^v OF pmcETo:^ BL 253 .C43 1845 ^ Chalmers, Thomas, 1780-1847 Discourses on the Christian revelation, viewed in .V'--» •> DISCOURSES ON THE CHRISTIAN REVELATION, VIEWED IS CONNECTION WITH THE MODERN ASTRONOMY. TO WHICH ULE JLDDKD, DISCOURSES U.LUSTRATIVE OF THE CONNECTION BETWEEN THEOLOGY AND GENERAL SCIENCE. THOMAS CHALJIERS, d.d.&ll.d. PROFESSOR OF THEOLOGY IX THE UNIVERSITY OF EDINBURGH, AND CORRESPONDING MEMBER OF THE ROYAL INSTITUTE OF FRANCS. NEW YORK: E O B E K T CARTER, 5 S C A N A L S T R E E T AND PITTSBURG, 58 MARKET STREET. 1S45. PREFACE. The astronomical objection against the truth of the Gospel, does not occupy a very prominent place in any of our Treatises of Infidelity. It is often, however, met with in conversation — and we have known it to be the cause of serious perplexity and alarm in minds anxious for the solid establishment of their religious faith. There is an imposing splendour in the science of Astronomy ; and it is not to be wondered at, if the light it throws, or appears to throw, over other tracks of speculation than those which are properly its own, should at times dazzle and mislead an inquirer. On this account, we think it were a service to what we deem a true and a righteous cause, could we succeed in dissipating this illusion, and in stripping Infidelity of those pretensions to enlargement, and to a certain air of philosophical greatness, by which it has often become so de- structively alluring to the young, and the ardent, and the ambitious. In my first Discourse, I have attempted a sketch of the Modern Astronomy — nor have I wished to throw any disguise over that comparative littleness which belongs to our planet, and which a PREFACE. gives to the argument of Freethinkers all its plausibility. This argument involves in it an assertion and an inference. The assertion is, that Christianity is a religion which professes to be designed for the single benefit of our world ; and the inference is, that God cannot be the author of this religion, for He would Xiot lavish on so insignificant a field, such peculiar and such distinguishing attentions, as are ascribed to Him in the Old and New Testament. Christianity makes no such profession. That it is designed for the single benefit of our world is altogether a presumption of the Infidel himself — and feeling that this is not the only example of temerity which can be charged on the enemies of our faith, I have allotted my second Discourse to the attempt of demonstrating the utter repugnance of such a spirit with the cautious and enlightened philosophy of modern times. In the course of this Sermon I have offered a tribute of acknowledgment to the theology of Sir Isaac Newton ; and in such terms, as if not farther explained, may be liable to misconstruction. The grand circumstance of applause in the character of this great man, is, that unseduced by all the mag- nificence of his own discoveries, he had a solidity of mind which could resist their fascination, and keep him in steady attachment to that Book, whose general evidences stamped upon it the impress of a real communication from Heaven. This was the sole attribute of his theology which I had in my eye when I presumed to eulogize it. I do not think, that, amid the distraction and the engross PREFACE. Tli ment of his other pursuits, he has at all times succeeded in his interpretation of the Book ; else he would never, in my apprehension, have abetted the leading doctrine of a sect or a system, which has now nearly dwindled away from public obser- vation. In my third Discourse I am silent as to the assertion, and attempt to combat the inference that is founded on it. I insist, that upon all the analogies of nature and of providence, we can lay no limit on the condescension of God, or on the multiphcity of his regards even to the very humblest departments of creation ; and that it is not for us, who see the evidences of divine wisdom and care spread in such exhaustless profusion around us, to say, that the Deity would not lavish all the wealth of His wondrous attributes on the salvation even of our solitary species. At this point of the argument, I trust that the intelligent reader may be enabled to perceive, in the adversaries of the Gospel, a twofold dereliction from the maxims of the Baconian philosophy : that, in the first instance, the assertion which forms the groundwork of their argument, is gratuitously fetched out of an unknown region, where they are utterly abandoned by the light of experience ; and that, in the second instance, the inference they urge from it is, in the face of manifold and unde- niable truths, all lying within the safe and accessible field of human observation. In my subsequent Discourses, I proceed to the informations of the Record. The Infidel objection drawn from Astronomy, may be considered as by fill PREFACE* this time disposed of ; and if we have succeeded in clearing it away, so as to deliver the Christian testimony from all discredit upon this ground, then may we submit, on the strength of other evidences, to be guided by its information. We shall thus learn, that Christianity has a far more extensive bearing on the other orders of creation, than the Infidel is disposed to allow ; and, whether he will own the authority of this information or not, he will at least be forced to admit, that the subject- matter of the Bible itself is not chargeable with that objection which he has attempted to fasten upon it. Thus, had my only object been the refutation of the Infidel argument, I might have spared the last Discourses of the Series altogether. But the tracks of Scriptural information to which they directed me, I considered as worthy of prosecution an their own account — and I do think, that much may be gathered from these less observed portions of the field of revelation, to cheer, and to elevate, and to guide the believer. But in the management of such a discussion as this, though for a great degree of this effect it would require to be conducted in a far higher style than I am able to sustain, the taste of the human mind may be regaled, and its understanding put into a state of the most agreeable exercise. Now, this is quite distinct from the conscience being made to feel the force of a personal application ; nor could I either bring this argument to its close in the pulpit, or offer it to the general notice of the world, without adverting, in the last Discourse, to a PREFACE. IX delusion, which, I fear, is carrying forward thou- sands, and tens of thousands, to an undone eternity. I have closed the Series with an Appendix of Scriptural Authorities. I found that I could not easily interweave them in the texture of the Work, and have, therefore, thought fit to present them in a separate form. I look for a twofold benefit from this exhibition — first, to those more general readers, who are ignorant of the Scriptures, and of the richness and variety which abound in them — and, secondly, to those narrow and intolerant professors, who take an alarm at the very sound and semblance of philosophy ; and feel as if there was an utterly irreconcilable antipathy between its lessons on the one hand, and the soundness and piety of the Bible on the other. It were well, I conceive, for our cause, that the latter could be- come a little more indulgent on this subject ; that they gave up a portion of those ancient and here- ditary prepossessions, which go so far to cramp and to enthral them; that they would suffer theology to take that wide range of argument and of illustration which belongs to her ; and that, less sensitively jealous of any desecration being brought upon the Sabbath or the pulpit, they would suffer her freely to announce all those truths, which either serve to protect Christianity from the contempt of science, or to protect the teachers of Christianity from those invasions, which are practised both on the sacredness of the office, and on the solitude of its devotional and intellectual labours. To these Astronomical Discourses, I have added some others, illustrative of the connexion between PREFA.CB; Theology and General Science. The argument on which we have ventured in one of these Discourses, and by which we attempt to reconcile the efficacy of prayer with the constancy of visible nature, was called forth in opposition to the con- temptuous treatment, which certain members of the British Senate thought fit to bestow on the proposal for a National Fast, at a time when the fearful epidemic of cholera had broke forth in various parts of the country. CONTENTS. DISCOURSE I. A SKETCH OF THE MODERN ASTRONOMY. <* When I consider thy heavens, the work of thy fingert, the moon and the stars, which thou hast ordained ; What is man, that thou art mindful of him? and the son of man, that thou visitest him ?" — Psalm viii. 3, 4. . . ,15 DISCOURSE II. THE MODESTY OF TRUE SCIENCE. ** And if any man think that he knoweth any thing, he knoweth nothing yet as he ought to know. " — 1 CoR. viiL 2. 42 DISCOURSE III. ON THE EXTENT OF THE DIVINE CONDESCENSION. ** Who is like unto the Lord our God, who dwelleth on high ? Who humbleth iiimself to behold the things that are in heaven, and in the earth !" — Psalm cxiii. 6, 6. • 68 DISCOURSE IV. OM THE KNOWLEDGE OF MAN's MORAL HISTORY IN THS DISTANT PLACES OF CREATION. «♦ Which things the angels desire to look into." — 1 Pet. i. 12. 90 DISCOURSE V. ON THE SYMFATHY THAT IS FELT FOR MAN IN THE DISTANT PLACES OF CREATION. " I say unto you. That likewise joy shall be in heaven over one sinner that repeateth, more than over ninety and nine just persons, which need no repentance." — LuK£ xv. 7» • 113 Xll CONTENTS. DISCOURSE VI. OK THE CONTEST FOR AN ASCENDANCY OVER MAN, AUOUfQWl THE HIGHER ORDERS OF INTELLIGENCE. •* And, having- spoiled principalities and powers, he made a show of them openly, triumphing over them in it." — Co- LOSSIANS ii. 15 S3 DISCOURSE VII. ON THE SLENDER INFLUENCE OF MERE TASTE AND SENSIBILITY IN MATTERS OF RELIGION. ** And, lo ! thou art unto them as a very lovely song of one that hath a pleasant voice, and can play well on an instru- ment: for tbey hear thy words, but they do them not.'* — EzEKiEL xxxiii. 32. .... .152 APPENDIX, 181 DISCOURSES or A KINDRED CHARACTER WITH THE PRECEDING. DISCOURSE I. THE CONSTANCY OF GOD IN HIS WORKS AN ARGUMENT FOR TH£ FAITHFULNESS OF GOD IN HIS WORD. •* For ever, O Lord, thy word is settled in heaven. Thy faith- fulness is unto all generations : thou hast established the earth, and it abideth. They continue this day according to thine ordinances: for all are thy servants." — Psalm cxix. 89, 90, 91. 203 DISCOURSE II. ON THE CONSISTENCY BETWEEN THE EFFICACY OF PRAYER— AND THE UNIFORMITY OF NATURE. *• Knowing this first, that there shall come in the last days scoffers, walking after their own lusts, — and saying, Where is the promise of his coming ? for since the fathers fell asleep, all things continue as they were from the beginning of the creation/'— 2 FBTta iii. 3, 4. . * . » 154 C0NTEN1S. XU DISCOURSE III. THE TRANSITORY NATURE OF VISIBLE THINGS. •* The things which are seen are temporal."— 2 Cor. iv. 18. 263 DISCOURSE IV. ON THE NEW HEAVENS AND THE NEW EARTH. " Nevertheless we, according to his promise, look for new heavens and a new earth, wherein dwelleth righteousness." 2 Peter iii. 13. . . .... 280 DISCOURSE V. the nature of the kingdom of god. " For the kingdom of God is not in word, but in power." — 1 Cor. iv. 20 300 DISCOURSE VI. heaven a character and not a locality. " He that is unjust, let him be unjust still : and he which is filthy, let him be filthy still : and he that is righteous, let him be righteous still : and he that is holy, let him be holy Btill."— Rev. xxii. 1 1 320 DISCOURSE VII. on the reasonableness of faith. « But before faith came, we were kept under the law, shut up unto the faith which should afterwards be revealed." — Oalatians iii. 23 ^^ 15 DISCOURSE I. A SKETCH OF THE MODERN ASTRONOMY. * Wlien I consider tby heavens, the work of thy fingers, the moon and the stars, which thou hast ordained; What is man, that thou art mindful of him? and the son of maOf that thou visitest him ?" — Psalm viii. 3, 4. In the reasonings of the Apostle Paul, we cannot fail to observe, how studiously he accommodates his arguments to the pursuits or principles or pre- judices of the people whom he was addressing. He often made a favourite opinion of their own the starting point of his explanation ; and, educing a dexterous but irresistible train of argument from some principle upon which each of the parties had a common understanding, it was his practice to force them out of all their opposition, by a weapon of their own choosing, — ^nor did he scruple to avail himself of a Jewish peculiarity, or a heathen su- perstition, or a quotation from Greek poetry, by which he might gain the attention of those whom he laboured to convince, and by the skilful application of which he might " shut them up unto the faith." Now, when Paul was thus addressing one class of an assembly, or congregation, another class might, for the time, have been shut out of all direct 16 SKETCH OF MODERN ASTRONOMY. benefit and application from his arguments. When he wrote an Epistle to a mixed assembly of Chris- tianized Jews and Gentiles, he had often to direct such a process of argument to the former, as the latter would neither require nor comprehend. Now, what should have been the conduct of the" Gentiles at the reading of that part of the Epistle which bore almost an exclusive reference to the Jews ? Should it be impatience at the hearing of something for which they had no relish or under- standing? Should it be a fretful disappointment, because every thing that was said, was not said for their edification ? Should it be angry discontent with the Apostle, because, leaving them in the dark, he had brought forward nothing for them, through the whole extent of so many successive chapters ? Some of them may have felt in this way ; but surely it would have been vastly more Christian to have sat with meek and unfeigned patience, and to have rejoiced that the great Apostle had undertaken the management of those obstinate prejudices, which kept back so many human beings from the participation of the Gospel. And should Paul have had reason to rejoice, that, by the success of his arguments, he had reconciled one or any number of Jews to Christianity, then it was the part of these Gentiles, though receiving no direct or per- sonal benefit from the arguments, to have blessed God, and rejoiced along with him. Conceive that Paul were at this moment alive, and zealously engaged in the work of pressing the Christian religion on the acceptance of the various classes of society. Should he not still have acted SKETCH OF MODERN ASTRONOMY. )7 on the principle of being' all things to all men? Should he not have acconimodated his discussion to the prevailing taste, and literature, and philosophy of the times? Should he not have closed with the ]jeople, whom he was addressing, on some favourite ])rinciple of their own; and, in the prosecution of this principle, might he not have got completely beyond the comprehension of a numerous class of zealous, humble, and devoted Christians? Now, the question is not, how these would conduct them- selves in such circumstances? but, how should they do it? Would it be right in them to sit with impatience, because the argument of the Apostle contained in it nothing in the way of comfort or edification to themselves ? Should not the bene- volence of the Gospel give a different direction to their feelings? And, instead of that narrow, exclusive, and monopolising spirit, which I fear is too characteristic of the more declared professors of the truth as it is in Jesus, ought they not to be patient, and to rejoice, when to philosophers, and to men of literary accomplishment, and to those who have the direction of the public taste among the upper walks of society, such arguments are addressed as may bring home to their acceptance also, " the words of this life ?" It is under the impulse of these considerations that I have, with some hesitation, prevailed upon myself to attempt an argument, which I think fitted to soften and subdue those prejudices which he at the bottom of what may be called the infidelity of natural science; if possible to bring over to the humility of the Gos- pel, those who expatiate with delight on the won- 18* SKETCH OF MODERN ASTRONOMY. ders and the sublimities of creation ; and to con- vince them, that a loftier wisdom still than that even of their high and honourable acquirements, is the wisdom of him who is resolved to know nothing but Jesus Christ and Him crucified. It is truly a most Christian exercise to extract a sentiment of piety from the works and the ap- pearances of nature. It has the authority of the Sacred Writers upon its side, and even our Saviour himself gives it the weight and the solemnity of his example. " Behold the lilies of the field; they toil not, neither do they spin, yet your heavenly Father careth for them." He expatiates on the beauty of a single flower, and draws from it the delightful argument of confidence in God. He gives us to see that taste may be combined with piety, and that the same heart may be occupied with all that is serious in the contemplations of religion, and be at the same time alive to the charms and the loveliness of nature. The Psalmist takes a still loftier flight. He leaves the world, and lifts his imagination to that mighty expanse which spreads above it and around it. He wings his way through space, and wanders in thought over its immeasurable regions. Instead of a dark and unpeopled solitude, he sees it crowded with splendour, and filled with the energy of the Divine presence. Creation rises in its immensity before him ; and the world, with all which it inherits, shrinks into littleness at a contemplation so vast and so overpowering. He wonders that he is not overlooked amid the grandeur and the variety which are on every side of him ; and passing upward from SKETCH OF MODERN ASTRONOMY. If9 the majesty of nature to the majesty of nature's Architect, he exclaims, "What is man, that thr»u art mindful of him ; or the son of man, that thou shouldest deign to visit him ?" It is not for us to say, whether inspiration re- vealed to the Psalmist the wonders of the modern astronomy. But even though the mind be a perfect stranger to the science of these enlightened times, the heavens present a great and an elevating spec- tacle — an immense concave reposing upon the circular boundary of the world, and the innumerable hghts which are suspended from on high, moving with solemn regularity along its surface. It seems to have been at night that the piety of the Psalmist was awakened by this contemplation, when the moon and the stars were visible, and not when the sun had risen in his strength, and thrown a splendour around him, which bore down and eclipsed all the lesser glories of the firmament. And there is much in the scenery of a nocturnal sky, to lift the soul to pious contemplation. That moon, and these stars, what are they ? They are detached from the world, and they lift us above it. We feel withdrawn from the earth, and rise in lofty abstraction from this little theatre of human passions and human anxieties. The mind abandons itself to reverie, and is transferred in the ecstasy of its thoughts, to distant and unexplored regions. It sees nature in the simplicity of her great elements, and it sees the God of nature invested with the high attributes of wisdom and majesty. But what can these lights be ? The curiosity of tl.e human mind is insatiable; and the mechanism of these wonderful heavens has, in all ages, been its 20 SKETCH OF MODERN ASTRONOMY. suoject and its employment. It has been reserved for these latter times, to resolve this great and mteresting question. The sublimest powers of philosophy have been called to the exercise, and astronomy may now be looked upon as the most certain and best established of the sciences. We all know that every visible object appears less in magnitude as it recedes from the eye. The lofty vessel, as it retires from the coast, shrinks into littleness, and at last appears in the form of a small speck on the verge of the horizon. The eagle, with its expanded wings, is a noble object ; but when it takes its flight into the upper regions of the air, it becomes less to the eye, and is seen like a dark spot upon the vault of heaven. The same is true of all magnitude. The heavenly bodies appear small to the eye of an inhabitant of this earth, only from the immensity of their distance. When we talk of hundreds of millions of miles, it is not to be listened to as incredible. For remem- ber that we are talking of those bodies which are scattered over the immensity of space, and that space knows no termination. The conception is great and difficult, but the truth is unquestionable. By a process of measurement which it is unne- cessary at present to explain, we have ascertained first the distance, and then the n.agnitude of some of those bodies which roll in t'lo firmament; that the sun which presents itself to the eye under so diminutive a form, is really a globe, exceeding, by many thousands of times, the dimensions of the earth which we inhabit ; that the moon itself has the magnitude of a world ; and that even a few n' SKETCH OF MODERN ASTRONOMY. 2! those stars, which appear like so many lucid points to the unassisted eye of the observer, expand into large circles upon the application of the telescope, and are some of them much larger than the ball which we tread upon, and to which we proudly apply the denomination of the universe. Now, what is the fair and obvious presumption ? The world in which we live, is a round ball of a determined magnitude, and occupies its own place in the firmament. But when we explore the unlimited tracts of that space, which is every where around us, we meet with other balls of equal or superior magnitude, and from which our earth would either be invisible, or appear as small as any of those twinkling stars which are seen on the canopy of heaven. Why then suppose that this little spot, little at least in the immensity which surrounds it, should be the exclusive abode of life and of intelligence ? What reason to think that those mightier globes which roll in other parts of creation, and which we have discovered to be worlds in magnitude, are not also worlds in use and in dignity ? Why should we think that the great Architect of nature, supreme in wisdom, as He is in power, would call these stately mansions into existence and leave them unoccupied ? When we cast our eye over the broad sea, and look at the country on the other side, we see nothing but the blue land stretching obscurely over the distant ho- rizon. We are too far away to perceive the richness of its scenery, or to hear the sound of its population Why not extend this principle to the still more distant parts of the universe ? What though, from 22 SKETCH OF MODERN ASTRONOMY. this remote point of observation, we can see nothing but the naked roundness of yon planetary orbs ? Are we therefore to say, that they are so many vast and unpeopled soUtudes ; that desolation reigns in every part of the universe but ours ; that the whole energy of the divine attributes is expended on one insignificant corner of these mighty works ; and that to this earth alone belongs the bloom of vegetation, or the blessedness of life, or the dignity of rational and immortal existence ? But this is not all. We have something more than the mere magnitude of the planets to allege in favour of the idea that they are inhabited. We know that this earth turns round upon itself; and we observe that all those celestial bodies, which are accessible to such an observation, have the same movement. We know that the earth performs a yearly revolution round the sun ; and we can detect, in all the planets which compose our system, a re- volution of the same kind, and under the same circumstances. They have the same succession of day and night. They have the same agreeable vicissitude of the seasons. To them light and darkness succeed each other; and the gaiety of summer is followed by the dreariness of winter. To each of them the heavens present as varied and magnificent a spectacle; and this earth, the encompassing of which would require the labour of years from one of its puny inhabitants, is but one of the lesser lights which sparkle in their firmament. To them, as well as to us, has God divided the light from the darkness, and he has called the light day, and the darkness he has called night. He has said. SKETCH OF MODERN ASTRONOMY. 23 let there be lights in the firmament of their heaven, to divide the day from the night ; and let them be for signs, and for seasons, and for days, and for years ; and let them be for lights in the firmament of heaven, to give hght upon their earth ; and it was so. And God has also made to them great lights. To all of them he has given the sun to rule the day ; and to many of them has he given moons to rule the night. To them he has made the stars also. And God has set them in the firmament of heaven, to give light upon their earth ; and to rule over the day, and over the night, and to divide the light from the darkness ; and God has seen that it was good. In all these greater arrangements of divine wisdom, we can see that God has done the same things for the accommodation of the planets that he has done for the earth which we inhabit. And shall we say, that the resemblance stops here, because we are not in a situation to observe it ? Shall we say, that this scene of magnificence has been called into being merely for the amusement of a few astronomers? Shall we measure the councils of heaven by the narrow impotence of the human faculties ? or conceive, that silence and solitude reign throughout the mighty empire of nature ; that the greater part of creation is an empty parade ; and that not a worshipper of the Divinity is to be found through the wide extent of yon vast and immeasurable regions ? It lends a delightful confirmation to the argu- ment, when, from the growing perfection of our instruments, we can discover a new point of 24 SKETCH OF MODERN ASTRONOMY. resemblance between our Earth and the other bo- dies of the planetary system. It is now ascertain- ed, not merely that all of them have their day and night, and that all of them have their vicissitudes of seasons, and that some of them have their moons to rule their night and alleviate the darkness of it ; — we can see of one, that its surface rises into in- equalities, that it swells into mountains and stretches into valleys ; of another, that it is surrounded by an atmosphere which may support the respiration of animals ; of a third, that clouds are formed and suspended over it, which may minister to it all the bloom and luxuriance of vegetation ; and of a fourth, that a white colour spreads over its northern regions, as its winter advances, and that, on the approach of summer, this whiteness is dissipated — giving room to suppose, that the element of water abounds in it, that it rises by evaporation into.dts atmosphere, that it freezes upon the application of cold, that it is precipitated in the form of snow, that it covers the ground with a fleecy mantle, which melts away from the heat of a more vertical sun ; and that other worlds bear a resemblance to our own, in the same yearly round of beneficent and interesting changes. Who shall assign a limit to the discoveries of future ages ? Who can prescribe to science her boundaries, or restrain the active and insatiable curiosity of man within the circle of his present acquirements? We may guess with plausibility what we cannot anticipate with confidence. The day may yet be coming, when our instruments of observation shall be inconceivably more powerful SKETCH OF MODERN ASTRONOMY. 25 They may ascertain still more decisive points of resemblance, I'hey may resolve the same ques- tion by the evidence of sense, which is now so abundantly convincing by the evidence of analogy. They may lay open to us the unquestionable ves- tiges of art, and industry, and intelligence. We may see summer throwing its green mantle over these mighty tracts, and we may see them left naked and colourless after the flush of vegetation has disappeared. In the progress of years or of centuries, we may trace the hand of cultivation spreading a new aspect over some portion of a planetary surface. Perhaps some large city, the metropolis of a mighty empire, may expand into a visible spot by the powers of some future telescope. Perhaps the glass of some observer, in a distant age, may enable him to construct the map of ano- ther world, and to lay down the surface of it in all its minute and topical varieties. But there is no end of conjecture ; and to the men of other times we leave the full assurance of what we can assert with the highest probability, that yon planetary orbs are so many worlds, that they teem with life, and that the mighty Being who presides in high authority over this scene of grandeur and astonish- ment, has there planted the worshippers of His glory. Did the discoveries of science stop here, we have enough to justify the exclamation of the Psal- mist, " What is man, that thou art mindful of him; or the son of man, that thou shouldest deign to visit him?" They widen the empire of creation far beyond the limits which were formerly assigned VOL. VII. B 26 SKETCH OF MODERN ASTRONOMY. to it. They give us to see that yon sun, throned in the centre of his planetary system, gives Ught, and warmth, and the vicissitude of seasons, to an extent of surface several hundreds of times greater than that of the earth which we inhabit. They lay open to us a number of worlds, rolling in their respective circles around this vast luminary — and prove, that the ball which we tread upon, with all its mighty burden of oceans and continents, instead of being distinguished from the others, is among the least of them; and, from some of the more distant planets, would not occupy a visible point in the concave of their firmament. They let us know, that though this mighty earth, with all its myriads of people, were to sink into annihilation, there are some worlds where an event so awful to us would be unnoticed and unknown, and others where it would be nothing more than the disappearance of a little star which had ceased from its twinkling. We should feel a sentiment of modesty at this just but humiliating representation. We should learn not to look on our earth as the universe of God, but one paltry and insignificant portion of it ; that it is only one of the many mansions which the Su- preme Being has created for the accommodation of His worshippers, and only one of the many worlds rolling in that flood of light which the sun pours around him to the outer limits of the plane- tary system. But is there nothing beyond these limits ? The planetary system has its boundary, but space has lione ; and if we wing our fancy there, do we only vravel through dark and unoccupied regions ? There SKETCH OF MODERN ASTRONOMY. 27 are only five, or at most six, of the planetary orbs visible to the naked eye. What, then, is that multitude of other lights which sparkle in our fir- mament, and fill the whole concave of heaven with innumerable splendours? The planets are all attached to the sun ; and, in circling around him, they do homage to that influence which binds them to perpetual attendance on this great luminary. But the other stars do not own his dominion. They do not circle around him. To all common observation, they remain immoveable ; and each., like the independent sovereign of his own territory, appears to occupy the same inflexible position in the regions of immensity. What can we make of them ? Shall we take our adventurous flight to explore these dark and untravelled dominions ? W^hat mean these innumerable fires lighted up in distant parts of the universe? Are they only made to shed a feeble glimmering over this little spot in the kingdom of nature ? or do they serve a purpose worthier of themselves, to light up other worlds, and give animation to other systems ? The first thing which strikes a scientific observ- er of the fixed stars, is their immeasurable distance. If the whole planetary system were lighted up into a globe of fire, it would exceed, by many millions of times, the magnitude of this world, and yet only appear a small lucid point from the nearest of them. If a body were projected from the sun with the velocity of a cannon-ball, it would take hundreds of thousands of years before it described that mighty interval which separates the nearest of the fixed stars from our sun and from our system. If 28 SKETCH OF MODERN ASTRONOMY. this earth, which moves at more than the incon- ceivable velocity of a million and a half miles a-day, were to be hurried from its orbit, and to take the same rapid flight over this immense tract, it would not have arrived at the termhiation of its journey, after taking all the time which has elapsed since the creation of the world, 'jliese are great num- bers, and great calculations; and the mind feels its own impotency in attempting to grasp them. We can state them in words. We can exhibit them in figures. We can demonstrate them by the powers of a most rigid and infallible geometry. But no human fancy can summon up a lively or an adequate conception — can roam in its ideal flight over this immeasurable largeness — can take in this mighty space in all its grandeur, and in all its im- mensity — can sweep the outer boundaries of such a creation — or lift itself up to the majesty of that great and invisible arm on which all is suspended. But what can those stars be which are seated so far beyond the limits of our planetary system ? They must be masses of immense magnitude, or they could not be seen at the distance of place which they occupy. The light which they give must proceed from themselves, for the feeble reflec- tion of light from some other quarter, would not carry through such mighty tracts to the eye of an observer. A body may be visible in two ways. It may be visible from its own light, as the flame of a candle, or the brightness of a fire, or the bril- liancy of yonder glorious sun, which lightens all below, and is the lamp of the w orld. Or it may be visible from the light which falls upon it, as the SKETCH OF MODERN ASTRONOMY. 29 body which receives its light from a taper — or the whole assemblage of objects on the surface of the earth, which appear only when the light of day rests upon them — or the moon, which, in that part of it that is towards the sun, gives out a sil- very whiteness to the eye of the observer, while the other part forms a black and invisible space in the firmament — or as the planets, which shine only because the sun shines upon them, and which, each of them, present the appearance of a dark spot on the side that is turned away from it. Now apply this question tc the fixed stars. Are they luminous of themselves, or do they derive their light from the sun, like the bodies of our planetary system? Think of their immense distance, and the solution of this question becomes evident. The sun, like any other body, must dwnidle into a less apparent magnitude as you retire from it. At the prodigious distance even of the very nearest of the rixed stars, it must have sln-unk into a small indi- visible point. In short, it must have become a star itself, and could shed no more light than a single individual of those glimmering myriads, the whole assemblage of which cannot dissipate and can scarcely alleviate the midnight darkness of our world. These stars are visible to us, not because the sun shines upon them, but because they shine of themselves, because they are so many luminous bodies scattered over the tracts of immensity — in a word, because they are so many suns, each throned in the centre of his own aominions, and pouring a flood of light over his own portion of these unlimitable regions. 30 SKETCH OF MODERN ASTRONOMY. At such an immense distance for observation, it is not to be supposed, that we can collect many points of resemblance between the fixed stars, and the solar star which forms the centre of our plane- tary system. There is one point of resemblance, however, which has not escaped the penetration of our astronomers. We know that our sun turns round upon himself, in a regular period of time. We also know that there are dark spots scattered over his surface, which, though invisible to the naked eye, are perfectly noticeable by our instruments. If these spots existed in greater quantity upon one side than upon another, it would have the general effect of making that side darker; and the revolution of the sun must, in such a case, give us a brighter and a fainter side, by regular alternations. Now, there are some of the fixed stars which present this appearance. They present us with periodical vari- ations of light. From the splendour of a star of the first or second magnitude, they fade away into some of the inferior magnitudes — and one, by becoming invisible, might give reason to apprehend that we had lost him altogether — but we can still recognize him by the telescope, till at length he reappears in his own place, and, after a regular lapse of so many days and hours, recovers his original bright- ness. Now, the fair inference from this is, that the fixed stars, as they resemble our sun in being so many luminous masses of immense magnitude, they resemble him in this also, that each of them turns round upon his own axis ; so that if any of them should have an inequality in the brightness of their sides, this revolution is rendered evident, SKETCH OF MODERN ASTRONOMY. 31 by the regular variations in the degree of light which it undergoes. Shall we say, then, of these vast luminaries, that they were created in vain ? Were they called into existence for no other purpose than to throw a tide of useless splendour over the solitudes of immensity ? Our sun is only one of these lumi- naries, and we know that he has worlds in his train. Why should we strip the rest of this princely at- tendance ? Why may not each of them be the centre of his own system, and give light to his own worlds ? It is true that we see them not ; but could the eye of man take its flight into those dis- tant regions, it would lose sight of our little world before it reached the outer limits of our system — the greater planets would disappear in their turn — before it had described a small portion of that abyss which separates us from the fixed stars, the sun would decline into a little spot, and all its splendid retinue of worlds be lost in the obscurity of distance — he would at last shrink into a small indivisible atom, and all that could be seen of this magnificent system, would be reduced to the glim- mering of a little star. Why resist any longer the grand and interesting conclusion ? Each of these stars may be the token of a system as vast and as splendid as the one which we inhabit. Worlds roll in these distant regions; and these worlds must be the mansions of life and of intelligence. In yon gilded canopy of heaven, we see the broad aspect of the universe, where each shining point presents us with a sun, and each sun with a system of worlds — where the Divinity reigns in all the 32 SKETCH OF MODERN ASTRONOMY. grandeur of His attributes — where He peoples im- mensity with His wonders ; and travels in the greatness of His strength through the dominions of one vast and unlimited monarchy. The contemplation has no limits. If we ask the number of suns and of systems, the unassisted eye of man can take in a thousand, and the best tele- scope which the genius of man has constructed can take in eighty milUons. But why subject the dominions of the universe to the eye of man, or to the powers of his genius ? Fancy may take its flight far beyond the ken of eye or of telescope. It may expatiate in the outer regions of all that is visible — and shall we have the boldness to say, that there is nothing there ? that the wonders of the Almighty are at an end, because we can no longer trace His footsteps ? that his omnipotence is exhausted, because human art can no longer follow Him ? that the creative energy of God has sunk into repose, because the imagination is en- feebled by the magnitude of its efforts, and can keep no longer on the wing through those mighty tracts, which shoot far beyond what eye hath seen, or the heart of man hath conceived — which sweep endlessly along, and merge into an awful and mys- terious infinity? Before bringing to a close this rapid and im- perfect sketch of our modern astronomy, it may be right to advert to two points of interesting specu- lation, both of which serve to magnify our concep- tions of the universe, and, of course, to give us a more affecting sense of the comparative insignifi- cance of this our world. The first is suggested SKETCH OF MODERN ASTRONOMY. 33 by the consideration, that if a body be struck in the direction of its centre, it obtains, from this im- pulse, a progressive motion, but without any move- ment of revolution being at the same time impress- ed upon it. It simply goes forward, but does not turn round upon itself. But, again, should the stroke not be in the direction of the centre- should the line which joins the point of percussion to the centre, make an angle with that line in which the impulse was communicated, then the body is both made to go forward in space, and also to wheel upon its axis. In this way, each of our planets may have had its compound motion com- municated to it by one single impulse ; and, on the other hand, if ever the rotatory motion be com- municated by one blow, then the progressive mo- tion must go along with it. In order to have the first motion without the second, there must be a two-fold force applied to the body in opposite di- rections. It must be set a-going in the same way as a spinning-top, so as to revolve about an axis, and to keep unchanged its situation in space. The planets have both motions ; and, therefore, may have received them by one and the same impulse. The sun, we are certain, has one of these motions. He has a movement of revolution. If spun round his axis by two opposite forces, one on each side of him, he may have this movement, and retain an inflexible position in space. But if this movement was given him by one stroke, he must have a pro- gressive motion along with a whirling motion ; or, in other words, he is moving forward ; he is de- scribing a tract in space ; and, in so doing, he car- B 2 84 SKETCH OF MODERN ASTRONOMY. ries all his planets and all their secondaries along with him. But, at this stage of the argument, the matter only remains a conjectural point of speculation. The sun may have had his rotation impressed upon him by a spinning impulse ; or, without recurring to secondary causes at all, this movement may be coeval with his being, and he may have derived both the one and the other from an immediate fiat of the Creator. But there is an actually observed phenomenon of the heavens, which advances the conjecture into a probability. In the course of ages, the stars in one quarter of the celestial sphere are apparently receding from each other ; and, in the opposite quarter, they are apparently drawing nearer to each other. If the sun be ap- proaching the former quarter, and receding from the latter, this phenomenon admits of an easy ex- planation ; and we are furnished with a magnifi- cent step in the scale of the Creator's workman- ship. In the same manner as the planets, with their satellites, revolve round the, sun, may the sun, with all his tributaries, be moving, in common with other stars, around some distant centre, from which there emanates an influence to bind and to subordinate them all. They may be kept from approaching each other, by a centrifugal force ; without which, the laws of attraction might conso- lidate, into one stupendous mass, all the distinct globes of which the universe is composed. Our sun may, therefore, be only one member of a higher family — taking his part, along with millions of others, in some loftier system of mechanism, by SKETCH OF MODERN ASTRONOMY. 35 which they are all subjected to one law, and to one arrangement — describing the sweep of such an orbit in space, and completing the mighty revo- lution in such a period of time, as to reduce our planetary seasons, and our planetary movements, to a very humble and fractionary rank in the scale of a higher astronomy. There is room for all this in immensity ; and there is even argument for all this, in tlie records of actual observation ; and, from the whole of this speculation, do we gather a new emphasis to the lesson, how minute is the place, and how secondary is the importance of our world, amid the glories of such a surrounding mag- nificence. But there is still another very interesting tract of speculation, which has been opened up to us by the more recent observations of astronomy. What we alkide to, is the discovery of the nebulce. We allow that it is but a dim and indistinct light which this discovery has thrown upon the structure of the universe ; but still it has spread before the eye of the mind a field of very wide and lofty contem- plation. Anterior to this discovery, the universe might appear to have been composed of an indefi- nite number of suns, about equi-distant from each other, uniformly scattered over space, and each encompassed by such a planetary attendance as takes place in our own system. But, we have now reason to think, that instead of lying uniform- ly, and in a state of equi-distance from each other, they are arranged into distinct clusters — that, in the same manner as the distance of the nearest fixed stars so inconceivably superior to that of our 36 SKETCH OF MODERN ASTRONOMY. planets from each other, marks the separation of the solar systems, so the distance of two contigu ous clusters may be so inconceivably superior to the reciprocal distance of those fixed stars which belong to the same cluster, as to mark an equally distinct separation of the clusters, and to constitute each of them an individual member of some higher and more extended arrangement. This carries us upwards through another ascending step in the scale of magnificence, and there leaves us in the un- certainty, whether even here the wonderful pro- gression is ended; and, at all events, fixes the assured conclusion in our minds, that, to an eye which could spread itself over the whole, the man- sion which accommodates our species might be so very small as to lie wrapped in microscopical con- cealment ; and, in reference to the only Being who possesses this universal eye, well might we say, " What is man, that thou art mindful of him; or the son of man, that thou shouldest deign to visit him ?" And, after all, though it be a mighty and diffi- cult conception, yet who can question it ? What is seen may be nothing to what is unseen ; for what is seen is limited by the range of our instruments. What is unseen has no limit; and, though all which the eye of man can take in, or his fancy can grasp, were swept away, there might still remain as ample a field, over which the Divinity may ex- patiate, and which He may have peopled with innumerable worlds. If the whole visible creation were to disappear, it would leave a solitude behind il— but to the Infinite Mind, that can take in the SKETCH OF MODERN ASTRONOMY. 37 whole system of nature, this solitude might be no- thing ; a small unoccupied point in that immensity which surrounds it, and which he may have filled with the wonders of his omnipotence. Though this earth were to be burned up, though the trumpet of its dissolution were sounded, though yon sky were to pass away as a scroll, and every visible glory, which the finger of the Divinity has inscribed on it, were to be put out for ever — an event, so awful to us, and to every world in our vicinity, by which so many suns would be extinguished, and so many varied scenes of life and of population would rush into forgetfulness — what is it in the high scale of the Almighty's workmanship? a mere shred, which, though scattered into nothing, would leave the universe of God one entire scene of greatness and of majesty. Though this earth, and these heavens, were to disappear, there are other worlds which roll afar ; the light of other suns shines upon them; and the sky which mantles them, is garnished with other stars. Is it presumption to say, that the moral world extends to these distant and unknown regions ? that they are occupied with people ? that the charities of home and of neighbourhood flourish there ? that the praises of God are there hfted up, and his goodness rejoiced in ? that piety has there its temples and its oflferings ? and the richness of the divine attributes is there felt and admired by intelligent worshippers ? And what is this world in the immensity which teems with them — and what are they who occupy it ? The universe at large would suffer as little, in its splendour and variety, by the destruction of 38 SKETCH OF MODERN ASTRONOMY. our planet, as the verdure and sublime magnitude of a forest would suffer by the fall of a single leaf. The leaf quivers on the branch which supports it. It lies at the mercy of the slightest accident. A breath of wind tears it from its stem, and it lights on the stream of water which passes underneath. In a moment of time, the life which we know, by the microscope, it teems with, is extinguished ; and an occurrence so insignificant in the eye of man, and on the scale of his observation, carries in it, to the myriads which people this little leaf, an event as terrible and as decisive as the destruction of a world. Now, on the grand scale of the universe, we, the occupiers of this ball, which performs its little round among the suns and the systems that astronomy has unfolded — we may feel the same littleness, and the same insecurity. We differ from the leaf only in this circumstance, that it would require the operation of greater elements to destroy us. But these elements exist. The fire which rages within, may lift its devouring energy to the surface of our planet, and transform it into one wide and wasting volcano. The sudden for- mation of elastic matter in the bowels of the earth — and it lies within the agency of known substances to accomplish this — may explode it into fragments. The exhalation of noxious air from below, may impart a virulence to the air that is around us ; it may affect the delicate proportion of its ingre- dients; and the whole of animated nature may wither and die under the malignity of a tainted atmosphere. A blazing comet may cross this fated planet in its orbit, and realize all the terrors SKETCH OF MODERN ASTRONOMY. 39 which superstition has conceived of it. We cannot anticipate with precision the consequences of an event which every astronomer must know to He within the hmits of chance and probabihty. It may hurry our globe towards the sun — or drag it to the outer regions of the planetary system — or give it a new axis of revolution : and the effect, which I shall simply announce, without explaining it, would be to change the place of the ocean, and bring another mighty flood upon our islands and continents. These are changes which may happen in a single instant of time, and against which no- thing known in the present system of things pro- vides us with any security. They might not an- nihilate the earth, but they would unpeople it ; and we who tread its surface with such firm and assured footsteps, are at the mercy of devouring elements, which, if let loose upon us by the hand of the Almighty, would spread solitude, and silence, and death, over the dominions of the world. Now, it is this littleness, and this insecurity, which make the protection of the Almighty so dear to us, and bring, with such emphasis, to every pious bosom, the holy lessons of humility and gra- titude. The God who sitteth above, and presides in high authority over all worlds, is mindful of man ; and though at this moment His energy is felt in the remotest provinces of creation, we may feel the same security in His providence, as if we were the objects of His undivided care. It is not for us to bring our minds up to this mysterious agency. But such is the incomprehensible fact, that the same Being, whose eye is abroad over the whole 40 SKETCH OF MODERN ASTRONOMY. • universe, gives vegetation to every blade of grass, and motion to every particle of blood which cir- culates through the veins of the minutest animal ; that, though His mind takes into its comprehen- sive grasp, immensity and all its wonders, I am as much known to Him as if I were the single object of His attention ; that He marks all my thoughts ; that He gives birth to every feeling and every movement within me ; and that, with an exercise of power which I can neither describe nor compre- hend, the same God who sits in the highest hea- ven, and reigns over the glories of the firmament, is at my right hand, to give me every breath which I draw, and every comfort which I enjoy. But this very reflection has been appropriated to the use of Infidelity, and the very language of the text has been made to bear an application of hostility to the faith. " What is man, that God should be mnidfui of him ; or the son of man, that he should deign to visit him ?" Is it likely, says the Infidel, tliat God would send his eternal Son, to die for the puny occupiers of so insignificant a province in the mighty field of his creation? Are we the befitting objects of so great and so signal an interposition? Does not the largeness of that field which astronomy lays open to the view of modern science, throw a suspicion over the truth of the gospel history ? and how shall we reconcile the greatness of that wonderful movement which was made in heaven for the redemption of fallen man, with the comparative meanness and obscu- rity of our species ? This is a popular argument against Christianity, SKETCH OF MODERN ASTRONOMY. 41 not much dwelt upon in books, but, we believe, a. good deal insinuated in conversation, and having no small influence on the amateurs of a superficial philosophy. At all events, it is right that every such argument should be met, and manfully con- fronted ; nor do we know a more discreditable surrender of our religion, than to act as if she had any thing to fear from the ingenuity of her most accomplished adversaries. The author of the fol- lowing treatise engages in his present undertaking, under the full impression that a something may be found with which to combat Infidelity in all its forms; that the truth of God and of his message admits of a noble and decisive manifestation, through every mist which the pride, or the preju- dice, or the sophistry of man may throw around it ; and elevated as the wisdom of him may be, who has ascended the heights of science, and poured the light of demonstration over the most wondrous of nature's mysteries, that even out of his own principles it may be proved, how inuth more elevated is the wisdom of him who sits with the docility of a little child to his Bible, and casts down 10 its authority all his loffy imaginatio)is. 42 THE MODESTY OF TRUE SCIENCE, DISCOURSE 11. THE MODESTY OF TRUE SCIENCE. " And if any man think that he knoweth any thing-, hi knoweth nothing yet as he ought to know." — 1 Corinthians, viii. 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 diffi- culties, 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 most painful to the sensibilities of our own bosom, and with what is most aggravating in the hardships 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 sensa- tions, 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 of the people around him — and that he cannot get THE MODESTY OF TRUE SCIENCE. 43 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 pe- culiarities 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 w^e 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 con- templations 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 his own lot, and dispose him to bear, with thankfulness, his own burden ; and if this train of sentiment were prose- cuted with firmness, and calmness, and impartiality, it w ould lead to the conclusion, that each profession in life has its own pecuUar pains, and its own 44 THE MODESTY OF TRUE SCIENCE. besetting inconveniences — that, from the very bot- tom 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, through- out 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 ex- perience 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 com- prehend 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 the other, those men of close and studious retirement, whom the w^orld never hears of, save when, from their thoughtful solitude, there issues forth some spienaiof discovery, to set the world on a gaze of aamiration. 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 be- stow — and the name of the successful philosopher will circulate, in his own age, over the whole extent of civilized society, and be borne dow^n to posterity in the characters of ever-during remembrance : and thus it is, that, when we look back on the days of THE MODESTY OF TRUE SCIENCE. 45 NewtoT!, 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 the 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 sta- bility ; 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 un- ambitious 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 46 THE MODESTY OF TRUE SCIENCE. 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 la- bouring 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 al- ternate 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, THE MODESTY OF TRUE SCIENCE. 4' which conferred upon these doctrines all the establishment of a most rigid and conclusive de- monstration. But, while he gets all his credit, and all his ad- miration 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 he in- troduced 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 wliich, in fact, gives its leading peculiarity to the whole spirit and style of his investigations, that he put a most deter- mined exclusion on every one position that was destitute of such proof. He would not admit the astrononiical 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 move- ments 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 philo- sophy, as much by his decisions upon those doctrines of science which he rejected, as by his demonstra- tion of those doctrines of science which he was the first to propose, and which now stand out to the 48 THE MODESTY OF TRUE SCIENCE. eye of posterity as the only monuments to tht* 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 under- standing—and though all antiquity lent their suffrages to it, and all eloquence had thrown around it the most attractive brilliancy, and all habit had incor- porated it with every system of every seminary in Europe, and all fancy had arrayed it in graces of tbe most tempting solicitation ; yet w as 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 th^t 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, THE MODESTY OF TRUE SCIENCE. 49 while he advanced with a firm and assured move- ment, wherever the Ught 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 won- derful 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 sohcit 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 w^ng 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 VOL. vn. c §0 THE MouKSTi^ or tuul: science:. 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 al- lude 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 M^hich 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 vic- tories, 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 bounte- ous heaven has so richly gifted the constitution of our species. But, on the other hand, go beyond the hmits of sensible observation, and, from that moment, the THE MODESTY OF TRUE SCIENCE. 51 genuine disciples of this enlightened school cast all their confidence and all their intrepidity away from them. Keep them on the firm ground of experi- ment, and none more bold and more decisive in their announcements of all that they have evidence for— but, olf this ground, none more humble, or more cau- tious 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 wliich, unmindful of the limit that separates the region of sense from the region of conjecture, they make their blind and their im- petuous 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 aggrandize- ment 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 ofwarranted exertion, evinced all the hardihood and vigour of a full-grown understanding, show, on every subject where the light of evidence 52 THE MODESTY OF TRUE SCIENCE. 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 w^here the evidence of truth is present, and, at the same time, begets an entire diffidence about every one position from whic'h this evidence is disjoined. And thus we may understand, how the first man in the accomplish- ments 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 tjirew a sweet and softening lustre around the radiance even of his most splendid discoveries : and, while the flippancy of a few su- perficial acquirements is enough to place a philo- sopher 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. Ail tlie sublime truths of the modern astronomy lie within the field of actual observation, and have the firm evidence to rest upon of ail that information which is conveyed to us by the avenue of the senses. Sir Isaac Newton never w^ent beyond this field, THE MODESTY Ol' TRUE SCIENCE. 53 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 forbid- den 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 con- ceive, 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 apphcations 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 ingen- uity, and having, withal, the colour of truth and of consistency spread over it. I can conceive how a superficial public might be 54 THE MODESTY OF TRUE SCIENCE. 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 sul)ject 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 ; and 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 con- ceived to shift his speculation from the plants of another world, to the character of its inhabitants. THE MODESTY OF TRUE SCIENCE. 5.) He may avail himself of some slender correspond- encies 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 pos- sibilities of human attainment. He has wantonly flung himself off from the safe and firm field of ob- servation, and got on that undiscoverable ground, where, by every step he takes, he widens his dis- tance 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 56 THE MODESTY OF TRUE SCIENCE. 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 ap- parent 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 THE MODESTY OF TRUE SCIENCE. 57 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 des- titute 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 c 2 58 THE MODESTY OF TRUE SCIENCE. 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 specu- lation 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 astron- omy 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- ma- lignity 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 overpower- ing 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, THE MODESTY OF TRUE SCIENCE. 59 *•' 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. Bat 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 Infi- delity which I am now combating. It is he who props his unchristian argument, by presumptions 60 THE MODESTY OF TRUE SCIENCE. 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^nter; because, with a justness which reigns throughout all his in- quiries, 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 the 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 im- agination. It is he who turns aside from all that safe and certain argument, that is supplied by the 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 THE MODESTY OF TRUE SCIENCE. 61 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 cal- culated 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 un- derstanding, he tells us of Bacon having believed in witchcraft, and Sir Isaac Newton having writ- ten 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 brilUant and specious, but withal super- ficial apostle of Infidelity, either did not see, or refused to acknowledge. We see in this intellec- tual 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 sa- credly 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 vahd proof to uphold it, as could be gathered from the field of human expe- rience ; and we see the same firm resistance of every one argument, that had nothing to recom- mend it, but such plausibilities as could easily be 62 THE MODESTY OF TRUE SCIENCE. 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 ambas- sador 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 cir- cumstances 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 forna- THE MODESTY OF TRUE SCIENCE. 63 ed 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 suc- cessors into the track of Infidelity. He had mea- sured the distances of these planets. He had cal- culated their periods. He had estimated their figures, and their bulk, and their densities, and he had subordinated the whole intricacy of their move- ments 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 spe- culation. He knew the boundary which hemmed him. He knew that he had not thrown one par- ticle 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 symp- tom of dotage and imbecility, or any forgetfulness of those principles on which the fabric of his phi- losophy is reared ; do I see, that in sitting down to the work of a Bible commentator, he hath given 64 THE MODESTY OF TRUE SCIENCE. 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 famiharized 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 Infi- delity 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 arti- fices 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 estabhshed 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 gath- ered as many of the lighter petulancies of the in- fidel 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 rehgious observation, and to give him the disdain of an elevated complacency over all the follies of what he counts a vulgar su- THE MODESTY OF TRUE SCIENCE. 65 f^rstltion. 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, look- ing 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, what- ever 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 fol- lowers of Newton give to observation the prece- dence 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 conclu- sion 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 authen- tic messenger from Heaven, I know nothing of Heaven's counsels. I never heard of any moral telescope that can bring to my observation the 66 THE MODESTY OF TRUE SCIENCE* 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 go- ings forth of Him who is from everlasting unto everlasting ; can tell me of the march and the movements of that great administration which em- braces all worlds, and takes into its wide and com- prehensive survey the mighty roll of innumerable ages. It is true that my fancy may break its im- petuous 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 coun- sel of the Lord, it shall stand. And I repeat it, that if true to the leading principle of that philo- sophy, 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 be- fore me, and that it has all the solidity of the ex- perimental 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- THE MODESTY OF TRUE SCIENCE. 6T 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 briUiancy around it ; and spurns the Bible, with all the doc- trine, 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 en- noble 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. 68 THE EXTENT OF THE DISCOURSE III. ON THE EXTENT OF THE DIVINE CONDESCENSION. * "Wiio is like unto the Lord our God, who dwelleth on high ; who humbleth himself to behold the things that are in heaven, and in the earth!" — Psalm cxiii. 5, 6. In our last Discourse, we attempted to expose the total want of evidence for the assertion of the infidel astronomer — and this reduces the whole of our remaining controversy with him, to the business of arguing against a mere possibility. Still, however, the answer is not so complete as it might be, till .he soundness of the argument be attended to, as well as the credibility of the assertion — or, in other words, let us admit the assertion, and take a view of the reasoning which has been constructed upon it. We have already attempted to lay before you the wonderful extent of that space, teeming with unnumbered worlds, which modern science has brought within the circle of its discoveries. We even ventured to expatiate on those tracts of infinity, which lie on the other side of all that eye or that telescope hath made known to us — to shoot afar into those ulterior regions, which are beyond the limits of our astronomy — to impress you with the rashness of the imagination, that the creative energy of God had sunk exhausted by the magnitude of its efforts, at that very line, through which the art DIVINE CONDESCENSION. 69 of man, lavished as it has been on the work of perfecting the instruments of vision, has not yet been able to penetrate ; and upon all this we hazarded the assertion, that though all these visible heavens were to rush into annihilation, and the besom of the Almighty's wrath were to sweep from the face of the universe, those millions, and milUons more of suns and of systems, which lie within the grasp of our actual observation — that this event, which, to our eye, would leave so wide and so dismal a solitude behind it, might be nothing in the eye of Him who could take in the whole, but the disap- pearance of a little speck from that field of created things, which the hand of His omnipotence had thrown around him. But to press home the sentiment of the text, it is not necessary to stretch the imagination beyond the limit of our actual discoveries. It is enough to strike our minds with the insignificance of this world, and of all who inhabit it, to bring it into measurement with that mighty assemblage of worlds which lie open to the eye of man, aided as it has been by the inventions of his genius. When we told you of the eighty millions of suns, each oc- cupying his own independent territory in space, and dispensing his own influences over a cluster of tributary worlds ; this world could not fail to sink into littleness in the eye of him, who looked to all the magnitude and variety which are around it. We gave you but a feeble image of our comparative insignificance, when we said, that the glories of an extended forest would suffer no more from the fall of a single leaf, than the glories of this extended 70 THE EXTENT OF THE universe would suifer, though the globe we tread upon, " and all that it inherit, should dissolve." And when we lift our conceptions to Him who has peopled immensity with all these wonders — Who sits enthroned on the magnificence of His own works, and by one sublime idea can embrace the whole extent of that boundless amplitude, which He has filled with the trophies of His divinity ; we cannot but resign our whole heart to the Psalmist's exclamation of " What is man, that thou art mindful of him ; or the son of man, that thou shouldst deign to visit him !" Now, mark the use to which all this has been turned by the genius of Infidelity. Such an humble portion of the universe as ours, could never have been the object of such high and distinguishing attentions as Christianity has assigned to it. God would not have manifested Himself in the flesh for the salvation of so paltry a world. The monarch of a whole continent would never move from his capital ; and lay aside the splendour of royalty ; and subject himself for months, or for years, to perils, and poverty, and persecution ; and take up his abode in some small islet of his dominions, which, though swallowed by an earthquake, could not be missed amid the glories of so wide an empire ; and all this to regain the lost affections of a few families upon its surface. And neither would the eternal Son of God — He who is revealed to us as having made all worlds, and as holding an empire, amid the splendours of which, the globe that we inherit is shaded in insignificance ; neither would He strip HimseK of the glory He had with the Father before DIVINE CONDESCENSION. 71 the world was, and light on this lower scene for the purpose imputed to Him in the New Testament. Impossible, that the concerns of this puny ball, which floats its little round among an infinity of larger worlds, should be of such mighty account in the plans of the Eternal, or should have given birth in heaven to so wonderful a movement, as the Son of God putting on the form of our degraded species, and sojourning amongst us, and sharing in all our infirmities, and crowning the whole scene of hu- miliation by the disgrace and the agonies of a cruel martyrdom. This has been started as a difficulty in the way of theChristian Revelation; and it is the boast of many of our philosophical Infidels, that, by the light of modern discovery, the light of the New Testa- ment is eclipsed and overborne ; and the mischief is not confined to philosophers, for the argument has got into other hands, and the popular illustrations that are now given to the sublimest truths of science, have widely disseminated all the Deism that has been grafted upon it ; and the high tone of a decided contempt for the Gospel is now associated with the flippancy of superficial accquirements ; and, while the venerable Newton, whose genius threw open those mighty fields of contemplation, found a fit exercise for his powers in the interpretation of the Bible, there are thousands and tens of thousands, who, though walking in the hght which he holds out to them, are seduced by a complacency which he never felt, and inflated by a pride which never entered into his pious and philosophical bosom, and 72 THE EXTENT OF THE whose only notice of the Bible is to depreciate, and to deride, and to disown it. Before entering into what we conceive to be the right answer to this objection, let us previously observe, that it goes to strip the Deity of an attribute, which forms a wonderful addition to the glories of his incomprehensible character. It is .indeed a mighty evidence of the strength of His arm, that so many millions of worlds are suspended on it ; but it would suiely make the high attribute of His power more illustrious, if, while it expatiated at large among the suns and the systems of astronomy, it could, at the very same instant, be impressing a movement and a direction on all the minuter wheels of that machinery which is working incessantly around us. It forms a noble demonstration of His wisdom, that He gives unremitthig operation to those laws which uphold the stability of this great universe ; but it would go to heighten that wisdom inconceivably, if, while equal to the magnificent task of maintaining tlie order and harmony of the spheres, it was lavishing its inexhaustible resources on the beauties, and varieties, and arrangements, of every one scene, however humble, of every one field, however narrow, of the creation He had formed. It is a cheering evidence of the delight He takes in communicating happiness, that the whole of immensity should be so strewed with the habitations of life and of intelligence ; but it would surely bring home the evidence, with a nearer and a more affecting impression, to every bosom, did we know, that at the very time His benignant regard DIVINE CONDESCENSION. 73 took in the mighty circle of created beings, there was not a single family overlooked by Him, and that every individual in every corner of his do- minions, was as effectually seen to, as if the object of an exclusive and undivided care. It is our imperfec- tion, that we cannot give our attention to more than one object, at one and the same instant of time; but surely it would elevate our every idea of the per- fections of God, did we know, that while his comprehensive mind could grasp the whole amplitude of nature, to the very outermost of its boundaries, He had an attentive eye fastened on the very humblest of its objects, and pondered every thought of my heart, and noticed every footstep of my goings, and treasured up in His remembrance every turn and every movement of my history. And, lastly, to apply this train of sentiment to the matter before us; let us suppose that one among the countless myriads of worlds, should be visited by a moral pestilence, which spread through all its people, and brought them under the doom of a law, whose sanctions were unrelenting and immutable ; it were no disparagement to God, should He, by an act of righteous indignation, sweep this offence away from the universe which it deformed — nor should we wonder, though, among the multitude of other worlds, from which the ear of the Almighty was regaled with the songs of praise, and the in- cense of a pure adoration ascended to His throne, He should leave the strayed and solitary world to perish in the guilt of its rebehion. But, would it not throw the softening of a most exquisite tender- ness over the character of God, should we see Him VOL. VII. D 74 THE EXTENT OF THE putting forth His every expedient to reclaim to Himself those children who had wandered away from Him — and, few as they were when compared with the host of His obedient worshippers, would it not just impart to his attribute of compas- sion the infinity of the Godhead, that, rather than lose the single world which had turned to its own way, He should send the messengers of peace to woo and to welcome it back again ; and, if justice demanded so mighty a sacrifice, and the law be- hoved to be so magnified and made honourable, would it not throw a moral sublime over the good- ness of the Deity, should He lay upon His own Son the burden of its atonement, that He might again smile upon the world, and hold out the sceptre of invitation to all its families ? We avow it, therefore, that this infidel argument goes to expunge a perfection from the character of God. The more we know of the extent of nature, should not we have the loftier conception of Him who sits in high authority over the concerns of so wide a universe ? But is it not adding to the bright catalogue of His other attributes, to say, that, while magnitude does not overpower Him, minuteness cannot escape Him, and vari?.VINE CONDESCENSION. 83 second of them — then I can no longer resist the conclusion, that it would be a transgression of sound argument, as well as a daring of impiety, to draw a limit around the doings of this unsearch- able God — and, should a professed revelation from heaven tell me of an act of condescension, in be- half of some separate world, so wonderful, that angels desired to look into it, and the Eternal Son had to move from His seat of glory to carry it into accomplishment, all I ask is the evidence of such a revelation ; for, let it tell me as much as it may of God letting himself down for the benefit of one single province of His dominions, this is no more than what I see lying scattered, in numberless ex- amples, before me ; and running through the whole line of my recollections ; and meeting me in every walk of observation to which I can betake myself; and, now that the microscope has unveiled the wonders of another region, I'see strewed around me, with a profusion which baffles my every attempt to comprehend it, the evidence that there is no one portion of the universe of God too minute for His notice, nor too humble for the visitations of His care. As the end of all these illustrations, let me be- stow a single paragraph on what I conceive to be the precise state of this argument. It is a wonderful thing that God should be so unencumbered by the concerns of a whole universe, that He can give a constant attention to every moment of every individual in this world's popu- lation. But, wonderful as it is, you do not hesi- tate to admit it a$ true, on the evidence of your 84 THE EXTENT OF THE own recollections. It is a wonderful thing that He, whose eye is at every histant on so many worlds, should have peopled the world we inhabit with all the traces of the varied design and bene- volence which abound in it. But great as the wonder is, you do not allow so much as the sha- dow of improbabiUty to darken it, for its reality is what you actually witness, and you never think of questioning the evidence of observation. It is wonderful, it is passing wonderful, that the same God, whose presence is diffused through immen- sity, and who spreads the ample canopy of His administration over all its dwelhng-places, should, with an energy as fresh and as unexpended as if He had only begun the work of creation, turn Him to the neighbourhood around us, and lavish, on its every hand-breadth, all the exuberance of His goodness, and crowd it with the many thou- sand varieties of conscious existence. But, be the wonder incomprehensible as it may, you do not suffer in your mind the burden of a single doubt to lie upon it, because you do not question the re- port of the microscope. You do not refuse its information, nor turn away from it as an in- competent channel of evidence. But to bring it still nearer to the point at issue, there are many who never looked through a microscope, but who rest an implicit faith in all its revelations; and upon what evidence I would ask? Upon tne evidence of testimony — upon the credit they give to the authors of the books they have read, and the belief they put in the record of their observations. Now, at tliis point I make my stand. It is won- DIVINE CONDESCENSION. 85 derful that God should be so mterested hi the redemption of a single world, as to send forth his well-beloved Son upon the errand; and He, to accomplish it, should, mighty to save, put forth all His strength, and travail in the greatness of it. But such wonders as these have already multi- plied upon you ; and when evidence is given of their truth, you have resigned your every judg- ment of the unsearchable God, and rested in the faith of them. I demand, in the name of sound and consistent philosophy, that you do the same in the matter before us — and take it up as a ques- tion of evidence — and examine that medium of testimony through which the miracles and infor- mations of the Gospel have come to your door — and go not to admit as argument here, what would not be admitted as argument in any of the analo- gies of nature and observation — and take along with you in this field of inquiry, a lesson which you should have learned upon other fields — even the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and the knowledge of God, that His judgments are un- searchable, and His ways are past finding out. I do not enter at all into the positive evidence for the truth of the Christian Revelation, my single aim at present being to dispose of one of the objec- tions which is conceived to stand in the way of it. Let me suppose then, that this is done to the sa- tisfaction of a philosophical inquirer ; and that the evidence is sustained ; and that the same mind that is familiarized to all the sublimities of natural sci- ence, and has been in the habit of contemplating God in association with all the magnificence whicli. 86 THE EXTENT OF THE is around him, shall be brought to submit its thoughts to the captivity of the doctrine of Christ. Oh ! with what veneration, and gratitude, and wonder, should he look on the descent of Him into this lower world, who made all these things, and without whom was not any thing made that was made. What a grandeur does it throw over every step in the redemption of a fallen world, to think of its being done by Him who unrobed Him of the glories of so wide a monarchy, and came to this humblest of its provinces, in the disguise of a ser- vant, and took upon Him the form of our degraded species, and let Himself down to sorrows, and to sufferings, and to death, for us ! In this love of an expiring Saviour to those for whom in agony He poured out His soul, there is a height, and a depth, and a length, and a bread*-h, more than I can comprehend ; and let me never from this mo- ment neglect so great a salvation, or lose my hold of an atonement, made sure by Him who cried that it Mas finished, and brought in an everlasting righteousness. It was not the visit of an empty parade that He made to us. It was for the accom- plishment of some substantial purpose ; and if that purpose is announced, and stated to consist in His dying the just for the unjust, that He might bring us unto God, let us never doubt of our acceptance in that way of communication with our Father in heaven, which he hath opened and made known to us. In taking to that way, let us follow His every direction, with that humihty which a sense of aU this wonderful condescension is fitted to inspire. Let us forsake all that He bids us forsake. Let DIVINE CONDESCENSION. 87 US do all that He bids us do. Let ns give our- selves up to his guidance with the docility of child- ren overpowered by a kindness that we never merited, and a love that is unequalled by all the perverseness and all the ingratitude of our stubborn nature — for what shall we render unto Him for such mysterious benefits — to him who has thus been mindful of us — to him who thus has deigned to visit us ? But the whole of this argument is not yet ex- hausted. We have scarcely entered on the defence that is commonly made against the plea which In- fidelity rests on the wonderful extent of the universe of God, and the insignificancy of oar assigned por- tion of it. The way in which we have attempted to dispose of this plea, is by insisting on the evi- dence that is every where around us, of God com- bining, with the largeness of a vast and mighty superintendance, which reaches the outskirts of creation, and spreads over all its amplitudes — the faculty of bestowing as much attention, and exer- cising as complete and manifold a wisdom, and lavishing as profuse and inexhaustible a goodness, on each of its humblest departments, as if it formed the whole extent of His territory. In the whole of this argument we have looked upon the earth as isolated from the rest of the universe altogether. But, according to the way in which the astronomical objection is commonly met, the earth is not viewed as in a state of de- tachment from the other worlds, and the other orders of being which God has called into existence. It is looked upon as the member of a more extend- 88 THE EXTENT OF THE ed system. It is associated with the magnificence of a moral empire, as wide as the kingdom of na- ture. It is not merely asserted, what in our last Discourse has been already done, that for any thing we can know by reason, the plan of redemp- tion may have its influences and its bearings on those creatures of God who people other regions, and occupy other fields in the immensity of his dominions ; that to argue, therefore, on this plan being instituted for the single benefit of the world we live in, and of the species to which we belong, is a mere presumption of the Infidel himself ; and that the objection he rears on it must fall to the ground, when the vanity of the presumption is exposed. The Christian apologist thinks he can go farther than this — that he can not merely ex- pose the utter baselessness of the Infidel assertion, but' that he has positive ground for erecting an opposite and a confronting assertion in its place — and that, after having neutrahzed their position, by showing the entire absence of all observation in its behalf, he can pass on to the distinct and affirmative testimony of the Bible. We do think that this lays open a very interest- ing track, not of wild and fanciful, but of most legitimate and sober-minded speculation. And anxious as we are to put every thing that bears upon the Christian argument, into all its lights; jind fearless as we feel for the result of a most thorough sifting of it ; and thinking as we do think it, the foulest scorn that any pigmy philosopher of the day should mince his ambiguous scepticism to a set of giddy and ignorant admirers, or that a DIVINE CONDESCENSION. 89 half-learned and superficial public should associate with the Christian priesthood, the blindness and the bigotry of a sinking cause — with these feelings we are not disposed to shun a single question that may be started on the subject of the Christian evidences. There is not one of its parts or bear- ings which needs the shelter of a disguise thrown over it. Let the priests of another faith ply their prudential expedients, and look so wise and so wary in the execution of them. But Christianity stands in a higher and a firmer attitude. The de- fensive armour of a shrinking or timid policy does not suit her. Hers is the naked majesty of truth ; and with all the grandeur of age, but with none of its infirmities, has she come down to us, and gathered new strength from the battles she has won in the many controversies of many genera- tions. With such a religion as this there is no- thing to hide. All should be above boards. And the broadest light of day should be made fully and freely to circulate throughout all her secrecies. But secrets she has none. To her belong the frankness and the simplicity of conscious greatness; and whether she has to contend with the pride of philosophy, or stand in fronted opposition to the prejudices of the multitude, she does it upon her own strength, and spurns all the props and all the auxiliaries of superstition away from her. 90 KNOWLEDGE OF MAN'S MORAL HISTORY DISCOURSE IV. ON THE KNOWLEDGE OF MAN'S MORAL HIS- TORY IN THE DISTANT PLACESOF CREATION *' Which things the angels desire to look into." — 1 Petee i. 12. There is a limit, across which man cannot carry any one of his perceptions, and from the ulterior of which he cannot gather a single observation to guide or to inform him. While he keeps by the objects which are near, he can get the knowledge of them conveyed to his mind through the ministry of several of the senses. He can feel a substance that is within reach of his hand. He can smell a flower that is presented to him. He can taste the food that is before him. He can hear a sound of certain pitch and intensity ; and, so much does this sense of hearing widen his intercourse with external nature, that, from the distance of miles, it can bring him in an occasional intimation. But of all the tracts of conveyance which God has been pleased to open up between the mind of man, and the theatre by which he is surrounded, there is none by which he so multiplies his acquain- tance with the rich and the varied creation on every side of him, as by the organ of the eye. It is this which gives to man his loftiest command over the scenery of nature. It is this by which so broad a range of observation is submitted to him. It is this IN DISTANT PLACES OF CREATION. 91 which enables him, by the act of a single moment, to send an exploring look over the surface of an ample territory, to crowd his mind with the whole assembly of its objects, and to fill his vision with those countless hues which diversify and adorn it. It is this which carries him abroad over all that is sublime in the immensity of distance ; which sets him as it were on an elevated platform, from whence he may cast a surveying glance over the arena of innumerable worlds ; which spreads before him so mighty a province of contemplation, that the earth he inhabits only appears to furnish him with the pedestal on which he may stand, and from which he may descry the wonders of all that magnificence which the Divinity has poured so abundantly around him. It is by the narrow outlet of the eye, that the mind of man takes its excursive flight over those golden tracks, where, in all the exhaustless- ness of creative wealth, lie scattered the suns and the systems of astronomy. But how good a thing it is, and how becoming well, for the philosopher to be humble even amid the proudest march of human discovery, and the sublimest triumphs of the human understanding, when he thinks of that unsealed barrier, beyond which no power, either of eye or of telescope, shall ever carry him ; when he thinks that, on the other side of it, there is a height, and a depth, and a length, and a breadth, to which the whole of this concave and visible firmament dwindles into the insignificancy of an atom — and above all, how ready should he be to cast every lofty imagination away from him, when he thinks of the God, who, on the simple foundation of His word, has reared 92 KNOWLEDGE OF MAN's MORAL HISTORY the whole of this stately architecture, and, by the force of His preserving hand, continues to uphold it ; and should the word again come out from Him, that this earth shall pass away, and a portion of the heavens which are around it, shall fall back into the annihilation from which He at first summoned them what an impressive rebuke does it bring on the swelling vanity of science, to think that the whole field of its most ambitious enterprises may be swept away altogether, and still there remain before the eye of Him who sitteth on the throne, an untravelled immensity, which He hath filled with innumerable splendours, and over the whole face of which he hath inscribed the evidence of His high attributes, in all their might, and in all their manifestation. But man has a great deal more to keep him humble of his understanding, than a mere sense of that boundary which skirts and which terminates the material field of his contemplations. He ought also to feel, how, within that boundary, the vast majority of things is mysterious and unknown to him — that even in the inner chamber of his own consciousness, where so much lies hidden from the observation of others, there is also to himself a little world of incomprehensibles ; that if stepping beyond the limits of this familiar home, he look no farther than to the members of his family, there is much in the cast and the colour of every mind that is above his powers of divination ; that in proportion as he recedes from the centre of his own personal ex- perience, there is a cloud of ignorance and secrecy which spreads, and thickens, and throws a deep IN DISTANT PLACES OF CREATION. 93 and impenetrable veil over the intricacies of every one department of human contemplation ; that of all around him, his knowledge is naked and super- ficial, and confined to a few of those more conspicu- ous lineaments which strike upon his senses; that the whole face, both of nature and of society, pre- sents him with questions which he cannot unriddle, and tells him that beneath the surface of all that the eye can rest upon, there lies the profoundness of a most unsearchable latency ; and should he in some lofty enterprise of thought, leave this world, and shoot afar into those tracks of speculation which astronomy has opened, should he, baffled by the mysteries which beset his footsteps upon earth, attempt an ambitious flight towards the mysteries of heaven — let him go, but let the justness of a pious and philosophical modesty go along with him let him forget not, that from the moment his mind has taken its ascending way for a few little miles above the world he treads upon, his every sense abandons him but one — that number, and motion, and magnitude, and figure, make up all the bare- ness of its elementary informations — that these orbs have sent him scarce another message than told by their feeble glimmering upon his eye, the simple fact of their existence— that he sees not the land- scape of other worlds — that he knows not the moral system of any one of them — nor athwart the long and trackless vacancy which lies between, does there fall upon his listening ear the hum of their mighty populations. But the knowledge which he cannot fetch up himself from the obscurity of this wondrous but 94 KNOWLEDGE OF MAN's MORA! HISTORY untravelled scene, by the exercise of any one of his own senses, migiit be fetched to him by the testi- mony of a competent messenger. Conceive a' native of one of these planetary mansions to Ught upon our world ; and all we should require, w^ould be, to be satisfied of his credentials, that we may give our faith to every point of information he had to offer us. With the solitary exception of what we have been enabled to gather by the instruments of astronomy, there is not one of his communications about the place he came from, on which we possess any means at all of confronting him ; and, there- fore, could he only appear before us invested with the characters of truth, we should never think of any thing else than taking up the whole matter of his testimony just as he brought it to us. It were well had a sound philosophy schooled its professing disciples to the same kind of acquies- cence in another message, which has actually come to the world ; and has told us of matters still more remote from every power of unaided observation ; and has been sent from a more sublime and myste- rious distance, even from that God of whom it is said, that "clouds and darkness are the habitation of his throne ;" and treating of a theme so lofty and so inaccessible, as the counsels of that Eternal Spirit, " whose goings forth are of old, even from everlasting," challenges of man that he should sub- mit his every thought to the authority of this high communication. Oh ! had the philosophers of the day known as well as their great master, how to draw the vigorous land-mark which verges the field of legitimate discovery, they should have- seen when IN DISTANT PLACES OF CREATION. 95 it is that philosophy becomes vain, and science is falsely so called ; and how it is, that when philo- sophy is true to her principles, she shuts up her faithful votary to the Bible, and makes him willing to count all but loss, for the knowledge of Jesus Christ, and of Him crucified. But let it be well observed, that the object of this message is not to convey information to us about the state of these planetary regions. This is not the matter with which it is fraught. It is a message from the throne of God to this rebellious province of His dominions ; and the purpose of it is, to reveal the fearful extent of our guilt and of our danger, and to lay before us the overtures of reconciliation. *Were a similar message sent from the metropolis of a mighty empire to one of its remote and revoluticmary districts, we should not look to it for much information about the state or economy of the intermediate provinces. This were a departure from the topic on hand — though still there may chance to be some incidental allusions to the extent and resources of the whole monarchy, to the existence of a similar spirit of rebellion in other quarters of the land, or to the general principle of loyalty by which it was pervaded. Some casual references of this kind may be inserted in such a proclamation, or they may not — and it is with this precise feeling of ambiguity that we open the record of that embassy which has been sent us from heaven, to see if we can gather any thing there, about other places of the creation, to meet the objections of the infidel astronomer. But, while we pursue this object, let us be careful not to push 96 KNOWLEDGE OF MAN'S MORA.L HISTORY tixG speculation beyond the limits of the written testimony; let us keep a just and a steady eye on the actual boundary of our knowledge, that, through- out every distinct step of our argument, we might preserve that chaste and unambitious spirit, which characterizes the philosophy of him who explored these distant heavens, and, by the force of his genius, unravelled the secret of that wondrous mechanism which upholds them. The informations of the Bible upon this subject, are of two sorts — that from which we confidently gather the fact, that the history of the redemption of our species is known in other and distant places of the creation — and that from which we indistinct- ly guess at the fact, that the redelnption itself may stretch beyond the limits of the world we occupy. And here it may shortly he adverted to, that, though we know little or nothing of the moral and theological economy of the other planets, we are not to infer, that the beings who occupy these widely extended regions, even though not higher than we in tiie scale of understanding, know little of ours. Our first parents, ere they committed that act by which they brought themselves and their posterity into the need of redemption, had frequent and fam- iliar intercourse with God. He walked with them in the garden of paradise, and there did angels hold their habitual converse ; and, should the same un- blotted innocence which charmed and attracted these superior beings to the haunts of Eden, be perpetuated in every planet but our own, then might each of them be tlie scene of high and heavenly communications, and an open way for the IN DISTANT PLACES OF CREATION. 97 messengers of God be kept up with them all, and ttiei)- inhabiianis bo admitted to a share in the themes and contemplations of angels, and have their spirits exercised on those things, of which we are told that the angels desired to look into them ; and thus, as we talk of the public mind of a city, or the public mind of an empire — by the well-frequented avenues of a free and ready circulation, a public mind might be formed throughout the whole extent of God's sinless and intelligent creation — and, just as we often read of the eyes of all Europe being turned to the one spot where some affair of eventful impor- tance is going on, there might be the eyes of a whole universe turned to the one world, where rebellion against the Majesty of heaven had planted its standard ; and for the readmission of which within the circle of His fellowship, God, whose justice was mflexible, but whose mercy He had, by some plan of mysterious wisdom, made to rejoice over it, was putting forth all the might, and travailing in all the greatness of the attributes which belonged to Him. But, for the full understanding of this argument, it must be remarked, that while in our exiled habitation, where all is darkness, and rebellion, and enmity, the creature engrosses every heart ; and our affections, when they shift at all, only wander from one fleeting vanity to another, it is not so in the habitations of the unfallen. There, every de- sire and every movement is subordinated to God. He is seen in all that is formed, and in all that is spread around them — and, amid the fulness of that delight w ith which tfaey expatiate over the good and VOL. VII. E 98 KNOWLEDGE OF MAN's MOBAL HISTORY the fair of this wondrous universe, the animating cnarm which pervaaes thtir every contemplation, is, that they behold, on each visible thing, the im- press of the mind that conceived, and of the hand that made and that upholds it. Here, God is banished from the thoughts of every natural man, and, by a firm and constantly maintained act of usurpation, do the things of sense and of time wield an entire ascendancy. There, God is all in all. They walk in His light. They rejoice in the beatitudes of His presence. The veil is from oiF their eyes ; and they see the character of a presiding Divinity in every scene, and in every event to which the Divinity has given birth. It is this which stamps a glory and an importance on the whole field of their contemplations ; and when they see a new evolution in the history of created things, the reason they bend towards it so attentive an eye, is, that it speaks to their understanding some new evolution in the purposes of God — some new manifestation of His high attributes — some new and interesting step in the history of His sublime administration. Now, we ought to be aware how it takes off, not from the intrinsic weight, but from the actual impression of our argument, that this devotedness to God which reigns in other places of the creation ; this interest in Him as the constant and essential principle of all enjoyment ; this concern in the untaintedness of his glory ; this delight in the survey of His perfections and His doings, are what the men of our corrupt and darkened world cannot sympathize Avith. But however little we may enter into it, the Bible IN DISTANT PLACES OF CREATION. 99 teiis us, by many mtimations, that amongst those creatures who have not fallen from their allegiance, nor departed from the living God, God is their all — that love to Him sits enthroned in their hearts, and fills them with all the ecstasy of an overwhelming affection — that a sense of grandeur never so elevates their souls, as when they look at the might and majesty of the Eternal — that no field of cloudless transparency so enchants them by the blissfulness of its visions, as when, at the shrine of infinite and unspotted holiness, they bend themselves in raptured adoration — that no beauty so fascinates and attracts them, as does that moral beauty which throws a softening lustre over the awfulness of the Godhead . — in a word, that the image of his character is ever present to their contemplations, and the unceasing joy of their sinless existence lies in the knowledge and the admiration of Deity. Let us put forth an effort, and keep a steady hold of this consideration, for the deadness of our earthly imaginations makes an effort necessary; and we shall perceive, that though the world we live in were the alone theatre of redemption, there is a something in the redemption itself that is fitted to draw the eye of an arrested universe towards it. Surely, where delight in God is the constant enjoyment, and the earnest intelligent contemplation of God is the constant exercise, there is nothing in the -whole compass of nature or of history, that can so set His adoring myriads upon the gaze, as some new and wondrous evolution of the character of God. Now this is found in the plan of our redemption ; nor do we see how, in any transaction between the great 100 KNOWLEDGE OF MAN*S MORAL HISTORY Father of existence, and the children who have sprung from Him, the moral attributes of the Deity could, if we may so express ourselves, be put to so severe and so delicate a test. It is true, that the great matters of sin and of salvation, fall without im- pression on the heavy ears of a listless and alienated world. But they who, to use the language of the Bible, are light in the Lord, look otherwise at these things. They see sin in all its malignity, and sal- vation in all its mysterious greatness. And it would put them on the stretch of all their faculties, when they saw rebellion lifting up its standard against the Majesty of heaven, and the truth and the justice of God embarked on the threatenings He had uttered against all the doers of iniquity, and the honours of that august throne, which has the firm pillars of immutability to rest upon, linked with the fulfilment of the law that had come out from it ; and when nothing else was looked for, but that God, by putting forth the power of His wrath, should accomplish His every denunciation, and vindicate the inflexi- bility of His government, and, by one sweeping deed of vengeance, assert, in the sight of all His creatures, the sovereignty which belonged to Him — with what desire must they have pondered on His ways, when, amid the urgency of all those demands which looked so high and so indispensable, they saw the unfoldings of the attribute of mercy — and that the Supreme Lawgiver was bending upon His guilty creatures an eye of tenderness — and that, in His profound and unsearchable wisdom. He w as devising for them some plan of restoration — and that the eternal Son had to move from His dwelhng-place in heaven, to IN DISTANT PLACES OF CREATION. 101 carry it forward through all the difficulties by which it was encompassed — and that, after by the virtue of His mysterious sacrifice He had magnified the glory of every other perfection, He made mercy rejoice over them all, and threw open a way by which we sinful and polluted wanderers might, with the whole lustre of theDivine character untarnished, be re-admitted into fellowship with God, and be again brought back within the circle of His loyal and alFectionate family. Now, the essential character of such a transac- tion, viewed as amanifestation of God, does not hang upon the number of woi-lds, over which this sin and this salvation may have extended. We know that over this one world such an economy of wisdom and of mercy is instituted — and, even should this be the only world that is embraced by it, the moral display of the Godhead is mainly and substantially the same, as if it reached throughout the whole of that habitable extent which the science of astronomy has made known to us. By the disobedience of this one world, the law was trampled on — and, in the business of making truth and mercy to meet, and have a harmonious accomplishment on the men of this world, the dignity of God was put to the same trial; the justice of God appeared to lay the same immoveable barrier ; the wisdom of God had to clear a way through the same difficulties ; the forgiveness of God had to find the same mysterious conveyance to the sinners of a solitary world, as to the sinners of half a universe. The extent of the field upon which this question was decided, has no more infiiience on the question itself, than the tigure 102 KNOWLEDGE OF MAN's MORAL HISTORT or the dimensions of that field of combat, on which some great political question was fought, has on the importance or on the moral principles of the controversy that gave rise to it. This objection about the narrowness of the theatre, carries along with it all the grossness of materialism. To the eye of spiritual and intelligent beings, it is nothing. In their view, the redemption of a sinful world derives its chief interest from the display it gives of the mind and purposes of the Deity — and, should that world be but a single speck in the immensity of the works of God, the only way in which this affects their estimate of Him is to magnify His loving-kindness — who, rather than lose one solitary world of the myriads He has formed, would lavish all the riches of His beneficence and of His wisdom on the recovery of its guilty population. Now, though it must be admitted that the Bible does not speak clearly or decisively as to the proper eff^ect of redemption being extended to other worlds: it speaks most clearly and most decisively about the knowledge of its being disseminated amongst other orders of created intelligence than our own. But if the contemplation of God be their supreme enjoyment, then the very circumstance of our re- demption being known to them, may invest it, even though itbe but the redemption of one solitary world, with an importance as wide as the universe itself. It may spread amongst the hosts of immensity a new illustration of the character of Him who is all their praise ; ami in looking towards whom every energy within them is moved to the exercise of a deep and delighted admiration. The scene of the IN DISTANT PLACES OF CREATION, 103 transaction may be narrow in point of material ex- tent ; while in the transaction itself there may be such a moral dignity, as to blazon the perfections of the Godhead over the face of creation ; and, from the manifested glory of the Eternal, to send forth a tide of ecstasy, and of high gratulation, throughout the whole extent of His dependent provinces. We shall not, in proof of the position, that the history of our redemption is known in other and distant places of creation, and is matter of deep interest and feeling amongst other orders of created intelligence — we shall not put down all the quota- tions which might be assembled together upon this argument. It is an impressive circumstance, that when Moses and Elias made a visit to our Saviour on the mount of transfiguration, and appeared in glory from heaven, the topic they brought along with them, and with which they were fraught, was the decease He was going to accomplish at Jer- usalem. And however insipid the things of our salvation may be to an earthly understanding ; we are made to know, that in the sufferings of Christ, and the glory which should follow, there is matter to attract the notice of celestial spirits, for these are the very things, says the Bible, which the angels desire to look into. And however listlessly we, the dull and grovelling children of an exiled family, may feel about the perfections of the Godhead, and the display of these perfections in the economy of the Gospel ; it is intimated to us in ths book of God's message, that the creation has its districts and its provinces ; and we accordingly read of thrones and dominions, and principahties and powers — and 104 KNOWLEDGE OF MAN's MORAL HISTORY whether these terms denote the separate regions of government, or the bemgs who, by a commission granted from the sanctuary of heaven, sit in dele- gated authority over them — even in their eyes the mystery of Christ stands arrayed in all the splendour of unsearchable riches; for we are told that this mystery was revealed for the very intent, that unto the principalities and powers, in heavenly places, might be made known by the church, the manifold wisdom of God. And while we, whose prospect reaches not beyond the narrow limits of the corner we occupy, look on the dealings of God in the world, as carrying in them all the insignificancy of a provincial transaction ; God Himself, whose eye reaches to places which our eye hath not seen, nor our ear heard of, neither hath it entered into the imagination of our heart to conceive, stamps a universality on the whole matter of th^ Christian salvation, by such revelations as the following: — That he is to gather together in one all things in Christ, both which are in heaven, and which are in earth, even in him — and that at the name of Jesus- every knee should bow, of things in heaven, and things in earth, and things under the earth — and that by him God reconciled all things unto himself, whether they be things in earth, or things in heaven. We will not say in how far some of these passages extend the proper effect of that redemption which is by Christ Jesus, to other quarters of the universe of God; but they at least go to estabhsh a widely disseminated knowledge of this transaction amongst the other orders of created intelligence. And they give us a distant glimpse of something more exp» IN DISTANT PLACES OF CREATION. 105 tended. They present a faint opening, through which may be seen some few traces of a wider and a nobler dispensation. They bring before us a dim transparency, on the other side of which the images of an obscure magnificence dazzle indistinctly upon the eye ; and tell us, that in fhe economy of redemption, there is a grandeur commensurate to all that is known of the other works and purposes of the Eternal. They offer us no details; and man, who ought not to attempt a wisdom above that which is written, should never put forth his hand to the drapery of that impenetrable curtain which God, in His mysterious wisdom, has spread over those ways, of which it is but a very small portion that we know of them. But certain it is, that we know so much of them from the Bible ; and the Infidel, with all the pride of his boasted astronomy, knows so little of them, from any power of observation — that the baseless argument of his, on which we have dwelt so long, is overborne in the light of all that positive evidence which God has poured around the record of His own testimony, and even in the light of its more obscure and casual intimations. The minute and variegated details of the way in which this wondrous economy is extended, God has chosen to withhold from us ; but He has oftener than once, made to us a broad and a general announcement of its dignity. He does not tell us, whether the fountain opened in the house of Judah, for sin and for uncleanness, sends forth its healing streams to other worlds than our own. He does not tell us the extent of the atonement. 106 KNOWLEDGE OF MAN'S MORAL HISTORY But He tells us that the atonement itself, known, as it is, among the myriads of the celestial, forms the high song of eternity ; that the Lamb who was slain, is surrounded by the acclamations of one wide and universal empire; that the might of His wondrous achievements, spreads a tide of gratulation over the multitudes who are about His throne ; and that there never ceases to ascend from the wor- shippers of Him, who washed us from our sins in his blood, a voice loud as from numbers with- out number, sweet as from blessed voices uttering joy, when heaven rings jubilee, and loud hosannahs fill the eternal regions. " And I beheld, and I heard the voice of many angels round about the throne ; and the number of them was ten thousand times ten thousand, and thousands of thousands ; saying with a loud voice, Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honour, and glory, and blessing. And every creature which is in heaven, and on earth, and under the earth, and such as are in the sea, and all that are in them, heard I saying. Blessing, and honour, and glory, and power, be unto him that sitteth on the throne, and unto the Lamb, for ever and ever." A king might have the whole of his reign crowded with the enterprises of glory ; and by the might of his arms, and the wisdom of his counsels, might win the first reputation among the potentates of the world ; and be idolized throughout all his provinces, for the wealth and the security that he had spread around them — J:;nd stiii it is conceivable, that by the act of a single day in behalf of a single IN DISTANT PLACES OF CREATION. 107 family; by some soothing visitation of tenderness to a poor and solitary cottage; by some deed of compassion, which conferred enlargement and relief on one despairing sufferer ; by some graceful move- ment of sensibility at a tale of wretchedness ; by some noble effort of self-denial, in virtue of which he subdued his every purpose of revenge, and spread the mantle of a generous oblivion over the fault of the man who had insulted and aggrieved him; above all, by an exercise of pardon so skilfully administered, as that, instead of bringing him down to a state of defencelessness against the provocation of future injuries, it threw a deeper sacredness over him, and stamped a more inviolable dignity than ever on his person and character; — why, on the strength of one such performance, done in a single hour, and reaching no farther in its immediate effects than to one house, or to one individual, it is a most possible thing, that the highest monarch upon earth might draw such a lustre around him, as would eclipse the renown of all his public achievements — and that such a display of mag- nanimity, or of worth, beaming from the secrecy of his familiar moments, might waken a more cordial veneration in every bosom, than all the splendour of his conspicuous history — and that it might pass down to posterity as a more enduring monument of greatness, and raise him farther, by its moral elevation, above the level of ordinary praise ; and when he passes in review before the men of distant ages, may this deed of modest, gentle, unobtrusive virtue, be at all times appealed to, as the xnost sublime and touching niemorial of his name. In like manner did the King eternal, immortal, and invisible, surrounded as He is with the splen- dours of a wide and everlasting monarchy, turn Him to our humble habitation ; and the footsteps of God manifest in the flesh, have been on the narrow spot of ground we occupy; and small though Qur mansion be, amid the orbs and the systems of immensity, hither hath the King of glory bent His mysterious way, and entered the tabernacle of men, and in the disguise of a servant did he sojourn for years under the roof which canopies our obscure and solitary world. Yes, it is but a twinkling atom in the peopled infinity of worlds that are around it — but look to the moral grandeur of the transaction, and not to the material extent of the field upon which it was executed — and from the retirement of our dwelling-place, there may issue forth such a display of the Godhead, as will circulate the glories of His name amongst all his worshippers. Here sin entered. Here was the kind and unwearied beneficence of a Father, repaid by the ingratitude of a whole family. Here the law of God was dis- honoured^, and that too in the face of its proclaimed and unalterable sanctions. Here the mighty con- test of the attributes was ended — and when justice put forth its demands, and truth called for the fulfilment of its warnings, and the immutability of God would not recede by a single iota from any one of its positions, and all the severities He ever uttered against the children of iniquity, seemed to gather into one cloud of threatening vengeance on the tenement that held us — did the visit of the only- begotten Son chase away all these obstacles to the m DISTANT PLACES OF CREATION. 109 triumph of mercy — and humble as the tenement may be, deeply shaded m the obscurity of insigni- ficance as it is, among the stateher mansions which are on every side of it — yet will the recall of its exiled family never be forgotten, and the illustration that has been given here of the mingled grace and majesty of God, will never lose its place among the themes and the acclamations of eternity. And here it may be remarked, that as the earthly king who throws a moral aggrandizement around him by the act of a single day, finds, that after its performance he may have the space of many years for gathering to himself the triumphs of an extended reign — so the King who sits on higb, and with whom one day is as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day, will find, that after the period of that special administration is ended, by which this strayed world is again brought back within the limits of His favoured creation, there is room enough along the mighty track of eternity, for accumulating upon Himself a glory as wide and as universal as is the extent of his dominions. You will allow the most illustrious of this world's potentates, to give some hour of his private history to a deed of cot- tage or of domestic tenderness ; and every time you think of the interesting story, you will feel how sweetly and how gracefully the remembrance of it blends itself with the fame of his public achieve- ments. But still you think that there would not have been room enough for these achievements of his, had much of his time been spent, either amongst the habitations of the poor, or in the retirement of his own family ; and you conceive, that it is because 110 KNOWLEDGE OF MAN's MORAL HISTORY a single day bears so small a proportion to the time of his whole history, that he has been able to combine an interesting display of private worth, with all that brilliancy of exhibition, which has brought him down to posterity in the character of an august and a mighty sovereign. Now apply this to the matter before us. Had the history of our redemption been confined within the limits of a single day, the argument that Infidelity has drawn from the multitude of other worlds would never have been offered. It is true, that ours is but an insignificant portion of the territory of God — but if the attentions by which He has signalized it, had only taken up a single day, this would never have occurred to us as forming any sensible with- draw me nt of the mind of the Deity from the concerns of His vast and universal government. It is the time which the plan of our salvation requires, that startles all those on whom this argument has any impression. It is the time taken up about this paltry world, which they feel to be out of propor- tion to the number of other worlds, and to the im- mensity of the surrounding creation. Now, to meet this impression, we do not insist at present on what we have already brought forward, that God, whose ways are not as oar ways, can have His eye at the same instant on every place, and can divide and diversify His attention into any number of distinct exercises. What we have now to remark is, that the Infidel who urges the astronomical ob- iection to the truth of Christianity, is only looking with half an eye to the principle on which it rests. Carry oat the principle, and the objection vanishes. IN DISTANT PLACES OF CREATION. Ill He looks abroad on the immensity of space, and tells us how impossible it is, that this narrow corner of it can be so distinguished by the attentions of the Deity. Why does he not also look abroad on the magnificence of eternity ; and perceive how the whole period of these peculiar attentions, how the whole time which elapses between the fall of man and the consummation of the scheme of his recovery, is but the twinkling of a moment to the mighty roll of innumerable ages ? The whole interval between the time of Jesus Christ's leaving his Father's abode to sojourn amongst us, to that time when He shall have put all his enemies under His feet, and deliver- ed up the kingdom to God even His Father, that God may be all in all ; the whole of this interval bears as small a proportion to the whole of the Al- mighty's reign, as this solitary world does to the universe around it ; and an infinitely smaller pro- portion than any time, however short, which an earthly monarch spends on some enterprise of private benevolence, does to the whole walk of his public and recorded history. Why then does not the man, who can shoot his conceptions so sublimely abroad over the field of an immensity that knows no limits — why does he not also shoot them forward through the vista of a suc- cession, that ever flows without stop and without termination ? He has stept across the confines of this world's habitation in space, and out of the field which lies on the other side of it has he gathered an argument against the truth of revelation. We feel that we have nothing to do but to step across the confines of this world's history in time, and out 1 1 2 KNOWLEDGE OF MAN's MORAL, &C. of the futurity which lies beyond it can we gather that which will blow the argument to pieces, or stamp upon it all the narrowness of a partial and mistaken calculation. The day is coming when the whole of this wondrous history shall be looked back upon by the eye of remembrance, and be regarded as one incident in the extended annals of creation ; and, with all the illustration and all the glory it has thrown on the character of the Deity, will it be seen as a single step in the evolution of His designs ; and long as the time may appear, from the first act of our redemption to its final accomplishment, and close and exclusive as we may think the attentions of God upon it, it will be found that it has left Him room enough for all His concerns ; and that, on the high scale of eternity, it is but one of those passing and ephemeral transactions which crowd the history of a never-ending administration. THE SYMPATHY FELT FOR M>N. &C. il3 DISCOURSE V. ON THE SYMPATHY THAT IS FELT FOR MAN IN THE DISTANT PLACES OF CREATION. " I say unto you, That likewise joy shall be in heaven over one sinner that repenteth, more than over ninety and nine just persons, which need no repentance.'' — Luke xv. 7. We have already attempted at full length to es- tablish the position, that the infidel argument of astronomers goes to expunge a natural perfection from the character of God, even that wondrous property of His, by \vhich He, at the same instant of time, can bend a close and a careful attention on a countless diversity of objects, and diffuse the intimacy of His power and of His presence, from the greatest to the minutest and most insignificant of them all. We also adverted shortly to this other circumstance, that it went to impair a moral at- tribute of the Deity. It goes to impair the bene- volence of His nature. It is saying much for the benevolence of God, to say, that a single world, or a single system, is not enough for it — that it must have the spread of a mightier region, on which it may pour forth a tide of exuberancy throughout all its provinces — that as far as our vision can carry us, it has strewed immensity with the floating re- ceptacles of life, and has stretched over each of them the garniture of such a sky as mantles our 114 THE SYMPATHY FELT FOR MAN own habitation — and that even from distances which are far beyond the reach of human eye, the songs of gratitude and praise may now be arising to the one God, who sits surrounded by the regards of His one great and universal family. Now it is saying much for the benevolence of God, to say, that it sends forth these wide and distant emanations over the surface of a territory so ample, that the world we inhabit, lying imbed- ded, as it does, amidst so much surrounding great- ness, shrinks into a point that to the universal eye might appear to be almost ' imperceptible. But does it not add to the power and to the perfection of this universal eye, that at the very moment it is taking a comprehensive survey of the vast, it can fasten a steady and undistracted attention on each minute and separate portion of it ; that at the very moment it is looking at all worlds, it can look most pointedly and most intelligently to each of them ; that at the very moment it sweeps the field of im- mensity, it can settle all the earnestness of its regards upon every distinct handbreadth of that field ; that at the very moment at which it embraces the totality of existence, it can send a most thorough and penetrating inspection into each of its details, and into every one of its endless diversities ? We cannot fail to perceive how much this adds to the power of the all-seeing eye. Tell us then, if it do not add as much perfection to the benevolence of God, that while it is expatiating over the vast field of created things, there is not one portion of the field overlooked' by it ; that while it scatters blessings over the whole of an infinite range, it causes them IN DISTANT PLACES OF CREATION. 115 to descend in a shower of plenty on every separate habitation ; that while His arm is underneath and round about all worlds, He enters within the pre- cincts of every one of them, and gives a care and a tenderness to each individual of their teeming po- pulation. Does not the God, who is said to be love, shed over this attribute of his its finest illus- tration — when, while He sits in the highest heaven, and pours out His fulness on the whole subordinate domain of nature and of providence. He bows a pitying regard on the very humblest of His children, and sends His reviving Spirit into every heart, and cheers by His presence every home, and provides for the wants of every family, and watches every sick-bed, and listens to the complaints of every sufferer; and while by his wondrous mind the weight of universal government is borne, is it not more wondrous and more excellent still, that He feels for every sorrow, and has an ear open to every prayer ? " It doth not yet appear what we shall be," says the apostle John, " but we know that when he shall appear, we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is." It is the present lot of the angels, that they behold the face of our Father in heaven, and it would seem as if the effect of this was to form and to perpetuate in them the moral likeness of Him- self, and that they reflect back upon Him His own image, and that thus a diffused resemblance to the Godhead is kept up amongst all those adoring wor- shippers who live in the near and rejoicing contem- plation of the Godhead. Mark then how that peculiar and endearing feature in the goodness of 116 THE SYMPATHY FELT FOR MAN the Deity, which we have just now adverted to — mark how beauteousiy it is retiected downwards upon us in the revealed attitude of angels. From the high eminences of heaven, are they bending a wakeful regard over the men of this sinful world ; and the repentance of every one of them spreads a joy and a high gratulation throughout all its dwelling-places. Put this trait of the angehc character into contrast with the dark and louring spirit of an Infidel. He is told of the multitude of other worlds, and he feels a kindling magnificence in the conception, and he is seduced by an elevation which he cannot carry, and from this airy summit does he look down on the insignificance of the world we occupy, and pronounces it to be unworthy of those visits and of those attentions which we read of in the New Testament. He is unable to wing his upward way along the scale, either of moral or of natural perfection ; and when the wonderful extent of the field is made known to him, over which the wealth of the Divinity is lavished — there he stops, and wilders, and altogether misses this essential perception, that the power and perfection of the Divinity are not more displayed by the mere magnitude of the field, than they are by that minute and exquisite filling up, which leaves not its smallest portions neglected ; but which imprints the fulness of the Godhead upon every one of them ; and proves, by every flower of the pathless desert, as well as by every orb of immensity, how this unsearchable Being can care for all, and provide for all, and, throned in mystery too high for us, can, throughout every instant of time, keep His attentive eye oo IN DISTANT PLACES OF CREATION. . l^ every separate thing that He has formed, and, by an act of His thoughtful and presiding intelligence, can constantly embrace all. But God, compassed about as He is with light inaccessible, and full of glory, lies so hidden from the ken and conception of all our faculties, that the spirit of man sinks exhausted by its attempts to comprehend Him. Could the image of the Supreme be placed direct before the eye of the mind, that flood of splendour, which is ever issuing from Him on all who have the privilege of behold- ing, would not only dazzle, but overpower us. And therefore it is, that we bid you look to the reflection of that image, and thus to take a view of its miti- gated glories, and to gather the lineaments of the Godhead in the face of those righteous angels, who have never thrown away from them the resemblance in which they were created ; and, unable as you are to support the grace and the majesty of that countenance, before which the seers and the pro- phets of other days fell, and became as dead men, let us, before we bring this argument to a close, borrow one lesson of Him whositteth on the throne, from the aspect and the revealed doings of those who are surrounding it. The Infidel, then, as he widens the field of his contemplations, would suffer its every separate ob- ject to die away into forgetfulness : these angels, expatiating as they do, over the range of a loftier universality, are represented as all awake to the history of each of its distinct and subordinate pro- vinces. The Infidel, with his mind afloat among suns and among systems, can find no place in his 118 SYMPATHY FELT FOR MAN already occupied regards, for that humble planet which lodges and accommodates our species : the angels, standing on a loftier summit, and with a mightier prospect of creation before them, are yet represented as looking down on this single world, and attentively marking the every feeling and the every demand of all its families. The Infidel, by sinking us down to an unnoticeable minuteness, would lose sight of our dwelhng-place altogether, and spread a darkening shroud of oblivion over all the concerns and all the interests of men : but the angels will not so abandon us; and undazzled by the whole surpassing grandeur of that scenery which is around them, are they revealed as directing all the fulness of their regard to this our habitation, and casting a longing and a benignant eye on ourselves and on our children. The Infidel will tell us of those worlds which roll afar, and the number of which outstrips the arithmetic of the human un- derstanding — and then, with the hardness of an unfeeling calculation, will he consign the one we occupy, with all its guilty generations, to despair. But He who counts the number of the stars, is set forth to us as looking at every inhabitant among the millions of our species, and by the word of the Gospel beckoning to him with the hand of invitation, and on the very first step of his return, as moving towards him with all the eagerness of the prodigal's father, to receive him back again into that presence from which he had wandered. And as to Jthis world, in favour of which the scowling Infidel will not permit one solitary movement, all heaven is represented as in a stir about its restoration ; and IN DISTANT PLACES OF CREATION. 119 there cannot a single son, or a single daughter, be recalled from sin unto righteousness, without an acclamation of joy Smongst the hosts of Paradise. And we can say it of the humblest and the unwor- thiest of you all, that the eye of angels is upon him, and that his repentance would, at this moment, send forth a wave of delighted sensibility through- out the mighty throng of their innumerable legions. Now, the single question we have to ask, is. On which of the two sides of this contrast do we see most of the impress of heaven ? Which of the two would be most glorifying to God? Which of them carries upon it most of that evidence which lies in its having a celestial character ? For if it be the side of-the Infidel, then must all our hopes expire with the ratifying of that fatal sentence, by which the world is doomed, through its insignificancy, to perpetual exclusion from the attentions of the God- head. We have long been knocking at the door of your understanding, and have tried to find an ad- mittance to it for many an argument. We now make our appeal to the sensibilities of your heart ; and tell us to whom does the moral feeling within it yield its readiest testimony — to the Infidel, who would make this world of ours vanish away into abandonment — or to those angels, who ring through- out all their mansions the hosannas of joy, over every one individual of its repentant population ? And here we cannot omit to take advantage of that opening with which the Saviour has furnished us, by the parables of this chapter, and admits us hito a familiar view of that principle on which the inhabitants of heaven are so awake to the deliverance 120 SYMPATHY FELT FOR MAN and the restoration of our species. To illustrate the difterence in tlie reach of knowledore and of affection, between a man and an angel, let us think of the ditFerence of reach between one man and another. You may often witness a man, who feels neither tenderness nor care beyond the precincts of his own family ; but who, on the strength of those instinctive fondnesses which nature has implanted in his bosom, may earn the character of an amiable father, or a kind husband, or a bright example of all that is soft and endearing in the relations of domestic society. Now conceive him, in addition to all this, to carry his affections abroad, without, at the same time, any abatement of their intensity towards the objects which are at home — that, step- ping across the limits of the house he occupies, he takes an interest in the families which are near him — that he lends his services to the town or the district wherein he is placed, and gives up a portion of his time to the thoughtful labours of a humane and public-spirited citizen. By this enlargement in the sphere of his attention, he has extended his reach ; and, provided he has not done so at the expense of that regard which is due to his family, a thing which, cramped and confined as we are, we are very apt, in the exercise of our humble faculties, to do — I put it to you, whether by extending the reach of his views and his affections, he has not extended his worth and his moral respectability along with it? But we can conceive a still farther enlargement. We can figure to ourselves a man, whose wakeful sympathy overflows the field of his own immediate IN DISTANT PLACES OF CREATION. 121 neighbourhood — to whom the name of country- comes with all the omnipotence of a charm upon his heart, and with all the urgency of a most righteous and resistless claim upon his services — who never hears the name of Britain sounded in his ears, but it stirs up all his enthusiasm in behalf of the worth and the welfare of its people — who gives himself up, with all the devotedness of a passion, to the best and the purest objects of patriotism — and who, spurning away from him the vulgarities of party ambition, separates his life and his labours to the fine pursuit of augmenting the science, or the virtue, or the substantial prosperity of his nation. O I could such a man retain all the tenderness, and fulfil all the duties which home and which neighbourlioo