The Truth of Christianity
by W. H. Turton · English · Gutenberg #42460 · 873,070 chars · public domain (US)
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Title: The Truth of Christianity
Author: W. H. Turton
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Language: English
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OPINIONS OF THE PRESS.
=Secular.=
'The book is a distinctly readable one.'--_Glasgow Herald_,
September 18, 1902.
'Really excellent little work.'--_Daily News_, September 26, 1902.
'We cannot commend it too highly.'--_Western Morning News_, January
2, 1903.
'Carefully thought-out little work ... written with frank and
tolerant impartiality.'--_Standard_, May 26, 1905.
'The arguments are admirably marshalled; difficulties are not
evaded, but met fairly.'--_Westminster Review_, August, 1905.
'We welcome a new edition.... The appeal of the book is evidently
one to common sense, and the success it has met is fully deserved.
There is a healthy lay atmosphere about Colonel Turton's arguments
which renders them, we fancy, peculiarly effective.'--_Pall Mall
Gazette_, March 11, 1907.
'It is difficult to know whether to admire most the logical
precision with which he marshals his facts, and enforces his
conclusions, or the charming candour, and freshness of style, which
make his book so readable.'--_Liverpool Daily Post_, March 14, 1907.
'This is a new edition, thoroughly revised, of LIEUTENANT-COLONEL
TURTON'S famous book.... We are specially struck with the detached
manner in which he examines the case; he holds the scales evenly,
and is not rhetorical. Anyone who has any power of reasoning at all
can follow him clearly from start to finish.'--_Bristol Times and
Mirror_, February 18, 1907.
'It is a book for the hour, and needs to be circulated by thousands
... straightforward, manly, and convincing.'--_Schoolmaster_, March
27, 1909.
=Church of England.=
'The book is of considerable value to everyone who is concerned with
the controversy on Christian Evidences; it presents a perfect
storehouse of facts and the conclusions which may be legitimately
drawn from them.'--_Church Times_, November 2, 1900.
'We have already expressed our high opinion of this work--the
author of which, it may be mentioned, is serving in South
Africa.'--_Guardian_, October 17, 1900.
'This thoughtful and convincing treatise.... We are glad to be able
to give our good word for the book, which should be found in the
catalogue of every public library in the kingdom. It is a volume
admirably suited for a gift-book to young men. It furnishes an
armoury of invincible weapons against the scepticism and
semi-scepticism which are rampant among us.'--_English Churchman_,
November 1, 1900.
'This very excellent volume.... We strongly recommend this book to
the clergy for their own use and for lending to thoughtful and
painstaking readers.'--_Church Union Gazette_, January, 1901.
'It is one of the best books of its class, readable, candid,
convincing, and thorough. It would be cheering news to hear that it
had been widely read. The book will continue to make its way; and
all Christians will rejoice that it should do so.'--_Church
Intelligencer_, October, 1905.
'We give a hearty welcome to this revised edition. It is admirably
suited for general use.'--_Churchman_, February, 1909.
'This is a textbook on Christian Evidence we would readily place in
the hands of the lay worker as an essential part of his
equipment.'--_Lay Reader_, December, 1912.
'There is no padding, and no unnecessary rhetoric. All the available
space is filled with good solid reasoning, put in simple language
which an intelligent artisan can follow as easily as an educated
person.'--_Church Family Newspaper_, October 3, 1902.
'Throughout the book the reader will be delighted with the sanity
and level-headedness of the writer, whose frequent appeals to common
sense are remarkably telling and effective.'--_Birmingham Diocesan
Magazine_, October, 1907.
'The brilliancy of the author does not consist in his rhetoric or
appeal, but in the really brilliant fairness which he displays
towards the other side, in the accuracy with which he analyses each
situation, and in the clear and simple arguments which he
adduces.'--_Church Standard_, January, 1906.
'Personally, we have never met with any book which can be more
confidently recommended.'--_Church Army Review_, December, 1912.
'This is the kind of book which strengthens believers and makes
converts. It is one which should be placed within the reach of every
lad at that period of his life when he begins to think for
himself.'--_The_ (Church Lads') _Brigade_, October, 1905.
=Roman Catholic.=
'We most heartily wish that a copy of it could be found
in the library of every Catholic family, school, and
institution.'--_Catholic Times_, January, 1909 (sixth notice).
'This excellent book, ... well written, attractive in its style,
clearly thought out, and convincing.'--_Tablet_, August 29, 1903.
'This is a work of uncommon merit.... The style is clear and makes
for pleasant reading. We wish many of our Catholic young men would
try and analyse a chapter in COLONEL TURTON'S helpful defence of
Christianity.'--_Universe_, July 21, 1905.
'Having read and thoroughly approved every page of the book, we can
well believe that many clergy and teachers are finding it a useful
compendium of replies to all the chief arguments advanced against
Christianity. Though written by a non-Catholic, we can most strongly
recommend it as a book of the highest merit.'--_Catholic Herald_,
February 19, 1909.
'A capital book already much used by priests in this country, and to
be found upon the shelves of very many of our clerical libraries.
But we wish that the Catholic paterfamilias would procure it too,
and recommend it to his boys ... There is a masculine ring about it,
and no shuffling over difficulties.'--_Catholic Fireside_, March 23,
1907.
=Presbyterian.=
'One does not know what to admire most in the book--the accurate
knowledge gathered from so many fields, the clear reasoning,
the sound judgment, or the fine spirit which animates the
whole.'--_Christian Leader_, June 15, 1905.
'Admirably arranged and clearly expressed.'--_Weekly Leader_,
October 6, 1902.
'One of the best books of its kind.'--_St. Andrew_, June 1, 1905.
'This is an admirable summary. It is clear, simple, and
well arranged ... The style also makes it extremely
readable.'--_Presbyterian_, March, 1906.
=Nonconformist.=
'He is eminently fair to opponents, clear in statement, and
convincing in argument for his own case, and his standpoint, is
unmistakably evangelical. His style suits his work, being calm,
lucid, and simple.'--_Methodist Times_, August 22, 1901.
'Is a tried favourite, and has served the Kingdom in many lands.
There is no book of the class known to us so complete and
conclusive.'--_Methodist Recorder_, February 28, 1907.
'It deserves all the good that has been said of it.'--_United
Methodist_, November 19, 1908.
'One characteristic may be singled out for notice--the writer's
extraordinary alertness in the use of the most recent material. He
seems to be continually on the watch for discoveries and
suggestions, and to be able to utilise them promptly and
skilfully.'--_Baptist_, January 21, 1909.
'On the whole, it is the best popular summary that we have met. It
excels in definiteness of purpose, in clearness of statement, in
moderation, and in conciseness.'--_Baptist Times_, October 24, 1902.
'The book is one that every young man would do well to read. Its
absolute fairness, convincing logic, and withal extreme simplicity
are such as cannot fail to establish the faith of multitudes.'
_Y.M.C.A. Review_, December, 1912.
'The author's line of argument is irresistible in its rugged force.
... A fascinating book.'--_Social Gazette_ (Salvation Army), April
27, 1907.
=Agnostic.=
'Again, as in 1902, we commend LIEUTENANT-COLONEL TURTON'S book as a
handy epitome of nearly all conceivable arguments in support of
Christianity. The twenty-four chapters champion twenty-four
propositions, and the whole thing is worked out as systematically as
a problem in a successful student's honours paper. ...However, it is
of no avail to argue such points with our well-meaning and
unimaginative Lieutenant-Colonel; and we will merely remark that he
is quite a gentleman, and uses no disdainful language towards the
poor Agnostic.'--_Literary Guide and Rationalistic Review_, March,
1907.
'This remarkable volume contains over 500 pages, with scarcely a
dull one among them. The author's easy flow of unlaboured thought,
his facility of expression, and his fine gift of exposition, carry
the reader on in spite of himself.... Differ as we may from much
that is in the gallant Colonel's volume, we gladly pay him the
respect due to frankness, cleverness, and transparency of mind and
motive, and thank him for putting his own side of a great
subject so simply and interestingly, and without prejudice or
bitterness.'--_New Age_, August 3, 1905.
THE TRUTH OF CHRISTIANITY
THE
TRUTH OF CHRISTIANITY
BEING AN
Examination of the More Important Arguments
For and Against Believing in that Religion
COMPILED FROM VARIOUS SOURCES BY
LT.-COL. W. H. TURTON, D.S.O.
LATE ROYAL ENGINEERS
NINTH EDITION FORTIETH THOUSAND
(_Carefully revised throughout_)
LONDON
WELLS GARDNER, DARTON & CO., LTD.
3 AND 4, PATERNOSTER BUILDINGS, E.C.
AND 44, VICTORIA STREET, S.W.
1919
_First Edition published Oct., 1895. }1,000 copies._
_Cheap " " Oct., 1897._ }
_Third " carefully revised " Sept., 1900._ 1,000 "
_Fourth " " " " Mar., 1902._ 2,000 "
_Fifth " " " " Mar., 1905._ 3,000 "
_Sixth " " " " Jan., 1907._ 5,000 "
_Seventh " " " " Nov., 1908._ 8,000 "
_Eighth " " " " Nov., 1912._ 10,000 "
_Ninth " " " " Oct., 1919._ 10,000 "
TRANSLATIONS:
_Japanese Edition published Dec., 1910. 500 copies._
_Italian " " Oct., 1915._ 1,000 "
_Chinese " shortened " June, 1919._ 1,000 "
_Arabic " " Oct., 1919._ 1,000 "
PREFACE TO NINTH EDITION.
I have again carefully revised the whole book. Some additions have
been made here and there, especially in Chapter XIX.; but as a rule
the alterations have been merely to shorten and condense the
arguments where this could be done without spoiling them, and to
simplify the language as much as possible. The book is thus shorter,
and I hope simpler than any previous edition. Another slight
improvement, which will commend itself to most purchasers, is
reducing the price to 2s. net. The work, as before stated, lays no
claim to originality, and I have not hesitated to borrow arguments
and illustrations from any source. The references to the Bible are
all to the Revised Version.
W. H. T.
29, CALEDONIA PLACE,
CLIFTON, BRISTOL,
_October 1, 1919_.
CONTENTS
PART I.
_NATURAL RELIGION._
CHAPTER PAGE
I. THAT THE UNIVERSE HAD A CREATOR 3
II. THAT THE CREATOR DESIGNED THE UNIVERSE 10
III. THAT THE EXISTENCE OF GOD IS EXTREMELY PROBABLE 30
IV. THAT MAN IS A FREE AND RESPONSIBLE BEING 38
V. THAT GOD TAKES AN INTEREST IN MAN'S WELFARE 57
VI. THAT GOD MIGHT MAKE SOME REVELATION TO MAN 82
VII. THAT A MIRACULOUS REVELATION IS CREDIBLE 98
PART II.
_THE JEWISH RELIGION._
VIII. THAT THE ACCOUNT OF THE CREATION WAS DIVINELY REVEALED 117
IX. THAT ITS ORIGIN WAS CONFIRMED BY MIRACLES 137
X. THAT ITS HISTORY WAS CONFIRMED BY MIRACLES 167
XI. THAT ITS HISTORY WAS CONFIRMED BY PROPHECIES 186
XII. THAT THE JEWISH RELIGION IS PROBABLY TRUE 201
PART III.
_THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION._
XIII. THAT THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION IS CREDIBLE 221
XIV. THAT THE FOUR GOSPELS ARE GENUINE FROM EXTERNAL TESTIMONY 252
XV. THAT THE GOSPELS ARE GENUINE FROM INTERNAL EVIDENCE 265
XVI. THAT THE GOSPELS ARE GENUINE FROM THE EVIDENCE OF THE ACTS 287
XVII. THAT THE RESURRECTION OF CHRIST IS PROBABLY TRUE 301
XVIII. THAT THE FAILURE OF OTHER EXPLANATIONS INCREASES THIS
PROBABILITY 324
XIX. THAT THE OTHER NEW TESTAMENT MIRACLES ARE PROBABLY TRUE 349
XX. THAT THE JEWISH PROPHECIES CONFIRM THE TRUTH OF
CHRISTIANITY 374
XXI. THAT THE CHARACTER OF CHRIST CONFIRMS THE TRUTH OF
CHRISTIANITY 396
XXII. THAT THE HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY CONFIRMS ITS TRUTH 415
XXIII. THAT ON THE WHOLE THE OTHER EVIDENCE SUPPORTS THIS
CONCLUSION 436
XXIV. THAT THE THREE CREEDS ARE DEDUCIBLE FROM THE NEW
TESTAMENT 458
XXV. THAT THE TRUTH OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION IS EXTREMELY
PROBABLE 483
INDEX OF TEXTS 495
INDEX OF SUBJECTS 502
PART I.
_NATURAL RELIGION._
CHAP. I. THAT THE UNIVERSE HAD A CREATOR.
" II. THAT THE CREATOR DESIGNED THE UNIVERSE.
" III. THAT THE EXISTENCE OF GOD IS EXTREMELY PROBABLE.
" IV. THAT MAN IS A FREE AND RESPONSIBLE BEING.
" V. THAT GOD TAKES AN INTEREST IN MAN'S WELFARE.
" VI. THAT GOD MIGHT MAKE SOME REVELATION TO MAN.
" VII. THAT A MIRACULOUS REVELATION IS CREDIBLE.
CHAPTER I.
THAT THE UNIVERSE HAD A CREATOR
(_A._) THE ORIGIN OF THE UNIVERSE.
Explanation of the universe, its origin, a Free Force.
(1.) The Philosophical Argument. If the universe had
not an origin, all events must have occurred before,
and this seems incredible.
(2.) The Scientific Argument. From the process of evolution
and the degradation of energy.
(_B._) THE CREATOR OF THE UNIVERSE.
The Single Supernatural Cause, which originated it.
It is proposed in this Essay to consider the reasons for and against
believing in the truth of Christianity, meaning by that term, as
will be explained later on (Chapter XIII.), the doctrines contained
in the Three Creeds. For convenience the subject has been divided
into three Parts, Natural Religion, the Jewish Religion, and the
Christian Religion; but the second of these may be omitted by anyone
not specially interested in that subject. At present we are
considering _Natural Religion_ only, which deals with the great
questions of the Existence of God, and the probability, or
otherwise, of His making some Revelation to man. And we will
commence at the very beginning, though the first chapter will
unfortunately have to be rather technical.
(_A._) THE ORIGIN OF THE UNIVERSE.
Now by the universe is meant the _material_ universe, which includes
everything that exists (earth, sun, stars, and all they contain),
with the exception of immaterial or spiritual beings, if there are
any such. And by this universe having had an _origin_ is meant that
it was at some time acted on by a _Free_ Force, that is to say, by a
force which does not always act the same under the same
circumstances, but which can act or not as it pleases. No doubt such
a force would be totally different from all the known forces of
nature; but there is no difficulty in understanding what is meant by
the term, since man himself _seems_ to possess such a force in his
own free will. He _seems_ for instance to be able to raise his hand,
or not, as he likes. We are not, of course, assuming that man's will
is really free, but merely that the idea of a free force, able to
act or not as it pleases, is well known and generally understood.
Hence the statement that the universe had an origin means that at
some time or other it was acted on by such a Free Force; in other
words, it has not existed for ever under the fixed and invariable
forces of nature, and without any external interference. We have now
to consider the two arguments in favour of this, which may be called
the Philosophical and the Scientific argument.
(1.) _The Philosophical Argument._
By this is meant that, when we reflect on the subject, it seems
inevitable that if the universe had not an origin, all present
events must have occurred before. The reason for thinking this is,
that if all free force is excluded, it is plain that matter must be
eternal, since its coming into existence at any time could not have
been a necessity, and must therefore have been due to some free
force. It is equally plain that what we call the forces of nature
and the properties of matter must also be eternal, since any
alteration in them at any time would also have required a free
force. And from this it follows that no _new_ event can happen
_now_. For every event which the forces of nature could possibly
bring about of themselves would, since they have been acting from
eternity, have been brought about long ago. Therefore present events
are not new, but must have occurred before.
This is no doubt a possible theory. For example, if we assume that
the universe will in process of time work itself back into precisely
the same condition in which it was long ago as a _nebula_ or
anything else, when it will begin again precisely the same changes
as before; then, and only then, is it possible that it has been
going on doing so from all eternity. But this theory, though
possible, is certainly not credible. For it requires that all
events, past, present, and future, down to the minutest detail, have
occurred, and will occur, over and over again. They must, in fact,
form a _recurring series_. And when applied to a single example, say
the history of the human race, this is seen to be quite incredible.
We must hence conclude that the universe has not existed for ever
under the fixed forces of nature, and without any external
interference; in other words, that it had an origin. No doubt there
are difficulties in regard to this theory also, but they are mostly
due to our ignorance. We may not know, for instance, whether matter
itself is eternal. Nor may we know why, if a free force once acted
on the universe, it never apparently does so at present, and still
less can we picture to ourselves what such a force would be like;
though the difficulty here is no greater than that of picturing a
force which is not free, say gravity.
But our ignorance about all this is no reason for doubting what we
do know. And it appears to the writer that we do know that, unless
present events have occurred before, which seems incredible, the
universe cannot have existed for ever without some _Free Force_
having acted on it at some time. In short, it seems less difficult
to believe that the universe had an origin than to believe that it
had not.
(2.) _The Scientific Argument._
And this conclusion is greatly strengthened by two scientific
theories now generally accepted--that of the process of evolution
and the degradation of energy; both of which seem to show that the
universe had a beginning.
The first subject, that of _Evolution_, will be discussed more fully
in the next chapter. All that need be said here is, that the atoms
of the universe, with their evolving properties, cannot have existed
eternally; for then the course of evolution would have commenced in
the eternal past, and would therefore have been finished now. But
this is certainly not the case, and evolution is still in progress,
or at all events was so a few thousand years ago; and a state of
progress cannot be _eternal_. It thus differs from a mere state of
_change_ which as we have seen, might be eternal, if the changes
were recurring. But a state of _progress_, in which the changes are
not recurring, but all tend in one direction, can never be eternal.
It must have had a commencement. And this commencement cannot have
been a necessity, so it must have been due to some Free Force. In
short, evolution requires a previous _Evolver_; since it cannot have
been going on for ever, and it cannot have started itself.
The other theory, that of the _Degradation of Energy_, is that all
energy (motion, etc.) tends to _heat_; the simplest instance being
that of two bodies hitting each other when a certain amount of
motion is lost, and a corresponding amount of heat is produced. And
heat tends to be equally distributed. The heat, for instance, which
is now stored up in the sun will in process of time be distributed
throughout space, and the same applies to the whole universe; so
that everything will eventually have the same temperature. And
though this may take millions of years, they are yet nothing to
eternity. Therefore, if the universe with all its present forces has
existed from eternity, and without any external interference, it
must have been reduced to this state long ago. So if this theory is
correct (and the only reason for doubting it, is the curious
behaviour of _radium_), it seems not only probable, but certain,
that the universe had an origin.
But an objection has now to be considered. It may be said that the
above reasoning is merely another form of the old argument,
'Everything must have a cause, and therefore there must have been a
First Cause;' the obvious answer to which is, that then this First
Cause must also have had a cause, and so on indefinitely. But this
is not the case; for the alleged First Cause is of a different
_kind_ from all the others. It is a _Free_ Cause, whereas natural
causes are not free, but are themselves effects of other natural
causes; and these, again, of previous ones. What we want is a cause
which is _not_ also an effect, in other words, a cause which is not
moved by anything else, but is moved by itself, or _Free_. When once
we get to such a cause as this, there is no need for a previous one.
This objection, then, cannot be maintained, and we therefore decide
that the universe had an origin. And all we know at present about
the Force which originated it, is that it was a Free Force. And the
conclusion at which we have arrived may be concisely expressed by
saying, that before all natural causes which acted necessarily,
there was a _First Cause_ which acted voluntarily.
(_B._) THE CREATOR OF THE UNIVERSE.
We have next to consider what else we can ascertain in regard to
this First Cause. To begin with it can scarcely be disputed at the
present day that it was a _Single_ Cause, as modern science has
completely established the unity which pervades the universe. We
know for instance that the same materials are used everywhere, many
of the elements which exist on this earth being also found in the
sun and stars. Then there is the force of gravity, which is
all-embracing, and applies equally to the most distant stars, and
to the most minute objects on this earth; and many other examples
might be given. But it is scarcely necessary, as everyone now admits
that the universe (as the word implies) is one whole, and this
plainly points to a _Single_ First Cause.
Nor can it be disputed that this First Cause was _Supernatural_,
which merely means that it differs from natural forces in being
_free_; for this is exactly what we have shown. It was thus no kind
of gravitation, or electricity, or anything of that sort. All these
and all similar forces would always act the same under the same
conditions; while the Force we are considering was of a different
kind. It was a _Free_ Force, a Force which voluntarily chose to
originate the universe at a certain time. And such a Force must
clearly have been Supernatural.
In conclusion we will call this _Single Supernatural Cause_, which
originated the universe, its _Creator_. And if it be objected that
the universe may have had no _origin_, owing to some Free Force
having been always acting on it, such a Force must also be Single
and Supernatural, and may equally well be called its Creator.
CHAPTER II.
THAT THE CREATOR DESIGNED THE UNIVERSE.
Design means voluntary action, combined with foreknowledge.
(_A._) EVIDENCE OF DESIGN.
Seems overwhelming throughout organic nature; and we
are not appealing to it to show the Creator's existence,
but merely His foreknowledge.
(1.) The example of a watch: its marks of design show that
it had a maker who foresaw its use.
(2.) The example of an eye: this also has marks of design,
and must also have had a Designer.
(3.) The evidence cumulative.
(_B._) THE EVOLUTION OBJECTION.
(1.) The meaning of Evolution: it is a process, not a cause.
(2.) The effect of Evolution on the present argument: it
increases the evidence for design.
(_C._) THE FREE WILL OBJECTION.
(1.) Its great improbability: for several reasons.
(2.) Free Will and Foreknowledge not inconsistent; so
the chief argument in its favour cannot be maintained.
Conclusion.
Having decided that the universe had a Creator, we have next to
examine whether the Creator designed the universe. Now by _Design_
is meant any voluntary action, combined with foreknowledge of the
results that will follow from such action. So when the Creator
originated the universe, if He foreknew the results of His action,
it would be to _design_ those results, as the word is here used. And
these include, either directly or indirectly, the whole course of
the universe, everything that exists, or that ever has existed in
the world.
By the word _foreknew_ it is not meant that the Creator necessarily
_thought_ of all future events, however insignificant, such as the
position of the leaves on each tree; but merely that He was able to
foresee any of them He wished, and in this sense foreknew them.
Compare the case of memory; a man may be able to remember a thousand
events in his life; but they are not all before his mind's eye at
the same time, and the insignificant ones may never be. In the same
way the Creator may have been able to foresee all future events in
the world's history without actually thinking about them. At all
events, this is the kind of foresight, or rather foreknowledge,
which is meant to be included in the term _design_.
(_A._) EVIDENCE OF DESIGN.
Passing on now to the evidence of design, this is of the most varied
kind, especially throughout organic nature, where we find countless
objects, which seem to point to the foresight of the Cause which
produced them. The evidence is indeed so vast that it is difficult
to deal with it satisfactorily. Perhaps the best way will be to
follow the well-known _watch_ argument of Paley, first showing by
the example of a watch what it is that constitutes marks of design;
next, how a single organ, say the human eye, possesses these marks;
and then, the cumulative nature of the evidence.
(1.) _The example of a watch._
Now, when we examine a watch, we see that it has marks of design,
because the several parts are put together for a _purpose_. They are
so shaped and arranged as to produce motion, and this motion is so
regulated as to point out the hour of the day. While, if they had
been differently shaped or differently arranged, either no motion at
all would have been produced, or none which would have answered the
same purpose. And from this, we may infer two things. The first is
that the watch had a _maker_ somewhere and at some time; and the
second is that this maker understood its construction, and
_designed_ it for the purpose which it actually serves.
These conclusions, it will be noticed, would not be altered by the
fact that we had never seen a watch made; never knew a man capable
of making one; and had no idea how the work could be done. All this
would only exalt our opinion of the unknown watchmaker's skill, but
would raise no doubt in our minds either as to his existence, or as
to his having made the watch for the purpose of telling the time.
Nor should we feel that the watch was explained by being told that
every part of it worked in strict accordance with natural laws, and
could not possibly move otherwise than it did; in fact, that there
was no design to account for. We should feel that, though the action
of every part might be in strict accordance with law, yet the fact
that all these parts agreed in this one particular, that they all
helped to enable the watch to tell the time, did show design
somewhere. In other words, we should feel that the properties of
matter could only partly account for the watch, and that it required
a skilful watchmaker as well, who made use of these properties so as
to enable the watch to tell the time.
Now suppose on further investigation we found that the watch also
possessed the unexpected property of producing in the course of its
movements another watch very like itself. It might, for instance,
contain a mould in which the new works were cast, and some machinery
which fitted them together. What effect would this have on our
former conclusions? It would plainly increase our admiration for the
watch, and for the skill of its unknown maker. If without this extra
property, the watch required a skilful maker, still more would it do
so with it. And this conclusion would not be altered by the fact
that very possibly the watch we were examining was itself produced
in this way from some previous one, and perhaps that from another.
We should feel that, though each watch might be thus produced from a
previous one, it was in no sense _designed_ by it. And hence this
would not in any way weaken our conviction as to the existence of a
watchmaker somewhere and at some time who designed the whole series.
This, then, is the watch argument. Wherever we find marks of design,
there must be a designer somewhere; and this conclusion cannot be
altered by any other considerations whatever. If, then, we find in
nature any objects showing marks of design, the obvious inference is
that they also had a designer. And this inference, it should be
noticed, does not depend on any supposed _analogy_ between the works
of man and the works of nature. The example of the watch is merely
given _as an example_, to show clearly what the design argument is;
but the argument itself would be just as sound if man never had
made, and never could make, any object showing marks of design.
Moreover, to complete the example, we must assume that the
_existence_ of the watchmaker, and the fact of his having made the
watch, are already admitted for other reasons. And we are only
appealing to these marks of design to show that _when_ he made the
watch, he must have known that it would be able to tell the time,
and presumably made it for that purpose. And in this case the
inference seems, if possible, to be still stronger.
(2.) _The example of an eye._
We will next consider the _human eye_ as an example of natural
organs showing marks of design. It is a well-known instance, but
none the worse on that account. Now, in order to see anything
clearly, it is necessary that an image or picture of it should be
formed at the back of the eye, that is, on the _retina_ from whence
the impression is communicated to the brain. And the eye is an
instrument used for producing this picture, and in some respects
very similar to a telescope. And its marks of design are abundant
and overwhelming.
To begin with, in both the eye and the telescope the rays of light
have to be _refracted_, so as to produce a distinct image; and the
lens, and humours in the eye, which effect this, somewhat resemble
the lenses of a telescope. While the _different_ humours through
which the rays pass, prevent them from being partly split up into
different colours. The same difficulty had of course to be overcome
in telescopes, and this does not seem to have been effected till it
occurred to some one to imitate in glasses made from different
materials the effect of the different humours in the eye.[1]
[Footnote 1: Encyc. Brit., 9th edit., vol. xxiii., p. 137.]
In the next place, the eye has to be suited to perceive objects at
different _distances_, varying from inches to miles. In telescopes
this would be done either by putting in another lens, or by some
focussing arrangement. In the eye it is effected by slightly
altering the _shape_ of the lens, making it more or less convex. A
landscape of several miles is thus brought within a space of half an
inch in diameter, though the objects it contains, at least the
larger ones, are all preserved, and can each be distinguished in its
size, shape, colour, and position. Yet the same eye that can do this
can read a book at the distance of a few inches.
Again, the eye has to be adapted to different _degrees of light_.
This is effected by the _iris_, which is a kind of screen in the
shape of a ring, capable of expanding or contracting so as to alter
the size of the central hole or pupil, yet always retaining its
circular form. Moreover, it is somehow or other self-adjusting; for
if the light is too strong, the pupil at once contracts. It is
needless to point out how useful such a contrivance would be in
photography, and how much we should admire the skill of its
inventor.
Again, the eye can perceive objects in different _directions_; for
it is so constructed that it can turn with the greatest rapidity
right or left, up or down, without moving the head. It is also
provided _in duplicate_, the two eyes being so arranged that though
each can see separately should the other get injured, they can, as a
rule, see together with perfect harmony. Lastly, our admiration for
the eye is still further increased when we remember that it was
formed _before birth_. It was what is called a _prospective_ organ,
of no use at the time when it was made; and this, when carefully
considered, shows design more plainly than anything else.
On the whole, then, the eye appears to be an optical instrument of
great ingenuity; and the conclusion that it must have been made by
someone, and that whoever made it must have known and designed its
use, seems inevitable.
These conclusions, it will be noticed, like the similar ones in
regard to the watch, are not affected by our ignorance on many
points. We may have no idea as to how an eye can be made, and yet
feel certain that, as it exists, it must have been made by someone,
and that its maker designed it for the purpose it serves.
Nor should we feel that the eye is explained by being told that
every part of it has been produced in strict accordance with natural
laws, and could not have been otherwise; in fact, that there is no
design to account for. No doubt every single part has been thus
produced, and if it stood alone there might be little to account
for. But it does not stand alone. All the various and complicated
parts of the eye agree in this one remarkable point, and in this one
only, that they all help to enable man to see; and it is this that
requires explanation. We feel that there must be some connection
between the cause which brought all these parts together and the
fact of man's seeing. In other words, the result must have been
designed.
Nor does the fact that every organism in nature is produced from a
previous one of the same kind alter this conclusion. Indeed, as was
shown with reference to the watch, it can only increase our
admiration for the skill which must have been spent on the first
organism of each kind. Moreover, no part of the design can be
attributed to the _parents_. If, for instance, the eyes of a child
show design, it is not due to the intelligence or designing power of
its father and mother. _They_ have not calculated the proper shape
for the lens, or the mechanism of the iris, and as a rule know
nothing whatever about it. And the same applies to _their_ parents,
so that our going back ever so far in this way brings us no nearer
to what we are in search of. The design is still unaccounted for, we
still want a designer.
We hence conclude that the marks of design in the eye afford, at all
events, what seems to be a very strong argument in favour of a
_Designer_. And if only one eye existed in the universe, and there
were no other mark of design in nature, this conclusion would be
none the less clear.
(3.) _The evidence cumulative._
But the argument is far stronger than this. It is cumulative in a
_triple_ sense. To begin with, an eye is found not in one man only,
but in millions of men, each separately showing marks of design, and
each separately requiring a designer. Secondly, the human eye is
only one example out of hundreds in the human body. The ear or the
mouth would lead to the same conclusion, and so would the lungs or
the heart. While, thirdly, human beings are but one out of many
thousands of organisms in nature, all bearing marks of design, and
showing in some cases an even greater ingenuity than in the human
eye. Of course, as a rule, the lower organisms, being less
complicated than the higher ones, have less striking marks of
design, but their existence is equally clear; the flowers of plants
affording some well-known examples.
Nor is this all, for even the world itself bears traces of having
been designed. Had it been a mere chaos, we might have thought that
the Creator was unaware of what would be the result of His action.
But a planet like our earth, so admirably adapted for the support of
life, can scarcely have been brought about by accident.
We conclude then, on reviewing the whole subject, that there are
countless objects in nature, more especially organs like the eye,
which bear strong marks of having been _designed_. And then the
Unity of Nature, and the fact that all its parts act on one another
in so many ways (the eye for instance being useless without light),
shows that if anything has been designed, everything has been
designed. Now there are two, and only two, important objections to
this argument, which may be called the _Evolution_ and the _Free
Will_ objection.
(_B._) THE EVOLUTION OBJECTION.
The first objection is that the whole of nature has been brought
about in accordance with fixed laws by the process of _Evolution_.
Therefore, though it is possible the Creator may have foreseen
everything that exists; yet the apparent marks of design in nature,
being all the necessary results of these laws, do not afford any
evidence that He actually did so. And before discussing this
objection we must first consider what we mean by laws of nature and
natural forces.
Now by a _law of nature_ is meant any regular, or uniform action
which we observe in nature. For example, it is called a law, or rule
of nature that (with certain exceptions) heat should expand bodies,
which merely means that we see that it does so. In other words, we
observe that heat is followed by expansion, and we therefore assume
that the one is the cause of the other. But calling it a law of
nature for heat to expand bodies, does not in any way account for
its doing so. And the same is true in other cases, so that a law of
nature _explains_ nothing, it is merely a summary of the facts to be
explained.
It should also be noticed that a law of nature _effects_ nothing. It
has no coercive, or compelling power whatever. The law of
gravitation, for instance, has never moved a planet, any more than
the rules of navigation have steered a ship. In each case it is some
power or force acting according to law which does it. And _natural
forces_ are those which, as far as we know, _always_ act according
to some fixed law. They have no freedom of choice, they cannot act
or not as they like; they must always and everywhere act the same
under the same circumstances. We pass on now to the subject of
Evolution, first considering its meaning, and then its effect on the
present argument.
(1.) _The meaning of Evolution._
Now by the term Evolution is meant to be included the processes of
Organic Evolution, Natural Selection, and the Survival of the
Fittest. The former may be described as meaning that all the
different forms of life now existing, or that ever have existed on
this earth, are the descendants of earlier and less developed forms,
and those again of simpler ones; and so on, till we get back to the
earliest form of life, whatever that may have been.
And the theories of _Natural Selection_ and _the Survival of the
Fittest_ explain how this may have taken place. For among the slight
modifications that would most likely occur in every organism, those,
and only those, would be perpetuated which were of advantage to it
in the struggle for existence. And they would in time, it is
assumed, become hereditary in its descendants, and thus higher forms
of life would be gradually produced. And the value of these theories
is that they show how Organic Evolution may have taken place without
involving any sudden change, such as a monkey giving birth to a man.
We must remember, however, that the subject is far from settled; and
even now naturalists are beginning to doubt whether all the
modifications were in reality very slight. But still, speaking
broadly, this is the theory we have to discuss.
It will, of course, be noticed that Evolution is thus a _process_,
and not a _cause_. It is the method in which certain changes have
been brought about, and not the cause which brings them about. Every
slight modification must have been caused somehow. When such
modifications were caused, then Natural Selection can explain how
the useful ones alone were perpetuated, but it cannot explain how
the modifications themselves arose. On the contrary, it supposes
them as already existing, otherwise there would be nothing to select
from. Natural Selection, then, rather weeds than plants, and would
be better described as Natural _Rejection_. It merely shows how, as
a rule, among the various modifications in an organism, some good
and some bad, the useless ones would disappear, and the useful ones
would remain; in other words, how the fittest would survive. But
this survival of the fittest does not explain in the slightest
degree how the fitness arose. If, as an extreme example, out of a
hundred animals, fifty had eyes and fifty had not, it is easy to
understand how those that had eyes would be more likely to have
descendants; but this does not explain how they first got eyes. And
the same applies in other cases.
How, then, did the variations in each organism first arise? In
common language they may be ascribed to chance; but, strictly
speaking, such a thing is impossible. The word _chance_ is merely a
convenient term for the results of certain forces of nature when we
are unable to calculate them. Chance, then, must be excluded; and
there seem to be only two alternatives. Either the organisms in
nature possessed free will, and acted as they did _voluntarily_; or
else they did not possess free will, and acted as they did
_necessarily_. The former theory will be examined later on; the
latter is the one we are now considering.
(2.) _The effect of Evolution._
How then would this theory affect our previous conclusion that the
Creator designed all the organs of nature, such as the eye, and
hence presumably the whole of the universe? As we shall see, it only
confirms it. For to put it plainly, if all free will on the part of
the organisms is excluded, so that they were all bound to act
exactly as they did, it is clear that the earth and all it contains
is like a vast mass of machinery. And however complicated its parts,
and however much they may act on one another, and however long they
may take in doing so, yet if in the end they produce an organ
showing design, this must have been foreseen and intended by the
Maker of the machinery. In the same way if a mass of machinery after
working for a long time eventually turned out a watch, we should
have no hesitation in saying that whoever made the machinery, and
set it going, intended it to do so. And is the inference less clear,
if it not only turned out a watch, but a watchmaker as well, and
everything else that exists on this planet?
All then that evolution does is this. It shows that the whole of
nature forms such a long and continuous process; that if the end has
been foreseen at all, it must have been foreseen from the
beginning. In other words, just as the Unity of Nature shows that if
anything has been designed, everything has been designed; so
Evolution shows that if it has been designed at all, it has been
designed _from the beginning_. We must hence conclude that the
organs in nature, such as the eye, which undoubtedly show design,
were not designed separately or as _after-thoughts_, but were all
included in one grand design from the beginning. And this can only
increase our admiration for the Designer. Thus evolution, even in
its most extreme and automatic form, cannot get rid of a Designer.
Still less can it do so, if (as is probable) it is not automatic at
all; but is due to the _continuous_ action of the Creator, who is
what is called _immanent_ in nature, and directs every step.
It should be noticed, moreover, that in one respect evolution rather
_increases_ the evidence of design. For if, to take a single
example, a human hand has been evolved from a monkey's foot merely
by the monkey using it as a hand, and taking hold of things; it
increases the amount of design which must have been spent on the
foot to enable it to do so. And if _all_ the organs in nature have
been evolved in this way from simpler ones, it increases the amount
of design which must have been spent on those simpler ones to an
extent which is practically infinite.
Thus Evolution implies a previous _Involution_; since all forms of
life must have been involved in the first form before they could be
evolved from it; so that creation by evolution is more wonderful
than creation by direct manufacture. And it seems to many to be a
far nobler conception of the Creator that He should obtain all the
results He desired, by one grand system of evolution, rather than by
a large number of separate creations. For then the _method_ in which
the results were obtained would be as marvellous, and show as much
wisdom and foresight as the results themselves; and each would be
worthy of the other. Evolution, then, seems to be the highest form
of creation; and so far from destroying the present argument, it
only destroys its difficulties, by showing that every single part of
every single organism may have been _designed_, and yet in a manner
worthy of the great Creator.
Nor is the conclusion altered if we carry back the process of
evolution, and assume that the earliest form of life was itself
evolved from some previous form of inanimate matter; and this again
from a simpler one, and so on till we get back to the original form
of matter, whatever that may have been. For if the results as we now
see them show design, then the argument for a Designer is not
weakened, but our ideas of His skill are still further increased, if
we believe that they were already secured when our earth was merely
a nebula.
(_C._) _The Free Will Objection._
We have, lastly, to consider the other, and more important
objection, that arising from _Free Will_. Why, it is urged, may not
all organisms in nature have possessed free will within certain
limits, and have selected those forms which suited them best? For
example, referring to the case of a watch, if telling the time were
of any advantage to the watch itself, and if the spring, wheels, and
hands possessed free will; then it might be thought that they had
formed themselves into that arrangement which suited them best. And
if so, the idea that the watchmaker foresaw and intended them to
adopt this arrangement seems unnecessary.
Now, in the case before us, as the organs showing design in nature,
such as the eye, always conduce to the welfare of their possessor,
the objection is certainly worth considering. But as we shall see,
it is most improbable, while the chief argument in its favour cannot
be maintained. It need scarcely be pointed out that we are not
assuming that the organisms have free will, but merely admitting
that they may have it; and if anyone denies this, the objection, as
far as he is concerned, falls to the ground at once.
(1.) _Its great improbability._
This is apparent because low down in the scale of nature (plants,
trees, etc.), the free will of the organisms, if they have any, must
be extremely limited; yet they bear unmistakable marks of design.
While, in higher beings which have (or may have) an undoubted free
will, it is hard to believe that it can effect anything like what is
required. Would, for instance, wishing to see or trying to see, even
if blind animals were capable of either, have ever given them eyes?
And the same applies in other cases. It is hence most improbable
that the marks of design in nature are due to the organisms
themselves, rather than to their Creator.
But there is one important argument on the other side, which, if it
could be maintained, would be sufficient to outweigh all this
improbability. It is, that some beings, such as man, do, as a matter
of fact, possess a free will, and that man can and does alter his
condition, to a slight extent, by using that free will. Therefore,
it is said, it is impossible for the Creator to have foreknown what
man's condition would be, because free will and foreknowledge are
_necessarily_ inconsistent. But this latter point is disputed.
(2.) _Free Will and Foreknowledge not inconsistent._
Now, although at first sight freedom of action seems inconsistent
with any foreknowledge of what that action will be, yet on closer
examination this will be found to be at least doubtful. For our own
experience seems to show that in some cases, at all events, it is
not in the nature of things impossible to know how a free being will
act.
For example, I myself may know how, under given external conditions,
I will act to-morrow. Never being sure of these, I cannot be said to
actually foreknow the event; so that foreknowing with man is never
more than foreguessing. But I may be quite sure how, _under given
conditions_, I will act. For instance, I may know that, provided I
keep in good health, provided I receive no news from anyone,
provided, etc, I will go to my office some time to-morrow morning.
Yet I feel equally sure that this foreknowledge of mine does not
prevent the act when it comes from being quite free on my part. My
knowing this evening what I will do to-morrow does not oblige me to
do it. My foreknowledge of the event does not bring the event
about. It is in no sense its _cause_. The act when it comes is due
to my own free will, I merely foreknow _what use I will make of my
freedom_. And these are probably the common feelings of mankind on
the subject.
It seems, then, that my foreknowledge need not be inconsistent with
my free will. And hence, if I tell someone else how I will act,
_his_ foreknowledge would not be inconsistent with my free will. So
that in some cases, and under given conditions, it does not seem
impossible for a man to foreknow how another man will act, yet
without interfering with his freedom. In short, free will does not
seem to be _necessarily_ inconsistent with the foreknowledge even of
man, though it is always practically so, owing to man's imperfect
knowledge of the surrounding circumstances. But the Creator knows,
or may know, these circumstances fully, therefore it must be still
less inconsistent with _His_ foreknowledge.
Of course it may be said that if the Creator foreknows how I will
act to-morrow, I am _certain_ to act in that way; and this is
doubtless true. But it does not follow that I _need_ act in that
way; for _certainty_ is not the same as _necessity_. This is obvious
enough in regard to a past event. I certainly did it, but I need not
have done it; and it may be equally true in regard to a future
event. I will certainly do it, but I need not do it. Therefore the
Creator may know that I will do it, though it will still be _free_
on my part.
And this is strongly confirmed when we reflect that the difficulty
of knowing how a free being will act, however great in itself,
seems as nothing compared with the difficulty of _creating_ a free
being. Apart from experience, we should probably have thought this
to be impossible. Yet man has been created somehow. Is it then
unlikely that the Being who was able to overcome the greater
difficulty, and create a free man, should also be able to overcome
the lesser difficulty, and foreknow how he would act?
Moreover, if free will and foreknowledge are _always_ and
_necessarily_ inconsistent, then the Creator cannot have any
foreknowledge of _His Own_ acts, or else they are not free on His
part; neither of which seems at all probable. We are not, of course,
arguing from this that He actually does foreknow how He will act
Himself, or how a free man will act, but only that it is not in the
nature of things impossible that He should do so; in other words,
that free will and foreknowledge are not _necessarily_ inconsistent.
And this is precisely what we had to show. The marks of design in
nature afford what seems to be overwhelming evidence in favour of
the foreknowledge of the Creator. The objection we are considering
is that, in spite of all this evidence, we must still deny it,
because some of the organisms in nature, such as man, possess a free
will; and therefore any foreknowledge is in the nature of things
impossible. And the instant it is shown that such foreknowledge is
not impossible, the objection falls to the ground.
We may now sum up the argument in this chapter. We first explained
that by _Design_ was meant any voluntary action combined with
foreknowledge of the results of that action. We next considered the
evidence for design in nature, taking, as a single example, the
human eye. And this evidence appeared complete and overwhelming;
more especially as we were not appealing to it to show the existence
of a Creator, which is already admitted, but merely His
foreknowledge. And we have since considered the two apparent
objections to this argument arising from Evolution and Free Will.
But when carefully examined, the former only strengthens the
argument, while the latter does not weaken it. We therefore
conclude, on reviewing the whole subject, that the Creator _designed
the universe_.
CHAPTER III.
THAT THE EXISTENCE OF GOD IS EXTREMELY PROBABLE.
(_A._) MEANING OF THE TERM GOD.
The Personal Being who designed and created the universe.
(_B._) TWO OF GOD'S ATTRIBUTES.
Wisdom and Power. He is also Omnipresent.
(_C._) THE OBJECTION THAT GOD IS UNKNOWABLE.
This is partly true; but everything is unknowable in its
real nature, though in each case the partial knowledge
we can obtain is all we require.
(_D._) SUMMARY OF ARGUMENT.
The position in the argument at which we have now arrived is this.
We showed in the last chapter that the Creator designed the
universe; in other words, that when he created it, He foreknew its
future history. And from this the next step, as to the existence of
God, is quite plain; in fact, it is merely a question of words.
(_A._) MEANING OF THE TERM GOD.
Now any being who is able to design we will call a _personal being_.
And GOD is the name given to the Personal Being who designed and
created the universe.
But it ought to be noticed, before we pass on, that the term
_personal being_ is also applied to _man_, and is said by many
writers to involve the three ideas of _thought_, _desire_, and
_will_. But these seem to be all included in design; for if I design
anything, I must first of all _think_ of it, then _wish_ it, and
then _accomplish_ it.
We will examine in the next chapter whether man is a personal being
as we have used the term; but if we admit that he is, we have
another and independent argument in favour of the Creator being so
too. For the Creator has somehow or other produced man, with all his
attributes; so He cannot be a mere impersonal Being or Force, since
a cause must be able to account for its effect. And a free and
intelligent man cannot be due to a Force, which is neither free nor
intelligent. Therefore, if man is a personal being, it follows that
man's _Maker_ must be so too.
It should also be noticed that man's mind and spirit, which make him
a personal being, cannot be discovered by any physical means. And
this meets the objection that we cannot discover God by any physical
means. It would be much more surprising if we could. But though the
telescope can find no God in the heavens, just as the microscope can
find no mind in man, the existence of each may be quite certain for
other reasons. In popular language, all we can see is the _house_,
not the _tenant_, in either case.
(_B_). TWO OF GOD'S ATTRIBUTES.
We must next notice somewhat carefully two of God's attributes,
_Wisdom_ and _Power_. Both of these are involved in the idea of a
Personal Being able to design. For _design_, as used in this Essay,
means originating or freely doing anything, as well as previously
planning it. Therefore, if we use the word, as is often done, for
planning alone, we must remember that a personal being is one who
can both design and accomplish. The former implies a mind able to
form some plan, and the latter a free force, or will, able to carry
it out. So a personal being must of necessity have _wisdom_ to
design and _power_ to accomplish. And considering the vastness of
the universe and the variety of its organisms, it seems only
reasonable to conclude that the Creator possesses these attributes
to the greatest possible extent, so that He is both Omniscient and
Omnipotent.
It is important, however, to notice the meaning given to these
words. By _Omniscient_, then, we mean possessing all possible
knowledge. Now the only knowledge which might be thought impossible
is how a free being would act in the future, and we have already
shown that such knowledge is not in the nature of things impossible;
so there does not seem to be any necessary restriction here.
But with _Omnipotent_ the case is different. This means, as just
said, possessing all possible power; that is to say, being able to
do anything which is not impossible. Of course some Christians may
be inclined to answer, that _with God all things are possible_; but
as He who said so began one of His own prayers with the words _if it
be possible_, this cannot be taken in its widest sense.[2] And
provided the word _impossible_ is used in its strict meaning, we
have no reason for thinking that God could do impossible things;
such as make a triangle with the properties of a circle, or allow a
man a free choice between two alternatives, and yet force him to
choose one of them. These, then, are two of the great attributes of
God, Wisdom and Power. There is a third, which will be considered in
Chapter V.
[Footnote 2: Matt. 19. 26; 26. 39.]
It should also be noticed that besides being the Designer and
Creator of the universe in the past, God seems to be also its
_Preserver_ at the present, being, in fact, the _Omnipresent_ Power
which is still working throughout nature. That there is such a Power
can scarcely be denied (however hard it may be to realise), and that
it is the same as the Creating Power is plainly the most probable
view. God is thus the Cause of all natural forces now, just as He
was their Creator in times past; and what are called secondary or
natural causes, have probably no existence. They may, indeed, be
called secondary _forces_, but they are not _causes_ at all in the
strict sense; for a cause must be _free_, it must have the power of
initiative. Thus man's free will, if it is free, would be a real
secondary cause, but the forces of nature are mere links in a chain
of events, each of which is bound to follow the previous one. This
is often spoken of as the Divine _Immanence_ in nature, and means
little else than the Omnipresence of a Personal God--the
all-pervading influence of One 'who is never so far off as even to
be called near.'
(_C._) THE OBJECTION THAT GOD IS UNKNOWABLE.
We must lastly consider an important objection which may be made to
the whole of these chapters. It may be said that the human mind is
unable to argue about the _First Cause_, because we have no
faculties for comprehending the Infinite; or, as it is commonly
expressed, because God is _Unknowable_.
Now this objection is partly true. There is a sense in which all
will admit that God is Unknowable. His existence and attributes are
too great for any human mind to comprehend entirely, or for any
human language to express completely and accurately. Therefore our
statements on the subject are at best only approximations to the
truth. We can apprehend His existence, but we cannot comprehend it,
and God in His true nature is certainly _Unknowable_.
But, strictly speaking, it is the same with everything. Man in his
true nature is also unknowable, yet we know something about man. So,
again, the forces of nature are all unseen and unknowable in
themselves, yet from their effects we know something about them. And
even matter when reduced to atoms, or electrons, or anything else,
is still a mystery, yet we know a good deal about matter. And in
each case this knowledge is not incorrect because it is incomplete.
Why, then, should the fact of God being in His true nature
unknowable prevent our having some real, though partial, knowledge
of Him? In short, we may know something about God, though we cannot
know everything about Him.
And it should be noticed that Natural Religion and Natural Science
are alike in this respect--they are both founded on inferences drawn
from the observed facts of nature. For example, we observe the
motion of falling bodies, and infer the existence of some force,
gravity, to account for this. Similarly, we observe the marks of
design in nature, and infer the existence, or at least foresight, of
some Being who designed them. In neither case have we any direct
knowledge as to the cause of what we see. And in some respects
Religion is not so unknowable as Science. For our own, real or
apparent, mind and free will do give us some kind of idea as to the
existence of a personal being, apart from what he does; while of a
natural force, such as gravity, apart from its effects, we can form
no idea whatever. Thus our knowledge of every subject is but
partial, and it finally leads us into the Unknowable.
But now comes the important point. This partial knowledge, which is
all we can obtain in either Science or Religion, is all we require.
It is not a perfect knowledge, but it is sufficient for all
practical purposes. Whatever the force of gravity may be in itself,
we know what it is _to us_. We know that if we jump off a cliff we
shall fall to the ground. And so in regard to Religion. Whatever God
may be in Himself, we know what He is _to us_. We know that He is
our Maker, and therefore, as will be shown in the next chapter, He
is the Being to whom we are responsible. This is the practical
knowledge which we require, and this is the knowledge which we can
obtain.
Moreover, though our reason may be to some extent unfit to judge of
such matters, the vast importance of the subject seems to demand our
coming to some conclusion one way or the other. This is especially
the case because important results affecting a man's daily life
follow from his deciding that there is a God, and to leave the
question undecided is practically the same as deciding that there is
not a God. In the same way, if a ship were in danger of sinking,
and a steamer also in distress offered to take off the passengers,
for one of them to say that he did not know whether it was safer to
go in the steamer or not, and would therefore do nothing and stay
where he was, would be practically the same as deciding not to go in
the steamer. So in the case before us. To refuse to decide the
question because of the supposed inadequacy of human reason is
practically the same as to deny the existence of God.
Still, it may be urged, granting that our reason must decide the
question one way or the other, and granting that our reason seems to
force us to conclude in the existence of God, are there not great
difficulties in honestly believing this conclusion? No doubt there
are, and no thoughtful man would think of ignoring them. But after
all it is only a choice of difficulties; and, as we have shown,
there is _less_ difficulty in believing what we have here maintained
than the contrary. It is less difficult, for instance, to believe
that the universe had an origin, than to believe that it had not.
Similarly as to the existence of God; the theory is not free from
difficulties, but, with all its difficulties, it is still by far the
most probable theory to explain the origin and present state of the
universe. We therefore decide, judging by reason alone (which is the
line adopted in this Essay), that the existence of God is _extremely
probable_.
(_D._) SUMMARY OF ARGUMENT.
In conclusion, we will repeat very briefly, the main line of
argument thus far. To begin with, in the present universe we observe
a succession of changes. If these changes are not recurring, which
seems incredible, they must have had a commencement; and this is
supported by the theories of Evolution and the Degradation of
Energy. Therefore, as this commencement cannot have been a
necessity, it must have been due to some _Free Force_. And a Free
Force must be a _Supernatural_ Force, since natural forces are not
free, but always act according to some fixed law, while the unity of
nature points to its being a _Single_ Supernatural Force, which we
called the Creator.
Next, it follows that the Creator must have foreknown the
consequences of His acts, judging by the marks of design which they
present. And this conclusion was shown to be not inconsistent with
either the process of evolution, or the existence of free will in
man or other beings. Hence He must have been a _Personal Being_,
possessing both Wisdom to design, and Power to accomplish.
Or the whole argument may be repeated in an even shorter form. The
universe (in its present condition) has not existed always, it is
therefore an _effect_,--something that has been effected, or brought
about somehow; and therefore like every effect, it must have had a
_Cause_. Then since the effect shows a certain unity throughout, the
Cause must have been One. Since the effect shows in some parts
evidence of having been planned and arranged, the capacity for
planning and arranging must have existed in the Cause. In other
words, a universe showing marks of design is the effect, and nothing
less than a Personal Being who designed it can be the Cause. And GOD
is the name given to this Personal Being.
CHAPTER IV.
THAT MAN IS A FREE AND RESPONSIBLE BEING.
(_A._) MAN'S MENTAL ATTRIBUTES.
Man possesses a mind as well as a body; the opposite
theory, materialism, has great difficulties.
(_B._) MAN'S MORAL ATTRIBUTES.
(1.) Man possesses a will.
(2.) Man's acts are partly determined by his will.
(3.) Man's will is _free_.
(4.) Man knows that his will is free; and this enables him
to design, and makes him a personal being.
(5.) Man's _responsibility_ for his acts.
(6.) Man's moral sense of right and wrong; which enables
him to distinguish the quality of acts, and makes
him a moral being.
(7.) Man's conscience, by which he can judge of this quality
in some cases.
(_C._) DIFFERENCE BETWEEN ANIMALS AND MEN.
There is a great mental difference, though probably only
of degree; and entire moral difference, since animals,
even if free, do not possess a _known_ freedom, and are
hence not personal beings.
(_D._) CONCLUSION.
Man consists of three parts, body, mind, and spirit: his
unique position.
Having decided on the Existence of God, which is the great truth of
_Natural_ Religion, the question now arises whether, if nature can
lead us so far, there is no means of getting further. No one will
deny that further knowledge is desirable, both as to God, ourselves,
and our future destiny, and is there no means of obtaining it? And
this brings us to the subject of _Revealed_ Religion, that is to
say, of God's making some Revelation to man. And the probability of
this will depend partly on the _character of man_--is he a being at
all worthy of a revelation; and partly on the _Character of God_--is
He a Being at all likely to make one? The former question alone will
be discussed in this chapter, and we will consider man's _mental_
and _moral_ attributes separately. Nothing need be said about his
bodily or _physical_ characteristics, as they have no bearing on the
present argument.
(_A._) MAN'S MENTAL ATTRIBUTES.
By these are meant man's thoughts and feelings, and that they are
different from the matter composing his body seems self-evident.
Matter possesses size, weight, colour, shape, and hardness. Mind
does not possess any of these. They have no conceivable meaning when
applied to thoughts and feelings. Yet both mind and matter exist in
man. We each feel conscious that we have something which _thinks_,
and which we call mind; as well as something which _moves_, and
which we call matter (_i.e._, our bodies); and that these are
absolutely distinct from one another. And from the nature of the
case this _inherent conviction_ is all we can appeal to. For mind,
if it exists at all, being different from matter, is beyond the
reach of ordinary scientific discovery. We cannot however be more
certain of anything than of these inherent convictions, which form
the basis of all our knowledge. Even the propositions of Euclid are
only deductions from some other of our convictions, such as that the
whole is greater than its part.
Still the difficulty of understanding this compound nature in man,
part mind and part body, has led some persons to adopt the theory of
_materialism_. According to this there is no such thing as _mind_;
what we call thoughts and feelings being merely complicated motions
of the molecules of the brain. Now, that the mind and brain are
closely associated together none will deny, but it does not follow
that they are identical. The brain may be merely the instrument of
the mind through which it acts. And though, as far as we know, the
mind can never act without the brain, it may certainly have a
separate existence, and possibly, under different conditions, may be
able to act separately. It is in fact no more difficult to conceive
of thought without a brain, than to conceive of thought with a
brain. All we can say is, that within the range of our experience
the two seem to be somehow connected together.
Recent investigations, however, in what is called _telepathy_ (or
thought-transference) seem to show that in some cases one mind can
influence another _at a distance_, and without any material
connection. And this (if admitted) proves that the mind is something
more than a mere collection of particles of matter.
Moreover materialism, to be consistent, must deny not only that man
has a mind, but that he has anything immaterial at all; he must be
matter in motion, and nothing else. But this is disproved by our
_memory_, which convinces us that we are the _same_ persons now as
we were ten years ago; yet we know that every particle of our
bodies, including our brains, has changed in the interval. We must
then have something immaterial which survives, in spite of
everything material changing.
The case, it should be noticed, is not like that of a tree, which
may be popularly said to be the same now as it was ten years ago,
though every particle of it has changed in the interval. For as far
as we know, the tree has nothing which connects its present state
with its former state, it has no memory of what happened to it then.
We _have_, that is just the difference. We can remember now what
happened to us ten years ago, though our bodies now do not contain a
single atom or molecule which they did then. We must, therefore,
have something else besides atoms and molecules, in other words,
something _immaterial_; and if so, there is an end of materialism in
its only logical form.
This theory then cannot possibly be accepted, and we must abide by
our inherent conviction that we have a mind as well as a body. This
is an ultimate fact in human nature; and we are as certain of it as
we are of anything, though like some other ultimate facts it has to
be assumed, because it can be neither proved nor doubted.
(_B._) MAN'S MORAL ATTRIBUTES.
We pass on now to man's moral attributes, which we will consider in
detail.
(1.) _Man possesses a will._
In the first place man possesses what, in common language, is called
a _will_. Strictly speaking, of course, the will is not anything
independent of the man, which he _possesses_, as he might possess a
dog; it is the man himself _who wills_, or who possesses the power
of willing. But the common language is so generally understood, that
it will be used here. Now the chief reason for believing that man
has a will is his own inherent conviction. He feels certain that he
does possess a will which is distinct from his body and his mind,
though closely associated with both, and apparently to some extent
controlling both. For example, I may resolve to raise my hand, and
then do it; or I may resolve to think out a problem, and then do it.
In each case the will is felt to be something distinct from the
subsequent bodily or mental action.
(2.) _Man's acts are partly determined by his will._
In the next place, a man's acts (and also his thoughts) are partly
determined by his will. By this is meant that a man's will is able
to move his limbs, so that, for instance, he can raise his hand when
he wishes, and this gives him the power of determining his acts. It
is not meant that a man's will can move his limbs directly; his
limbs are moved by his muscles, which are directed by his nerves,
and these by certain motions in the brain. All that the will can do
is to give a particular direction to these motions, which, combined
with various other forces, brings about the observed result.
Now we have in favour of this action of the human will on the human
body the universal experience of mankind, which is that a man can
somehow or other move his limbs at pleasure. Indeed, the question
whether a man can walk across the room when he wishes, seems to most
people to admit of a convincing answer: _solvitur ambulando_. But
still, the action of will on matter seems so improbable, and so
difficult to understand, that attempts have naturally been made to
find some other explanation.
But no satisfactory one can be suggested. For my wishing to move my
body, is followed by my moving it so frequently and so universally,
that there must be some connection between them. And though we
cannot imagine how a mere wish can move particles of matter (in the
brain or anywhere else), it is just as hard to imagine how the
movement of particles of matter can produce a wish. The latter
theory is no easier to understand than the other; and, as just said,
it is opposed to _the daily experience of mankind_, which is that a
man's will can, somehow or other, move his limbs, and hence
determine his acts.
(3.) _Man's will is free._
It must next be noticed that man's will is a _free_ will, and this
is a most important point. It is quite distinct from the previous
question. Then we decided that a man's raising his hand, for
instance, was the result of his wishing to do so. We have now to
consider whether this wish was free on the man's part, or whether he
could not help it; the latter view being called that of _Necessity_,
or _Determinism_, and meaning that a man's acts are necessarily
determined, and not free. Of course everyone admits that there are
_limits_ to human freedom. A man cannot always raise his hand when
he likes, it may be paralyzed. The important point is whether he is
_ever_ free; and there are two main arguments on each side.
Now the great argument in favour of free will is, again, our own
inherent conviction. It is one of the most universal, and one of the
most certain, beliefs of mankind that he has free will. This belief
is forced upon him by his own daily experience. He feels, for
instance, that he is free to raise his hand or not. And what is
more, he can verify the fact by actually raising it, whenever he
likes; so it is literally true to say that the conviction rests on
the daily experience of the human race. And to many, this argument
alone seems conclusive.
But, as a matter of fact, it is fully confirmed by _human conduct_.
For a man's conduct is _variable_ and quite unlike the uniformity
which we find in chemistry and physics, where there is no free
force, and everything is brought about in accordance with fixed
laws. So we seem to require some free force in man to account for
his variable conduct. These, then, are the two arguments in favour
of free will--man's _inherent conviction_, confirmed by his
_variable conduct_; and no more powerful arguments can be imagined.
On the other hand, the chief argument against human freedom is that
it would be an _anomaly_ in nature; since natural forces always act
in the same way, and any free force, able to act or not as it likes,
is quite unknown. If, then, man possesses such a force, no matter
how limited it may be, he is partly, at least, a _supernatural_
being, not bound by fixed laws.
Now all this may be admitted, but what then? Why should not man be a
partly supernatural being? God, Who has made man, is Supernatural;
He possesses free will, and He might, if He thought fit, bestow some
of this attribute on man, allowing him, that is to say, within
certain limits, to act in one way or another. No doubt, to persons
who study physical science alone, the existence of any free force in
man seems most improbable. But, on the other hand, to those who
study the actions of men, such as barristers, soldiers, or
politicians, the idea that man is a mere machine seems equally
improbable.
And does not the same principle apply in other cases? Suppose, for
instance, that a man were to study inorganic chemistry alone, living
on an island where vegetation was unknown, would not a tree be a
complete anomaly to him? Yet trees exist and have to be allowed for.
In the same way man's free will may be an anomaly, but the evidence
for it is overwhelming.
Moreover, the anomaly is greatly lessened by the fact that man
already occupies a very anomalous position. For as we have seen, his
acts are often determined by his _will_, and this is utterly unlike
anything that we find elsewhere in nature. Indeed the _action_ of a
will is as great an anomaly as its _freedom_; and with the possible
exception of animals (see further on) we have no experience whatever
of a will that can act and is _not_ free. Therefore claiming freedom
for a man, is not like claiming freedom for a mineral, or a plant.
He is anyhow a unique being, by far the highest and most important
on this planet; and that he should be partly supernatural as well
does not seem so very unlikely after all.
We must also remember that we know more about ourselves where we are
conscious of freedom, than we do about the surrounding universe,
where we infer a rigid uniformity. Indeed, our own free will is the
only force of which we have any _direct_ knowledge, and the
so-called forces of nature, such as gravity, are, strictly speaking,
only assumptions which we make to account for observed facts. And,
as we have shown, even these forces seem to have originated in the
Free Will of the Creator; so as far as we can judge, _free will_, of
some kind is the ultimate cause of all force.
The other important argument against free will is that it would be
inconsistent with what is called the _Conservation of Energy_, since
it is said any voluntary act would involve the creation of energy.
But this is at least doubtful; for the will might be free as to its
acts, were it only able to control energy without producing it. And
it could do this if it possessed the power of altering either the
time, or the direction of force; deciding, for instance, whether to
raise my hand now, or a minute hence, or whether to raise my right
hand or my left. And if it possessed either of these powers, it
could turn the latent force, which a man possesses, into actual
motion when and how it pleased. And it would thus be free as to its
acts, without creating any energy at all.
We therefore decide on reviewing the whole subject, that man's will
is free; since this alone agrees with his own inherent _conviction_,
and fully accounts for his variable _conduct_. While, on the other
hand, though an _anomaly_ in nature, it is not on that account
incredible; nor is it inconsistent with the _conservation of
energy_.
(4.) _Man knows that his will is free._
Having now decided that man's will is free, little need be said
about the next point, which is that man _knows_ that his will is
free, since, as we have shown, this is the chief argument for
admitting its freedom. There are, however, many other arguments for
proving that man believes that he has a free will, for it is shown
by his acts. It is this known freedom which enables a man to set
before him an end, and deliberately work towards it; in other words,
it enables him to _design_, and makes him a _personal being_, as we
have used the term. And it is needless to point out that the
evidence of human design is universal. Again, human language affords
a conclusive proof that man has always and everywhere believed
himself to be free; for such terms as _I will_, _I choose_, _I
decide_, exist in all languages. However, we need not pursue this
subject, since it is undisputed that man _believes_ that he has a
free will; and it is taken for granted in all human affairs.
(5.) _Man's responsibility for his acts._
By this is meant that a man is responsible for the way in which he
uses his freedom; and this seems to follow at once from his knowing
that he is free. Moreover, a sense of responsibility is among the
inherent convictions of mankind. Of course, there may be exceptions
to this as to most other rules; but taking mankind as a whole, he
certainly believes in his own responsibility.
He also believes that this responsibility is in the first place to
God, or some other supernatural Being. No doubt he is also
responsible to his fellow-men, more especially to those among whom
he is living; but a moment's reflection will show that this is not
the leading idea. For a man must in the first place be responsible
to his Maker rather than to his fellow-men. In the same way a child
is first of all responsible to his parents, and then, secondly and
consequently, to his brothers and sisters. Therefore, because God
has made us, we are responsible to Him; and because He has placed us
among other men, and presumably wishes us to take some part in human
society, we are in a lesser degree responsible to them also. So the
_brotherhood of man_, as it is called, naturally follows from the
Fatherhood of God.
(6.) _Man's moral sense of right and wrong._
In the next place, man has the remarkable faculty of distinguishing
the _quality_ of acts which are free, regarding some as right and
others as wrong, the latter being called _sins_. And it may be
noticed in passing, that the existence of moral evil or sin seems to
many to be an additional argument in favour of man's freedom;
otherwise God would be the sole author of man's misdeeds. Of course,
in this case, they would not be really _sins_, for if man has no
free will, he is a mere machine, and can no more sin against God (or
man either) than a watch can sin against its maker. Such a man
might be imperfect, and so might a watch, but he could not be
_wicked_; yet few will say that there are no wicked men in the
world. Now we will call a being who is thus able to distinguish the
quality of acts a _moral being_. Man is therefore a moral being,
having this _moral sense_, as it is called, of distinguishing right
from wrong.
It will perhaps make the meaning of this moral sense plainer if we
compare it with one of man's other senses, say that of sight. The
one, then, distinguishes right from wrong, just as the other
distinguishes red from yellow, or blue from green. And as man's
sense of colours is not disproved by one man thinking a colour blue
which another thinks green--or his sense of taste, by one man
thinking a taste nice, which another thinks nasty--so his moral
sense is not disproved by one man thinking an act right which
another thinks wrong.
Moreover this sense of right and wrong is quite distinct from the
pleasant or unpleasant consequences which are associated with
certain acts. For instance, I may avoid putting my hand into hot
water, because I remember having done so before, and it was painful;
but this is quite different from avoiding an act because it is
_wrong_. It is also quite distinct from expediency, or the idea of
benefiting by an act. For an act may not benefit us at all, or may
even injure us, and yet it may be right. In short, 'fifty
experiences of what is pleasant or what is profitable do not, and
cannot, make one conviction of what is right'; the ideas differ in
kind; and not merely in degree.
(7.) _Man's conscience._
Lastly, as to man's conscience. This is often confused with his
moral sense, but a little reflection will show that the two are
distinct. For a man might possess a moral sense, and be able to
classify acts as right or wrong, yet have no direct means of knowing
to which class any particular act belonged. He might have to work
this out by reasoning; and in difficult cases we sometimes do so.
But as a rule this is unnecessary. For mankind possesses a very
remarkable _something_, called a conscience, which tells him at
once, and without either argument or reasoning, that certain acts
are right and others wrong. Conscience is thus like an organ of the
moral sense, and may be compared to the eye or organ of sight; for
just as the eye perceives that certain colours are red and others
blue, so conscience perceives that certain acts are right and others
wrong. In each case the perception is almost instantaneous, and
quite distinct from any kind of reasoning.
Conscience, it will be noticed, does not _make_ the act right or
wrong, any more than the eye makes the colour red or blue; it merely
tells us what acts are right and what wrong. It is thus an
_intermediary_ between Someone else and ourselves; and this Someone
else can only be God, Who gave us our conscience, so that in popular
language it may be called _the Voice of God_. And it tells us we
ought to act right, because this is the way in which God wishes us
to act.
Now that mankind possesses a conscience is indisputable. It is
shared alike by young and old, rich and poor, educated and
uneducated. It has existed in all ages, countries and races. We all
have it, and what is very remarkable it seems to be independent of
our will, and not at our disposal. We do not correct it, but it
corrects us; for it not only tells us what acts are right and what
wrong, but it approves definitely of our doing the former, and
disapproves just as definitely of our doing the latter. Indeed, one
of the most striking effects of conscience is this feeling of
_remorse_ or self-condemnation after wrong-doing; and such a feeling
is practically universal.
And if it be objected that one man's conscience may say that an act
is right, which another man's conscience says is wrong, we must
remember that the decision of a man's conscience, only refers to the
man himself. It tells a man what is right _for him_, with his
knowledge and surroundings, and it is quite possible that this may
be wrong for another man.
These, then, are the moral attributes of the human race, and it
follows at once that man is a _free and responsible being_. But as
this conclusion is often disputed, because of the similarity between
animals and men, and the difficulty of admitting that they also are
free and responsible beings, or else of showing where the
distinction lies, we must examine this subject.
(_C._) DIFFERENCE BETWEEN ANIMALS AND MEN.
Now the _bodily_ difference between certain animals and men is
admittedly small; and though the accompanying _mental_ difference is
enormous, it is probably only one of degree; for all animals seem,
to some slight extent, to possess a mind, which enables them at
least to feel conscious of pleasure and pain. We must therefore
pass on to the _moral_ attributes of animals; and as we know nothing
as to their feelings on the subject, it is difficult to say
(referring to the first three points) whether they have a _free
will_ or not. Of course, if they have _not_, that would be a clear
distinction between animals and men. But we have no right to assume
this, and there is a good deal to be said on the other side, at
least in regard to the higher animals, so the question had better be
left open.
But with regard to the next point, that of _known_ freedom, we are
on surer ground; for the proof of man's _believing_ himself to be
free does not depend solely on his own feelings. It is shown by his
acts, as it enables him to _design_, and it is doubtful if there is
anything corresponding to this in animals. For though many of their
works show design somewhere, it does not seem to be due to _them_.
This kind of unconscious designing (which strange to say is most
apparent in the _lower_ forms of animal life) is called _instinct_,
and there are at least three reasons for thinking that it differs
from real design implying forethought.
The first is, that, if these works were due to the design of the
animals themselves, they must possess intellectual powers of a very
high order. Take, for instance, the well known example of the _cells
of bees_. These are built on the most perfect mathematical
principles, the three rhombs which close the hexagonal columns
having the exact angles so as to contain the greatest amount of
honey, with the least expenditure of wax. And as we require advanced
mathematics and a book of logarithms to work out such problems, it
is hard to see how the bees can do it. Nor is heredity of any use,
for the bees which build cells are all _workers_ (as they are
called) and have no descendants; while those which have descendants
are either _drones_ or _queens_, and these do no building. Thus the
cells are built by bees, none of whose ancestors have ever built
cells; so the design cannot be ascribed to anything they have
inherited from their parents.[3] Secondly, animals are only able to
design in a few special cases, and in other respects they often act
with the greatest stupidity. A bee, for example, with all its
mathematics, cannot very often, if it has flown in through an open
window, retrace its way, but will buzz helplessly against another
which is shut.
[Footnote 3: Encyc. Brit., 9th edit., vol. iii., pp. 490, 484. The
angles are 109° 28' and 70° 32'.]
Thirdly, the instincts of animals are practically the same, always
and everywhere. They are not more advanced in some countries, than
in others; or in some individuals, than in others. They are not even
more advanced as time goes on. The last cell built by a bee is no
better than the first, and no better, as far as we know, than cells
built by bees thousands of years ago; while the young of animals,
without any experience to guide them, have the same instincts as the
old. Clearly, then, an animal's instinct is born with it, and not
acquired; and therefore, any apparent design there may be in what is
done by instinct cannot be attributed to the animal itself, any more
than the design shown in its eyes, but to its Maker.
So far all is plain. It may, however, be urged that in some of the
higher animals, especially those in contact with man, we do find
certain acts which seem to imply forethought and design. A dog, for
example, will bury a bone one day, and go and look for it the next.
But when once it is admitted that what are apparently far more
striking instances of design are to be explained by instinct, it
seems better to explain them all in the same way.
And this is confirmed by the fact that even the higher animals do
not appear to have any idea of _responsibility_, or any sense of
_right_ and _wrong_, which in man are the result of his known
freedom. Of course, this also may be disputed, since as we punish a
dog for doing what we dislike, it looks as if we held it responsible
for the act. But this does not follow. We punish the dog to prevent
its repeating the act. And it may avoid doing so, because its memory
associates the act with _pain_, and not because it feels responsible
for it, or considers it to be _wrong_. While in the vast majority of
cases we never think of holding an animal responsible for its acts,
or look upon its injuring anyone as a sin. We conclude, then, that
_moral_ attributes form the great distinction between animals and
men; because though animals have, or may have, a free will, it is
not a _known_ freedom, so they are not able, like men, to _design_,
and are hence not _personal beings_.
Two further remarks may be made before leaving this subject. The
first is, that though there are difficulties in placing this known
freedom as the difference between animals and men, there are as
great, if not greater, difficulties in placing it anywhere else. If
we say that an ape or a dog can design, the difficulty is not
lessened; it is merely transferred lower down the scale. Can a
jellyfish design? The momentous attribute of known freedom must
begin _somewhere_; and it seems less difficult to place it between
animals and men than anywhere else.
The second and more important point is, that our ignorance about
animals is no reason for doubting what we do know about man. To do
this would be most illogical. Indeed, we might as well deny that a
man could see, or hear, because there are difficulties in deciding
where sight and hearing commence in the scale of animal life.
(_D._) CONCLUSION.
We may now conclude this chapter. With regard to man, it is clear
that his bodily, mental, and moral attributes are quite distinct. A
man may be strong in body, yet of weak intellectual power; or he may
have a great intellect, yet be of weak moral character. This makes
it probable that human nature consists of three parts--_body_,
_mind_, and _spirit_; the mind corresponding to the mental reasoning
part of man, and the spirit to the free moral part, the word _soul_
being often used for either of these latter.
And the difference between animals and men is probably that the
former have no _spirits_, but only bodies and (undeveloped)
minds. All life on this planet would then form three great
groups--_vegetation_, consisting of matter alone; _animals_, of
matter and mind; _man_, of matter, mind, and spirit. And from this
it seems to follow that while a man's _body_ may (conceivably) have
been evolved from any other form of matter, and his _mind_ from any
other form of mind, yet his _spirit_ is essentially distinct, and
cannot have been evolved from anything else.
Moreover, as a man's body and mind are both (to some extent) under
the known control of his free will, or spirit, this latter must be
looked upon as his real _self_. Thus he is not, strictly speaking,
an organism at all, but a free being served by organs both of body
and mind. They are _his_; they do not constitute _him_. He is the
personal being, who controls both. In other words man _is_ a spirit,
and _has_ a body and mind.
And our present conclusion is quite plain. We have shown that man is
a _free_ being, his freedom distinguishing him from natural forces,
and making him in part supernatural. And he is a _responsible_
being, his responsibility being due to his known freedom, and
distinguishing him from animals. He has thus a unique position.
Nothing else on this planet resembles him, and in his attribute of
known freedom which enables him to design, and makes him a _personal
being_, he resembles God alone.
CHAPTER V.
THAT GOD TAKES AN INTEREST IN MAN'S WELFARE.
(_A._) THE EVIDENCE IN ITS FAVOUR.
Since God is a _Moral_ as well as a Personal Being, He must
be capable of caring for all His creatures; and we have
abundant evidence that He does so, especially for man.
But there are two great difficulties.
(_B._) THE INSIGNIFICANCE OF MAN.
(1.) Some counter-arguments, showing that even if insignificant,
God might still care for him.
(2.) Man's real importance, due to his mind and spirit.
(3.) The supposed inhabitants of other planets.
(_C._) THE EXISTENCE OF EVIL.
(1.) Physical evil in animals. The objection that it is vast
in amount, wholly unmerited, and perfectly useless,
cannot be maintained.
(2.) Physical evil in man. Several ways of lessening the
difficulty. Its explanation seems to be that God's
designing evil does not mean His desiring it, as it is
essential for forming a man's character.
(3.) Moral evil in man. The possibility of this is essential
to free will; and wicked men are as necessary as any
other form of evil.
(_D._) CONCLUSION.
God's _Goodness_ includes Beneficence and Righteousness.
Having discussed in the last chapter the character of man, we have
next to consider, as far as we have any means of doing so, _the
Character of God_; more especially whether He seems to take any
interest in man's welfare. And we will first examine the evidence in
favour of this; then the two arguments on the other side from the
insignificance of man, and the existence of evil; and will conclude
by considering in what sense the term _Goodness_ can be ascribed to
God.
(_A._) THE EVIDENCE IN ITS FAVOUR.
To begin with, God is certainly capable of taking an interest in
man's welfare, for He is not only a Personal Being, but also a Moral
Being. This follows at once from what may be called the _moral
argument_ for the Existence of God, or that depending on man's free
will. It is briefly this, that no combination of natural forces,
which are uniform and always act the same under the same
circumstances, can ever produce a _free_ force, able to act or not
as it likes. The idea seems inconceivable. If, then, man possesses
such a force, which we have already admitted, it cannot have come
from any natural forces, nor can it have made itself, so it must
have been derived from some _previous_ free force, and this, again,
from a previous one, and so on till we finally arrive at a _Free
Force_, which was _not_ derived from any other, but which existed
eternally. And this, it will be remembered, was precisely the
conclusion we reached in Chapter I., though from quite a different
argument. And then it follows that this Free Force, or Free Being,
must know that He is free; and must therefore be a _moral_ Being,
able to distinguish the quality of acts as right or wrong. Indeed,
the mere fact that man possesses this remarkable faculty makes it
certain that man's Maker must possess it too.
Now a personal and moral God must clearly be able to take an
interest in the welfare of His creatures; and there is abundant
evidence that He actually does so. For everywhere in nature, and
especially in man, we meet with marks, not only of design, but of
_beneficent_ design--that is to say of design tending to the welfare
and happiness of the beings in question. Take, for instance, the
human eye, which we considered in Chapter II. Everyone will admit
that this conduces very greatly to man's happiness; and therefore
the conclusion that God, when He designed the eye, did so with the
object of benefiting man seems irresistible. Nor is this altered by
the fact that the eye has a few defects, in being liable to various
kinds of disease. For no one can think that it was made for the sake
of these defects. It was evidently made to see, and not to ache.
That it does ache now and then is in all probability due to its
being such a complicated instrument; and perhaps also to its being
often used too much.
But it may be said, beneficial organs like the eye, though they
abound throughout nature, are not the only ones we meet with. There
are others, like the claws and teeth of wild animals, which are just
the opposite, and seem designed to give pain to other creatures. But
this is quite untenable. They were plainly designed to enable the
animal to secure its food, and are perhaps necessary for that
purpose, and they all tend to the welfare of their possessor, and
sometimes also to that of their victim, as it hastens death. There
is not, in fact, a single organ in nature the _object_ of which is
to produce pain. Where pain is produced it is merely a sort of
_by-product_. Thus far then, we are quite justified in concluding
that God takes an interest in man's welfare. But there are two great
difficulties.
(_B._) THE INSIGNIFICANCE OF MAN.
The first is from the apparent _insignificance_ of man. For though
he is doubtless by far the most important being on this planet, and
endowed with some of the Divine attributes, yet, after all how
utterly insignificant he is in comparison with his Maker. This is no
new difficulty,[4] but modern science has increased its force by
showing that our earth is only one among the planets which go round
the sun, while the sun itself is only one among many millions of
stars. And, we may ask, is it likely that the God Who rules these
millions of stars should take any interest in the beings on a small
planet like our earth?
[Footnote 4: Ps. 8. 3, 4.]
This is the difficulty we have to face; but a good deal depends on
the way in which it is stated. Would it not be better to argue from
the known to the unknown, and ask--Is it likely that the God Who has
made this earth, and Who we know (from the marks of design) takes an
interest in its inhabitants, should be _also_ the Ruler of the
distant stars? And when so stated, the unity of nature compels us to
say that it is not only likely, but practically certain. However, we
will discuss the subject more in detail, first considering some
counter-arguments, which show that even if man were insignificant
God might still care for him; then man's real importance; and
lastly, the question of other planets being inhabited.
(1.) _Some Counter-arguments._
To begin with, though it seems unlikely that God should take any
interest in such insignificant beings as us men, it also seems
unlikely that He should ever have designed and created such beings.
Yet He has done so. And having created them, there is at most only a
slight _additional_ improbability, if any at all, that He should
take an interest in their welfare. And this is especially the case
when we remember that man is not only the highest and noblest being
on this planet, but as far as we know on any planet. Therefore
though we may be quite unworthy of God's care, we do not know of any
other being who is more worthy of it. And it is most unlikely that a
Creator would not take an interest in _any_ of His works.
Next, as to the analogy of nature. Here we find nothing resembling a
neglect of small things. On the contrary, everything, down to the
minutest insect, seems finished with as much perfection as if it
alone existed in the universe. And this is surely what we should
expect. For true greatness does not exist in despising that which is
small; and it may be a very part of God's infinite greatness that
nothing should be too small for Him to care about, just as nothing
is too large. And while a Being, Who can govern the universe, and
attend to its millions of stars, is no doubt great--inconceivably
great; yet He is surely greater still--_inconceivably greater_--if
He can _also_ attend to our little planet, and its inhabitants; and
can do this so thoroughly, as not only to take an interest in the
human race, but in the welfare of each one of its members.
And the whole analogy of nature is in favour of His doing so; for
the forces of nature never deal with matter in bulk, but with each
particle separately. A stone, for instance, is attracted to the
ground, because, and only because, each particle of it is so
attracted. In the same way if God takes an interest in the human
race (and, as just said, it is hard to imagine His not doing so,
since it is His noblest work) it may be because, and only because,
He takes an interest in each individual member of it.
Thirdly, the difficulty of thus believing that God takes an interest
in the daily life of an individual man, though undoubtedly great, is
really no more than that of believing that He knows about it. For if
He knows about it, why should He not care about it? Yet, as said in
Chapter II., a world like ours cannot have been made without both
knowledge, and foreknowledge, on the part of its Maker. And though
we might at first be inclined to limit this to important matters, a
little consideration will show that such a distinction is untenable;
and that if God knows anything, He knows everything. And if He knows
everything, why should He not care about everything?
Fourthly, and this is very important, whether we are insignificant
or not, we are each of us _unique_. We are not like particles of
matter. Millions of these are (or may be) exactly alike, but no two
_men_ are exactly alike; not even to the same extent as plants and
animals. For each man is a separate spirit, a _personal being_
distinct from all else in the world. And since he possesses a free
will, his character is also distinct; for this depends to a large
extent on how he uses his free will, what he says, and what he does,
day by day. So it is out of the question to think that any two men
are exactly alike. And this is the common belief of mankind, for
however much we may think other people alike, we each feel sure that
there is no one else in the world exactly like _ourselves_.
Nor can there be. For though God might, if He chose, make two trees
exactly alike, or two men exactly alike in their external features,
He could not make them alike _in their character_. For this, as just
said, depends on their own free use of their own free will; and if
God were to force them to decide in the same way, they would cease
to be free. And from this it follows that each man is not only
unique, but _irreplaceable_. No other can be made like him.
Therefore, as we each have something special about us, God may take
a _special_ interest in each of us. Doubtless such an idea seems
very wonderful; but no one who has any knowledge of the marvels of
nature will think it, on that account, incredible. Indeed, from one
point of view, it is only what we should expect. For we all know how
a naturalist will value a unique specimen, which cannot be replaced,
in spite of its having some defects. And if each man is really
_unique_, and _irreplaceable_, why may not the God of Nature value
him too (in spite of his faults), and take an interest in his
welfare?
Then, fifthly, as to the discoveries of science, there is here also
a good deal to be said on the other side. For though the telescope
has shown us that our world is like a mere drop in the ocean, the
microscope has shown us a new world in each drop; and the
_infinitely little_, as it is called, is as wonderful as the
infinitely great, and man still occupies a sort of central position.
When, for instance, we examine a single organ, say the human eye, we
find that it consists of an immense number of parts, each of which
is seen to be more and more complicated the more we are able to
magnify it, and so on without apparently any limit. And this makes
it more than ever likely that the God, Who has shown such marvellous
skill in the various organs of a man's body, should care for the man
himself, the personal and moral being, who possesses these organs.
Nor is the argument weakened by the fact that the organs of animals
also show a wonderful amount of design, for as far as we know, in
their case, there is no personal and moral being to care about.
Again, science has not only shown us the _magnitude_ of the
universe, and that there are millions of stars, millions of miles
apart, but it has also shown us its _unity_, and that all its parts
are closely connected together. And certainly the idea that the God,
Who rules these stars, should take an interest in us men, is no
harder to believe than that the gases, which are burning in these
stars, should influence our spectroscopes. Yet they do; so if this
were all, it would still lessen the difficulty a good deal.
(2.) _Man's real importance._
But this is not all, for science has also taught us a great deal
about man himself, and his long development; which has a most
important bearing on the argument. For we now know that our earth
has existed for thousands of centuries, gradually evolving higher
and higher forms of life, all leading up to _man_, who is the heir
of all the ages, the inheritor of all that is useful and best in his
long line of ancestors.
And (what is very important) organic evolution seems obliged to stop
here. Man is not merely a link in a series leading on to still more
perfect beings, but he is the _end_ of the series. In all
probability there will never be a higher being on the earth, for the
causes which have produced his evolution thus far, can carry it no
further. When, for instance, man acquired an erect position, there
was an end to any further improvement in that respect. When he took
to wearing clothes, there was an end to the body becoming hardier
and stronger through exposure. When he took to using weapons and
inventing machinery, mere physical strength was no longer essential,
and could no longer be increased.
In short, when Evolution began to take a _mental_ turn, there was an
end to bodily development. Henceforth there was to be no evolution
of any higher being, but rather the gradual perfecting of this one
being, by mental and moral, and not physical improvements. Man is
thus not only the highest being that ever has been evolved, but, as
far as we can judge, the highest being that ever will be evolved on
this earth. So the vast scheme of evolution, inconceivable alike in
magnitude, in duration, and in complexity, is all seen to be one
plan, with _man_ apparently at the end of it. And consequently, as
everything was designed by God, he must have been the foreknown and
intended end, from the very beginning; the first thought in
creation, as well as the last.
And when we thus regard man as the goal towards which nature has all
along tended, and therefore as the _chief_ object which God--the
Author of Nature--had in view all the time, it seems to increase his
importance tenfold; and shows conclusively that in God's sight he
must be anything but insignificant.
Nor is it difficult to suggest a reason for this. For man, as we
know, has a _mind_, as well as a body; and though the discoveries of
science have in some respects lessened the importance of his _body_,
by showing its evolution from other animals; they have at the same
time increased that of his _mind_, for it is his mind that has
discovered them. And every fresh discovery man makes can only exalt
him still higher for making it; so that the mind of man now shows
him to be a far nobler being than could possibly have been imagined
some centuries ago. And certainly, a mind that can discover the
motions of distant stars, and the elements of which they are
composed, cannot be thought insignificant. In fact, in one respect
man is greater than any of the stars; for he can think about them,
but they cannot think about him.
Moreover, man has not only a mind, but also a _spirit_, or free
will, able to act right or wrong. And even his acting _wrong_,
however sad it may be in other respects, is a powerful witness to
his greatness; for who but a great being could act in opposition to
the will of the Almighty? But then; if his acting _wrong_ proves his
greatness, still more does his acting _right_. Indeed (if we were
not so far from it ourselves) we should probably see that moral
perfection, or _always_ acting right, though one might act wrong, is
the noblest thing in the whole universe; and as far above mental
greatness, as this latter is above mere physical strength.
But though _we_ cannot properly appreciate it, God can. He is
Himself a Spirit, and therefore, in His sight, a man possessing a
mind and spirit, and thus made to some extent in His own image, and
capable of developing moral perfection, may be of more value
(because more like Himself) than a universe of dead matter. In the
same way (to quote a well-known analogy) a king will value his child
more than his palace: for the simple reason that the child is more
like himself. Thus _persons_ are always more valuable than _things_.
And they are _incomparably_ more valuable, for they have nothing in
common by which they can be compared. We cannot class an astronomer
with his telescopes, or say that one geologist is worth so many
fossils, or one bricklayer so many bricks. And this being so, what
shall we say of the millions of men who have lived, and are now
living, on this earth? Surely _their_ welfare cannot be thought
insignificant by anyone, least of all by their Creator.
(3.) _The supposed inhabitants of other planets._
But it may be said, what about other planets? Are not some of these
inhabited, and does not this weaken the argument a good deal, and
show that God cannot take any special interest in man, or other
beings on this earth?
Now there is, of course, no reason why God should take any _special_
interest in the beings on this planet, more than in similar beings
on other planets, if such exist; but this is very doubtful. For
modern science has shown that not only are the same _materials_
found in the other planets (and also in the fixed stars) as are
found here; but that _natural laws_, such as those of gravity,
light, and heat, are the same throughout the entire universe. And
this makes it probable that the laws of life are also the same; so
that if living beings exist on other planets, we should expect them
to be somewhat similar to the living beings here; and to have been
evolved in a somewhat similar manner. And this requires that a large
number of favourable circumstances, such as a moderate temperature,
a suitable atmosphere, sufficient water, etc., should all be found
on some other planet, not only now, but during the long ages which
(judging by this earth) appear necessary for the development of the
higher forms of life; and this certainly seems unlikely.
On the other hand, it is difficult to believe that God would create
an immense number of suns or stars, many of which have probably
planets round them, if only one out of the whole series was to be
inhabited by personal beings. But however strange this may seem to
us, it entirely agrees with God's methods in nature, where what
seems to be needless waste is the universal rule. So this is not an
insuperable difficulty. The question, however, may well be left
open, for even if other planets are inhabited, there is no reason
why God should not take an interest--and perhaps a great
interest--in their inhabitants, as well as in ourselves; since all
His capacities are boundless, and even the smallest part of
_infinity_ may be very large.
(_C._) THE EXISTENCE OF EVIL.
We now come to the other, and perhaps more important,
difficulty--that arising from the _existence of evil_. This term in
its widest sense includes both _pain_, which affects a man's body;
_sorrow_, which affects his mind; and _sin_, which affects his
spirit. The two former may be called _physical evil_, and apply also
to animals; while the latter is _moral evil_, and applies only to
man. And as the world is full of pain, sorrow, and sin, one may
naturally ask how could it have been designed and created by a God
Who cares for the welfare of His creatures? Or, to put the objection
in other words, does not the existence of this evil show that God
either could not or would not prevent it? If He _could_ not, he is
not All-Powerful; if He _would_ not, He is not All-Good. This is an
undoubted difficulty; and we will examine it in detail, both as it
affects animals and men.
(1.) _Physical evil in animals._
The objection here is that animals of all kinds suffer a vast
_amount_ of pain and misery, which is wholly _unmerited_ and
perfectly _useless_; since, having no moral nature, they can neither
deserve pain nor profit by it. We will consider these points in
turn.
And first, as to the _amount_ which animals suffer. One animal does
not suffer more because a million suffer likewise, so we must
consider the suffering as it affects the individual, and not the
_total_ amount. And as to its extent we know but little. That
animals appear to suffer greatly, _e.g._, a mouse being caught by a
cat, is obvious; but how far they really suffer is doubtful, as
their feelings are probably far less sensitive than those of man; so
it is quite misleading to think what we should feel like in similar
circumstances. This is indeed evident when we reflect that suffering
is connected with the brain, as is shown by the fact that savages
suffer much less than civilised nations. And therefore we should
expect animals, whose mental development is far less advanced, to
suffer still less; while the lower forms of life we should not
expect to suffer at all.
And this is confirmed by observation, as several facts have been
noticed which almost force us to this conclusion. A crab, for
instance, will continue to eat, and apparently relish, a smaller
crab, while being itself slowly devoured by a larger one; and this
shows that the crab can feel scarcely any pain, since the almost
universal effect of pain is to destroy the pleasure of eating. And
many other instances are known.[5]
[Footnote 5: Transactions of Victoria Institute, vol. xxv., 1891, p.
257.]
Moreover, animals, except domestic ones which are partly trained and
civilised, appear to have no anticipation of suffering, and no power
of concentrating their thoughts upon it, which increases it so
greatly in man. And assuming, with reference to the above example,
that the mouse is not to live for ever, its being destroyed by a
cat is at most a very short misery, and perhaps involving altogether
less pain than if it died from disease or old age. Indeed few things
could be worse than for old and weak animals to be left to
themselves, and gradually die of starvation. And we must remember,
in a state of nature, with uncertain meals the cat would never
_play_ at capturing the mouse, thus giving it needless and repeated
sufferings, but it would kill it at once.
Then as to the so-called _struggle for existence_. It is nothing
like what is commonly supposed, as has been recognised by leading
naturalists. Thus _Darwin_ says:--'When we reflect on this struggle
we may console ourselves with the full belief that the war of nature
is not incessant, that no fear is felt, that death is generally
prompt, and that the vigorous, the healthy, and the happy survive
and multiply.' And _Wallace_ says:--'The popular idea of the
struggle for existence entailing misery and pain on the animal world
is the very reverse of the truth. What it really brings about is the
maximum of life, and of the enjoyment of life, with the minimum of
suffering and pain.'[6] On the whole, then, it seems probable that
pain among animals is far less than is commonly assumed, and in the
lower forms of life almost entirely absent.
[Footnote 6: C. Darwin. Origin of Species. 6th edit., 1888, p. 96.
A. R. Wallace. Darwinism, 1889, p. 40.]
Still it may be said, this only lessens the difficulty; for why
should animals suffer pain at all? As far as we can judge, it is
wholly _unmerited_, since, having no moral nature, and therefore no
responsibility, they cannot have done anything wrong to deserve it.
But then, the pleasure which they enjoy is also unmerited. The two
must in all fairness be taken together, and as a matter of fact,
animals seem to have a much greater amount of pleasure than of pain.
Their life (except when ill-treated by man) is, as a rule, one of
continual enjoyment, and probably, at any given moment, the number
of animals of any particular kind that are happy is incomparably
greater than those that are miserable. In short, health and
happiness is the rule, sickness and pain the exception.
Nor can it be said that pain is _useless_ to animals; for though
they have no moral nature to be improved, they have a physical
nature to be preserved and transmitted, and the sense of pain may be
essential for this. It is indeed a kind of sentry, warning them of
dangers, which might otherwise lead to their destruction. If for
example, animals felt no pain from excessive heat, they might not
escape when a forest was burning; or, if they felt no pain from
hunger, they might die of starvation. Thus pain is, in reality, a
_preservative of life_; and it is often not an evil at all; so no
part of this objection can be maintained.
(2.) _Physical evil in man._
We now pass on to the case of man. There is unfortunately no doubt
about the suffering which he endures. The struggling lives, the
painful diseases, the lingering deaths, not to mention accidents of
all kinds, are but too evident. And we may ask, would an Omnipotent
God, Who cared for man's welfare, have ever designed all this?
Now it is important to remember that a great deal of physical evil
originates in _moral_ evil, which will be considered later on. By
far the greater part of the pain and misery which men endure is
brought about by their own wickedness and folly, or by that of their
fellow-men. The recent war--worse in _extent_, though not worse in
kind, than all previous wars--has been a terrible example of this.
But it was man's doing, not God's; and man alone must be blamed for
it.
In the next place, many of the so-called evils of life do not
involve any actual suffering. If for instance a man loses the sight
of one eye, he need not have any pain; and were he originally blind
the possession of even one eye would have been thought a priceless
blessing. Again, however great may be the sufferings of life, they
cannot be as great as its _joys_, since nearly everyone wishes to go
on living. While it is undeniable that human pain, like that of
animals, is most useful, serving to warn men of dangers and
diseases, which would otherwise lead to their destruction.
Moreover, in a material world like ours, if the forces of nature act
according to fixed laws, a certain amount of suffering seems
_inevitable_. If, for example, the force of gravity always acts as
it does, it will occasionally cause a tower to fall and injure
someone. Such an event could only be avoided by God's continually
interfering with these forces. But this would render all human life
a hopeless confusion. While, at present, owing to these forces being
invariable, a great deal of the evil which might otherwise result
from them can be foreseen and avoided. If, however, men will not
avoid it,--if, for instance, in spite of the numerous eruptions of
Vesuvius, they still choose to go and live on its slopes,--it is
hard to see how they can blame anyone but themselves. In the same
way, if a man chooses to sit on the safety valve of an engine, it is
his own fault if he gets blown up.
And even in other cases, when the evil cannot be foreseen, as in an
unexpected earthquake, it is at least open to doubt whether it is
any worse for a number of men to die like this, suddenly and
together, than that they should all die in the usual way, slowly,
one by one, and often after a long illness. It of course appeals
more to the imagination, but it probably involves less suffering.
Thus we may say that human suffering, excluding that due to man
himself, is by no means so great as it seems; that it is, as a rule,
more than counter-balanced by human happiness; and that a certain
amount seems not only useful, but in a world like ours inevitable.
But though all these considerations are undoubtedly true, and
undoubtedly lessen the difficulty, they do not remove it altogether.
The following appears to be the true explanation: that though God
foreknew all this suffering when He created the world, and in this
sense _designed_ it, He need not have _desired_ it, but may have
desired something else, for the attainment of which, this suffering
was a necessary condition. And this _something else_ must obviously
have been the training and perfecting of man's character; for which,
some kind of suffering seems essential.
For if there were no suffering in the world, there could be no
fortitude, no bravery, no patience, no compassion, no sympathy with
others, no self-sacrifice for their good--nothing, in fact, that
constitutes the highest type of man. In other words, a being such as
man, can only be made perfect through suffering. Therefore this
suffering implies no defect in God's design. It is a means, and, as
far as we can judge, the only possible means for developing the
highest and noblest character in man, such a character indeed as
alone makes him worthy of admiration. Moreover, a man's character
can only be formed by himself, it cannot be given him ready-made,
for then it would not be _his_ character at all; and it can only be
formed gradually, it cannot be done all at once. Therefore, if God
wishes a man to have the special character acquired by constantly
bearing suffering, it can only be obtained by constantly giving him
suffering to bear.
Here, then, we have the most probable explanation of the physical
evils which man endures. Their object is to develop and perfect his
character; and as this is a good object, and as it cannot be
obtained in any other way, they may well have been designed by a
good God.
(3.) _Moral evil in man._
But we now come to the most difficult part of the subject, the
existence of _moral evil_ in man. This, as before said, is the chief
cause of human misery, and might it not have been avoided? In other
words, could not all _sin_ have been excluded from the world? But
assuming man to be a _free being_, it could not have been avoided,
for freedom is always liable to abuse. Therefore, if God decided
that man was to be free in some cases to act right or wrong, it
necessarily follows that he may act wrong. No Omnipotence could
possibly alter this without destroying man's freedom. Hence, though
God designed all the moral evil in the world, He need not have
desired it, but (as before) may have desired some totally different
object, for the attainment of which, this evil was a necessary
condition.
Nor, again, is it difficult to suggest what this object may have
been. For unless man is a free being, he can be little better than a
machine--a correctly-behaved machine, no doubt, and one able to talk
and think, but still only a machine. And God may not have wished
that man, who is, as far as we know, His highest and noblest work,
should be only a machine. Indeed, the superiority of free men who
act right, though they might act wrong, to mere machines is obvious
to everyone; and it may far outweigh the disadvantage that some of
them should act wrong. Therefore, though we have to pay dearly for
freedom, it is well worth the price; and the _infinite value of
goodness_, as it is called, may justify, though nothing else could,
the risks involved in giving man a free will.
Nor is there anything unlikely in the Creator thus caring about the
conduct of His creatures. We certainly should not admire an earthly
ruler who regarded traitors to his cause, and his most faithful
adherents with the same indifference; or an earthly parent who did
not care whether his children obeyed him or not. Why, then, should
we think that God, Who has not only given us free will, but also a
conscience by which to know what is right (_i.e._, what is _His_
will), should yet be indifferent as to whether we do it or not?
Everything points the other way, that God, Who is a Moral Being, and
Who has made us moral beings also, wishes us to freely act right.
Therefore He allows us to act wrong, with all the misery it
involves, in order to render possible our thus freely choosing to
act right.
Or to put the argument in other words, a free being is far higher
than a being who is not free, and yet a free being cannot exist
without the possibility of his acting wrong. So, however strange the
conclusion appears, moral evil, or at least its possibility, is
essential to the universe, if it is to be worthy of its Creator, if,
that is, it is to contain beings of the highest order--_persons_ and
not _things_. Or, to put it still shorter, if God is good, it is
only natural that He should create beings capable of goodness, and
therefore of necessity capable of badness, for the two must go
together.
And if it be still urged that, as God foreknew how men would use
their freedom, He need not have created those who would habitually
use it wrongly; in other words, there might be no _wicked men_ in
the world, the answer is obvious. Wicked men are as necessary as any
other form of evil to test a man's character, and to develop moral
perfection. For just as physical evil, pain, suffering, etc., can
alone render possible certain physical virtues, such as fortitude
and patience; so moral evil, or sin, can alone render possible
certain moral virtues.
If, for instance, there were no sin in the world there could be no
forbearance with the faults of others, no moral courage in standing
alone for an unpopular cause, no forgiveness of injuries, nor (what
is perhaps the highest of all virtues) any rendering good for evil.
These require not merely the possibility, but the actual existence
of sin, and they would all be unattainable if we had nothing but
physical evils to contend with, and there were only good men in the
world. The case then stands thus. Evil men are essential to an evil
world. An evil world is essential to proving a man's character.
Proving a man's character is essential to his freely choosing to
serve God; and his freely choosing to serve God seems essential to
his being such a servant as God would care to have.
One other point should be noticed before we conclude. It is that
with regard to the conduct of free beings, _foreknowing_ is not the
same as _foreordaining_. God may have foreknown how a man would use
or misuse his freedom, but without foreordaining or compelling him
to do either. In the same way, in human affairs it is possible in
some cases, and to some extent, to foreknow what a man will do, but
without in any way compelling him to do it. This is a most important
distinction, and we have no reason for thinking that God
foreordained any man to misuse his freedom, though He may have
foreknown that he would do so.[7]
[Footnote 7: Of course if God creates a man, _foreknowing_ how he
will act, He may, in a certain sense, be said to _foreordain_
it as well; compare Rom. 8. 29. "Whom He foreknew, He also
foreordained."]
(_D._) CONCLUSION.
We may now sum up the argument in this chapter. We first showed that
God is not only able to take an interest in man's welfare; but that
the marks of beneficent design afford abundant evidence that He
actually does so. On the other hand, the so-called _insignificance
of man_ is more apparent than real, since his position at the end of
evolution shows his great importance; while his mind and spirit
fully account for this, and prove him to be an altogether unique
being, certainly in regard to this earth, and perhaps in regard to
the universe.
And as to the _existence of evil_, it is undeniable that God must
have foreknown all the evil in the world when He created it; and in
this sense He designed it. But He may also have foreknown that it is
only temporary, and that it will lead to a more than compensating
permanent good, which could not be obtained in any other way. For
the evils in this world need not be _ends_, but may be only _means_
to ends; and, for all we know, they may be the very best means for
obtaining the very best ends. Indeed, as before said, they seem to
be not only the best, but the only possible means for developing all
that is highest and noblest in man. We conclude, then, that though
God designed both the evil and the good in the world, He need not
have desired both: and there are indications in nature sufficient to
show that the good is what He desired, and the evil is only its
inevitable companion.
This conclusion is often expressed by saying that _Goodness_ is an
attribute of God; and the word may certainly be admitted. Indeed if
God is not _good_, He has made a being, in this respect, nobler than
Himself; since some men, in spite of their faults, are undoubtedly
good. But it is important to notice the sense in which the word is
used, and in which alone it is true.
By God's _goodness_, then, or by His taking an interest in man's
welfare, is not meant a mere universal beneficence, or wishing to
make everyone as happy as possible, without regard to his conduct.
The existence of evil seems fatal to such a theory as this. But
rather God wishes to promote man's welfare in the truest and best
way, not by giving him everything he likes, but by training and
developing his character. God is thus not only _beneficent_, but
_righteous_ also. And He therefore wishes man to be not only happy,
but righteous also. And He therefore of necessity (as a man cannot
be made righteous against his will) gives him _free_ will, with the
option of being unrighteous, and consequently unhappy. So this view
of God's character, combining beneficence with righteousness, not
only accounts for the marks of beneficent design all through nature,
but also for the existence of evil, especially moral evil, in man,
and seems the only way of reconciling them. In short, beneficence
and righteousness are both good, and the Goodness of God includes
both.
Now if we admit that goodness is an attribute of God, the analogy
from His other attributes would show that He possesses it in its
highest perfection. He is thus a Being not only of infinite _Power_
and _Wisdom_, but also of perfect _Goodness_--the word 'perfect'
being obviously more suitable for a moral quality like goodness,
than 'infinite' would be. And it will be noticed that these three
great attributes of God correspond to the three chief arguments for
His existence. The first, or that from the universe requiring an
adequate Cause, proves an All-Powerful Creator; the second, or that
from its having been designed, proves that He is All-Wise; and the
third, or that from human nature, proves that He is All-Good. They
also correspond to some extent to the three aspects under which we
considered man's character in the last chapter; so we arrive at the
grand conclusion that God is physically _All-Powerful_, mentally
_All-Wise_, and morally _All-Good_.
CHAPTER VI.
THAT GOD MIGHT MAKE SOME REVELATION TO MAN.
This depends chiefly on man's future destiny.
(_A._) THE IMMORTALITY OF MAN.
By this is meant the personal immortality of man's spirit,
and there are four chief arguments in its favour:
(1.) From his unique position.
(2.) From his unjust treatment.
(3.) From his vast capabilities.
(4.) From his inherent belief.
(5.) Counter-arguments.
(_B._) THE PROBABILITY OF A REVELATION.
(1.) From God's character; since He would be likely to
benefit man.
(2.) From man's character; since he desires it, and his
unique position makes him not altogether unworthy
of it.
(3.) Two difficulties: a revelation is said to be unjust, if
only given to certain men; and anyhow incredible
unless quite convincing. But neither of these can
be maintained.
We decided in the last two chapters that man is a free and
responsible being, and that God takes an interest in his welfare. We
now come to the subject of a _Revelation_, by which is meant any
superhuman knowledge directly imparted by God to man. And by
_superhuman_ knowledge is meant any knowledge which man could not
obtain for himself; such as God's object in creating him, His wishes
in regard to his conduct, or any past or future events of which he
would otherwise be ignorant. And that God could, if He chose, impart
such knowledge, either by visions, or dreams, or in some other way,
can scarcely be disputed. Nor will anyone affirm (least of all an
Agnostic) that we know enough about God to be quite sure that He
never would choose to do so. Therefore a revelation is certainly
_possible_; but is it at all _probable_? This is what we have to
examine. And as the answer to it will depend to a great extent on
man's future destiny, we will first consider the question of his
_Immortality_, and then the probability, or otherwise, of God's
making a _Revelation_ to him.
(_A._) THE IMMORTALITY OF MAN.
By this is meant the immortality of man's _spirit_. And if we admit
(as was admitted in Chapter IV.) that man is a compound being,
consisting of a free and partly supernatural spirit, his real
_self_, which controls his body and mind; what becomes of this
spirit at death? We know what becomes of the body: the various
molecules are arranged in other groups, and the natural forces are
changed into other natural forces. Nothing is lost or annihilated.
But what becomes of the spirit? If this is a free supernatural
force, the idea that it should perish altogether, when the
accompanying natural forces are re-arranged at death, is most
unlikely. Indeed the apparent indestructibility of matter points to
a corresponding immortality of spirit.
No doubt God could, _if He chose_, destroy either, just as He could
create either; but without some supernatural interference, the
creation or destruction of either seems incredible. Yet if a man's
spirit is not destroyed, it must survive; for it does not seem to
have any separate parts into which it can be split up like a man's
body. Therefore, as it cannot undergo the only kind of death of
which we have any knowledge (which is this re-arrangement of
separate parts), it may survive for ever. And there are four chief
arguments in favour of this personal immortality of man;--those
derived from his _unique position_; his _unjust treatment_; his
_vast capabilities_; and his _inherent belief_. We will consider
each in turn, and then see what can be said on the other side.
(1.) _From his unique position._
The first argument is from man's _unique position_, more especially
when we regard him as the last and noblest result of the vast scheme
of evolution, which has been in progress here for so many thousands
of years. For such a vast scheme, like everything else, requires not
only a _cause_, but a _purpose_; and however much evolution can
explain, it cannot explain itself. Why should there have been any
evolution at all? Why should a universe of dead matter have ever
produced life? There must have been some motive in all this, and
what adequate motive can be suggested?
We can only look for an answer in _man_, who is not only the highest
creature on this planet, but as far as we know on any planet; so
here if anywhere we must find the explanation. Evolution would then
have _God_ for its Cause, and _man_ for its purpose--an undoubtedly
adequate _Cause_, but is it an adequate _purpose_? For the human
race cannot exist for ever as it is. Everything points to this earth
sooner or later falling into the sun, when all forms of life must
cease. Therefore, if man is not immortal, the whole of evolution
which has led up to him as its final end will still have had no
_permanent_ result. And no result which is not permanent seems
altogether worthy of the Eternal God, the Author of this evolution.
But if, on the other hand, man is immortal; and if this earth, with
its strange mixture of good and evil, is a suitable place in which
to test and form his character; and if perhaps God wishes hereafter
to be surrounded by men who have stood the test, and have formed
their character in accordance with His Will; then it may lead to a
_permanent_ result. And then its creation would not be such a
hopeless mystery as on the opposite theory; for the perfecting of
immortal beings seems an object worthy even of God.
Thus if we deny the immortality of man, the whole of evolution
becomes meaningless, and nature is a riddle without a solution. But
if we admit it, there is at least the possibility of a satisfactory
answer. For then, as just said, nature is seen to be only _a means
to an end_--a temporary (though perhaps necessary) means to a
permanent end--the end being to produce _man_ (a free being), and
then to provide a suitable place for his moral training. And this
will enable him, if he wishes, from being a _free_ man, to become
also a _righteous_ man, that is, a man who acts right, though he
might act wrong, and thus to some extent worthy to share in his
Maker's immortality. And we must remember, man could not have been
created righteous, using the word in its strict sense. He might have
been created _perfect_ (like a machine), or _innocent_ (like a
child), but to be _righteous_ requires, as just said, his own
co-operation--his continually choosing to act right, though he might
act wrong. And this of necessity is a slow process, with some
failures. But the end aimed at is a permanent, and therefore perhaps
an adequate, end; and the present world seems exactly suited to
attain this end, as it affords a man boundless opportunities (every
day, if he likes to use them) of acting right, though he might act
wrong.
We thus seem forced to the conclusion--however strange it may
appear--that the gradual training and perfecting of _man_ is the
only adequate explanation of the world, the real object of its long
evolution. Yet, if he is not _immortal_, this object can never be
attained, for no one reaches moral perfection here; while even if
they did, it would only last for a short time. And we may ask, is it
likely that such a vast scheme should end in failure, or at most in
only a temporary success? Is it not rather probable that if man is
the end of evolution, then God, the Author of evolution, must value
him; and if God values him, He is not likely to let him perish for
ever. In short (as it has been well put), such vast progress from
such small beginnings points to an end proportionately great, and
this involves the immortality of man. On the whole, then, we may say
in the words of Romanes, one of the great champions of evolution,
that 'only by means of this theory of probation is it possible to
give any meaning to the world, _i.e._, any _raison d'être_ of human
existence.'[8]
[Footnote 8: Thoughts on Religion, 1895, p. 142.]
(2.) _From his unjust treatment._
The second argument is from man's _unjust treatment_ in this world.
For as we saw in the last chapter, God is a Moral Being, able to
distinguish right from wrong; and, as far as we can judge, He is One
Who will always act right Himself. Yet His treatment of men in this
world seems most unjust. Wicked men are allowed to prosper by their
wickedness, good men suffer unjustly, while some men's lives seem to
be nothing but suffering; and how is this to be accounted for?
There is here again one, and only one, satisfactory explanation,
which is that this life is not the whole of man's existence, but
only a preparation for a _future life_--a short trial for a long
hereafter. And, looked at from this point of view, the most
apparently miserable lives may afford as valuable training, perhaps
more so, than the outwardly happy ones. The temptation to
dishonesty, for example, can be as well resisted by a poor man who
is only tempted to steal sixpence, as by a rich man who is tempted
to embezzle a thousand pounds.
And if resisting such a temptation helps to form a man's character,
as it certainly does, and hence, perhaps, to fit him for a better
life hereafter, this can be as well done in the one case as in the
other. And the same principle applies universally; even a child has
his temptations, which are very real _to the child_, though they may
seem ridiculous to us. So if this life is intended as a time of
probation in which to form a man's character, we cannot imagine a
better system or one more admirably adapted to the end in view. And
we must remember a man's _character_ is the thing most worth
forming, since (as far as we can judge) it is his only _permanent_
possession. All else will be surrendered at death, but his character
will last as long as the man himself, and hence perhaps for ever.
Nor is this all, for these trials and sufferings themselves may be
the very means of adding to man's future happiness. The joy of
having resisted temptation, for instance, would be impossible if men
were never tempted; and the joy of rescuing others from suffering
and sin, and thus perhaps making everlasting friendships, would be
impossible if there were no suffering, and no sin. And the same
applies in other cases. So man's probation in this life, with its
incessant battle against evil, may (for all we know) increase his
future happiness in a way which nothing else could possibly do, and
to an extent of which we can form no conception. No pain or
suffering, then, can be looked upon as useless, and no position in
this world as one to be despised; in short, to anyone who believes
in a future state, life is always worth living. And we may be sure
that in a future state every injustice will be made good, and all
wrongs will be righted.
(3.) _From his vast capabilities._
The third argument is from man's _vast capabilities_. For he does
not seem adapted to this life only, but has aspirations and longings
far beyond it. His powers seem capable of continual and almost
endless development. Nearly all men wish for immortality. This life
does not seem to satisfy them entirely. For instance, men,
especially scientific men, have a longing after knowledge which can
never be fully realised in this world. A man's capacities are thus
out of all proportion to his destiny, if this life is all; and to
many it seems improbable that the Creator should have endowed men
with such needless and useless capacities.
And this is strongly confirmed by the analogy of nature. For
example, a bird in an egg shows rudimentary organs which cannot be
used as long as it remains in the egg; and this of itself is a proof
that it is intended some day to leave the egg. On the other hand, a
full-grown bird seems to be entirely adapted to its present state,
and not to have any longing after, or capacity for, any higher
state; therefore we may infer that no higher state is intended for
it. And by the same reasoning we may infer that some higher state is
intended for man, as his mental and spiritual nature is not entirely
satisfied by his present life. In short, all animals seem made for
this world alone, and man is the only unsatisfied being in the
universe.
Moreover, the period of preparation in a man's life seems out of all
proportion to the time prepared for, if death ends all. The
development in a man's moral character often continues till nearly
the close of his life. His character has then reached maturity. But
for what is it matured? Surely not for immediate destruction. Must
not the wise Creator, Who designed everything else with such
marvellous skill, have intended something better for His noblest
creatures than mere boundless capabilities, unsatisfied longings,
and a lifelong preparation all for nothing?
(4.) _From his inherent belief._
The fourth argument is from man's _belief_ in immortality. For such
a belief has existed among men in nearly every age and country,
learned and ignorant, civilised and uncivilised. It was implied by
the pre-historic men who buried food and weapons with their dead,
and it was maintained by such philosophers as Socrates and Plato,
and how are we to account for it? It cannot have arisen from
experience; and the attempts to explain it as due to the desire
which men have for immortality, or to someone occasionally dreaming
that he sees a departed friend, are quite inadequate. Desire is not
conviction, and dreams are notoriously untrustworthy. They might
account for an individual here and there entertaining this belief,
but not for mankind always and everywhere doing so; especially in
face of the apparent contradiction afforded by every grave.
The belief, then, seems intuitive, and an inherent part of human
nature; and we may ask, is it likely that God should have implanted
such a strange belief in man if it were erroneous?
These, then, are the four great arguments in favour of man's
immortality--those derived from his unique position; his unjust
treatment; his vast capabilities; and his inherent belief. And with
the doubtful exception of the second, not one of them applies to
animals; so the common objection, that if man is immortal, animals
must be so too, is quite untenable.
(5.) _Counter-arguments._
On the other hand, the great and only important argument _against_
man's immortality is that his spirit seems to be inseparably
connected with his body. As far as we can judge, it is born with the
body; it often inherits the moral character of its parents, just as
the body inherits bodily diseases; it certainly develops and matures
with the body; and in most cases it seems to gradually decay with
the body; therefore it is inferred the two perish together.
But this does not follow; since, as said in Chapter IV., it is not
the _same_ body (in the sense of the same material particles) with
which the spirit is united, even in this life. It is united to a
continually changing body, yet it always survives. So it is not
unlikely that it may survive the still greater change at death.
Moreover, it is united to the body as its _master_, not its servant.
It is, as already shown, a _free_ spirit; and it decides to a great
extent what the body shall say, and what it shall do. It thus uses
the body as a means, or instrument, by which to act in the outer
world; and therefore, of course, when the instrument gets out of
order, its actions will become confused, but without implying that
the spirit itself is so. In the same way, if we shut up a clerk in a
telegraph office, as soon as his instruments get out of order, the
messages he sends, which are his only means of communicating with
the outer world, will become confused, and finally cease, but
without implying that there is anything wrong with the clerk
himself.
And this is confirmed by the fact that instances are known in which
a man's intellect and will have remained quite vigorous all through
a mortal sickness, and up to the very moment of death; so the
gradual decay of the body does not necessarily involve that of the
mind and spirit. While in states which somewhat resemble death,
when, for instance, the body is fast asleep, or rendered unconscious
by an accident, the mind and spirit are often peculiarly active, as
in dreams. Therefore, when the body is really dead, the spirit may
(for all we know) not only survive, but be endowed with still
greater powers.
On the whole, then, this is not an insuperable difficulty; while the
previous arguments render the idea of a future life _distinctly
probable_. And this has, of course, a most important bearing on our
next question; indeed, it is scarcely too much to say that the
probability of a revelation depends on that of a future life. For if
death ends all, man's existence is so short that a revelation can
scarcely be thought probable; but if he is to live for ever, the
case is very different.
(_B._) THE PROBABILITY OF A REVELATION.
Now (assuming man to be immortal) a revelation, from whichever side
we regard it, appears to be somewhat _probable_. For God is a Being,
Who seems likely to make a revelation; and man is a being exactly
fitted to receive one; so we will consider these points first, and
then the chief difficulties.
(1.) _From God's character._
Now we have already shown that God takes an interest in man's
welfare, being not only beneficent, but _righteous_; and that He
apparently wishes to train and develop man's character, so that he
may be righteous also. And from this we may infer that if a
revelation would benefit man, and thus _help_ him to be righteous
also, it would not be improbable for God to make one. And that the
knowledge given by a revelation might influence him in this way
cannot be denied; for, as a matter of fact, such knowledge, either
real or pretended, has had precisely this effect on millions of men.
We may also infer from God's methods in nature, which are those of
slow development, that if He made a revelation at all it would be
done _gradually_. At first it would be very simple, and such as
could be transmitted orally. Then when man acquired the art of
writing, and could thus hand it on accurately, a more definite
revelation might be given. And this again might become more and more
perfect, as man himself became more perfect. We obviously do not
know enough to speak with confidence, but still God's character, so
far as we can judge of it, seems to be in favour of His making some
revelation--and that a _progressive_ revelation--to man.
(2.) _From man's character._
Passing on now to man's character, we find that he has been given a
nature exactly fitted to receive a revelation. For religion of some
kind is, and always has been, practically universal; and nearly all
important religions have rested on real or pretended revelations
from God, and have been accepted in consequence. In other words the
nature of man has everywhere led him to seek for, demand, and, if
need be, imagine a revelation from God. Nor is this in any way
surprising, for a thoughtful man cannot help _wishing_ to know why
he is placed in this world; why he is given free will; how he is
meant to use his freedom; and what future, if any, is in store for
him hereafter: in short, what was God's object in creating him. It
seems of all knowledge to be the highest, the noblest, the most
worth knowing.
And therefore as this result of man's nature was not only brought
about by God, but must have been foreknown, and intended by Him, it
is not improbable that He should satisfy it; especially as it cannot
be satisfied in any other way, for the knowledge being superhuman,
is out of man's own reach. And it may be added, the more we realise
this, and feel that God is _Unknowable_, in the sense that we can
gain no satisfactory knowledge about Him by human science and
reasoning, so much the more likely does it seem that He should give
us such knowledge by revelation.
And all this is strengthened when we consider man's _unique
position_ to which we have already alluded. For if we admit that the
creation and perfecting of man is the chief object the Creator had
in view for so many thousands of years, it does not seem unlikely
that He might wish to hold some communication with him. In fact, as
the whole of nature shows design or purpose; and as man occupies a
special place in nature; we may fairly conclude that God has some
special purpose in regard to man, and, for all we know, He may have
something special to tell him about it.
We conclude then that man's character, and the unique position he
occupies on this earth, is a strong argument in favour of his
receiving some revelation from God.
(3.) _Two difficulties._
But now for the other side. There are two chief difficulties. The
first is on the ground of _injustice_; since any revelation, it is
said, would imply a partiality to the men or nation to whom it was
given, and would therefore be unjust to the rest of mankind. But
this is quite untenable, for God's other benefits are not bestowed
impartially. On the contrary, pleasure and pain, good and evil, are
never equally distributed in this world. What seems to be partiality
and favouritism is the rule everywhere, and this without any
apparent merit on the part of the men concerned. Moreover, the
advantages of a revelation may not concern this world only. And all
who believe in a future life are convinced of God's justice, and
that men will only be judged according to the knowledge of His Will
which they possessed, or might have possessed had they chosen, and
not according to any higher standard which was out of their reach.
The other and more important difficulty is, that if God gave a
revelation at all, it would be absolutely _convincing_. Everything
that God does He does well; and we cannot, it is urged, imagine His
making a revelation to man, and yet doing it so imperfectly as to
leave men in doubt as to whether He had done it or not. For this
would imply that He either could not, or would not, make the
evidence sufficient to ensure conviction, neither of which is
credible.
Now, though all this seems very probable, a moment's reflection will
show that it is not conclusive; for exactly the same may be said in
regard to the whole of Natural Religion. Is it likely, for instance,
that God should create free and responsible men, and yet give them
such insufficient evidence about it, that while many are fully
convinced, others deny not only their own freedom and responsibility,
but even the existence of the God Who made them? Yet He has done so.
Therefore there is nothing improbable in the evidence for a revelation,
if one were given, being of a similar character.
Indeed, there is much to be said in favour of its being so, since in
most other matters man is left a free choice. He is often able to
find out how he ought to think and how he ought to act, but he is
not forced to do either. And God may have wished that the same rule
should be followed in regard to a revelation, and that man should be
left free to believe it or not, just as he is left free to act on it
or not, if he does believe it, and just as he is left free to choose
right or wrong in other cases. Therefore we cannot say that no
revelation can come from God unless the evidence for it is
overwhelming. It would doubtless be sufficient to convince a man if
he took the trouble to examine it carefully; only it need not be
such as to compel conviction. What kind of evidence we may expect
will be considered in the next chapter.
Neither of these difficulties, then, is at all serious; and we are
forced back to the conclusion that, provided man is immortal, a
revelation seems for several reasons to be somewhat probable. To put
it shortly, if God is good and really cares for man's welfare, it
seems unlikely that He should withhold from him that knowledge which
is the highest, the noblest, and the most longed for;--the knowledge
of Himself. While, if man is a free and immortal being, occupying a
unique position in the world, and intended to live for ever, it
seems unlikely that he should be told nothing, and therefore know
nothing, as to why he was created, or what is his future destiny.
Thus when we consider both God's character and man's character, it
seems on the whole to be somewhat _probable_, that God would make a
revelation to man; telling him how he ought to use his freedom in
this world, and possibly what future is in store for him hereafter.
CHAPTER VII.
THAT A MIRACULOUS REVELATION IS CREDIBLE.
A Divine messenger would probably have credentials.
(_A._) SUPERHUMAN SIGNS.
These include superhuman _knowledge_, afterwards verified
(such as prophecy), and superhuman _coincidences_; and
there is nothing incredible in either.
(_B._) SUPERNATURAL SIGNS, or Miracles.
These are 'marvels specially worked by God as signs to
confirm a revelation.' This definition is threefold, referring
to their outward appearance, cause, and purpose.
(1.) _Miracles as marvels_: though they seem to be contrary
to experience, they are not really so, for we have no
experience of the proper kind to refer to.
(2.) _Miracles as special works of God_: they only interfere
with the uniformity of nature in the same way that
human works interfere with it.
(3.) _Miracles as signs_: there is nothing to show that they
are inconsistent with God's Character.
We decided in the last chapter that it was somewhat probable for God
to make a revelation to man, that is to say, to certain men, for
them to make known to others. And if so, it is also probable that
these men would have some means of showing that the knowledge had
come from God and not from themselves. In other words, if God sends
a message to man, it is probable that the messenger would have
_credentials_. And this is especially so when we remember that men
have often appeared in the world's history who professed to have a
revelation from God, and have misled mankind in consequence. Is it
not probable, then, that if God really did give a revelation, He
would take care that His true messengers should have credentials
which would distinguish them from all the others?
These credentials, then, or _signs_, must plainly be such as could
not be imitated by man; and must therefore of necessity be
_superhuman_, if not _supernatural_. So we may divide them into
these two classes; and we have now to consider whether they are
_credible_. By this is meant something more than merely possible;
for the possibility of such signs follows at once from the existence
of God. But are they credible? is there, that is, at least a slight
chance that they would occur?
(_A._) SUPERHUMAN SIGNS.
These include, to begin with, superhuman _knowledge_, which can be
afterwards verified, such as _prophecy_. And there is no difficulty
here, provided we admit a revelation at all. The only possible
objection refers to prophecies regarding human conduct; which it may
be said would interfere with man's freedom. But this is only part of
the more general objection that any foreknowledge on God's part
would interfere with man's freedom, which we have already considered
in Chapter II.; and there is no special difficulty in regard to
prophecies. In every case, as said before, God merely foreknows the
use man will make of his freedom. Therefore the event will not occur
_because_ it was foretold, but rather it was foretold because God
knew that it would occur.
Superhuman _coincidences_ form another, and very important class of
superhuman signs. In these a man's acts or sayings are confirmed by
natural events _coinciding_ with them in a remarkable manner. For
example, suppose a prophet claimed to have a revelation from God;
and, as a proof of this, invited the people to witness a sacrifice
on a cloudless day. He then killed an animal, and placed it on an
altar of stones, but put no fire under it, and even threw water over
it. Suddenly, however, a thunderstorm arose, and the sacrifice was
struck by lightning. Now the thunderstorm might have arisen and the
lightning might have struck on that particular spot, in strict
accordance with natural laws. Yet the _coincidence_ of this
occurring just when and where the prophet wanted it, would tend
strongly to show that God, Who must have foreknown and designed the
coincidence, meant to confirm what the prophet said.
Or, to put the argument in other words, the lightning would seem to
have struck the sacrifice _on purpose_; and therefore such events
have been popularly described as _natural forces acting rationally_.
Of course, as a rule, the forces of nature do not act rationally. A
falling meteorite, for instance, does not go a yard out of its way
to kill anyone, or to spare him. Man, on the other hand, does act
rationally. His acts are directed for a purpose, and thus show
design. And, in the events we are considering, the forces of nature
seem also to act with a purpose; and this makes it probable that
the Author of these forces was really acting with this purpose. In
short, the events seem to have been not only _superhuman_, but
_designed_ coincidences. And they present no difficulty whatever
from a scientific point of view, as they are part of the ordinary
course of nature.
Of course, the value of such coincidences varies greatly according
to whether the event is of a usual or unusual character. In the
latter case, more especially if the event is very unusual or the
coincidence very striking, they are popularly called miracles. And
they may have considerable value, though there is always a slight
chance of the agreement being, as we might say, accidental.
(_B._) SUPERNATURAL SIGNS.
We pass on now to supernatural signs or _Miracles_ in the strict
sense; which we will define as _marvels specially worked by God as
signs to confirm a revelation_. This definition has, of course, been
chosen so as to suit the miracles recorded in the Bible, and it is
really threefold. In the first place, a miracle is described as to
its outward _appearance_. It is a marvel--that is to say, a strange
and unusual event, which we cannot account for, and which thus
attracts attention. Secondly, it is described as to its _cause_.
This marvel is said to have been specially worked by God--that is to
say, by some action on His part different from His usual action in
nature. While, lastly, it is described as to its _purpose_; it is a
marvel worked by God as a sign to confirm a revelation.
The first of these aspects is expressed in the Old Testament by the
word _wonder_, the second by such phrases as God's _mighty hand_ or
_outstretched arm_, and the third by the word _sign_; all these
terms being often used together. While in the New Testament the
words used are _wonders_, _mighty works_, and _signs_, which again
exactly correspond to these three aspects of the miracles. And it
should be noticed these aspects are not chosen merely to suit the
present argument, since other events can and ought to be looked at
in the same way, not as mere facts, but also with reference to their
alleged cause and purpose. And to show the great importance of this,
we will consider an event from modern history; and select the
well-known example of the Mont Cenis Tunnel.
Suppose, then, that anyone heard of this as a _marvel_ only, the
cause and purpose being left out of account. Suppose, that is, he
heard that a small straight cavity of uniform size, and several
miles long, had been formed under a range of mountains; and that it
had begun as two cavities, one from each end, which after years of
growth, had exactly met in the middle. He would at once pronounce
the event incredible, for the cavity is quite unlike all natural
cavities.
But now suppose the next point, as to its _cause_, to be introduced.
It is said to be something more than a natural cavity, and to be the
work of man. All previous difficulties would now vanish, but fresh
ones would arise. For numbers of men must have worked together for
years to excavate such a cavity, and from what we know of human
nature, men will only do this for commercial or profitable ends, and
not for boring useless holes through mountains; so the event is
still practically incredible.
But now suppose the last point of _purpose_ to be introduced. It is
said that this is not a mere useless hole bored through a mountain;
but a hole bored for a particular purpose; it is, in fact, a railway
tunnel. Then all difficulties would disappear. Of course, whether we
believe the tunnel was actually made depends upon what evidence we
have; but it is clear that when we consider the _cause_ by which,
and the _purpose_ for which, it is said to have been made, there is
nothing incredible about it.
Now a similar method must be adopted in regard to miracles. They
must not be regarded simply as _marvels_, but as marvels said to
have been brought about by an adequate _cause_, and for a sufficient
_purpose_. And it is just these elements of cause and purpose which
may make the marvels credible. We will consider these points in
turn.
(1.) _Miracles as marvels._
The first aspect of miracles is that of marvels. As such, they are
events which seem to be _contrary to our experience_--contrary, that
is, to what our experience of apparently similar events would lead
us to expect. Suppose, for instance, it were stated that on one
occasion three men were thrown into a furnace, but instead of being
burnt to death they walked about, and in a few minutes came out
alive and unhurt.
Such a marvel would be contrary to our experience, and that it would
be therefore _very improbable_ is obvious. But is this improbability
sufficient in all cases to make the event incredible, no matter
what testimony there may be in its favour? Hume's argument that it
is sufficient is well known. He says we can only judge of the
probability of anything, whether it be the occurrence of an event,
or the truthfulness of the narrator, by _experience_. And as it is
contrary to experience for miracles to be true, but not contrary to
experience for testimony to be false, the balance of probability
must always be against the miracle.
But of course this reasoning, if true, must apply to all alleged
events which are contrary to experience; and yet such events have
occurred by the thousand. Let us take a single example. Everyone has
had some experience as to how far it is possible to hear the human
voice distinctly, and till the last half century, the limit has
always been fixed at a few hundred yards. Now, suppose anyone were
told for the first time that it was possible to speak right across
England, he would justly say that it was utterly contrary to
experience. No one, he would think, could possibly speak loud enough
to be heard even twenty miles away. But ought he to add that it was
therefore incredible?
From this it is clear that there must be some flaw in Hume's
argument; and it is easily discovered. For the argument regards the
event only as a marvel, and _without reference to its cause_. But we
have no right to leave this out of account, nor do we in ordinary
affairs. When anyone first hears of a marvel, he does not merely
compare it with his previous experience, and then come to a
decision; in which case, as Hume supposes, it might be always
against the marvel. But he first inquires how this strange event is
said to have been brought about. For if any cause is stated to have
been at work as to the influence of which he knows nothing, then he
has no experience of the proper kind to appeal to. There is the
testimony in favour of the event as before; and if he disbelieves
it, he does so, not because it is contrary to his experience, but
because he thinks the supposed cause either did not exist, or would
not have had the effect asserted.
A reference to the previous example will make this quite plain. When
the man first heard of persons talking across England, instead of at
once declaring it incredible, he would, if a reasonable man, inquire
as to the _cause_ of this. He would then be told that a wire was
stretched across England with an instrument called a telephone at
each end. Now, as to the possibility or adequacy of such a
contrivance he might doubt a good deal; but one thing would be quite
clear, that this was a case to which his experience, however large,
did not apply.
Here, then, is the explanation of Hume's argument. So long as a
marvel, contrary to experience, is regarded _only_ as a marvel, the
probability must be always against its truth. But if we inquire as
to how it was brought about, and find that some _cause_ is said to
have been at work, as to the influence of which we are ignorant,
then the argument is no longer applicable. We have simply no
experience of the proper kind to appeal to.
Now this is precisely the case with regard to miracles. As marvels
they seem contrary to experience; but they claim to have a special
_cause_, to be specially worked by God--that is to say, by some
action on His part different from His usual action in nature; and of
the influence of this cause we have no experience whatever. We may,
of course, deny its existence or doubt its adequacy; but the
argument, that the event is contrary to experience, vanishes.
It is clear then that the fact of miracles appearing to be contrary
to experience is no reason for disbelieving _them_, though it might
be a reason for disbelieving other alleged marvels, because they
claim to have a special cause, by which to account for this special
character. We have now to examine whether this special cause really
existed--that is to say, we pass on to the second aspect of the
miracles; our conclusion thus far being that they are credible as
_marvels_, if it be credible that they were _specially worked by
God_.
(2.) _Miracles as special works of God._
Now, any special action on God's part is often thought to present
great difficulties, as interfering with the uniformity of nature.
But, as we shall see, it would only interfere with it in the same
way that human action interferes with it. Neither of them violates
the laws of nature, though both are able to bring about results
which nature of itself could not have brought about.
In the case of human action this is quite obvious. Suppose, for
example, a clock with an iron pendulum is placed on a table and
keeps perfect time. Suddenly, without anyone touching it, it begins
to gain rapidly, and then, after a short time, goes on as before.
To anyone unacquainted with the cause, this would appear a _marvel_:
and might even be thought incredible, as (assuming the clock to be
properly constructed) it would seem to imply some alteration in the
laws of motion, or the force of gravity. Yet we know a man can
easily produce such a marvel by holding a magnet under the table.
The disturbing cause, it will be noticed, was not really the magnet,
which always acts according to law; nor the hand which held it; but
the action of the _human will_ on matter. This took place in the
man's brain, and enabled him to move first his hand, and then the
magnet. Thus we may say the marvel was produced by _natural means
supernaturally applied_; for the magnet was undoubtedly a natural
means, yet nature of itself would never have used it in the way
described. It required something _above_ nature (something
_super_-natural) and this was the free will of man.
Now, miracles claim to have been produced in a somewhat similar,
though to us unknown, manner by the action of God's Will on matter,
that is to say, by natural means supernaturally applied; and, if so,
they are certainly credible, under this head. For we know that God
has the power of acting on matter, and that He used it once in
creating the universe, so He might use it again if He thought fit.
Moreover, God's knowledge of the laws of nature is complete, while
man's is only partial. As, then, man, with his limited power over
nature and partial knowledge of its laws, can produce marvels so
unlike nature's ordinary course (a steam engine, for instance), yet
without violating any of its laws; still more can God, Who has
complete power over nature, and complete knowledge of its laws. For
to deny this would be to deny to God the power which we concede to
man; and which we must remember, God Himself has given to man. And
this would lead to the strange conclusion that God has enabled man
to do what He cannot do Himself. No doubt we cannot imagine _how_
God can exert His Will over matter, but neither can we imagine how
we can do it ourselves. The difficulty is as great in the one case
as in the other.
From this it is clear that miracles need not violate natural laws.
And though at first one might be inclined to dispute this with
regard to particular miracles; the statement is quite correct,
provided we make due allowance for our own ignorance. Take, for
example, the supposed case of the men in the furnace. We certainly
do not know how their bodies were kept cool, but we cannot say it
was impossible. For extreme heat, and even _extreme_ cold, may be
very close together, as is shown by the well-known experiment of
freezing mercury inside a red-hot crucible. As a mere marvel this is
quite as wonderful as the men in the furnace; and an ignorant man
would probably pronounce both to be equally incredible.
Or, to take another example, suppose it were said that on one
occasion a few loaves of bread were miraculously increased so as to
feed some thousands of persons: could we say that this must have
violated natural laws? Certainly not, for bread is composed of
carbon, and other elements, which were in abundance all round. And
though we only know one way of forming them into bread, which is by
means of a living plant, we cannot say that this is the only method.
Indeed, there is nothing incredible in substances like bread being
made artificially some day. Of course in all marvels produced by
_man_, we know the special cause at work, but this does not justify
us in saying that in a miracle, merely because we do not know it,
the laws of nature must be violated.
Moreover there is much to be said in favour of what is usually
called God's _immanence_ in nature, but which would perhaps be
better described as _nature's immanence in God_.[9] This means that
all natural forces are due to the present and immediate action of
God's Will; and if it is correct, it greatly lessens the difficulty
as to miracles. For then there would be no interference with nature
at all, leave alone violating its laws, God would be working there
all the time, only in a miracle He would not be working in exactly
the same way as in ordinary events.
[Footnote 9: Acts 17. 28; Col. 1. 17.]
But in any case there is, as we have shown, nothing incredible in
the way in which miracles are said to be _caused_, provided it is
credible that God should wish to use His power over nature in the
assumed manner; for natural forces are anyhow His servants, not His
masters. And this brings us to the third aspect of the miracles; for
whether God would wish to act in a certain way depends of course on
what _purpose_ He had in doing so.
(3.) _Miracles as signs._
Now the purpose for which miracles are said to be worked is as
_signs to confirm a revelation_. Therefore, since we have already
shown that it is somewhat probable that God would make a revelation,
we have now only to inquire whether miracles are suitable means for
confirming it. And they appear to be the most suitable means
possible; for they would both attract men's attention to the
revelation, and also convince them of its superhuman character;
which are precisely the two points required.
It may still be objected, however, that God's character, as shown by
nature, is _Unchangeable_; and therefore it is most improbable that
He would at times act in a special manner with regard to natural
events. And the more nature is studied the stronger does this
objection appear; since there are thousands of cases, such as storms
and earthquakes, when it seems to us that a slight interference with
nature would be most beneficial to man, yet it never occurs. Or the
objection may be otherwise expressed by saying that a miracle would
reflect on either the Wisdom or the Power of God; since, if
All-Wise, He would have foreseen the occasion, and if All-Powerful,
He would have provided for it; so any subsequent interference with
nature is something like having to remedy a fault.
This is no doubt the most serious objection to miracles, but it is
by no means insuperable. For, to begin with, God is a _Free Being_,
Who does not always act the same (Chapter I.). And when we turn to
the only other free being we know of, which is man himself, what do
we find? A man may, as a rule, act uniformly, yet on some special
occasion, and for some special reason, he may, and often does, act
differently; and why should not God do the same? Indeed the only
changelessness in a man which we could admire, would be that of
_moral character_, always and invariably acting right. And for all
we know the changelessness of God may be only of such a kind, and
this certainly would not prevent Him from acting in some special
manner, in order to obtain some special purpose.
Secondly, in the case before us, it is even probable that He would
do so, since the chief object of the miracles could not have been
obtained by the ordinary course of nature, though their immediate
effects might have been. For example, instead of healing men
miraculously, they might be healed naturally; but then there would
be no evidence that the healer was sent by God, and was speaking in
His name. In short, the messenger would be without _credentials_;
and, as we have already shown, this seems unlikely.
Thirdly, though miracles do not show God's changelessness in the
same manner as the unchanging course of nature, they are
not inconsistent with it. For no one supposes them to be
_after-thoughts_ with God, but to have been planned from the very
beginning. And if God always intended to make a revelation to man,
and always intended that when He did so, He would confirm it by
miracles, they would involve no inconsistency or change on His part.
Fourthly, there may be some _other_ attributes of God which miracles
show, and which the ordinary course of nature does not; such as His
superiority over nature itself on the one hand, and the interest He
takes in man on the other. One object of a revelation might be to
convince man that though God was the Ruler of the Universe, He yet
cared for man's happiness and valued his affections. And how could
such a revelation _as this_, be better confirmed than by an
(apparent) interference with nature for the benefit of man. For this
would show, as nothing else could show, both that there was a Being
_above_ nature, and that He cared for man _more_ than He cared for
nature.
And it entirely agrees with what we decided in the last chapter,
that the whole of nature seems to be only a means to an end, the end
being the moral training of man, enabling, that is, a free man to
become a _righteous_ man. And if so, it is out of the question to
think that _in order to further this end_--the very end for which
nature itself exists--God might not, if He thought fit, interfere
with the course of nature. We may therefore answer the objection in
one sentence, God is _All-Good_, as well as All-Wise, and
All-Powerful; and His Goodness might induce Him to use miracles,
though by His Wisdom and Power He might have dispensed with them.
We may now sum up the present argument. We showed that miracles are
credible both as _marvels_ and as _special works of God_, if it be
credible that they were brought about as _signs to confirm a
revelation_. And we have now shown that, supposing God to make a
revelation, which we have already admitted, there is nothing
inconsistent with His character as far as we know it, and therefore
nothing in the slightest degree incredible, in His using such signs,
as one of the means of confirming its truth. On the whole, then, we
conclude that a Miraculous Revelation is certainly _credible_.
Whether one has ever been made will be discussed in the following
chapters.
PART II.
_THE JEWISH RELIGION._
CHAP. VIII. THAT THE ACCOUNT OF THE CREATION WAS DIVINELY REVEALED.
" IX. THAT ITS ORIGIN WAS CONFIRMED BY MIRACLES.
" X. THAT ITS HISTORY WAS CONFIRMED BY MIRACLES.
" XI. THAT ITS HISTORY WAS ALSO CONFIRMED BY PROPHECIES.
" XII. THAT THE JEWISH RELIGION IS PROBABLY TRUE.
CHAPTER VIII.
THAT THE ACCOUNT OF THE CREATION WAS DIVINELY REVEALED.
(_A._) ITS GENERAL PRINCIPLES.
(1.) Its pure Monotheism; admittedly true.
(2.) Its seven days need not be taken literally.
(3.) Its gradual development; admittedly true.
(_B._) ITS DETAILED ORDER.
(1.) The earliest state of the earth.
(2.) Light.
(3.) The Firmament.
(4.) Dry Land.
(5.) Vegetation.
(6.) The Sun and Moon.
(7.) Fishes and Birds.
(8.) Land Animals.
(9.) Man.
(_C._) CONCLUSION.
The accuracy of the narrative points to its having been
Divinely revealed.
Having decided in the previous chapters on the Existence of God, and
that it was credible that He might make a miraculous Revelation to
man; we pass on now to the _Jewish Religion_, which (as well as the
Christian) actually claims to be such a Revelation.
And the first argument we have to consider in its favour is that
afforded by the opening chapter of Genesis. It is urged that this
account of the Creation must have been _Divinely revealed_, since
it contains a substantially correct account of events which could
not have been otherwise known at the time. What then we have to
examine is, whether this narrative is nearer the truth, as we now
know it from geology and other sciences, than could have been the
case, if written by a man ignorant of these sciences. And the
ancient narratives of Babylonia, India, Persia, and elsewhere, show
how far from the truth mere human conjecture on such a subject is
likely to be.
While if we admit a revelation at all, there is nothing improbable
in some account of the creation of the world having been revealed to
man very early in his history, and being accurately preserved by the
Jews, while only distorted versions of it occur among other nations.
Indeed considering the common custom among ancient nations of
worshipping the heavenly bodies, animals, etc., no subject could
have been more suited for a first revelation than the statement in
simple language that all these were created by one supreme God. We
will now consider the _general principles_ of the narrative, and
then its _detailed order_.
(_A._) ITS GENERAL PRINCIPLES.
The most important of these are its pure Monotheism, its seven days,
and its gradual development, each of which we will notice in turn.
(1.) _Its pure Monotheism._
This alone renders it almost, if not quite, unique among similar
narratives. According to the writer, the whole universe, including
sun, moon, and stars, was all due to _one_ God. And this is obvious
enough now, but it was not so when the narrative was written. For
other ancient accounts are either _Pantheistic_, and confuse God
with the universe; or _Dualistic_, and assume two eternal principles
of good and evil; or _Polytheistic_, and make the universe the work
of several gods. The Jewish writer, on the other hand, has kept
clear of all these theories; and he is admittedly right and all the
others wrong.
(2.) _Its seven days._
Next as to the seven days. Now it is generally assumed, doubtless
from their being referred to in the Fourth Commandment, that the
writer intended these _days_ to be ordinary days of twenty-four
hours each, but this is at least doubtful. For ordinary days depend
on the _sun_, and would therefore have been impossible before the
formation of the sun on the _fourth_ day; as the writer himself
implies, when he says that the division of time into days and years
was due to the sun.
Then there is the difficulty as to the _seventh_ day, when God
rested from all His work. This, it will be remembered had no close,
or _evening_, and it is implied that it has continued ever since.
For if God only rested for twenty-four hours, and then set to work
again it would not have been a rest from _all_ His work. But in this
case, the seventh day would represent a long period of time, and if
so the other days would probably do the same. Moreover the writer,
or compiler, of this very narrative, after describing the creation
in six days, says it all occurred in _one_ day,[10] so he could
scarcely have thought the days to be literal.
[Footnote 10: Gen. 2. 4.]
There are thus great difficulties from the narrative itself in
taking the word _day_ in its ordinary sense; and it seems better to
consider it (like so many terms in the Bible) as a human analogy
applied to God. Then God's _days_ must be understood in the same way
as God's _eyes_ or God's _hands_; and this removes all difficulties.
None of these terms are of course literally true, but they represent
the truth _to man_ in such a way that he can to some extent
understand it. For example, the phrase that God gained the victory
_by His own right hand_ clearly means that He gained it not with the
assistance of others, or with the help of weapons, but simply by His
own unaided inherent strength. It was such a victory as might _in a
man_ be described as gained by his own right hand. And the same may
be said of the passage, _The eyes of the Lord are over the
righteous, and His ears are open unto their prayers_, and many
others which occur in the Bible. The terms hands, eyes, and ears,
when applied to God, are thus human analogies, which must not be
taken literally.
And in one passage at least the word _day_ is used in a similar
sense; for we read "Hast thou eyes of flesh or seest thou as man
seeth? Are thy days as the days of man, or thy years as man's
days?"[11] Here it will be noticed _days_ and _years_ are applied to
God in precisely the same manner as _eyes_ and _seeing_.
[Footnote 11: Job 10. 4, 5.]
Moreover similar terms occur all through the present narrative. Even
the simple words _God said_ cannot be taken literally, for there was
no one to speak to. They must be meant in the sense that God
_thought_, or that God _willed_. And we have no more right to
suppose the days to be literal days than to suppose that God
literally spoke. What we are to suppose in the one case is that
God--the Almighty One, for whom nothing is too hard--created all
things in such a way as might _to man_ be best represented by a
simple word of command. And what we are to suppose in the other
case, is that God--the Eternal One, to whom a thousand years are but
as yesterday--created all things in such periods of time as might
_to man_ be best represented by six days. Vast as the universe was,
man was to regard it as being to God no more than a week's work to
himself. In short, the time of creation, however long in itself, was
utterly insignificant in its relation to God; to _Him_ each stage
was a mere day.
And this it may be added, is not a purely modern theory, made to
reconcile the narrative with science; for the Greek Jew, Philo, born
about B.C. 20, who knew nothing of geology, ridicules the idea of
the days of Genesis being literal, or representing any definite
periods of time.[12]
[Footnote 12: Works of Philo Judæus, First book of Allegories of the
Sacred Laws, Yonge's translation, 1854, vol. i., p. 52.]
(3.) _Its gradual development._
Next, it must be noticed that, according to Genesis, God did not
create a perfect world all at once, but slowly built it up step by
step. At first the earth was waste and void, and only after it had
passed through several stages did it become fully inhabited.
Moreover, at every step (with two exceptions, the firmament and
man, noticed later on), God examined the work and pronounced it
_good_. He seems thus to have discerned a beauty and excellence in
each stage; though it was not till the close of the whole work that
He was completely satisfied, and pronounced it all _very_ good.
And the narrative appears to be quite correct. For geology shows
that the formation of the earth, with its various inhabitants, was a
_gradual_ process, not accomplished all at once, but slowly step by
step, through successive ages. And it also shows that these ages
were of such magnitude and importance that we cannot regard them as
mere preparations for man's coming, but as having a beauty and
excellence of their own, so that they well deserved to be called
_good_. But we may ask, how did the writer of Genesis know all this?
And then as to the way in which this development was brought about.
According to Genesis, each stage was due to what we may call a
_Special Divine force_, represented by a word of command from God.
And this also seems correct, for we cannot otherwise account for the
first appearance of the various groups, such as plants, animals, and
men. It is not disputed that these various stages may have been
evolved from the previous ones, _e.g._, the living from the
not-living, which the narrative itself suggests in the words, _Let
the earth put forth grass_; and also at its close, when it speaks of
_the generations_ of the heaven and of the earth; which implies some
kind of organic descent, or evolution. Indeed the common expression
that God _made_, is probably used in the sense of _evolved_; since
the same word is employed in ver. II of fruit-trees _making_ fruit
(translated _bearing_ or _yielding_ fruit); yet we know they do not
_make_ fruit suddenly out of nothing, but slowly produce it.
What is disputed is, that this evolution took place merely under the
influence of natural development, and without the additional
influence of a new Divine force. And considering that all attempts
to effect a similar transition _now_ have failed completely, it is
not unreasonable to suppose that there was some other and special
Cause at work _then_. Nor is it easy to see how some of the changes
could have been otherwise produced. Take, for instance, this very
subject of the origin of life. As far as we know, the only natural
mode in which life can begin is from a living parent, yet there was
a time when there were no living parents on this earth. How, then,
could it have originated, except by some process other than natural,
_i.e._, supernatural? Or, again, to take another instance, when the
first _free being_, whether animal or man, appeared on this planet,
a force totally different from all natural forces was introduced,
and one which could not have been derived from them alone.
And then there is another, and very interesting point, to notice. It
is that according to Genesis, these steps were not all of equal
importance. For while it describes most of them by the word _made_,
which, as just said, seems to mean here _evolved_; on three
occasions, and only three, it uses the word _create_. These refer to
the origin of the _universe_, of _animal life_ (fishes and birds),
and of _man_. And this is very significant, when we remember that
these correspond to the beginning of _matter_, _mind_, and
_spirit_; and are therefore (as said in Chapter IV.) just the three
places where something altogether _new_ was introduced; which could
not, as far as we can see, have been evolved from anything else. And
this double method of producing, partly by _creating_, and partly by
_making_ or evolving, is again referred to at the close of the
narrative, where we read that God rested from all His work, which He
had _created and made_. So much for the general _principles_ of the
narrative, we pass on now to its detailed _order_.
(_B._) ITS DETAILED ORDER.
It will be remembered that in Genesis, after describing the earliest
state of the earth, there are eight stages in its development; two
of which occurred on the third, and two on the sixth, day. We have
thus altogether nine subjects to examine.
(1.) _The earliest state of the earth._
Now according to Genesis, the earth was at first _waste and void_
and in _darkness_, and apparently surrounded by _the waters_. And if
we adopt the usual nebula theory, and refer this to the first period
after it became a separate planet, and had cooled so as not to give
out any light itself, these statements seem quite correct. For we
know from geology that the earth was then waste and void as far as
any form of life was concerned, while it was probably surrounded by
a dense mass of clouds and vapours sufficient to produce darkness.
Genesis then starts from the right starting-point, but again we must
ask, how did the writer know this?
(2.) _Light._
The first step in the development of the earth was, we are told, the
introduction of _light_. That this is what Genesis means seems
plain, for the _light_ must refer to the _darkness_ of the previous
verse, and that referred to the _earth_. As to whether light
previously existed in other parts of the universe, Genesis says
nothing, it is only concerned with this earth. And in the
development of this earth, _light_ (which in nature always includes
_heat_) must obviously have come first. For on it depend the changes
in temperature, which lead to the formation of winds, clouds, and
rain; while it also supplies the physical power that is necessary
for the life of plants and animals; so in placing _light_ as the
first step, Genesis is certainly correct. Of course, the _source_ of
light at this early period was the remainder of the nebula from
which our planet was thrown off. It was thus spread over an immense
space, instead of being concentrated like that of our present sun;
and probably only reached the earth through a partial clearing of
the clouds just alluded to.
(3.) _The firmament._
The next step was separating the waters _above_ (_i.e._, these dense
clouds) from the waters _below_ which are stated to be the seas (v.
9-10) and forming between them a firmament or _expanse_ (see
margin), that is to say, the _air_. The idea that the writer thought
this expanse meant a solid plane holding up the waters above
(because it is perhaps derived from a word meaning firm or solid) is
scarcely tenable. For the firmament was called _heaven_, and the
upper waters, above this _heaven_, must mean the sources from which
the _rain_ usually comes, since it is called _rain from heaven_.[13]
And these sources are easily seen to be _clouds_; and no one could
have thought that a _solid_ firmament was between the clouds, and
the seas.
[Footnote 13: Deut. 11. 11.]
Moreover this same word _heaven_ (though used in various senses) is
translated _air_ later on in this very narrative when it speaks of
fowls of the _air_ (verses 26-28, 30). And it also occurs in other
passages, in some of which it cannot possibly mean anything but the
air, _e.g._, 'any winged fowl that flieth in the _heaven_,' and 'the
way of an eagle in the _air_,'[14] which is an additional reason for
thinking that it means the air here.
[Footnote 14: Deut. 4. 17; Prov. 30. 19.]
And the omission, before noticed, to say that God saw that the
firmament was _good_, is quite natural, if this means only the air,
_i.e._, the space between the clouds and the seas; just as an
artist, though he might examine his pictures to see that they were
_good_, would not examine the spaces between them. But it is
difficult to account for, if it means a _solid_ firmament, which
would seem to require God's approval like everything else.
On the other side, we have the expression about opening the
_windows_
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