their lofty powers. Other branches of knowledge, highly esteemed among men, shall pass away with the destruction of this world. The baseless hypotheses of science, falsely so called, whether moral, intellectual, or physical, and the airy phantoms of a light and fictitious literature, shall all pass into the limbo of forgetfulness. But the principles of true science, constituting, as they do, the pillars of the universe, shall bear up that universe forever. How many questions of deep interest, respecting his favorite science, must the philosopher in this world leave unanswered, how many points unsettled! But when he stands upon the vantage-ground of another world, all these points shall be seen in the bright transparencies of heaven. In this world, the votaries of science may becompared with the aborigines who dwell around some one of the principal sources of the River Amazon. They have been able, perhaps, to trace one or two, or it may be a dozen, of its tributaries, from their commencement in some mountain spring, and to follow them onwards as they enlarge by uniting, so as to bear along the frail canoes, in which, perhaps, they pass a few hundred miles towards the ocean. On the right and on the left, a multitude of other tributaries swell the stream which carries them onward, until it seems to them a mighty river. But they are ignorant of the hundred other tributaries which drain the vast eastern slope of the Andes, and sweep over the wide plains, till their united waters have formed the majestic Amazon. Of that river in its full glory, and especially of the immense ocean that lies beyond, the natives have no conception; unless, perhaps, some individual, more daring than the rest, has floated onward till his astonished eye could scarcely discern the shore on either hand, and before him he saw the illimitable Atlantic, whitened by the mariner’s sail and the crested waves; and he may have gone back to tell his unbelieving countrymen the marvellous story. Just so is it with men of science. They are able to trace with clearness a few rills of truth from the fountain head, and to follow them onward till they unite in a great principle, which at first men fancy is the chief law of the universe. But as they venture still farther onward, they find new tributary truths coming in on either side, to form a principle or law still more broad and comprehensive. Yet it is only a few gifted and adventurous minds that are able, from some advanced mountain top, to catch a glimpse of the entire stream of truth, formed by the harmonious union of all principles, and flowing on majestically into the boundless ocean of all knowledge, the Infinite Mind. But when the Christianphilosopher shall be permitted to resume the study of science in a future world, with powers of investigation enlarged and clarified, and all obstacles removed, he will be able to trace onward the various ramifications of truth, till they unite into higher and higher principles, and become one in that centre of centres, the Divine Mind. That is the Ocean from which all truth originally sprang, and to which it ultimately returns. To trace out the shores of that shoreless Sea, to measure its measureless extent, and to fathom its unfathomable depths, will be the noble and the joyous work of eternal ages. And yet eternal ages may pass by and see the work only begun.