applied to God; for who will doubt that his eye can take in at a glance
that universe which he has made? And to do that is to have before him the
entire daily history of our globe; nay, probably, also, of every other
world. Indeed, such a supposition affords us a lively conception of the
divine omniscience, since we have only to suppose this panorama of the
indefinite past to extend indefinitely into the future, and the infinite
picture will also be present at this moment before the divine mind.
But is the supposition an absurdity, that there may be in the universe
created beings, with powers of vision acute enough to take in all these
pictures of our world's history, as they make the circuit of the
numberless suns and planets that lie embosomed in boundless space? Suppose
such a being at this moment upon a star of the twelfth magnitude, with an
eye turned toward the earth. He might see the deluge of Noah, just
sweeping over the surface. Advancing to a nearer star, he would see the
patriarch Abraham going out, not knowing whither he went. Coming still
nearer, the vision of the crucified Redeemer would meet his gaze. Coming
nearer still, he might alight upon worlds where all the revolutions and
convulsions of modern times would fall upon his eye. Indeed, there are
worlds enough and at the right distances, in the vast empyrean, to show
him every event in human history.
We may proceed a step farther, and inquire whether such an exaltation of
vision as we have supposed may not be hereafter enjoyed by the glorified
human mind when it passes into the spiritual body. We can hardly believe
such a transformation possible. But suppose an individual born blind to
grow up to manhood and intelligence without ever having been told any
thing about vision. Then suppose the oculist to attempt an operation for
the restoration of his sight, and, to prepare him for the transition, let
the wonders of human vision be described to him, and he be told that, by a
few moments of suffering, he can be put in possession of this astonishing
faculty; would it not appear as improbable to him as it now does to us, to
imagine that our vision can be so clarified and exalted, that we can
discern the events which are passing in distant worlds as easily as we now
do those immediately around us.
But if such a power of reading human history, from its panorama spread out
on the face of the universe, be now possessed by unfallen beings in other
spheres, what idea must they form of the character of man? At one time,
they must regard the race as given up to hopeless rebellion, and the
inflictions of vindictive justice. And then, anon, they would see the
sceptre of mercy stretched out, and a few faithful soldiers marching under
the banner of virtue and fighting the battles of the Lord. Surely they
would need a revelation to understand the anomalies and solve the
paradoxes which passed under their eyes. They would wonder why a world so
filled with tokens of divine goodness, yet so disfigured by wickedness in
every form, had not long since been struck from its orbit by the hand of
divine justice.
Thus far, in the present argument, I have been following, for the most
part, in the track marked out by others. But I now venture to advance into
regions hitherto untrodden for any such purpose; yet I trust that the
light which we may find to guide our steps may not prove the bewildering
gleam of an _ignis fatuus_, but the lamp of true science.
_My third argument is based upon electric reactions._
Whatever may be the true nature of electricity, it is convenient, and
probably leads to no error, to speak of it as a fluid, or rather two
fluids. For we find two kinds of electricity, denominated positive and
negative; and it is a general fact, that, when a body is brought into one
electrical state, it throws other bodies around it into the opposite
state, by a power called induction. Those bodies, whose electrical
condition has been thus altered, will act on others lying in a remoter
circle, and these upon others, and so on, we cannot tell how widely, for
we have reason to suppose that electricity is a power that extends through
all nature. It can hardly be doubted that is the force which constitutes
what we call chemical affinity by which the constituent parts of all
compound bodies are held together; and in those stony and metallic masses,
that occasionally fall from the heavens, we have proof that this same
power holds sway in other worlds; for the most reasonable supposition is,
that these meteors move like the planets through the regions of celestial
space, and give us some idea of the constitution of planetary worlds. If
so, the same chemical laws, and, of course, the same chemical forces,
prevail there as in our planet. Indeed, the uniformity of nature would
lead us to such a conclusion were there no facts like those of meteors to
teach it directly. It follows, from these principles, that, whenever we
change the electrical condition of bodies around us, we start a movement
to whose onward march we can assign no limits but the material universe.
These waves of influence consist of a series of attractions and
repulsions, and are independent of the mechanical reactions already
considered, which are produced by onward impulses alone.
Now, a change in the electric condition of bodies is produced often by the
slightest mechanical, chemical, thermal, physiological, and probably even
mental change in man. The usual way of exciting currents of electricity is
by friction. But chemical action, as in the galvanic battery, produces a
still more energetic and uninterrupted current. The slightest change of
temperature, also, may disturb the electric equilibrium perceptibly. It
has been of late ascertained, likewise, that a change of physiological
condition--that is, a change as to healthy and normal action--affects the
electricity of the parts of the system, and consequently of surrounding
bodies. Substitute a man in the place of a galvanic battery, making his
two hands the electrodes, and there will go out from him an electric
current, that shall sensibly deflect the needle of a galvanometer, an
instrument employed for showing the presence of small portions of
electricity.
Nay, further, it seems to be most probably established as a fact in
science, that a man, in the condition above specified, by a simple act of
his will upon his muscles, by which those of one arm only shall be
braced, will thereby send an electrical current of one sort through the
galvanometer, while a like volition, which shall brace the muscles of the
other arm will set in motion an opposite current.
It is also ascertained, that of the two sorts of nerves which supply every
muscle, the nerve of sensibility is a positive pole of a Voltaic circuit,
while the nerve of motion, or the muscle into which it passes, is a
negative pole. So that the sensor nerves act as electric telegraphs to
carry the sensations to the brain, and inform it what is needed, while the
motor nerves bring back the volition to the muscles--the brain acting as a
galvanic battery, very much like the electric organs of certain fishes.
From these statements it clearly follows, that, besides the mechanical
effects produced by our actions, there is also an electric influence
excited and propagated by almost every muscular effort, every chemical
change within us, every variation in the state of health, or vigor, and
especially by every mental effort; for no thought, probably, can pass
through the mind which does not alter the physiological, chemical, and
electric condition of the brain, and consequently of the whole system. The
stronger the emotion, the greater the change; so that those great mental
efforts, and those great decisions of the will, which bring along
important moral effects, do also make the strongest impression upon the
material universe. We cannot say how widely, by means of electric force,
they reach; but if so subtile a power does, as we have reason to suppose,
permeate all space, and all solid matter, there may be no spot in the
whole universe where the knowledge of our most secret thoughts and
purposes, as well as our most trivial outward act, may not be transmitted
on the lightning's wing; and it may be, that, out of this darkened world,
there may not be found any spot where beings do not exist with
sensibilities keen enough to learn, through electric changes, what we are
doing and thinking.
If there be no absurdity in supposing that even the mechanical influence
of our actions may be felt throughout the universe, still less is it
absurd to infer the same results from electric agencies.
It would seem, from recent discoveries, that electricity has a more
intimate connection with mental operations than any other physical force.
If not identical with the nervous influence, it seems to be employed by
the mind to accompany that influence to every part of the system; and the
greater the mental excitement, the more energetic the electric movement.
It seems to us a marvellous discovery, which enables man to convey and
register his thoughts at the distance of thousands of miles by the
electric wires. Should it excite any higher wonder to be told, that, by
means of this same power, all our thoughts are transmitted to every part
of the universe, and can be read there by the neuter perceptions of other
beings as easily as we can read the types or hieroglyphics of the electric
telegraph? Yet what a startling thought is it, that the most secret
workings of our minds and hearts are momentarily spread out in legible
characters over the whole material universe! nay, that they are so woven
into the texture of the universe, that they will constitute a part of its
web and woof forever! To believe and realize this is difficult; to deny it
is to go in the face of physical science. How many things we do believe
that are sustained by evidence far less substantial!
_My fourth argument in support of the general principle is based upon
odylic reaction._
And what is odylic reaction? What is odyle? you will doubtless inquire.
It is, indeed, a branch of science emphatically new. I know of no account
of it, save what appears in a late work, of nearly five hundred pages, by
Baron Reichenbach, of Vienna, entitled "Researches on Magnetism,
Electricity, Heat, Light, Crystallization, and Chemical Attraction, in
their Relations to the Vital Force," translated by William Gregory,
professor of chemistry in the University of Edinburgh. This writer
endeavors to show, by a great number of experiments, that there exists in
all bodies, and throughout the universe, a peculiar principle, analogous
to magnetism, electricity, light, and heat, yet distinct from them all, to
which he gives the name of _odyle_. It is most manifest in powerful
magnets; next in crystals, and exists in the human body, the sun, moon,
stars, heat, electricity, chemical action, and, in fact, the whole
material universe. Those who are most sensitive to this influence are
persons of feeble health, especially somnambulists; but it is found that
about one third of individuals, taken promiscuously, and many in good
health, are sensible of it; and it was by a series of observations on
persons of all classes and conditions for years, that the facts have been
elicited. The inquiry seems to have been conducted with great fairness and
scientific skill, and the author has the confidence of several of the most
distinguished scientific men in Europe. If there be no mistake in the
results, they promise to explain philosophically many popular
superstitions, and also the phenomena of mesmerism, without a resort to
superhuman agency, either satanic or angelic. They yield, also, an
interesting support to the principle of this lecture. Says Baron
Reichenbach, "There is nothing in these observations [which he had just
detailed] that, after the contents of the preceding treatises, can much
surprise us; but they are certainly a fine additional confirmation of what
has been stated in regard to the sun and moon, and also of the fact that
the whole material universe, even beyond our earth, acts on us with the
very same kind of influence which resides in all terrestrial objects; and
lastly, it shows that we stand in a connection of mutual influence,
hitherto unsuspected, with the universe; so that, in fact, the stars are
not altogether devoid of action on our sublunary, perhaps even on our
practical, world, and on the mental processes of some heads."--P. 162.
By the experiments here referred to by this author, he had endeavored to
show, that even the light of the stars exerted an odylic influence upon
the human system; that is, certain effects independent altogether of their
light; and if there be no mistake in the experiments, they certainly do
show this. Such a fact almost realizes the suggestions already made, that
beings in other spheres may possess such an exaltation of sensibilities as
to be able to learn what is going on in this world, and that it is easy to
conceive how our sensorium may be raised to the same exalted pitch.
_My fifth argument, illustrative of the general principle, is based upon
chemical reaction._
Mechanical reaction changes the form and position of bodies; chemical
reaction alters their constitution. By the decomposition of some
compounds, the elements are obtained for forming others; and such changes
are going on around us and within us in great numbers unperceived. In the
worlds above us, and in the earth beneath us, from its circumference to
its centre, the transmutations of chemistry are in progress, and many of
them are modified by the agency of man; so that here is another channel
through which human actions exert an influence upon the material universe,
and to an extent which we cannot measure. Let us look at some of the modes
in which this is done.
Take, in the first place, the facts respecting photography, or the art of
obtaining sketches of objects by means of the action of light. This is
strictly a chemical process. In a beam of light, that comes to us from the
sun, we find not only rays of light and heat, but chemical rays, which act
upon some bodies to change their constitution. When these rays are
reflected from a human countenance, and fall upon a silvered plate, that
has been coated with iodine and bromine, they leave an impression, which
is fixed and brought out as a portrait by the vapor of mercury and some
other agents. Here the chemical changes produced by these rays are
exceedingly perfect; but they produce effects upon many other substances,
artificially or naturally prepared; such as paper, for instance, immersed
in a solution of bichromate of potash, or upon vegetation, whose green
color is probably the result of this action, (as is obvious from the fact
that plants growing in the dark are destitute of color.) Indeed, a large
part of the changes of color in nature depend upon these invisible rays.
It seems, then, that this photographic influence pervades all nature; nor
can we say where it stops. We do not know but it may imprint upon the
world around us our features, as they are modified by various passions,
and thus fill nature with daguerreotype impressions of all our actions
that are performed in daylight. It may be, too, that there are tests by
which nature, more skilfully than any human photographist, can bring out
and fix those portraits, so that acuter senses than ours shall see them,
as on a great canvas, spread over the material universe. Perhaps, too,
they may never fade from that canvas, but become specimens in the great
picture gallery of eternity.
The thought may perhaps cross some mind, that, though those human actions
which are performed in sunlight may be imprinted upon the universe, yet no
deed of darkness can thus reveal its author, and remain an eternal stigma
upon his name. But there is another phase to this subject. What is the
evidence that the chemical rays of a sunbeam are rays of light? We know
that they are unequally diffused through the spectrum, being most
energetic at its violet extremity; but there is no proof that they are
visible. They may, like heat, exert their appropriate influence, which
seems to be mainly that of deoxidation, and yet not be colorific. If so,
we might expect them to operate in the dark; and experiment proves that
they do. An engraving on paper, placed between an iodized silver plate and
an amalgamated copper plate, was left in the dark for fifteen hours. On
exposing the amalgamated plate to the vapor of mercury, "a very nice
impression of the engraving was brought out--it having been effected
through the thickness of the paper."--Mr. Hunt, _"On the Changes which
Bodies are capable of undergoing in Darkness," Phil. Mag._ vol. xxii. p.
277.--Many like experiments prove the existence; among bodies, of a power
analogous to, if not identical with, that which accompanies light, and is
the basis of the photographic process. Some philosophers do not regard
them as identical. But this is of little consequence in my present
argument. For all agree that there is a power in nature capable of
impressing the outlines of some objects upon others in total darkness.
In respect to such cases, there are one or two facts deserving of special
notice. And, first. We must not infer, because man has yet been able to
bring out to human view but a few examples of this sort, that they are,
therefore, few in nature. Rather should the discovery of a few lead to the
conclusion that nature may be full of them, and that a more delicate and
refined chemistry may yet disclose them. For the few known cases give us a
glimpse of a recondite law of nature, which most likely pervades creation.
Some regard these dark rays as neither light, nor heat, nor chemical rays,
but a new element; but, whatever its nature, no reason can be given why it
should operate only in a few cases, and those of artificial preparation.
More probably, through this influence, all bodies brought into contact, or
proximity, impress their images upon one another; and the time may come,
when, touched by a more subtile chemistry than man now wields, these
images shall take a place among obvious and permanent things in the
universe, to the honor and glory of some, but to the amazement and
everlasting contempt of more.
Of more, I say; for wickedness has oftener sought the concealment of
darkness than modest virtue. The foulest enormities of human conduct have
always striven to cover themselves with the shroud of night. The thief,
the counterfeiter, the assassin, the robber, the murderer, and the
seducer, feel comparatively safe in the midnight darkness, because no
human eye can scrutinize their actions. But what if it should turn out
that sable night, to speak paradoxically, is an unerring photographist!
What if wicked men, as they open their eyes from the sleep of death, in
another world, should find the universe hung round with faithful pictures
of their earthly enormities, which they had supposed forever lost in the
oblivion of night! What scenes for them to gaze at forever! They may now,
indeed, smile incredulously at such a suggestion; but the disclosures of
chemistry may well make them tremble. Analogy does make it a scientific
probability that every action of man, however deep the darkness in which
it was performed, has imprinted its image upon nature, and that there may
be tests which shall draw it into daylight, and make it permanent so long
as materialism endures.
There is another chemical principle, called _catalysis_, through which
human actions may make powerful and permanent impressions on the universe,
and that, too, unperceived by man. In some cases, the mere presence of a
certain agent, in a small quantity, will produce extensive changes of
constitution in other bodies, while the agent itself remains unaltered.
Thus a strip of platinum will determine the union of oxygen and hydrogen
in the platinum lamp; and sulphuric acid, in a solution of starch, will
change it first into gum, and then into sugar; while neither the platinum
nor the acid experiences any change. These are called _catalytic_ changes.
More often, however, the catalytic agent is itself in the process of
change, and it produces an analogous change in other bodies. A familiar
example is yeast, or ferment. This substance contains a principle called
_diastase_, one part of which is capable of converting two thousand parts
of starch into sugar; and this is what is done in the familiar process of
fermentation, when we always see verified the scriptural declaration, _A
little leaven leaveneth the whole lump._
The precise manner in which the diastase operates in these cases we may
not be able to explain. The particles of the diastase, being themselves in
motion, possess the power of putting in motion the particles of other
bodies; and these, again, operate upon others, and so on, often to an
astonishing extent. In the case of the platinum and the acid, however, no
change takes place in their molecules, and we can only state it, as an
unexplained fact, that they do produce changes in other bodies.
We have other examples of catalytic influences in nature, exhibiting an
agency still more subtile and energetic. I refer to contagious and
epidemic diseases in animals and plants. An influence goes abroad, and
seems to be propagated through the atmosphere, traversing whole
continents, and crossing wide oceans, powerful and deadly in its effects,
yet inappreciable by the most delicate mechanical or chemical tests. But
the phenomena admit of explanation by supposing a movement, either in the
particles of the atmosphere, or of the still more subtile and elastic
medium that pervades all space; a movement started at a particular spot,
as the cholera in India, and the small-pox or some epidemic from some
focus, and communicating an unhealthy movement from atom to atom, till it
has encircled the earth and mowed down its hecatombs.
Now, when we look at such facts, who can suppose it improbable that man,
who can hardly lift a finger without producing some chemical change,
should start some of these movements, that may reach far beyond his
imagination? And here, as in the cases that have preceded, we must not
estimate the actual change in the constitution of bodies by the apparent;
for we know that multitudes of such changes are passing within us and
around us, without our cognizance; and yet there may be chemical eyes in
the universe quick enough to see them all, and to follow them onward to
the final result; for there must be a final resultant of all such forces;
nor can we doubt that, some time or other, and to some beings, if not to
ourselves, it will be manifest. Here, then, is another mode in which a
chemical influence may go forth from us, reaching the utmost limits of
matter and of time; nay, perhaps extending into eternity, and revealing
our actions to the finer sensibilities of exalted beings.
_I derive my sixth argument in support of the general principle from
organic reaction._
Few persons, save the zoologist and comparative anatomist, have any idea
of the great nicety and delicacy of the relations that exist between all
the species of animals and plants, so that what affects one affects all
the rest. Perhaps the subject may be illustrated by supposing all the
species of organic beings to be distributed at different distances through
a hollow sphere, while between them all there is a mutual repulsion, and
the whole are retained in the form of a sphere by an attracting force
directed to the centre. By such an arrangement, if one species be taken
out of the sphere, or its repellency become stronger or weaker, the
relative position of all the rest would be altered. No matter how many
millions of species there are, the movements of one will cause a reaction
among all the rest.