LECT. I than that of the first and greatest of artis an artist in whose incomparable skill the 1 sopher, with a conscious elation, almost himself a participant; inasmuch as he whi covers the secrets of a well-adjusted plan lie hidden from the vulgar eye, regards h as standing next in order to the invento framer of it; he who detects and unfold beautiful intricacies of an ingenious mech dividing the palm of ingenuity with its of constructor. Such views of Deity may 1 tertained, such eulogies of Deity may b nounced, while there is no complacency moral excellencies,-no holy sympathy of with the purity of his nature, the rightec of his government, or the grace of his And without this there is no true de There is the admiration of the philosoph not the piety of the saint. The admira akin to the emotions of the musical an when he is fixed in ecstasy by the full h of an oratorio of Handel: he fancies him yout; and yet there is little, if anything than unwonted sensibility to the powers o -a sensibility which gives itself utteranc the entrancing harmony has died away u ear, rather in terms of rapture at the in skill of the composer, than in the ador the majesty and grace of Him whom the sition professes to extol.-Amongst philo men there have been, and there are, no

PERLOSOPHY AND THE CLOGY.

angtions to these remarks:-mer science has elevated piety, and piety Led scare Our lamentation

ti so natural and seem should ex#

11

!

The discovery of truth

timate object of all philosophy.

but, by direct contrariety, there is no help for it :-each must be regarded as right on his own principles and within his appropriate sphere.

Can anything be imagined more unfortunate than this position of parties to the interests of truth? as if a thing could be true on one ground, and false on another! - true, when tried by this set of principles, and false when tried by that!-theologically right and philosophically wrong,-or theologically wrong and philosophically right! The philosopher, we shall suppose, works out the establishment of some favourite point by his own process of metaphysical reasoning; the divine, by an appeal to his authorities and sources of evidence, arrives at an opposite result: that is not the sage's concern; it pertains to another department,to a different chair,-with which he has nothing to do, and from which, as he does not presume to interfere on his part, he reasonably looks for a reciprocity of non-interference on the part of its occupant. The conclusion to which he has himself come, may, for aught he knows, be bad divinity; but he is confident it is sound philosophy : and this is all that it concerns him to mind.

Now, in the name of common sense, what the only legi- ought to be the sole inquiry with every man who takes to himself, or who deserves from others, the designation of a philosopher? Should not the exclusive question be,--and should not the answer to it be sought with equal simplicity

and earnestness of purpose, WHAT IS TRUTH? What other object can there be, of aught that is entitled to be called philosophy, but the discovery of truth? Of what conceivable use or value are all the investigations and reasonings of philosophy, if not for the ascertaining of truth? And, in order to arrive at truth, is it not the proper business and the imperative duty of the philosopher to leave no quarter unexplored where evidence of any description can be found; nothing whatsoever unexamined that promises to throw even a single ray of light on the subject of his inquiry, one solitary beam on his path that may contribute to guide him to a right result? Can anything be more irrational, more unworthy of a mind that is really honest and in earnest in its desires after truth, than for him who professes to be in pursuit of it to allege, respecting any source of information or department of evidence, that he has nothing to do with it? No man of sound principle and enlightened judgment will ever sit down satisfied with a conclusion which he knows to have been formed on a partial investigation, or so long as there remains unexamined any accessible source of information or of proof which may possibly shake its stability-nay, for aught he knows, may even demonstrate its fallacy, and constrain its rejection. Every thing, without exception, should be regarded as pertaining to the province of the

LECT. I.

LECT. I. genuine philosopher that holds out any promise of conducting him to truth. This should be the ultima Thule of all his voyages of discovery. Like a skilful navigator, he will make use of every information that can enable him to chart out his course, so as to reach it with the greatest safety, directness, and speed. If he misses it in one direction, he will try another, availing himself of every wind and of every current that may bear him to his wished-for destination.

The application of these general principles will be already apparent. In the Bible, we possess a document, by whose contents a great variety both of facts and sentiments are materially affected. It professes to be of the remotest antiquity, and of the very highest authority. Suppose, then, that, by his own process of argumentation, a philosopher has arrived at a particular conclusion respecting the truth or falsehood of some fact or opinion. You say to him-" I find something very different from your conclusion in the statements of this book." He answers, with all imaginable coolness,-" It may be so; that does not come within my legitimate range; it belongs to the province of the divine. It is his business, the best way he can, to make out the consistency of the statements of the Bible with the decisions of philosophy. If there be a discrepancy, it is unfortunate; but I cannot help it-the harmonizing of the two lies not with me, but with him." But why so? What