BY REV. JAMES A. STOTHERT.
If the philosophers of the nineteenth century are proud of its scientific character, it is not without reason; if they congratulate themselves on having penetrated further into the secrets of nature than their predecessors, the impartial judgment of future times will confirm the opinion. It is no ordinary age that has, in the first half of its course, produced men of the first eminence in every branch of science, and contributed discoveries, remarkable alike for their intrinsic value, and their influence on the welfare of mankind. The progress of the physical sciences, since the year 1800, has been rapid and unprecedented; some of them have assumed a character and position entirely new, in consequence of the number and brilliancy of the discoveries, and the importance of the principles unfolded in relation to them. Another era in the history of chemistry opened with Dalton's atomic theory, aided by the amazing industry of Berzelius, in its practical application; the labors of Davy, in reducing the number of simple elements by means of voltaic electricity, and Faraday's patient and even-advancing discoveries in the wide field of electro-magnetism, have developed chemical science to an extent, and in a direction, which a former generation would have deemed fabulous. During the same period, geology has been rescued from neglect, and from serious charges of unsound tendencies, and been placed in deserved rank among the sciences by the eminent labors Smith and Buckland, of Sedgwick and Delabeche, of Lyell and Murchison, and Miller. Thee stamp of the age has been put on the science of optics by the discovery of the polarization of light by Malus; by the subsequent extension and perfection of that discovery by Brewster and Arago; and, more remarkably still, by the profound investigations and independent research of Young and Fresnel, on the subject of the wave theory of light. Zoology, especially in its bearing on geology and the history of the earth, has been carried to astonishing perfection, by the intuitive genius and sagacity of Cuvier and Agassiz and Owen and Forbes. In the history of astronomy, the queen of the sciences, the nineteenth century must be ever memorable as that in which was first established the appreciable parallax of some among the stars commonly called fixed; at once spanning the hitherto illimitable abyss which separates the solar system from those distant luminaries, and opening up to human intelligence clear and better defined views of the vastness of the universe. The names of Bessel, Struve, and Argelander, of Airy and Lord Rosse, and the two Herschels, are associated with observations and discoveries, for which future ages will look back to our time with admiration and gratitude. The more recent observations of Herschel on Multiple Stars may be assumed to have established, the existence of the great law of gravitation in regions of space, so remote from our sight, that the diameter of the earth's orbit, if searched for at that distance, through telescopes equal to our most powerful, would be invisible. The circumstances attending the discovery of the most distant planet, Neptune, are perhaps the most extraordinary proof of the high intellectual [{254}] culture of our time. Another planet, Uranus, its next neighbor, had been long observed to be subject to perturbations, for which no known cause could altogether account. By an elaborate and wholly independent calculation of these disturbances, and a comparison of them with what would have resulted from all the known causes of irregularity, two mathematicians, Leverrier in France, and Adams in England, were enabled, nearly at the same time, and quite unknown to each other, to say where the disturbing cause must be, and what must be the conditions of its action. They communicated with practical astronomers, and told them where they ought to find a new planet; telescopes were directed to the spot, accurate star-maps were consulted, and there it was, the newly discovered planet Neptune, wandering through space, in an orbit of nearly three thousand millions of miles' semi-diameter. Other discoveries had been the result of good fortune, or the reward of patient accuracy and untiring perseverance; here discovery was anticipated, and directed by the conclusions of purely mathematical reasoning.
The nineteenth century, little more than half elapsed, can also point with satisfaction to numerous observatories in both hemispheres, where, in nightly vigils and daily calculations, the accumulating observations and details are amassed and arranged, which for years to come are to guide the mariner through the pathless seas, and to furnish materials for future generalization in regard to the laws of the physical universe; where untiring account is kept of those occult and variable magnetic influences which permeate the surface of our globe and the atmosphere around it, to which the distinguished Humboldt first urged attention, and in the investigation of which the names of Kater and Sabine are conspicuous. In chemical laboratories at home, and on the continent, the progress of investigation into the internal constitution of matter is so extensive and so fruitful in results, that as we were lately informed by an eminent chemist, it is hardly possible even for a professional man to keep up to the mark of weekly discovery. The triumphs of steam-power in connexion with machinery; the perfection attained my modern engineering, and the multiplication of its resources; the wonderful results produced by the combination and division of labor, illustrated by the completion of vast works, and the supply of materials for our world-wide commerce; and, not least of all, the application of the electric current to the transmission of messages, originally suggested by a Scotsman, in the year 1753, [Footnote 40] and perfected by Wheatstone and others, the influence of which, in flashing intelligence from one side of the world to the other, is not improbably destined to act more powerfully than that of steam and railway communication, on the future history of mankind; all these valuable in enduring evidences of the scientific preeminence of our age, are no inconsiderable or unreasonable cause of elation and self-congratulation among contemporary philosophers. There never was a time when juster views on the subject of physical science were more generally diffused among the community at large; when a readier ear could be gained for any new and well-supported claims of science; when the public mind thirsted more eagerly for fresh draughts from the fountain of knowledge; or when more competent persons were engaged in providing means for satisfying this universal thirst. Scientific societies are numerous and active; mechanics' institutes, philosophical associations, athenaeums and other reunions alternating kindred nature, are organized and flourishing in every large town in the country, for the purpose of conveying a little rill of this coveted knowledge to the tradesmen and artisans in the short intervals of their daily toil. The very credulity with which some [{255}] unscientific and preposterous theories of motion have been lately accepted and believed by multitudes of educated persons, and which Faraday has the merit of first boldly denouncing, is another proof of the desire of something new in physics, which animates large masses of thinking men, and which is often much more developed than their power of distinguishing what is true from what is false, or empirical, in the philosophy of nature.
[Footnote 40: See Scots Magazine, February, 1753.]
The contemplation of this picture of the nineteenth century suggests a question of some moment: What is the relation of this scientific development to revelation? What influence is it likely to have on the conclusions of faith? A simple mind, or a simple age, receives these implicitly: will the influence of science on either dispose, or indispose it, to similar confidence? Are modern discoveries likely to throw a reasonable doubt on the province of revelation; or are they more likely to reflect light upon it, and establish its landmarks?
This is a question of the last moment. The age is bent on acquiring knowledge; it is justly elated by its progress in search of this precious gift; and, all the while, its dependence on the great truths of revelation is not less than that of a simple age. Faith, if ever necessary, is not less so now, than when all the brilliant discoveries of our era lay in the folds of the future time. They will not, with all their brilliancy, direct and save one human soul, or illuminate the obscure region which lies beyond the grave. If science must dissolve the charm of belief, alas! for the elation of our age at its own high attainments; better had it been for it that the ancient ignorance of physical laws had never then dissipated, than that its dispersion should have been so dearly purchased.
Of course, by revelation, the author must be understood to mean the whole will of God, revealed to the world, and taught by the Catholic Church; as well that part of it which Protestants reject, as the mutilated part of it which the greater number of them are agreed in accepting; all the doctrines peculiarly and distinctively belonging to Catholicity, together with others which it holds and teaches in common with all calling themselves Christian. What relation, then, we ask, has the modern advance of science to this undivided sum of revealed truth? Is it one of hostility or of harmony, of illustration and confirmation, or of antagonism? Is physical science the handmaid, or the enemy of faith?
(1.) Now, a very great number of persons, understanding revelation in the sense in which we have defined it, would answer this question by saying that science is the enemy of revealed truth, as maintained by the Catholic Church; that the more generally scientific and accurate ideas of the laws and constitution of the physical universe are diffused, the more difficult must grow the belief of sensible men, claimed by the Catholic Church for apparently impossible exceptions to those laws. We can even imagine some good Catholics, little versed in scientific pursuits, of the same opinion, and therefore jealous of this general craving of the people for secular knowledge. Among the Protestants of this country it is currently believed that the Catholic Church is as keenly and doggedly opposed to science as science is to her; that her unchanging policy has always been to keep her children in ignorance, so as the more easily to subdue their intelligence to her bidding.
(2.) An answer of a different kind we should expect to receive from a numerous class of friends, and from a few opponents; namely, that the relation of science to revelation is one of indifference, as they belong to spheres of knowledge totally distinct and independent. A few remarks on each of these answers will best introduce the author's own attempt at a solution of the question.