I feel the weight of the task I have undertaken to perform, the more sensibly, when I recollect the brilliant qualifications of the member1 who was the first choice of the society, and that I must disappoint the expectations which that choice so naturally raised. The grave and sober speculations which I am about to submit to your consideration will, I fear, but poorly compensate those who hear me, for the graces of elocution, the rich, but chaste imagery, and the rare felicity of diction by which that gentleman is distinguished; and I regret on your account, as well as my own, that he has thus unexpectedly failed to fulfil the wishes of his associates.
1 James McDowell, Esq. of Rockbridge.
I have thought it would not be unappropriate to the occasion, to present to the society some views of the influence which philosophy has exercised, and must continue to exercise, over civilized man. Amidst the din of political controversy, and the bustling concerns of life, it is well sometimes to withdraw our thoughts from the tumultuous scenes around us to the calm views of rational speculation. Our minds may be not merely refreshed by the change, but they are likely to acquire elevation and purity in being thus severed from sordid and selfish pursuits, and made to contemplate human concerns in the transparent medium of truth and philosophy.
Philosophy! a term to which some attach a mysterious import, as implying a kind of knowledge unattainable except by a few gifted minds—whilst others regard it as more an object of aversion than of affection,—inculcating a system of thought and action equally at war with nature and common sense,—as a perversion of human reason and feeling, at once cold and repulsive to others, and profitless to the possessor. This is not the philosophy of which I propose to speak, but her counterfeit; which, being as bold and forward as the other is modest and retiring, has made herself more known to the world than the character she personates, and has thus brought discredit on the name.
By philosophy, I mean that power of perceiving truths which are not obvious—of seeing the complicated relations of things, and of seeing them as they really are, unperverted by passion or prejudice. So far from being repugnant to nature and common sense, it constantly appeals to these for the justness of its precepts. It is indeed Reason, exercising its highest attributes in the multifarious concerns of human life. Such was the philosophy of Newton and Locke, and of our own illustrious Franklin.
It will be the object of the following remarks to show, that this philosophy is gradually increasing and diffusing itself over the world; that it now mingles in all human concerns, and gives to the present age its distinguishing characteristics; that its progress must still continue, and more and more influence the character of man and civilized society; and that in no country is its influence likely to be more extensively or beneficently felt than in this.
The most superficial observer must be struck with the prodigious advancement of the human intellect, when he compares the opposite extremes of society. The savage, when his mind is roused from a state of apathy, passes into one of strong emotion; for he is capable of intense feelings, but not of profound and comprehensive thought. He knows but few facts; and they have not that variety and complexity which distinguish the knowledge of the civilized man. All that he sees and hears, is heard and seen by the men of civilization; but to this the latter is always adding the perception of new and intricate relations, of which the former is incapable. Thus, compare the knowledge of the relations of numbers possessed by one who barely knows how many fives there are in twenty, with that of him who can mark out the paths of the planets, calculate their mutual attractions, and predict a distant eclipse to a minute; or the few and simple rules of justice among a tribe of savages, to the intricate and multifarious codes of civilized society; nay, extend the comparison to any other department of human knowledge, and there will be found the same difference between the two, as exists between the wigwam of mud or bark, without a door, window or chimney, and the solid and spacious hall in which we are assembled. Nor is this all; for as the reason, in common with every other faculty, is strengthened by exercise, the severer and more incessant exercise to which it is subjected by the multiplication of new relations, is constantly increasing the authority of reason, and weakening the dominion of the passions and prejudices.
The mind therefore becomes, with the progress of civilization, more capable of perceiving relations—more imbued with a knowledge of these relations—more comprehensive—more capable of making remote deductions. It perceives more truths that are complex and difficult—and has more capacity to detect illusion and error. We thus see human reason gradually extending its empire, successfully assailing former prejudice, and fashioning human institutions to purposes of utility. We see men more and more inclined to value every object only in proportion as it conduces to the happiness of the greater number; and to consider nothing as permanently connected with that happiness, but what gives gratification to the senses without debasing them; to the intellect without misleading it; and to the passions when fulfilling their legitimate objects. It is thus we see each succeeding generation regarding with indifference, and even with contemptuous ridicule, what commanded the veneration of a former age.
It would exceed the limits of such a discourse as the present to give even an outline of the advancement of reason, as exhibited in the various branches of science. Nor is it necessary. It will be sufficient for us to give our attention to some few striking facts in the progress of science and art, especially in those cases which being more recent, are at once better known to us, and have a nearer relation to our interests. Let us turn to any department of human knowledge or inquiry, and we see the clearest manifestations of the growing philosophical spirit of which I speak.
If we look at the character of civil government, we find that every revolution—every important change—is the result of the progress of philosophy—of the extension of the empire of reason. Once kings were regarded as deriving their power not from the consent of the people, but immediately from the Deity. They were said to be the Lord's anointed; and implicit obedience—unresisting submission to the mandate of the sovereign, was enjoined not merely as a civil, but as a religious duty.