简介
首页

Memoirs of John Abernethy

CHAPTER XXX.
关灯
护眼
字体:
上一章    回目录 下一章

his religion.

"philosophy directs us to bear evils with patience and fortitude, because they are inevitable; but christianity gives us consolation under sufferings, by assuring us that they are but the discipline of a parent who loveth while he chastiseth, and that they are but for a moment, when compared with eternity. the christian's hope has made him whom it has supported rejoice under the greatest sufferings that mortality could endure; yet hope is but the offspring of faith, and therefore it was necessary to make faith the foundation of the structure of the christian religion, and to assign and affix to it peculiar privileges and rewards." mr. abernethy79.

whoever reflects on the influence produced on the mind by research in science, will, we think, arrive at a very important conclusion.

it is true that, at the commencement, numerous worldly motives tend to place most prominently before us the temporal advantages of scientific inquiry. there are distinctions of wealth, rank, position, which not unfrequently await its successful cultivation. then there are the multiform applications of science in extending the enjoyments, in ministering to the wants, and, still better, relieving the calamities of mankind; but when we have arrived at this, surely the acmé of its utilitarian allurements, we find there are still higher motives engendered—that science has a still richer harvest to encourage its onward cultivation. nor is312 it too much to say, that, if cultivated aright, the fruits may be more surely garnered than any of those to which we have previously referred. the harvest we mean consists of those moralizing influences which, however neglected, are never separable from the study of nature; which, however ordinary the impulses with which the inquiry may have commenced, slowly overlay it with motives and feelings which lead us to investigate nature for the sake of truth alone. and here, we think, first dawns upon us the conclusion to which we have alluded: viz. that the highest attractions of science are to be found in what we venture to term its "religion."

however much the influences first mentioned tend to place the more lofty suggestions of science in temporary abeyance, there always comes a time when the sincere inquirer begins to feel a double current of thought. in the one, the thoughts are open, aspiring—ambitious, it may be—public, and directed only to the laws and phenomena of nature; in the other, they are calm, deep, humble, silent, and will turn to the supreme cause. the former may foster his ambition, animate his research, sustain his industry. the latter carry him beyond those influences, and supplies something which they cannot give. in loving truth for its own sake, he learns by degrees to lean little on the worldly appreciation of labour—convinced that whatever is true, will one day find its own way, in the time best fitted for it. we cannot help thinking that it is the force of this double current of thought by which that climax has been reached by some of the greatest minds; which has exemplified the coincidence of the utmost range of human knowledge with the most profound humility; thus rendering the highest aspirations of science subservient to the cultivation of a principle; inseparable, we suppose, from all religion; but certainly one of the most distinguishing characteristics of christianity.

an idea, however, has arisen in some minds, that the pursuit of science has a tendency to make men sceptical in religion. this we believe to be not only a demonstrable, but a dangerous error—demonstrable, as remarkably opposed to the evidences of fact and observation; and dangerous, as withdrawing the minds313 of many from the study of science, who would be perhaps especially fitted to estimate its advantages and enjoy its pleasures.

history, who from her ample store of testimony has so often repealed injustice and defeated error, is no where more conclusive than on the question before us. the study of nature not only has no tendency to induce a state of mind unfavorable to the reception of the truths of religion, but just the contrary; for the proofs of a humble and sincere reliance on the promises of the one, have been infinitely most striking in those who have proved themselves the most successful cultivators of the other.

the philosopher, regarding the universe as the dwelling of the supreme, sees in the laws of nature, and in the powers through which he is permitted in a degree to interpret them, only another revelation—a divine recognition of his high relations and destiny; and grasps in one comprehensive idea the word and the works, as an integral communication—one extended privilege to man. he does not indeed confound the evidences on which philosophical and religious truths respectively repose. he knows that they rest on different kinds of testimony, which he neither strives to identify, nor misapply. he no more expects to deduce the generalizations of science from the scriptures, than he does the commands of the deity from the facts of the natural world. philosophy and religion, however, are constantly impressing similar facts. in science, we learn—and no doubt the deepest learn it best—that "there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in our philosophy." religion tells us there are many things "past man's understanding." religion and science teach us alike that any inquiry into the positive and ultimate nature of anything which exists, is entirely beyond our faculties; and respectively impress on us the conviction, that our proper business is to search out the phenomena and laws of the one, and to obey the commandments of the other.

philosophy is daily teaching us how little we know, as compared with that which is unknown. religion informs us that, at present, we see "through a glass darkly." yet, at the same time, both concur in encouraging us to believe that everything that is really required of us, everything that is good and useful to us314 both here and hereafter, are alike open to human capacity. the pursuit of science, no doubt, establishes requisitions which are essential to the proper study of it. a mind undisciplined by any rule; a mind taking only a conjectural view of nature; a mind allowing fancy or imagination to usurp the place of intellectual power; a condition which ignores the guidance of patience, circumspection, and industry, and which seeks the explanation of the impressions made on the senses by ingenious hypotheses made to fit them; or which sees no order or intelligibility in anything which it does not at once comprehend; that these and many other states of mind may tend to confound the understanding, and replace anything rational or profitable by anything else, is possible enough. but is it not equally true of religion? experience has abundantly shown us the result of man trying to fit the mysteries of religion to the measure of intelligibility set up by the human intellect. there surely is no subject on which men have become more lamentably bewildered. this, however, is merely one of the too common examples of abuse of our faculties; and that such men may become sceptical, whether pursuing science or any subject whatever, is probable. it is, in truth, "science falsely so called," and has no more relation to the legitimate study of nature, than the most orderly formula of the mathematician has to the wildest conjecture.

but that research in science, legitimately conducted, has any tendency to produce what is usually intended by the term scepticism, is not only improbable;—it is directly contradicted by the facts of experience. so numerous are the examples of the contrary, to which we here add the name of abernethy, that it is difficult to select, so as not to leave the evidence unjustifiably bald on the one hand; or to render it superfluous even to tediousness on the other. that which confers, however, the greatest interest on this part of the subject, is not so much the mass of testimony, not so much the crowd of witnesses, as the peculiar, yet varied, character of the august assemblage. it is extremely significant to observe, that whilst we find amongst the most earnest advocates of the paramount importance of revealed truth, the names of the most successful students of the truths of science,—so, on the315 other hand, no persons have laboured to impress us with the important uses of the facts in nature with more zeal and success than distinguished divines. amongst the many scientific men who have exemplified the purifying tendencies of scientific pursuits in promoting their reverence for revealed religion, it will suffice to mention such names as boyle, bacon, kepler, newton, locke. the latter too reminds us that the medical profession has contributed no small number of witnesses; of whom, b?erhaave, linn?us, sloane, and haller, are a few of the more illustrious examples. all the foregoing are men who have explored one or more of the ample fields of nature; some of them, extending their views beyond the planet we inhabit, into the whole visible universe, have come back, showing us how to understand the necessity, and estimate the value, of revealed truth; converting, it may be, in many instances, belief (so called) into a positive faith; and a passive assent into an earnest and clear conviction.

but, as we have said, divines have not been slow in contributing the weight of their testimony to the value of natural evidence, and the acceptable assistance afforded by a contemplation of the laws and the mysteries of nature. so abundant indeed are these mysteries, that there is not a path of our progress by day, nor a waking thought by night, that does not at times present some of them to our reflection. mysteries in operation so clear, that our very senses take cognizance of them; so orderly, that when we are allowed to discover the law which regulates them, we are at a loss which most to admire, the power, the number, or the simplicity of its manifestations; and yet which, as to their intrinsic nature, are so recondite as to be entirely beyond our researches; leaving us, in fact, no faculty which can deal with them, but faith alone. divines have shown the value they attach to all such facts, by the admirable application they have made of them in aiding the cultivation of religion—sometimes by teaching the necessity and reasonableness of faith in the mysteries of religion; at others, in impressing the nature and attributes of the supreme.

it would be easy to produce a longer roll of such men; but most readers are acquainted with such names as cudworth, butler, sturm, derham, paley, crombie, who have, in one or other sense,316 exemplified the importance of natural knowledge, and the interest they took in its cultivation. in every phase of the investigation, we meet with fresh examples of the union of religion with science. paschal and st. pierre are eminent illustrations. paschal was a divine, and an eminent mathematician: mankind is surely under obligations to him for his "lettres provinciales." these extraordinary compositions must have operated with uncommon force against the sophistries of the jesuits; and, considering the nature of the subject, it could have been no ordinary work that could have induced voltaire to say that he had never read anything more humorous than the earlier letters, or more sublime than the later. st. pierre80, too, should not be passed without mention. his book is, in some points of view, one of the most interesting works ever written: occasionally fanciful or enthusiastic, it is a most unusually rich collection of facts and observations. how excellently adapted it is to encourage observation of natural phenomena! how just and philanthropic—how circumspect and comprehensive his observations in nature! and how excellent and free from cant the paramount importance he impresses of religion as a principle, and of christianity as the perfect supply of all that is necessary to us in time or in eternity. yet st. pierre was a soldier; and it is to our present purpose that he was a scientific man, and an engineer. neither should we pass unnoticed the numerous associations of pastoral care with the observation of nature, so pleasingly exemplified in white of selborne, and gilpin of the new forest—men whose books we count now rather by generations than editions, and which suggest to our imagination the additional gratification which such men must have derived to their favourite pursuits, in the continued sanction afforded by scripture. we would reverently point to the site first chosen as the abode of purity and innocence; and the numerous illustrations from nature contained in the sacred volume; whether in enforcing general rules, or a special command—impressing a particular principle, or illustrating a recondite mystery,—and especially that which is a remarkable and necessary combination of mystery with faith. for whilst it is, as317 well as other mysteries, beyond our comprehension, it commands so entire a faith in its reality, as to be, in some form or other, instinctive and universal81.

mr. abernethy, it has been stated in former editions, was, as regards his religious tenets, a member of the church of england: and it would have been gratifying to have included some of those sentiments on religious and moral matters which we now record; but, although some of these documents had been open to our inspection before the completion of the second edition, they were not so entirely at our disposal as miss abernethy has subsequently placed them. of these documents, those which relate to religious and moral subjects consist, first, of a small book on the mind, which abernethy published a great many years ago, anonymously; and certain reflections, found amongst the very few mss. which he had preserved. amongst these papers, there are two which are in the form of sermons; and, although they are all somewhat fragmentary, they are in several points of view more or less interesting.

as it appears to be an abuse of the proper business of biography to publish every thing that an eminent man says or does, we shall endeavour to make such selection as shall fall within its legitimate objects—viz. as establishing some fact of importance, as illustrating the tone and character of the man, or as placing some conclusion which had been drawn more or less from general observation, on the more secure basis of the sentiments he has himself recorded.

extracts.

there is "more moral certainty in the greater number of instances of those things which we believe from the deduction of reason, than of those we believe from the action of the senses."

yet he would warn the students of science "from being proud of their acquisitions; and against not believing any318 thing but what they learn from the deductions of their reason, lest they become most ignorant of that of which they are most assured."

"man at this period of the world is still ignorant of the nature of surrounding bodies; his information must be limited as his perceptions are limited, and this should produce humility, the proper frame of mind for christians."

after saying that we have no means of forming any idea of the nature of matter, but from the impressions we receive from it, those of figure, divisibility, gravity, and disposition to move when impelled, to continue in motion unless retarded, &c. &c.—in allusion to a well-known theory, he adds: "but some have doubted whether we could be sure even of those properties of matter of which we felt most confident the existence were such as we conceived them to be. certainly," he says, "we know nothing of what matter really is; we only know certain properties, without being at all acquainted with the substratum or subject, as a logician would say, which supports these properties. yet," he says, "when we consider the ideas derived from external objects, we cannot but admire their correctness and suitability to our present wants and state of existence."

"if we are ignorant of the nature of the most common object of matter, as we call it, how can we obtain any knowledge of what we call spirit?" he thinks that it is only from a knowledge of ourselves that we can derive any ideas on the subject.

"when we examine our bodies, we see an assemblage319 of organs formed of what we call matter, visible to the eye and cognizable to the touch; but, when we examine our minds, we feel that there is something sensitive and intelligible which inhabit our bodies." "we naturally believe in the existence of a supreme first cause. we feel our own free agency. we distinguish right and wrong. we feel as if we were responsible for our conduct, and the belief in the existence of a future state seems indigenous to the mind of man." "we are conscious of our existence; we remember our sensations; we compare them, judge of them, and will and act in consequence of such judgment." he thinks if we can form any notion of the actions of a spirit, it must be from reflections on such phenomena, and not from any hypothetical definitions of matter and spirit.

again, after insisting on the limitation of our powers, he says, "from them we may conceive of god, that he approves what is right, and condemns what is wrong; and that he may approve of our conduct when we act right or wrong, according to our own ideas of rectitude or error. we cannot conceive that god would have given us the power of judging without deciding on the rectitude or error of our conduct in conformity to such power or judgment. this is the sense in which i understand the scriptures—that god created man in his own image."

his tendency to reason by analogy.

"as the mind takes cognizance of what is passing in the body, and in those which surround it and directs its notions and operations in regard to them, so we may conceive of that great spirit, the soul of the universe, that he perceives and governs all its parts. that creator, supporter, and governor of the universe, whom we are taught to address, not only as such, but by the more endearing appellation of the father of our spirits."

320

in his little book on mind, he thus lays out his plan:

"the attributes of the mind, which seem to be of a permanent nature, are here considered as 'properties' (intending such as perception, memory, &c.); those which are occasionally exerted and operate with effort as 'powers;' and those which may be perceived only occasionally, and which vary in degree or kind in different persons, as 'qualities.' as reason and will are 'properties' of the mind, and yet exerted as 'powers,' they are treated under both heads."

of ideas.

"as i may not use the word in a customary sense, i think it right to explain what i mean by ideas. when i see a beautiful prospect illuminated by the sun, i have a perception of light and shade. when, however, i have acquired such a knowledge of light and shade as to be able to represent on paper a spherical or many-sided body, i think i have acquired a knowledge of light and shade beyond that which the mere remembrance of my perception would have produced. i shall, therefore, express myself as follows: our knowledge consists of perceptions and deduction from them, which may be called ideas, opinions, thoughts. in reasoning, we employ these intellectual deductions, as we employ the perceptions of the facts themselves."

of abstraction.

he observes: "it does not appear that we have the power of abstracting the mind from the consideration of any subject, except by engaging it in some other."

321

of benevolence.

"benevolence is necessary, because it enlarges our sphere of happiness by rendering us participators in the happiness of others—besides producing, by sympathy, similar feelings in others."

in a series of propositions on the exercise of mind, he impresses the mischief of admitting or indulging erroneous trains of thought, as illustrated by "the fears arising from bad management in childhood,—by persistence in vice after the gratification has ceased and the destruction certain; and also in contributing to the production of insanity." or, on the other hand, he considers the advantage of exercise in correct trains of thought; that the powers evinced by newton, and, in certain cases, by johnson, to have been unattainable, but as the result of such exercise. he enlarges on the moral effects of habitual increase of power in diverting the mind at will to other objects, and so subduing anger, mitigating calamity, &c.

in illustrating the intensity that recurrence of impression is apt to give to the feelings, he says: "benevolence indulged, leads to lasting friendship; whilst the harbouring sensations of even trivial disgust are too likely to develop animosity," &c.

in speaking of the difficulty of ascertaining all the facts and feelings which enter into the formation of any one's opinions, he says: "it ought to incline us to think modestly of our own, and pay deference to those of others,"

the impropriety of "anything like compulsion to make men322 think alike by other than their own temperately induced convictions is never more clear than in regard to religion; for the aim of christianity is general benevolence and individual humility—benevolence even to the forgiveness of error. has not this been illustrated in the highest degree by its supreme author, when he said, 'father, forgive them; they know not what they do?' does not christianity enjoin the very reverse of that which we are constantly pursuing, by which we excite dissension and cultivate an arrogance incompatible with the character of a christian."

he concludes one chapter thus:

if we said to others, who agree in the main points of religion, "we are brothers, let each think as his own mind dictates,—it is probable that all would soon think alike, because all would think without passion or prejudice."

he considers the most exalted of all manifestations of divine mercy, "the atonement of sin by the sufferings of christ, and the promulgation of precepts which, if practised, ensure temporal and eternal happiness." and, in another place, he speaks of the gratitude that man should feel in "that his creator has thus condescended to be his redeemer," &c.

of the scripture precept—"to do justice, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy god"—he observes, "that it contains precepts so clear as to be intelligible to any capacity—so strikingly just as to gain our immediate accordance—and so comprehensive as to include every event which can occur in life," &c. yet he says, "it is the property of truth, however323 beautiful it may appear at first sight, to seem more and more so, in proportion as it is minutely examined." mss.

in deprecating pride, whether of mind, body, or estate, after discussing the latter, he remarks on the more seductive influence of intellectual superiority; he says: "the mind is no more ours than the body;" that the success of intellect depends on varieties of opportunity, qualities of mind, &c.; that all are alike given us, and that any merit which the mind may bring, consists, not in the successes of intellect, but in the purity of the motive by which they are guided.

pride of position.

"it requires great and constant reflection to prevent a man from becoming vain, who is placed in high office. he receives such constant deference and respect to his opinions and wishes from all around him, such ready obedience, that he might be led to imagine he was a creature of superior order."

in some memoranda connected with things which had vexed him, we find: "if justice, good will, and candour, were common, the world would be too happy; it would not be what it now is—a state of exertion and trial; of strenuous efforts, which contribute to the general good; and, when efforts are unavailing, of trials which demand fortitude, patience, and submission." mss.

in allusion to some preceding reflections, "it being intended to show that the conduct enjoined by the scriptures is the same that324 philosophy should inculcate, and that the preceding considerations would not only almost persuade, but oblige every one to be a christian in conduct, whatever he might be in creed."

"to me it seems that the inspired origin of christianity may be fairly inferred from its wonderful adaptations to the wants and feelings of the human mind. the author of the christian religion knew the mind of man, and all those feelings and considerations which support and confirm him in well-doing. that feelings, to become vivid, strong, and habitual, must be often repeated; and therefore that prayer and the ceremonials of religion were not only right, but due to that power by whose ordinances we live, and move, and have our being. how perfect a knowledge of the human mind evince those precepts which instruct us, distrusting our own constancy, to shun temptation and evil society. to engage ourselves in constant and useful employment, and to suppress the first movements of the mind, which, if continued, would urge us with increased force and velocity to error. human observation teaches that the feelings of man are the source of their happiness or misery, and the causes of their conduct. the christian religion operates on our feelings, by teaching us the government of the mind, and showing that christianity does not consist merely in evil doing, but in evil thinking."

we here conclude the extracts which we think it necessary to submit to the reader, and we hope that they have not been more than in keeping with the objects we proposed to observe. in all the reasoning in his papers, abernethy, whether we suppose him right or wrong, is remarkably clear and consistent. if he discourses on matter, or spirit, or any other principle, he simply regards the phenomena they can be made to exhibit, regardless of any opinion mankind may have formed as to their325 real nature. he regards our ignorance of the intrinsic nature of matter or spirit merely as an example of our ignorance of that which is beyond the scope of our present faculties. this, in science, is studying facts and laws, as contrasted with speculation and conjecture; in religion, it seems to be attention to the command and the study of the word, as contrasted with that of the intrinsic nature of him who gave it; and, in thus suggesting the legitimate path of mind in regard to both, is at once philosophical and religious.

it would have been easy to have multiplied the analogies of science and religion, and especially those which, in warning us before hand of those difficulties which occur in the prosecution of science, tend to gird us with the requisite firmness and moderation in bearing up against, or in surmounting them. few have cultivated science with success, without encountering more or less of those evils which have been so commonly opposed to the more devoted advocates of religion. so, also, some of the most useful discoveries have been the mission of men of obscure origin. again, discoveries in science have frequently had to brave distrust, ridicule, injustice, and all kinds of opposition. it would, indeed, seem that nothing really good can in this world be attained without sacrifice; much less truth—that best of all; and he among us who is not prepared, in his search for the truths of science, to add his mite of something that the world most values, might perhaps as well take science as he finds it, and avoid a labour which, without sacrifice, will be almost certainly abortive.

that abernethy's idea of religion was eminently practical, is every where apparent in his reflections; yet, while he seems to have felt that "faith, without works, is dead," he unmistakeably evinces his conviction as to the foundation on which he thinks good works can alone be secured.

the extracts we have made, and all abernethy's writings, appear to bear witness to a marked sincerity of character. we see that, whether he lectured at the college of surgeons, or spoke to his pupils, who paid him for his instructions—whether he addressed the public who joined with the profession326 in establishing his eminent position—whether he published with his name or without it; or addressed his sentiments to his family, unheard but in the sacred precincts of home,—we find his thoughts and his language always the same. he had no dress thoughts, no company mind-clothing; he was always the same, simple, earnest, and sincere. in his very earliest papers, in his lectures at college, or in those of the hospital, we never entirely lose sight of the golden thread to which i have before alluded. the bulk of the discourse is always the question that is really and properly before him; yet he seldom concludes the argument philosophical, without glancing (and it is in that just keeping as to be seldom more) at its ethical or its theological relations.

上一章    回目录 下一章
阅读记录 书签 书架 返回顶部