destruction and renovation of the earth, as an abode of the righteous, may
be thus stated: Heaven is an unchanging state; but a world which has been
burned up and melted, even if we might suppose spiritual beings to dwell
upon it, must undergo still further change. The radiation of its heat
would form a crust over its surface; the waters, dissipated into vapor,
would be recondensed; volcanic agency would ridge up the crust into
mountains and valleys; and, in short, geological agencies would at length
form such a surface, so far as rocks and soil are concerned, as we now
tread upon. And even though organic beings should not be again placed upon
it, those changes would proceed, till, perhaps, another and another great
catastrophe by fire might pass over it; nor can we say where these
mutations would end. Can we believe such a world to be heaven?
Here, again, as in the last objection, it appears to me, the main
difficulty lies in our judging of the future spiritual body by that
organism which we now inhabit. Heaven is, indeed, an unchanging state of
happiness and holiness. But does it, therefore, follow that there can be
no change in its material form and aspect? I have already shown that the
spiritual body may be of such a composition that no change of temperature,
of place or constitution, in surrounding bodies, can at all affect it. If
the soul could be happy in one set of physical circumstances while in such
a tenement, it might be happy in any other circumstances with which we are
acquainted. But it does not follow that the happiness of the soul might
not be increased by the changes of the material world around it. What is
it on earth that affords the greatest amount of happiness derived from the
external world? It is the immense variety of creation, produced chiefly by
chemical and mechanical agencies. These changes afford us the most
striking exhibitions of the wisdom, power, and benevolence of the Deity,
within our knowledge; and why may not analogous, or still more wonderful
changes, and greater variety, give still higher conceptions of the divine
character to the inhabitants of heaven, and excite a purer and a stronger
love? And to study that character will form, I doubt not, the grand
employment of heaven. Who can tell what depths of knowledge may there be
laid open into the internal constitution of matter, and its combinations,
and especially its union with spirit! And what surer means of bringing out
these developments than change, constant and everlasting change? For who
can set limits to those mutations which an infinite God can produce upon
the matter of this vast universe? It is easy to see that they may be
literally infinite.
Once more. We have seen that the geological changes which our world has
hitherto undergone have been an improvement of its condition, and that
each successive economy has been a brighter exhibition of divine wisdom
and benevolence: Shall this progress be arrested when the present economy
closes? We know that the righteous will forever advance in holiness and
happiness. Why may not a part of that increase depend upon their
introduction into higher and higher economies through eternal ages? May
not this be one of the modes in which new developments of the character of
God will open upon them in the world of bliss?
The Scriptures represent the material aspect of the new heavens and the
new earth, when first the righteous enter upon them, to be one of
surpassing glory. But why may not other developments await them in the
round of eternal ages, as their expanding faculties are able to understand
and appreciate them?
The greater the variety of new scenes in the material world which shall be
presented to the mind, such as an infinite Deity shall devise, the more
intense the happiness of their contemplations; and who can set limits to
the permutations which such a being can produce, even upon matter? I can
form no conjecture as to the nature of those new developments; nor do I
believe they could be understood in our present state. I feel as if those
formed too low an estimate of the new heavens and the new earth, who
imagine a repetition there of the most curious organic structures, the
most splendid flowers and fruits, and the most enchanting landscapes of
the present world: I fancy that scenes far more enchanting, and objects
far more glorious, will meet the soul at its first entrance upon the new
earth, even though to mortal vision it should present only an ocean of
fire. I imagine a thousand new inlets into the soul--nay, I think of it as
all eye, all ear, all sensation; now plunging deeper into the
infinitesimal parts of matter than the microscope can carry us, and now
soaring away, perhaps on the waves of the mysterious ether, far beyond the
ken of the telescope. And if such is the first entrance into heaven, who
can conjecture what new fields and new glories shall open before the mind,
and fill it with ecstasy, as it flies onward without end! But I dare not
indulge further in these hypothetical, yet fascinating thoughts; yet let
us never forget, that in a very short time, far shorter than we imagine,
all the scenes of futurity will be to us a thrilling reality. We shall
then know in a moment how much of truth there is in these speculations.
But if they all prove false, fully confident am I that the scenes which
will open upon us will surpass our liveliest conceptions. The glass
through which we now see darkly will be removed, and face to face shall we
meet eternal glories. Then shall we learn that our present bodily organs,
however admirably adapted to our condition here, were in fact clogs upon
the soul, intended to fetter its free range, that we might the more richly
enjoy the liberty of the sons of God, and expatiate in the spiritual body,
_the building of God, the house not made with hands, eternal in the
heavens_.
Let us, then, live continually under the influence of the scenes that
await us beyond the grave. They will thus become familiar to us and we
shall appreciate their infinite superiority to the objects that so deeply
interest us on earth. We shall be led to look forward even with strong
desire, in spite of the repulsive aspect of death, to that state where the
soul will be freed from her prison-house of flesh and blood, and can range
in untiring freedom through the boundless fields of knowledge and
happiness that are in prospect. Then shall we learn to despise the low
aims and contracted views of the sensualist, the demagogue, and the
worldling. High and noble thoughts and aspirations will lift our souls
above the murky atmosphere of this world, and, while yet in the body, we
shall begin to breathe the empyreal air of the new heavens, and to gather
the fruits of the tree of life in the new earth, where righteousness only
shall forever dwell.
LECTURE XII.
THE TELEGRAPHIC SYSTEM OF THE UNIVERSE.
In order to impress some important truth or transaction, men have
sometimes represented surrounding inanimate objects as looking on and
witnessing the scene, or listening to the words, and ready ever afterwards
to open their mouth to testify to the facts, should man deny them. I know
of no writings from which to derive so striking an illustration of these
strong figurative representations as the sacred Scriptures.
Take, for a first example, the solemn covenant entered into between
Jehovah and the Israelites, in the time of Joshua. To fix the transaction
as firmly as possible in the minds of the fickle people, _he took a great
stone and set it up there under an oak that was by the sanctuary of the
Lord. And Joshua said unto all the people, Behold, this stone shall be a
witness unto us. For it hath heard all the words of the Lord which he
spake unto us. It shall, therefore, be a witness unto you, lest ye deny
your God._
In a second example, the prophet Habakkuk describes the insatiable
wickedness of the Chaldeans; and addressing the nation as an individual,
he says, _Thou hast consulted shame to thy house by cutting off many
people, and hast sinned against thy soul. For the stone shall cry out of
the wall, and the beam out of the timber shall answer it._ Such
abominations had aroused even the most insensible part of creation, the
very timber and the stone, to life and indignation.
In a third example, the whole multitude of Jews had just spread their
garments upon the ground for Christ to ride over, they meanwhile crying
out, _Blessed be the King that cometh in the name of the Lord. Peace in
heaven and glory in the highest._ But some of the Pharisees said, _Master,
rebuke thy disciples; and he answered and said unto them, If these should
hold their peace, the stones would immediately cry out._ If man refused to
do homage to the King of glory, when he came among them, the rocks, more
sensible, would break forth in his praises.
The discoveries of modern science, however, show us that there is a
literal sense in which the material creation receives an impression from
all our words and actions that can never be effaced; and that nature,
through all time, is ever ready to bear testimony of what we have said and
done. Men fancy that the wave of oblivion passes over the greater part of
their actions. But physical science shows us that those actions have been
transfused into the very texture of the universe, so that no waters can
wash them out, and no erosions, comminution, or metamorphoses, can
obliterate them.
The principle which I advance in its naked form is this: _Our words, our
actions, and even our thoughts, make an indelible impression on the
universe._ Thrown into a poetic form, this principle converts creation
Into a vast sounding gallery;
Into a vast picture gallery;
And into a universal telegraph.
This proposition I shall endeavor to sustain by an appeal to
well-established principles of science. Yet, since some of these
principles are not the most common and familiar, and have not been
applied, except in part, to this subject, I must be more technical in
their explanation than I could wish, and more minute in the details.
The grand point, however, on which the whole subject turns, is the
doctrine of reaction. By this is meant the mutual or reciprocal action of
different things upon one another. Thus, if a body fall to the earth, the
earth reacts upon it, and stops it, or throws it back. If sulphuric acid
be poured upon limestone, a mutual action ensues; the acid acts on the
stone, and the stone reacts upon the acid, and a new compound is produced.
If light fall upon a solid body, the body reacts upon the light, which it
sends back to the eye with an image of itself. These are examples of what
is meant by reaction, or the reciprocal action of different substances
upon one another. But it is not every kind of reaction that will prove a
permanent impression to be made upon the universe by our conduct. Hence we
must be more specific.
_In the first place, the principle is proved and illustrated by the
doctrine of mechanical reaction._
From the principle, long since settled in mechanics, that action and
reaction are equal, it will follow that every impression which man makes
by his words, or his movements, upon the air, the waters, or the solid
earth, will produce a series of changes in each of those elements which
will never end. The word which is now going out of my mouth causes
pulsations or waves in the air, and these, though invisible to human eyes,
expand in every direction until they have passed around the whole globe,
and produced a change in the whole atmosphere; nor will a single
circumgyration complete the effect; but the sentence which I am now
uttering shall alter the whole atmosphere through all future time. So
that, as Professor Babbage remarks, to whom we are indebted for the first
moral application of this mechanical principle, "the air is one vast
library, on whose pages are forever written all that man has ever said, or
woman whispered." Not a word has ever escaped from mortal lips, whether
for the defence of virtue or the perversion of the truth, not a cry of
agony has ever been uttered by the oppressed, not a mandate of cruelty by
the oppressor, not a false and flattering word by the deceiver, but it is
registered indelibly upon the atmosphere we breathe. And could man command
the mathematics of superior minds, every particle of air thus set in
motion could be traced through all its changes, with as much precision as
the astronomer can point out the path of the heavenly bodies. No matter
how many storms have raised the atmosphere into wild commotion, and
whirled it into countless forms; no matter how many conflicting waves have
mixed and crossed one another; the path of each pulsation is definite, and
subject to the laws of mathematics. To follow it requires, indeed, a power
of analysis superior to human; but we can conceive it to be far inferior
to the divine.
The same thing is true of the waters. No wave has ever been raised on
their bosom, no keel has ever ploughed their surface, which has not sent
an influence and a change into every ocean, and modified every wave, that
has rolled in upon the farthest shores. As the vessel crosses the deep,
the parted waves close in, and every trace of disturbance soon disappears
from human vision. Nevertheless, it is certain that every track thus
furrowed in the waters has sent an influence through their entire mass,
such as is calculable by distinct formulae; and it may be that glorified
minds, by the principles of celestial mathematics, can as easily trace out
the paths of the unnumbered vessels that have crossed the waters, as the
astronomer can the paths of the planets or the comets.
The solid earth, too, is alike tenacious of every impression we make upon
it; not a footprint of man or beast is marked upon its surface, that does
not permanently change the whole globe. Every one of its countless atoms
will retain and exhibit an infinitesimal, but a real, effect through all
coming time. It is too minute, indeed, for the cognizance of the human
senses. But in a higher sphere there may be inlets of perception acute
enough to trace it through all its bearings, and thus render every atom of
the globe a living witness to the actions of every living being.
In view of these facts, we cannot regard the glowing language of Babbage
an exaggeration, when he says, "The soul of the negro, whose fettered
body, surviving the living charnel-house of his infected prison, was
thrown into the sea to lighten the ship, that his Christian master might
escape the limited justice at length assigned by civilized man to crimes
whose profit had long gilded their atrocity, will need, at the last great
day of human accounts, no living witness of his earthly agony: when man
and all his race shall have disappeared from the face of our planet, ask
every particle of air still floating over the unpeopled earth, and it will
record the cruel mandate of the tyrant. Interrogate every wave which
breaks unimpeded on ten thousand desolate shores, and it will give
evidence of the last gurgle of the waters which closed over the head of
his dying victim. Confront the murderer with every corporeal atom of his
immolated slave, and in its still quivering movements he will read the
prophet's denunciation of the prophet king."
The distinguished mathematical professor from whom I have just quoted
limits the effects of this mathematical reaction to this globe and its
atmosphere. But if, as the philosophers now generally admit, there is a
subtile and extremely elastic medium pervading all space, why must they
not extend to other worlds, yea, to the whole universe? Without an
accurate acquaintance with the facts, indeed, it will seem a mere
extravagant imagination to say that our most trivial word or action sends
a thrill throughout the whole material universe; but I see not why sober
and legitimate science does not conduct us to this conclusion. Nay, still
further, it teaches us that the vibrations and changes which our words and
actions produce upon the universe shall never cease their action and
reaction till materialism be no more.
We venture, then, to push this thought of the ingenious mathematician into
another sphere, which he did not enter. The majority, probably, of the
ablest expounders of the Bible have maintained, as previously shown, that
the apostle Peter most unequivocally teaches us that the new heavens, or
atmosphere, and the new earth, wherein dwelleth righteousness, are merely
our present earth and atmosphere, melted and burnt by the fires of the
last day, and fitted up anew,--a second and a lovelier paradise,--to be
the everlasting abode of holiness and happiness. Indeed, to attempt to fix
any other meaning upon Peter's language makes of it a most absurd jumble
of literal and figurative expressions, and produces an inversion of
chronological events. But, admitting the literal meaning of the apostle to
be the true one, then those reactions, produced by our words and conduct
upon the present world, shall not be destroyed by the fires of the last
day, but reappear in the new economy, and modify the pulsations of the new
heavens and the new earth through all eternity.
But even though heaven should be in some other part of the universe, and
not this earth refitted, yet, if it be a material residence, why, on the
principles already explained, should it not be reached and affected by
those vibrations which the laws of mathematics assure us are now
spreading from each individual, as a centre, through the whole universe?
The conflagration of the earth will alter its chemical constitution, and
convert matter into new forms; but the mechanical character of the atoms
will not be destroyed; and when they emerge from the final catastrophe, in
new and brighter forms, they may still bear and exhibit the impress of
every word and every action which they now receive.
Such representations as these, I am aware, will, upon first thought, seem
to most minds little better than the dreams of fancy, although founded
upon the laws of mathematics. For how soon does every trace disappear from
the earth of the most terrible convulsions and the mightiest human
efforts! The shout of countless multitudes, the thunder and the crash of
battle, and even the volcano's bellowing, are soon succeeded by unbroken
silence; and we cannot discover a trace of any of those countless scenes
of noise and convulsion that have been acted upon the world's busy stage.
How practically absurd, then, to imagine that any influence goes out from
the feeble efforts of individuals, that can be recognized, either now or
hereafter, on the wide field of the universe!
Such objections as these, however, are based upon the impression, of which
it is hard to divest ourselves, that our present means of distinguishing
the effects of physical forces are as perfect as we can hope for in
eternity. And yet, who will doubt that, when our present gross bodies
shall be laid aside, the soul, looking forth from a spiritual body, with
quickened powers and unobstructed vision, shall penetrate a new world in
the infinitesimal parts of creation? What absurdity in the supposition
that then the minutest movement among the atoms, which can now be
discovered only by the mathematics of quantities infinitely small, may
then stand out as distinctly to our inspection as do now the features of
the landscape? What absurdity in the supposition that, even now, there are
finite minds in the universe who possess this quickened power of
perception, and, though in distant worlds, do actually know what is
passing here by the vibrations which our words and actions produce upon
elastic matter?
Thus far I have spoken of the influence of our words and actions only upon
the material universe, although the principle with which I started
includes thoughts also. But are not actions merely the external
manifestation of thoughts and purposes? and, therefore, is not thought the
efficient agency that impresses the universe? I shall also attempt to show
that there are other modes in which the intellect may do this, aside from
ordinary words and actions.
But I proceed to the second proof of the general principle. _And I derive
it from what may be called optical reactions; that is, the reaction of
light and the substances on which it impinges._ These exert such an
influence upon it, that, when it is thrown back from them, and enters the
organs of vision, or even a transparent lens, with a screen behind it, it
produces an image of those objects; in other words, what we call vision.
Now, it is this fact, in connection with the progressive motion of light,
that forms the basis of this branch of the argument. Though light moves
with such immense velocity, that, for all practical purposes on earth, it
is instantaneous, yet, in fact, it does occupy a little more than a second
for every two hundred thousand miles which it passes over. Hence a flash
of lightning occurring on earth would not be visible on the moon till a
second and a quarter afterwards; on the sun, till eight minutes; at the
planet Jupiter, when at its greatest distance from us, till fifty-two
minutes; on Uranus, till two hours; on Neptune, till four hours and a
quarter; on the star of Vega, of the first magnitude, till forty-five
years; on a star of the eighth magnitude, till one hundred and eighty
years; and on a star of the twelfth magnitude, till four thousand years;
and stars of this magnitude are visible through telescopes; nor can we
doubt that, with better instruments, stars of far less magnitude might be
seen; so that we may confidently say that this flash of lightning would
not reach the remotest heavenly body till more than six thousand years--a
period equal to that which has elapsed since man's creation.
Now, suppose that, on these different heavenly bodies, beings exist with
organs of vision sufficiently acute to discern a flash of lightning on
earth, or, rather, to see all the scenes on that hemisphere of our world
that is turned towards them; it is obvious that, on the remotest star, the
earth would be seen, at this moment, just coming forth from the Creator's
hand, in all the freshness of Eden's glories, with our first parents in
the beauty of innocence and happiness, and all the beasts of the field and
the fowls of the air playing around them. On a star of the twelfth
magnitude would be seen the world as it showed itself four thousand years
ago; on a star of the eighth magnitude, as it appeared one hundred and
eighty years ago; and so on to the moon, where would be seen the
occurrences of the present moment. And since there are ten thousand times
ten thousand worlds, scattered through these extremes of distance, is it
not clear that, taking them all together, they do at this moment contain a
vast panorama of the world's entire history, since the hour when the
morning stars sang together, and the sons of God shouted for joy on
creation's morning?
"Thus," says the unknown author of a little work entitled "The Stars and
the Earth," in which these ideas were first developed--"thus the universe
encloses the _pictures_ of the past, like an indestructible and
incorruptible record, containing the purest and the clearest truth; and as
sound propagates itself in the air, wave after wave, or, to take a still
clearer example, as thunder and lightning are in reality simultaneous, but
in the storm the distant thunder follows at the interval of minutes
[seconds?] after the flash, so, in like manner, according to our ideas,
the pictures of every occurrence propagate themselves into the distant
ether, upon the wings of the ray of light; and although they become weaker
and smaller, yet, in immeasurable distance, they still have color and
form; and as every thing possessing color and form is visible, so must
these pictures also be said to be visible, however impossible it may be
for the human eye to perceive it with the hitherto discovered optical
instruments."