The Aquarium (Gosse)/Chapter 9
CHAPTER IX.
Ask now the beasts, and they shall teach thee; and the fowls of the air, and they shall tell thee; or speak to the earth, and it shall teach thee; and the fishes of the sea shall declare unto thee. Who knoweth not in all these that the hand of the Lord hath wrought this? Job xii. 7–9
The heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament showeth his handywork. Day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto night showeth knowledge. Psalm xix. 1, 2
THE RIGHT USE OF NATURAL HISTORY.
On a bright sunny morning in September I found myself on a lonely part of the shore about a mile from the town. I had taken the gratification of a bathe, and felt invigorated, but not wearied, with the exertion of swimming. I had come down to this part of the shore to search a particular ledge at the lowest water of spring-tide, but I had somewhat anticipated my time, as the tide had yet a full hour to recede. Compelled therefore to involuntary idleness, I laid my collecting basket on the white sand, and sat down on one of the blocks of red conglomerate, immediately under the ruins of Sandsfoot Castle, which crown the edge of the cliff, already partly fallen, and threatening, at no distant date, to descend, a mere heap of disjointed stones, upon the beach.
My thoughts began to run on the utility, the real legitimate object, of Natural History, the manner in which, and the motives with which it should be studied, with relation to Religion. Many persons of eminence seem to have considered it and kindred studies as the only occupations worthy of exalted minds; as if the acquisition of intellectual knowledge formed the chief end of existence both here and hereafter. While multitudes of humble believers are afraid of all natural science, and stand aloof from it, as if its influence were necessarily adverse to true piety. The truth, as usual, probably lies between the two extremes.
It seems a sufficient reply to the scruples of the pious, but perhaps ill-instructed, persons last-mentioned, to take the Holy Scriptures in our hands, and point out how large a place natural science occupies therein. The Holy Spirit has deigned to employ it in all ages as a vehicle of instruction to man; and there is scarcely a single book in the whole Bible, from which this proposition might not be proved. The most devotional parts of the Book of God, such as the Psalms, particularly those later ones in the collection, which are emphatically "Psalms of Praise;" and the Song of Songs; the direct appeals of Jehovah himself; and the words of Him who spake as never man spake,—would afford us the most abundant materials for the evidence.
On the other hand, he must grossly miss the intent of the Sacred Word, who supposes that even in such passages the communication of natural knowledge is the chief end proposed. Some of the attributes of the Creator, indeed, may be deduced from his works, and man is held responsible for the deduction. But if this be attained, it will go but a little way towards that acquaintance with God, which will set a man "at peace," and to communicate which is the object of the Divine Revelation. A man may be a most learned and complete expounder of the truths of natural theology, and yet be pitiably blind on the all-important subject of a Sinner's justification with God.
Perhaps the best mode of arriving at the true use of the natural sciences, is to examine how they are treated in the Word of God. And it appears to me that there are three distinct modes of instruction, under one or other of which, most if not all of the passages which speak of natural objects may be arranged.
I. The direct testimony which the creatures give to God.
When Jehovah breaks in upon the unsatisfactory conference between Job and his friends, He uses this vehicle of instruction. The construction of the material universe, the phenomena of light and darkness, of heat and cold, of meteors, the revolutions of the heavenly bodies, the structure of the earth, the proportions of land and sea, and especially the economy and instincts of various animals, are appealed to, in a series of interrogations of unparallelled majesty, as witnesses to Him. But here there are two methods of appeal. The one rests on man's ignorance, the other on his knowledge. "Knowest thou the ordinances of heaven? Canst thou send lightnings, that they may go, and say unto thee, Here we are? Knowest thou the time when the wild goats of the rock bring forth?" (Job xxxviii, xxxix.) These are queries calculated to abase and humble proud man. There are thousands of effects which we perceive, but of which all our philosophy fails to discover the cause; so that we must continually say with Agur, "There be three things which are too wonderful for me; yea, four, which I know not" (Prov. xxx. 18) "As thou knowest not the way of the spirit, nor how the bones do grow in the womb of her that is with child; even so thou knowest not the works of God who maketh all." (Eccl. xi. 5.) Here then at the outset our much ignorance ought to humble that pride and self-sufficiency which is too apt to be the accompaniment of a little acquaintance with natural science. While the contemplation of the perfection with which everything is ordained and governed, ought to make us satisfied with the Divine Wisdom, and to check our repinings when its ordinances do not agree with our inclinations. An humble, teachable, child-like spirit, ready to receive every revelation of God, becomes one who looks on the Divine handiwork.
Still we can trace much in the created world, which we are able to understand, much of which we can perceive the reasons, and discern the fitness. And several of the perfections of God may clearly be inferred from these, being reflected by his works as by a mirror. These his perfections, "his eternal power and Godhead," have been manifested in the things that are made, as He himself informs us; for "He hath shewed them unto us," (Rom. i. 19, 20). So that we are without excuse, if we see Him not in them. Thus, the greatness and power of God are insisted on in the passage already alluded to (Job xxxviii–xli); from his formation and controul of the planets, the ocean, the lightning, the hugest and most terrible of beasts, and so forth; as from his entire and absolute command of the elements (Psalm cxlvii. 15–18) in accomplishing his irresistible decrees. The wisdom of God, including his wondrous contrivance in planning, and skill in executing his works, is seen in the multitudinous varieties of form in the creatures, in the correspondence of part with part, in the perfect adaptation of organs to their uses, in the wonderful and unerring instincts of animals, in their relations to the places which they inhabit, and in the general bearing of the details of creation on the order, stability, and well-being of the whole (See Job xxxviii &c.; Psalm civ. 17–24; cxlvii. 4). The eternity of God may be inferred from the circumstance of creation having been prior to all creature experience (Job xxxviii. 21; Psalm civ. 31); and his immutability from the stable order of the universe; from the unerring regularity of the celestial orbs (Psalm lxxxix. 37 civ. 19; Jeremiah xxxi. 35, 36); and from the constant renewal of the face of nature (Psalm cxlviii. 6). The omnipresence and ever watchful providence of God are in like manner taught us by the constant and universal harmony of the vast machinery of creation (Psalm cxxxix. 7—12). But perhaps the most obvious lesson which we learn from the creatures, at least the animate creatures, as it is the one most frequently insisted on in the Word, is the kindness of God, the benevolence of his character, manifested in his tender care for their comfort, and his rich supply of all their need. It is hardly necessary to cite particular passages; almost all those which I have already adduced, have this bearing; but in addition to them there are the teachings of the Lord Jesus, which on several occasions pointed in the same direction. Would He inculcate a confident trust in our Heavenly Father for the supply of needed food? He enforces it by these words:—"Behold the fowls of the air, for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your Heavenly Father feedeth them" (Matthew vi. 26) Are we tempted to be anxious for raiment? The beauteous array of the lilies of the field reads us a homily of the Divine care over them, and therefore a fortiori over us. (verse 30.) Would our gracious Master guard us against "the fear of man which bringeth a snare?" He sends us to the sparrows, and tells us that "not one of them shall fall to the ground without our Father" (Matt. x. 29)
This then is one important use to be made of the study of natural science; it brings us, in some sense, into the presence of God; or rather it gives us cognizance of Him, and reveals to us some of his essential attributes. But here natural theology stops. Beyond this point it cannot go a single step as a guide; though, as a companion, it may still accompany us under the tutelage of another directory. This might have sufficed us if we had stood in Adam's position of unsinning innocence; we might have come to God with our offering of praise gathered from our consideration of his works, and have been accepted. But to come to Him now, with such a tribute and nothing else, is to offer Cain's offering; to plead not guilty to the charge brought against us in the court of Divine Justice, and to ignore the only way of reconciliation. This, I fear, too many of our philosophers and natural theologians do. They offer Cain's "fruit of the ground," without the blood of Abel's "firstling." But it is not and cannot be accepted; for there is no way into the Holiest but by the Blood of Jesus. Natural religion can tell us, ex cathedra, nothing about this. When an anxious conscience demands to know something more of God, something of his feelings towards offenders, of his way of dealing with rebels, whether there is forgiveness with Him, and mercy,—the creatures are mute. One says, It is not in me! and another says, It is not in me! All are ominously dumb on such questions as these.[1]
To enlighten us on these points is the grand object of the Word of God. It reveals to man the full hopelessness of his state, drawing aside the curtain from that hideous scene of eternal and utter ruin into which he had fallen by sin. It reveals also the remedy, God manifest in the flesh, bearing as a substitute human guilt, that through the blood-shedding of one spotless and infinitely perfect Victim, there might be full and free justification for every one that believeth.
When this grand inquiry, this quœstio quastionum, is settled authoritatively by the Divine Oracles, the creatures may again come in, and teach us, subordinately, many useful lessons. We are thus brought to the second method of instruction.
II. Moral lessons conveyed by examples.
Thus the wisest of men sends the sluggard to the ant, that his sloth may be reproved by the contemplation of her diligence (Prov. vi. 6—8). Thus Agur teaches foresight from the same insects, prudence from the conies, order and combination from the locust, assiduous persevering industry from the spider, and propriety and dignity from various other animals (Prov. xxx. 25—31). Thus too the Lord affectingly contrasts the brutish ingratitude of Israel to Himself with the affection of the ox and the ass to their master (Isa. i. 3.); and their stupid ignorance of his coming judgments with the instinctive foresight of the migratory birds (Jer. viii. 7). After the same manner the stubborn wilfulness of the unbroken horse or mule is held up as a character to be avoided by the people of God (Psalm xxxii. 9). By a process of thought somewhat similar, the inspired Preacher reads the stamp of vanity on earthly things, from the perpetual change and decadence of all creatures. (Ecel. i. 4—7)
III. Spiritual parallelism by way of symbol or analogy.
This is a mode of treating natural objects very extensively adopted in the Sacred Word. Truths thus presented find acceptance, where they would have been rejected if offered in an abstract or didactic form; they insinuate themselves insensibly, while the mind is pleased in tracing the resemblance of the shadow to the substance. It is a very ancient notion, that all things have been created, as it were, in series, each of which is, in all its members, a representation or counterpart of all the rest. Or, as the Platonists expressed it, that "the Creator having conceived in Himself the exemplars of all things, produces them from Him in images." The whole system of Scriptural parabolism and typology depends on this analogy, which assuredly exists, though perhaps not to the extent assumed in the above notion.
Examples of this use of natural objects are numberless in the Holy Scriptures, and will occur to every thoughtful reader. Often the resemblance is confined to a single point, and is alluded to in a simile or comparison; as when the effect of a single indiscretion upon character is likened to a dead fly in a pot of ointment (Eccl. x. i); the state of a sinner wandering from God, to that of a sheep going astray (Isa. liii. 6); and the inveterate love of sin, to the incorrigible filthiness of the dog and the swine (2 Peter ii. 22). The Book of Proverbs and the Song of Songs are full of these similes, those of the latter poem often running into the more elaborate allegory.
Somewhat like this is the adoption of natural objects to form types, emblems, or symbols. These commonly suggest many points of parallelism, though they are not always expressed. The various types of the ritual law illustrate this use; as do also the extensive series of images employed in the symbolic prophecies of Ezekiel, Daniel, Zechariah and John. Thus when the Lord Jesus is represented by a Lamb (John i. 29, &c.) the figure alludes to the meekness, purity, submission, and fitness for sacrifice of that animal; and when He stands as the lion (Rev. v. 5), the qualities of power, prevalence, majesty, and terribleness, are comprehended in the symbol. The mystic cherubim,—whether they represent the church or the heavenly angels, or both,—are pictured by various animals (Ezek i.; Rev. iv.); and the change of character which the kingdom of Christ will introduce upon earth, is figured by the harmonious companionship of ferocious ereatures with those of gentle dispositions (Isaiah xi).
But not infrequently the parallelism is drawn out and expanded into so many particulars as to constitute an allegory or parable. Thus Jotham instructs his people by the story of the trees selecting a king (Judges ix.); the prophet Ezekiel sketches the history of Assyria under the emblem of a cedar (Ezek. xxxi.), and Nahum depicts the same ferocious monarchy under that of a lion (Nah. ii. 11-13); the former prophet again represents the Egyptian king as a crocodile, and graphically describes him as caught in the net of the nations (Ezek. xxxii); and gives a most vivid picture of Israel, under the imagery of a lion's whelp trained by the old lioness to the love of blood, and at last taken in the toils (Ezek. xix.). The frequency with which the vine is chosen as the subject of allegorical representation is remarkable; as are also the variety and copiousness of the details which are employed to depict it (See Ps. lxxx.; Isa. v.; Ezek. xv; xix; Matt. xxi; John XV; and several other passages). Many of the parables of the Lord Jesus come under this head; as also a large portion of the Song of Songs.
The examples which I have here selected might be greatly extended; but these are more than sufficient to illustrate the way in which the Word of God sanctions the study of his works. Not only do these passages require a considerable amount of acquaintance with the qualities of external objects, in order to be understood; but they afford us a warrant for a similar use of them. Not only is it legitimate to deduce the existence, and somewhat of the character of God from the creatures, but we may use them as remembrancers to suggest many truths which they could not teach us. Truths and doctrines which we could only learn from the written Word may be vividly brought to mind by the suggestive and emblematic imagery of nature. And thus the world of created things around us may become a mirror continually reflecting heavenly things.
This is one of the happiest and most profitable employments of natural science. I would that it were more familiar, more habitual, to me. It is a good thing to see the Creator in his works; but it is far better to trace in them the God of revelation, the God of Grace, the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, and of all who believe in his name. If we stop short at the former discovery, it will be of little avail to us.
We shall be like a prisoner under sentence of death, who when the king sends him terms of
life and freedom, should occupy himself solely with the genuineness of the credentials, to the utter disregard of the message:—should after a minute examination of the seal, triumphantly exclaim, "Yes! this clearly proves, what I have long suspected, that there is a King!" and should then complacently turn to his dungeon-wall, and hug his chain, without a glance at the document which has been sent to him!
- ↑ "Natural theology is quite overrated by those who would represent it as the foundation of the edifice: it is not that, but rather the taper by which we must grope our way to the edifice. . . . . It is not that natural religion is the premises and Christianity the conclusion; but it is that natural religion creates an appetite which it cannot quell: and he who is urged thereby, seeks for a rest and a satisfaction which he can only obtain in the fulness of the Gospel." Chalmers. Bridgew. Treat. ii. 290, 291.