But dropping the company of all those, whether kings or misers, whose minds and bodies are equally affected by gravitation, let us proceed to the orb of Jupiter; the Earth and all the inferior planets will vanish, lost in the sun’s bright rays, and Saturn only remain; He too sometimes so diminished in lustre, as not to be easily discovered. But a new and beautiful system will arise. The four moons of Jupiter will become very conspicuous; some of them perhaps appearing larger, others smaller than our moon; and all of them performing their revolutions with incredible swiftness, and the most beautiful regularity:—varying their phases from[from] full to new and from new to full, and frequently eclipsing the sun and each other, at least to the equatorial parts of Jupiter; and almost in every revolution suffering eclipses themselves by falling into Jupiter’s shadow; excepting that the outermost will seem, like a traveller fond of the sun-beams, cautiously to avoid the shadow for whole years together. Since we are advanced so far, if not tired of the journey, let us proceed a step further; it is but 400 millions of miles to the globe of Saturn. Here again all will be lost, but Jupiter itself. The Sun will put on something of a starlike appearance, but with excessive brightness. The five[[A33]] satellites of Saturn will exhibit appearances similar to those of Jupiter, but they will very rarely eclipse the Sun, or suffer eclipses themselves. The particular phænomena of Saturn’s ring, we cannot explain, unless we knew the time and plane of Saturn’s revolution on his axis. But this we know, that it must sometimes appear, by night, like a prodigious luminous arch, almost equal to one quarter of the heavens; and at other times, dark, so as to afford no light itself, but to intercept the light of every star beyond it, by night, and of the sun itself by day. And to conclude, if borne on the wings of a comet we should travel with it to the remotest part of its orbit; our whole planetary system would disappear, and the sun become a star, only more refulgent than Sirius perhaps, because less distant.
The opinion of the earth’s rotation on its axis was once violently opposed, from a notion of its dangerous tendency with respect to the interests of religion:[[A34]] But, as truth is always consistent with itself, so many new proofs were furnished from time to time by new discoveries, that a mistaken interpretation of some passages in the bible was compelled to give way to the force of astronomical evidence. The doctrine of a plurality of worlds, is inseparable from the principles of Astronomy; but this doctrine is still thought, by some pious persons, and by many more I fear, who do not deserve that title, to militate against the truths asserted by the Christian religion. If I may be allowed to give my opinion on a matter of such importance, I must confess that I think upon a proper examination the apparent inconsistency will vanish. Our religion teaches us what philosophy could not have taught; and we ought to admire with reverence the great things it has pleased divine Providence to perform, beyond the ordinary course of Nature, for man, who is undoubtedly the most noble inhabitant of this globe. But neither religion nor philosophy forbids us to believe that infinite wisdom and power, prompted by infinite goodness, may throughout the vast extent of creation and duration, have frequently interposed in a manner quite incomprehensible to us, when it became necessary to the happiness of created beings of some other rank or degree.
How far indeed the inhabitants of the other planets may resemble man, we cannot pretend to say. If like him they were created liable to fall, yet some, if not all of them, may still retain their original rectitude. We will hope they do: the thought is comfortable.—Cease, Galileo, to improve thy optic tube: and thou, great Newton, forbear thy ardent search into the distant mysteries of nature: lest ye make unwelcome discoveries. Deprive us not of the pleasure of believing that yonder radiant orbs, traversing in silent majesty the etherial regions, are the peaceful seats of innocence and bliss: where neither natural nor moral evil has ever yet intruded; where to enjoy with gratitude and adoration the creator’s bounty, is the business of existence. If their inhabitants resemble man in their faculties and affections, let us suppose that they are wise enough to govern themselves according to the dictates of that reason their creator has given them, in such manner as to consult their own and each other’s true happiness, on all occasions. But if, on the contrary, they have found it necessary to erect artificial fabrics of government, let us not suppose that they have done it with so little skill, and at such an enormous expence, as must render them a misfortune instead of a blessing. We will hope that their statesmen are patriots, and that their kings, if that order of beings has found admittance there, have the feelings of humanity.—Happy people! and perhaps more happy still, that all communication with us is denied. We have neither corrupted you with our vices, nor injured you by violence. None of your sons and daughters, degraded from their native dignity, have been doomed to endless slavery by us in America, merely because their bodies may be disposed to reflect or absorb the rays of light, in a way different from ours. Even you, inhabitants of the moon, situated in our very neighbourhood, are effectually secured, alike from the rapacious hand of the haughty Spaniard, and of the unfeeling British nabob. Even British thunder impelled by British thirst of gain, cannot reach you: And the utmost efforts of the mighty Frederick, that tyrant of the north and scourge of mankind, if aimed to disturb your peace, becomes inconceivably ridiculous and impotent.
Pardon these reflections; they rise not from the gloomy spirit of misanthropy. That being, before whose piercing eye all the intricate foldings and dark recesses of the human heart become expanded and illuminated, is my witness with what sincerity, with what ardor, I wish for the happiness of the whole race of mankind: how much I admire that disposition of lands and seas, which affords a communication between distant regions, and a mutual exchange of benefits:[[A35]] how sincerely I approve of those social refinements which really add to our happiness, and induce us with gratitude to acknowledge our great Creator’s goodness:—how I delight in a participation of the discoveries made from time to time in nature’s works, by our Philosophic brethren in Europe.
But when I consider, that luxury and her constant follower tyranny, who have long since laid in the dust, never to rise again, the glories of Asia, are now advancing like a torrent irresistible, whose weight no human force can stem, and have nearly completed their conquest of Europe; luxury and tyranny, who by a vile affectation of virtues they know not, pretend at first to be the patrons of science and philosophy, but at length fail not effectually to destroy them; agitated I say by these reflections, I am ready to wish—vain wish! that nature would raise her everlasting bars between the new and old world; and make a voyage to Europe as impracticable as one to the moon. I confess indeed, that by our connections with Europe we have made most surprising, I had almost said unnatural, advances towards the meridian of glory; but by those connections too, in all probability, our fall will be premature. May the God of knowledge inspire us with wisdom to prevent it: let our harbours, our doors, our hearts, be shut against luxury. But I return to my subject, and will no longer indulge these melancholy thoughts.
Some have observed, that the wonderful discoveries of the microscope ought to go hand in hand with those of the telescope; lest whilst we contemplate the many instances of the wisdom and power of divine Providence, displayed in the great works of creation, we should be tempted to conclude that man, and other less important beings of this lower world, did not claim its attention. But I will venture to affirm, without at all derogating from the merits of those who have so greatly obliged the world with the success of their microscopical enquiries, that no such danger is to be apprehended. Nothing can better demonstrate the immediate presence of the Deity in every part of space, whether vacant or occupied by matter, than astronomy does. It was from an astronomer St. Paul quoted that exalted expression, so often since repeated; “In God we live, and move, and have our being.” His divine energy supports that universal substratum on which all corporal substances subsist, that the laws of motion are derived from, and that wings light with angelic swiftness.
If the time would permit, how agreeable the task to dwell on the praises of Astronomy: to consider its happy effects as a science, on the human mind. Let the sceptical writers forbear to lavish encomiums on their cobweb Philosophy, liable to be broken by the smallest incident in nature. They tell us it is of great service to mankind, in banishing bigotry and superstition from amongst us. Is not this effectually done by Astronomy? The direct tendency of this science is to dilate the heart with universal benevolence, and to enlarge its views. But then it does this without propagating a single point of doctrine contrary to common sense, or the most cultivated reason. It flatters no fashionable princely vice, or national depravity. It encourages not the libertine by relaxing any of the precepts of morality; nor does it attempt to undermine the foundations of religion. It denies none of those attributes, which the wisest and best of mankind, have in all ages ascribed to the Deity: Nor does it degrade the human mind from that dignity, which is ever necessary to make it contemplate itself with complacency. None of these things does Astronomy pretend to; and if these things merit the aim of Philosophy, and the encouragement of a people, then let scepticism flourish, and Astronomy lie neglected; then let the names of Berkeley, and Hume, become immortal, and that of Newton be lost in oblivion.
I shall conclude this part of my discourse with the words of Dr. Barrow—It is to Astronomy we owe “that we comprehend the huge fabric of the universe, admire and contemplate the wonderful beauty of the divine workmanship, and so learn the invincible force and sagacity of our own minds, as to acknowledge the blessings of heaven with a pious affection.”
I now come, in the last place, to point out some of the defects of Astronomy at this day. Which I am induced to undertake by the hopes I entertain that some of those defects may be removed under the auspices of this society, and of you my fellow citizens, who have so zealously promoted its institution. “The advantages arising from Astronomy, the pleasure attending the study of it, the care with which it was cultivated by many great men among the ancients, and the extraordinary attention paid to it in Europe by the present age,” all contribute to recommend it to your protection, under which we have the best reason to expect that it will flourish.
The mildness of our climate and the serenity of our atmosphere, perhaps not inferior to that of Italy, and likewise our distant situation from the principal observatories in the world (whence many curious phænomena must be visible here that are not likely to be observed any where else) are so many circumstances greatly in our favour.