CHAPTER XCVI.

A MUSICIAN'S WISH EXCITED BY HERSCHEL'S TELESCOPE. SYMPATHY BETWEEN

PETER HOPKINS AND HIS PUPIL. INDIFFERENTISM USEFUL IN ORDINARY

POLITICS, BUT DANGEROUS IN RELIGION.

_Noi intendiamo parlare alle cose che utili sono alla umana vita,

quanto per nostro intendimento si potrà in questa parte comprendere; e

sopra quelle particelle che detto avemo di comporre._

BUSONE DA GUBBIO.

When Miller talked of his friend Herschel's good fortune, and of his

astronomical discoveries, and of his sister, Miss Caroline Herschel,

who, while in his absence she could get possession of his twenty-feet

reflector, amused herself with sweeping the sky, and searching for

comets in the neighbourhood of the sun, the warm-hearted and

musical-minded man used to wish that the science of acoustics had been

advanced in the same degree as that of optics, and that his old

friend, when he gave up music as a profession, had still retained it

as a pursuit; for, had he constructed auditory tubes of proportionate

power and magnitude to his great telescope, “who knows,” said Miller,

“but we might have been enabled to hear the music of the spheres!”

Pythagoras used to listen to that music, when he retired into the

depths of his own being; and, according to his disciples, to him alone

of all mortals has it been audible. But philosophers in modern times

have thought that the existence of this music is more than an

enthusiast's dream, a poet's fiction, or an impostor's fable. They say

it may be inferred as probable from some of Newton's discoveries; and

as a consequence of that principle of harmony which in some parts of

the system of nature is so clearly shown, and in others so

mysteriously indicated.

As for the Doctor, when Miller talked to him of Miss Herschel's

performances in sky-sweeping and comet-hunting, it reminded him of the

nursery song, and he quoted the lines,

Old woman, old woman whither so high?

I'm going to sweep cobwebs off the sky,

And I shall be back again by and bye:

not meaning, however, any disrespect to the lady, nor knowing any

thing of her age.

Herschel would have opened no new field of speculation for Peter

Hopkins, if Hopkins had lived till that day; but he would have

eradicated the last remains of his lurking belief in astrology, by

showing how little those who pretended to read the stars, had seen or

known of them. The old man would have parted with it easily, though he

delighted in obsolete knowledge, and took as much interest in making

himself acquainted with the freaks of the human mind, as with the

maladies of the human frame. He thought that they belonged to the same

study; and the affection which he had so soon contracted for his

pupil, was in no small degree occasioned by his perceiving in him a

kindred disposition. Mr. Danby says, “there is perhaps more of

instinct in our feelings than we are aware of, even in our esteem of

each other;” it is one of the many wise remarks of a thoughtful man.

This intellectual sympathy contributed much to the happiness of both,

and no little to the intellectual progress of the younger party. But

Hopkins's peculiar humour had rendered him indifferent upon some

points of great moment. It had served as a prophylactic against all

political endemics, and this had been a comfortable security for him

in times when such disorders were frequent and violent; and when

though far less malignant than those of the present age, they were far

more dangerous, in individual cases. The reader may perhaps remember

(and if not, he is now reminded of it), how, when he was first

introduced to Peter Hopkins, it was said that any king would have had

in him a quiet subject, and any church a contented conformist. He

troubled himself with no disputations in religion, and was troubled

with no doubts, but believed what he was taught to believe, because he

had been taught to believe it; and owing to the same facility of mind,

under any change of dynasty, or revolution of government that could

have befallen, he would have obeyed the ruling power. Such would

always be the politics of the many, if they were let alone; and such

would always be their religion. As regards the civil point this is the

best condition in which a people can be, both for themselves and their

rulers; and if the laws be good and well administered, the form of

government is good so far as it is causative of those effects, and so

far as it is not causative, it is a trifle for which none but fools

would contest. The proper end of all government being the general

good, provided that good be attained it is infinitesimally

insignificant by what means. That it can be equally attained under any

form, is not asserted here. The argument from the analogy of nature

which might seem to favour such an assertion cannot be maintained. The

Bees have their monarchy, and the Ants their republic; but when we are

told to go to the Ant and the Bee, and consider their ways, it is not

that we should borrow from them formic laws or apiarian policy. Under

the worst scheme of government the desired end would be in a great

degree attainable, if the people were trained up as they ought to be

in the knowledge of their Christian duties; and unless they are so

trained, it must ever be very imperfectly attained under the best.

Forms of government alone deserving to be so called of whatever kind,

are here intended, not those of savage or barbarous times and

countries. Indeed it is only in advanced stages of society that men

are left sufficiently to themselves to become reasonably contented;

and then they may be expected, like our friend Peter Hopkins, to be

better subjects than patriots. It is desirable that they should be so.

For good subjects promote the public good at all times, and it is only

in evil times that patriots are wanted,—such times as are usually

brought on by rash, or profligate and wicked men, who assume the name.

From this political plasticity, in his days and in his station, no

harm could arise either to himself or others. But the same temperament

in religion, though doubtless it may reach the degree of saving faith,

can hardly consist with an active and imaginative mind. It was

fortunate therefore for the Doctor, that he found a religious friend

in Mr. Bacon. While he was at Leyden his position in this respect had

not been favorable. Between the Dutch language and the Burgemeester's

daughter, St. Peter's Kirk had not been a scene of much devotion for

him. Perhaps many Churches in his own Country might have produced no

better effect upon him at that time of life; but the loose opinions

which Bayle had scattered were then afloat in Holland, and even these

were less dangerous to a disposition such as his, than the fierce

Calvinistic tenets by which they were opposed. The former might have

beguiled him into scepticism, the latter might have driven him into

unbelief, if the necessary attention to his professional studies, and

an appetite for general knowledge, which found full employment for all

leisure hours, had not happily prevented him from entering without a

guide upon a field of enquiry, where he would either have been

entangled among thorns, or beset with snares and pitfalls.

True indeed it is that nothing but the most injurious and inevitable

circumstances could have corrupted his natural piety, for it had been

fostered in him by his father's example, and by those domestic lessons

which make upon us the deepest and most enduring impressions. But he

was not armed, as it behoved him to be, against the errors of the age,

neither those which like the pestilence walked in noon day, nor those

which did their work insidiously and in darkness.

Methodism was then in its rampant stage; the founders themselves had

not yet sobered down; and their followers, though more decent than the

primitive Quakers, and far less offensive in their operations, ran,

nevertheless, into extravagancies which made ill-judging magistrates

slow in protecting them against the insults and outrages of the

rabble. The Dissenters were more engaged in controversy amongst

themselves than with the Establishment; their old leaven had at that

time no mass whereon to work, but it was carefully preserved. The

Nonjurors, of all sects (if they may be called a sect), the most

respectable in their origin, were almost extinct. The Roman Catholics

were quiet, in fear of the laws,—no toleration being then professed

for a Church which proclaimed, and every where acted upon, the

principle of absolute intolerance; but there were few populous parts

of the kingdom in which there was not some secular priest, or some

regular, not indeed

Black, white and grey with all their trumpery,

for neither the uniform nor the trumpery were allowed,—but Monk, or

Friar or Jesuit in lay-clothing, employed in secretly administering to

the then decreasing numbers of their own communion, and recruiting

them whenever they safely could; but more generally venturing no

farther than to insinuate doubts, and unsettle the belief, of unwary

and unlearned members of the established religion, for this could

always be done with impunity. And in this they aided, and were aided

by, those who in that age were known by the name, which they had

arrogated to themselves, of Free-thinkers.

There was among the higher classes in those days a fashion of

infidelity, imported from France; Shaftesbury and “the cankered

Bolingbroke” (as Sir Robert Walpole used justly to call that

profligate statesman), were beholden for their reputation more to

this, than to any solidity of talents, or grace of style. It had made

much less way in middle life than in the higher and lower ranks; for

men in middle life, being generally trained up when children in the

way they should go, were less likely to depart from it than those who

were either above or below them in station; indeed they were not

exposed to the same dangers. The principles which were veiled, but not

disguised, by Lord Chesterfield and Horace Walpole, and exposed in

their nakedness by Wilkes and his blasphemous associates at their

orgies, were discussed in the Robin Hood Society, by men who were upon

the same level with the holders-forth at the Rotunda in our own times,

but who differed from them in these respects, that they neither made a

trading profession of impiety, nor ventured into the treason-line.

Any man may graduate in the schools of Irreligion and Mispolicy, if he

have a glib tongue and a brazen forehead; with these qualities, and a

small portion of that talent which is producible on demand, he may

take a wrangler's degree. Such men were often met with in the common

walks of society, before they became audacious enough to show

themselves upon the public theatre, and aspire to form a party in the

state. Peter Hopkins could listen to them just with as much

indifference as he did to a Jacobite, a Nonjuror, or one to whom the

memory of Oliver and the Saints in buff was precious. The Doctor,

before he happily became acquainted with Mr. Bacon, held his peace

when in the presence of such people, but from a different cause: for

though his heart rose against their discourse, and he had an

instinctive assurance that it was equally pernicious and false, he had

not so stored himself with needful knowledge as to be able to confute

the common places of an infidel propagandist. But it has an ill effect

upon others, when a person of sounder judgment and more acquirements

than themselves, remains silent in the company of such talkers; for,

from whatever motive his silence may proceed, it is likely to be

considered, both by the assailants of the truth, and by the listeners,

as an admission of his inability to maintain the better cause. Great

evil has arisen to individuals, and to the community, from allowing

scoffers to go unrebuked in private life; and fallacies and falsehoods

to pass uncontradicted and unexposed in those channels through which

poison is conveyed to the public mind.

The doctor, &c., vol. 3 (of 7) · 第 19 / 28 章