The next process of the modern astronomer is to affirm the innumerable
orbs around us, discovered with the naked eye, or with which we are made
acquainted by the aid of telescopes, to be all stocked with rational
inhabitants. The argument for this is, that an all-wise and omnipotent
creator could never have produced such immense bodies, dispersed through
infinite space, for any meaner purpose, than that of peopling them with
"intelligent beings, formed for endless progression in perfection and
felicity(69)."
(69) See above, Essay XXI.
Now it appears to me, that, in these assertions, the modern astronomers
are taking upon themselves somewhat too boldly, to expound the counsels
of that mysterious power, to which the universe is indebted for its
arrangement and order.
We know nothing of God but from his works. Certain speculative men have
adventured to reason upon the source of all the system and the wonders
that we behold, a priori, and, having found that the creator is all
powerful, all wise, and of infinite goodness, according to their ideas
of power, wisdom and goodness, have from thence proceeded to draw their
inferences, and to shew us in what manner the works of his hands are
arranged and conducted by him. This no doubt they have done with the
purest intentions in the world; but it is not certain, that their
discretion has equalled the boldness of their undertaking.
The world that we inhabit, this little globe of earth, is to us an
infinite mystery. Human imagination is unable to conceive any thing more
consummate than the great outline of things below. The trees and the
skies, the mountains and the seas, the rivers and the springs, appear as
if the design had been to realise the idea of paradise. The freshness of
the air, the silvery light of day, the magnificence of the clouds,
the gorgeous and soothing colouring of the world, the profusion and
exquisiteness of the fruits and flowers of the earth, are as if nothing
but joy and delicious sensations had been intended for us. When we
ascend to the animal creation, the scene is still more admirable and
transporting. The birds and the beasts, the insects that skim the air,
and the fishes that live in the great deep, are a magazine of wonders,
that we may study for ever, without fear of arriving at the end of their
excellence. Last of all, comes the crown of the creation, man, formed
with looks erect, to commerce with the skies. What a masterpiece of
workmanship is his form, while the beauty and intelligence of Gods seems
to manifest itself in his countenance! Look at that most consummate of
all implements, the human hand; think of his understanding, how composed
and penetrating; of the wealth of his imagination; of the resplendent
virtues he is qualified to display! "How wonderful are thy works, Oh
God; in wisdom hast thou created them all!"
But there are other parts of the system in which we live, which do not
seem to correspond with those already enumerated. Before we proceed to
people infinite space, it would be as well, if we surveyed the surface
of the earth we inhabit. What vast deserts do we find in it; what
immense tracks of burning sands! One half of the globe is perhaps
irreclaimable to the use of man. Then let us think of earthquakes and
tempests, of wasting hurricanes, and the number of vessels, freighted
with human beings, that are yearly buried in the caverns of the ocean.
Let us call to mind in man, the prime ornament of the creation, all the
diseases to which his frame is subject,
Convulsions, epilepsies, fierce catarrhs,
Intestine stone and ulcer, colic pangs,
Demoniac frenzy, moping melancholy,
And moon-struck madness, pining atrophy,
Marasmus, and wide-wasting pestilence,
Dropsies, and asthmas, and joint-racking rheums.
The very idea of our killing, and subsisting upon the flesh of animals,
surely somewhat jars with our conceptions of infinite benevolence.
But, when we look at the political history of man, the case is
infinitely worse. This too often seems one tissue of misery and vice.
War, conquest, oppression, tyranny, slavery, insurrections, massacres,
cruel punishments, degrading corporal infliction, and the extinction of
life under the forms of law, are to be found in almost every page. It is
as if an evil demon were let loose upon us, and whole nations, from one
decad of years to another, were struck with the most pernicious madness.
Certain reasoners tell us that this is owing to the freedom of will,
without which man could not exist. But here we are presented with an
alternative, from which it is impossible for human understanding to
escape. Either God, according to our ideas of benevolence, would remove
evil out of the world, and cannot; or he can, and will not. If he has
the will and not the power, this argues weakness; if he has the power
and not the will, this seems to be malevolence.
Let us descend from the great stage of the nations, and look into the
obscurities of private misery. Which of us is happy? What bitter springs
of misery overflow the human heart, and are borne by us in silence! What
cruel disappointments beset us! To what struggles are we doomed, while
we struggle often in vain! The human heart seems framed, as if to be the
capacious receptacle of all imaginable sorrows. The human frame seems
constructed, as if all its fibres were prepared to sustain varieties
of torment. "In the sweat of thy brow shalt thou eat bread, till thou
return to the earth." But how often does that sweat prove ineffective!
There are men of whom sorrow seems to be the destiny, from which they
can never escape. There are hearts, into which by their constitution
it appears as if serenity and content could never enter, but which
are given up to all the furious passions, or are for ever the prey of
repining and depression.
Ah, little think the gay, licentious proud,
Whom pleasure, power and affluence surround,
How many pine in want! How many shrink
Into the sordid hut, how many drink
The cup of grief, and eat the bitter bread
Of misery!
And, which aggravates the evil, almost all the worst vices, the most
unprincipled acts, and the darkest passions of the human mind, are bred
out of poverty and distress. Satan, in the Book of Job, says to the
Almighty, "Thou hast blessed the work of thy servant, and his substance
is increased in the land. But put forth thy hand now, and take away all
that he hath; and he will curse thee to thy face." The prayer of Agar
runs, "Feed me with food convenient for me; lest I be poor, and steal,
and take the name of my God in vain."
It is with a deep knowledge of the scenes of life, that the prophet
pronounces, "My thoughts are not your thoughts; neither are your ways my
ways, saith the Lord."
All reflecting persons, who have surveyed the state of the world in
which we live, have been struck with the contrarieties of sublunary
things; and many hypotheses have been invented to solve the enigma. Some
have maintained the doctrine of two principles, Oromasdes and Arimanius,
the genius of good and of evil, who are perpetually contending with each
other which shall have the greatest sway in the fortunes of the world,
and each alternately acquiring the upper hand. Others have inculcated
the theory of the fall of man, that God at first made all things
beautiful and good, but that man has incurred his displeasure, and been
turned out of the paradise for which he was destined. Hence, they say,
has arisen the corruption of our nature. "There is none that cloth good,
no, not one. That every mouth may be stopped, and all the world become
guilty before God." But the solution that has been most generally
adopted, particularly in later days, is that of a future state of
retribution, in which all the inequalities of our present condition
shall be removed, the tears of the unfortunate and the sufferer shall be
wiped from their eyes, and their agonies and miseries compensated. This,
in other words, independently of the light of revelation, is to infer
infinite wisdom and benevolence from what we see, and then, finding
the actual phenomena not to correspond with our theories, to invent
something of which we have no knowledge, to supply the deficiency.
The astronomer however proceeds from what we see of the globe of earth,
to fashion other worlds of which we have no direct knowledge. Finding
that there is no part of the soil of the earth into which our wanderings
can penetrate, that is not turned to the account of rational and happy
beings, creatures capable of knowing and adoring their creator, that
nature does nothing in vain, and that the world is full of the evidences
of his unmingled beneficence, according to our narrow and imperfect
ideas of beneficence, (for such ought to be our premises) we proceed to
construct millions of worlds upon the plan we have imagined. The earth
is a globe, the planets are globes, and several of them larger than our
earth: the earth has a moon; several of the planets have satellites: the
globe we dwell in moves in an orbit round the sun; so do the planets:
upon these premises, and no more, we hold ourselves authorised to affirm
that they contain "myriads of intelligent beings, formed for endless
progression in perfection and felicity." Having gone thus far, we next
find that the fixed stars bear a certain resemblance to the sun; and, as
the sun has a number of planets attendant on him, so, we say, has each
of the fixed stars, composing all together "ten thousand times ten
thousand" habitable worlds.
All this is well, so long as we view it as a bold and ingenious
conjecture. On any other subject it would be so regarded; and we
should consider it as reserved for the amusement and gratification of
a fanciful visionary in the hour, when he gives up the reins to his
imagination. But, backed as it is by a complexity of geometrical right
lines and curves, and handed forth to us in large quartos, stuffed with
calculations, it experiences a very different fortune. We are told that,
"by the knowledge we derive from astronomy, our faculties are enlarged,
our minds exalted, and our understandings clearly convinced, and
affected with the conviction, of the existence, wisdom, power, goodness,
immutability and superintendency of the supreme being; so that, without
an hyperbole, 'an undevout astronomer is mad(e)(70).'"
(70) Ferguson, Astronomy, Section I.
It is singular, how deeply I was impressed with this representation,
while I was a schoolboy, and was so led to propose a difficulty to the
wife of the master. I said, "I find that we have millions of worlds
round us peopled with rational creatures. I know not that we have any
decisive reason for supposing these creatures more exalted, than the
wonderful species of which we are individuals. We are imperfect; they
are imperfect. We fell; it is reasonable to suppose that they have
fallen also. It became necessary for the second person in the trinity to
take upon him our nature, and by suffering for our sins to appease
the wrath of his father. I am unwilling to believe that he has less
commiseration for the inhabitants of other planets. But in that case it
may be supposed that since the creation he has been making a circuit of
the planets, and dying on the cross for the sins of rational creatures
in uninterrupted succession." The lady was wiser than I, admonished me
of the danger of being over-inquisitive, and said we should act more
discreetly in leaving those questions to the judgment of the Almighty.
But thus far we have reasoned only on one side of the question. Our
pious sentiments have led us to magnify the Lord in all his works, and,
however imperfect the analogy, and however obscure the conception we
can form of the myriads of rational creatures, all of them no doubt
infinitely varied in their nature, their structure and faculties, yet to
view the whole scheme with an undoubting persuasion of its truth. It is
however somewhat in opposition to the ideas of piety formed by our less
adventurous ancestors, that we should usurp the throne of God,
Snatch from his hand the balance and the rod,
and, by means of our telescopes and our calculations, penetrate into
mysteries not originally intended for us. According to the received
Mosaic chronology we are now in the five thousand eight hundred and
thirty-fifth year from the creation: the Samaritan version adds to
this date. It is therefore scarcely in the spirit of a Christian, that
Herschel talks to us of a light, which must have been two millions of
years in reaching the earth.
Moses describes the operations of the Almighty, in one of the six
days devoted to the work of creation, as being to place "lights in the
firmament of heaven, to divide the day from the night, to be for signs
and for seasons, and for days and years, and to give light upon the
earth; two great lights, the greater to rule the day, and the lesser the
night; and the stars also." And Christ, prophesying what is to happen
in the latter days, says, "The sun shall be darkened, and the moon shall
not give her light, and the stars shall fall from heaven." Whatever
therefore be the piety of the persons, who talk to us of "ten thousand
times ten thousand worlds, all peopled with rational creatures," it
certainly is not a piety in precise accordance with the Christian
scriptures.