• After Hipparchus, the rapid movement which had commenced in astronomical science, seems to have been somewhat arrested. Next to him the most distinguished names of the succeeding period are those of Cleomedes and Posidonius. The latter also, as we are told by Strabo, measured an arc of the meridian. He was also distinguished for an orrery,or machine representing the motions of the heavenly bodies, and of which Cicero makes such a striking and beautiful use in his argument for the Divine Existence from evidences of design in the structure of the universe. He supposes this machine of Posidonius exhibited among the inhabitants of Scythia or Britain, and asks how the rudest barbarian could really doubt whether such a structure was the result of chance, or reason; and if so, he proceeds, how can we hesitate to ascribe to a higher reason the architecture of the world itself-Quod si in Scythiam aut in Brittaniam, sphaeram aliquis tulerit hanc, quam, nuper familiaris noster effecit Posidonius, cujus singulæ conversiones idem efficiunt in sole, et in luna, et in quinque stellis errantibus, quod efficitur in coelo singulis diebus et noctibus, quis in illa barbarie dubitet, quin ea sphaera sit perfecta ratione? Hi autem dubitant de mundo, ex quo et oriuntur et fiunt omnia, casune ipse sit effectus aut necessitate aliqua, an ratione ac mente divina?' The passage is so beautiful, and the reasoning at the same time so convincing, that the reader will certainly pardon us for having given it in full.

Ptolemy may be regarded as closing this brilliant school. That astronomer is so well known, that we will not dwell upon him here, except to state, that with all that accurate science by which he was distinguished above his predecessors, he seems nevertheless to have made what may be regarded as a retrograde movement. He was a true Baconian; and in accordance with what he deemed the legitimate laws of philosophizing, he rejected all reasoning except that which came from the inductive observations of the senses. He accordingly repudiated the old Pythagorean or Egyptian theory, which we now know to be the true one, and which Aristarchus and some others had almost placed on the foundation of established or undisputed science. The consequence of this change in Ptolemy from the spirit of former discovery, as exhibited in the noble ideas of Aristarchus and Eratosthenes, was the arrest of astronomical progress for more than one thousand years. Ptolemy became the oracle; and not only was there rejected the doctrine of the sun being the centre of the system, together with the earth's motion on its axis, but also its sphericity began to be called in question, after it had been regarded as established for centuries. Probably there were much less enlightened views in respect to this during the dark ages, than had prevailed four hundred years before Christ; so that Columbus might have some rea1 Cicero De Nat. Deor. Lit. II. 88, 89...

son for regarding himself as the discoverer of a new doctrine, or at least a reviver of an old one. And yet the almost absolute sway which the philosophy of Aristotle then maintained over the human mind prevented the idea of the earth's sphericity from being wholly lost. Of this we want no better proof than is furnished by the writings of the voluminous Albertus Magnus. Among his multifarious treatises on all subjects, we find one expressly devoted to astronomy. It was written, he says himself, at the request of his fellow ecclesiastics, and intended as a compendium of what was regarded as the established science of the day. Aristotle's argument on the roundness of the earth is given without alteration, diminution, or addition. However much, therefore, the idea may have faded from the common mind even of the learned-so much so as indeed to furnish some ground for the claim of new discovery, or at least, of revival, on the part of Columbus, as put forth by his modern biographers-still the universally received authority of Aristotle kept the doctrine in its place in formal treatises on science and philosophy. This is clearly shown in the servile imitation of the good Bishop of Ratisbon, as exhibited in his astronomical text-book for the use of his monks. Learned as he was, he never thought of departing, in any matter of physical science, from the acknowledged teachings of the Stagyrite. He would hardly have been more cautious, in a question in theology, of differing in the least from the decrees of councils, or the decisions of the canon law.

Connected with this doctrine of the earth's sphericity, is the belief in the existence of antipodes. The present article, however, has been extended to so great a length, that the consideration of this, and of some other views of the ancient astronomy, must be deferred to another occasion. Among these may be mentioned the early opinions repecting the motion and position of the earth, (or, in other words, the Pythagorean doctrine of the solar system,) together with the views entertained by some respecting the moon and planets being inhabited, as also the kindred doctrine of the plurality of worlds.

ARTICLE VI.

THEOLOGICAL SYSTEMS MODIFIED BY MENTAL

PECULIARITIES.

By REV. L. CURTIS, Woodbury, Conn.

WHEN We know the temperament and the predominant feelings of a man, we have an index of his philosophical system. Truth is eternal, but the passions of men modify their perceptions of it. What is merely intellectual, as in mathematics, men see alike. All our systems of algebra express the same relations, and may prove the same problems, though by different modes of demonstration. But art, morality, and religion, address not only the intellect, but taste, sensibility, affection; and these are variously modified in different individuals. Hence in those departments of inquiry which come within the range of both sentiment and reason, men give to their productions the stamp of their individuality. True, ideas when brought into a system, assume an intellectual form; they express only the relations of thought to thought. But it must be remembered that before they thus come out into the light, and run in the open channels of creeds and the schools, they have to filter their way through temperament, and passion, and prejudice, like fountain rills which receive their peculiar tinge and properties from the strata through which they pass.

The influence of mental peculiarities in directing and shaping thoughts, may be illustrated by a familiar incident. A man awkwardly stumbles and hurts himself by a fall. One spectator regards him only as an object of compassion. Another would feel pity, but cannot for his life suppress laughter at his ludicrous stumble. Here, the same event arrests attention, but directs it to different incidents, and will ever after awaken different trains of association according to the peculiarities of the individual. And this simple case may show us why we have so many theories in morality and religion. Men view the same facts from different positions, and through the medium of different sensibilities.

Take the example of Augustine and Pelagius. The germs of their respective systems were in their peculiar constitutions and individual experience. Augustine, with an ardent temperament, had, in early life, a warfare between his will and his propensities. But so complete over him had been the mastery of passion, that he denied the freedom of the will. Yet his conscience would not allow him to disclaim all responsibility. Hence he crowded the whole race into the Garden, and made them eat together the same

apple. In that first sin, all were free, but then they lost their freedom by corrupting their nature. This notion of original sin was the basis of his whole system, and all other doctrines were made to harmonize with it.

Pelagius, on the contrary, had a cooler, evener temperament. Conscious that he was free, and having experienced little of the violence of passion, he denied human depravity, and framed his system accordingly. Thus, both, from their peculiar bias, by making one doctrine exclude the other, formed disproportionate and false systems. The same has been true in recent controversies on the same doctrine; and we have learned that one truth so held as to exclude another, is not a truth, as a right in civil society, so exercised as to interfere with another, is not a right; that is, all truths, as well as rights, are consistent with each other.

All false religions take their origin in different elements of the human character. The ideas and passions of men struggle for expression. They obtain it in the forms of art, in social and religious institutions. But the diversified nature of human passions gives shape to these forms. The warrior will have his Mars; the philosopher his Minerva, and the voluptuary his Venus. Buddhism sprung from the gloom, the mysticism and contemplative abstraction of a melancholic temperament, united with a weak moral sense. Conscious of bondage to an animal nature, and also of high aspirations, the Buddhist refers the source of evil, not to the moral depravity of man, but to a Demiurge, or evil being, who united the soul with matter. Hence, the remedy is in afflicting the body by all manner of ascetic severities, and in elevating the soul by contemplation, into a union with God.

But Brahminism, which refers the cause of misery to the wickedness of man, springs from a deeper moral sense, and a more ardent temperament. Hence its sanguinary deities, its penitential self-tortures, and propitiatory sacrifices. And these two elements, variously modified and blended, reappear in every age, and attach themselves to every prevailing system. The Fakir of India, the Anchorite of Egypt, the Oriental Gnostic, and the contemplative Pythagorean have their representatives on every soil and under all systems,-in the Catholic monk of the middle ages; in the Protestant mystic of the seventeenth century; in the ascetic Puritan of New England; and more recently in those of Oxford notoriety. The same element in the human character will find its expression as well in theological systems, as on human countenances. It will take a thousand different forms and complexions, but it will pervert and shape to itself both the dogmas of faith and the formularies of practice. Pure Christianity is no more proof against the constitutional bias than against the perverted will of man; and from her early twilight in the first, to her orient flush in the nineteenth century, the mists of human passion have either darkened her lustre or discolored her ray.

But by the side of the gloomy abstracted Buddhist, and the selfmacerating penitential Brahmin, let us place the easy, good-natured, plump Epicurean of the phlegmatic temperament. What system does he want? No morbid, gloomy imagination shrouds the world to him. An easy conscience prompts no bloody rites of self-torture. His ethereal spirit feels no uncomfortable alliance with a grosser nature, and he will purify the one by solemn abstractions, and starve the other by fasting, when hearty cheer and a good dinner are out of the question. The world, both of matter and spirit, so long as united, is well enough for him, whether made by a Demiurge, a good Being, or by Chance. And the only essential requisite of his ethical and theological system is, that it harmonizes perfectly with the most approved system of Dietetics. He objects not to mysteries, if they are not too deep, and he finds them in perfumes and ragouts. He likes reform in the refectory, and conservatism in the cellar; and he is in favor of the most rigid system of laws, if they prevent cock-crowing in the morning.

Think you, the bilious Cato would have framed Epicureanism? Never! His inflexible severity of character could have no sympathy except with the rigid morality of the Stoic. Cicero would have diluted the bile of the one by the lymph of the other, and mingled also the nerve of Socrates with the sanguine element of his own composition.

The lymphatic and ardent Asiatic may repose for centuries, except at fervid intervals, under the petrified but crumbling columns and venerable domes of old institutions, dreaming composedly of fate. Your sanguine-bilious Anglo-Saxon seldom sleeps, and then with but one eye. To-day he pulls down-to-morrow he rebuilds, and with a better model. He bows to fate, when he has lost from the firmament of his own breast the star of his destiny.

But not only systems, but the manner of constructing them, depends on similar causes. A man like Wolf, of strong reasoning intellect and weak moral sense, forgetting that religion must have its data in the heart, as well as in the intellect, will have a system completely demonstrable or none at all. He takes only an intellectual view of great religious truths which can never be fully comprehended until they are felt. Hence he reasons and doubts and demonstrates till he denies his own existence.

But a Jacobi, from the conscious demand of his higher nature, seizes on the great facts of moral obligation, immortality, and the Divine Existence, as first truths. No matter how he come by them. No matter if he cannot give his ideas a systematic development. These truths need no demonstration. They meet the wants of his moral nature, and he is satisfied. And who will prove him unreasonable? The artist does not ascertain the laws of THIRD SERIES, VOL. V. NO. 2

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