therefore this cause is uncreated and self-existent, and independent of
any other, the conclusion is next drawn that its power must be infinite.
This is shown by the consideration that there is no other antecedent
cause, and no other principle which was not created by the first cause,
and consequently which was not of inferior power; therefore, there is
nothing which can limit the power of the first cause; and there being no
limiter or restrainer, there can be no limitation or restriction.
Again, the infinity of the Deity’s power is attempted to be proved in
another way.
The number of possible things is infinite; but every possibility implies
a power to do the possible thing; and as one possible thing implies
a power to do it, an infinite number of possible things implies an
infinite power. Or as Descartes and his followers put it, we can have no
idea of anything that has not either an actual or a possible existence;
but we have an idea of a Being of infinite perfection; therefore,
he must actually exist; for otherwise there would be one perfection
wanting, and so he would not be infinite, which he either is actually
or possibly. It is needless to remark that this whole argument, whatever
may be said of the former one, is a pure fallacy, and a _petitio
principii_ throughout. The Cartesian form of it is the most glaringly
fallacious, and indeed exposes itself; for by that reasoning we might
prove the existence of a fiery dragon or any other phantom of the brain.
But even King’s more concealed sophism is equally absurd. What ground
is there for saying that the number of possible things is infinite? He
adds, “at least in power,” which means either nothing or only that we
have the power of conceiving an infinite number of possibilities. But
because we can conceive or fancy an infinity of possibilities, does it
follow that there actually exists this infinity? The whole argument is
unworthy of a moment’s consideration. The other is more plausible,
that restriction implies a restraining power. But even this is not
satisfactory when closely examined. For although the first cause must
be self-existent and of eternal duration, we only are driven by the
necessity of supposing a cause whereon all the argument rests, to
suppose one capable of causing all that actually exists; and, therefore,
to extend this inference and suppose that the cause is of infinite power
seems gratuitous. Nor is it necessary to suppose another power limiting
its efficacy, if we do not find it necessary to suppose its own
constitution and essence such as we term infinitely powerful. However,
after noticing this manifest defect in the fundamental part of the
argument, that which infers infinite power, let us for the present
assume the position to be proved either by these or by any other
reasons, and see if the structure raised upon it is such as can stand
the test of examination.
Thus, then, an infinitely powerful Being exists, and he was the creator
of the universe; but to incline him towards the creation there could be
no possible motive of happiness to himself, and he must, says King, have
either sought his own happiness or that of the universe which he made.
Therefore his own ideas must have been the communication of happiness to
the creature. He could only desire to exercise his attributes without,
or eternally to himself, which before creating other beings he could not
do. But this could only gratify his nature, which wants nothing, being
perfect in itself, by communicating his goodness and providing for the
happiness of other sentient beings created by him for this purpose.
Therefore, says King, “it manifestly follows that the world is as
well as it could be made by infinite power and goodness; for since the
exercise of the divine power and the communication of his goodness are
the ends, for which the world is formed, there is no doubt but God
has attained these ends.” And again, “If then anything inconvenient or
incommodious be now, or was from the beginning in it, that certainly
could not be hindered or removed even by infinite power, wisdom and
goodness.”
Now certainly no one can deny, that if God be infinitely powerful and
also infinitely good, it must follow that whatever looks like evil,
either is not really evil, or that it is such as infinite power could
not avoid. This is implied in the very terms of the hypothesis. It may
also be admitted that if the Deity’s only object in his dispensation be
the happiness of his creatures, the same conclusion follows even without
assuming his nature to be infinitely good; for we admit what, for the
purpose of the argument, is the same thing, namely, that there entered
no evil into his design in creating or maintaining the universe. But
all this really assumes the very thing to be proved. King gets over the
difficulty and reaches his conclusion by saying, “The Deity could
have only one of two objects--his own happiness or that of his
creatures.”--The skeptic makes answer, “He might have another object,
namely, the misery of his creatures;” and then the whole question is,
whether or not he had this other object; or, which is the same thing,
whether or not his nature is perfectly good. It must never be forgotten
that unless evil exists there is nothing to dispute about--the question
falls. The whole difficulty arises from the admission that evil exists,
or what we call evil, exists. From this we inquire whether or not the
author of it can be perfectly benevolent? or if he be, with what view he
has created it? This assumes him to be infinitely powerful, or at
least powerful enough to have prevented the evil; but indeed we are now
arguing with the Archbishop on the supposition that he has proved the
Deity to be of infinite power. The skeptic rests upon his dilemma, and
either alternative, limited power or limited goodness, satisfies him.
It is quite plain, therefore, that King has assumed the thing to be
proved in his first argument, or argument _a priori_. For he proceeds
upon the postulates that the Deity is infinitely good, and that he only
had human happiness in view when he made the world. Either supposition
would have served his purpose; and making either would have been taking
for granted the whole matter in dispute. But he has assumed both; and
it must be added, he has made his assumption of both as if he was only
laying down a single position. This part of the work is certainly more
slovenly than the rest. It is the third section of the first chapter.
It is certainly not from any reluctance to admit the existence of evil
that the learned author and his able commentator have been led into this
inconclusive course of reasoning. We shall nowhere find more striking
expositions of the state of things in this respect, nor more gloomy
descriptions of our condition, than in their celebrated work. “Whence
so many, inaccuracies,” says the Archbishop, “in the work of a most good
and powerful God? Whence that perpetual war between the very elements,
between animals, between men? Whence errors, miseries and vices, the
constant companions of human life from its infancy? Whence good to evil
men, evil to the good? If we behold anything irregular in the work
of men, if any machine serves not the end it was made for, if we find
something in it repugnant to itself or others, we attribute that to
the ignorance, impatience or malice of the workman. But since these
qualities have no place in God, how come they to have place in anything?
Or why does God suffer his works to be deformed by them?”--Chap. ii. s.
3. Bishop Law, in his admirable preface, still more cogently puts the
case: “When I inquire how I got into the world, and came to be what
I am, I am told that an absolutely perfect being produced me out of
nothing, and placed me here on purpose to communicate some part of his
happiness to me, and to make me in some manner like himself. This end is
not obtained--the direct contrary appears--I find myself surrounded with
nothing but perplexity, want and misery--by whose fault I know not--how
to better myself I cannot tell. What notions of good and goodness can
this afford me? What ideas of religion? What hopes of a future state?
For if God’s aim in producing me be entirely unknown, if it be either
his glory (as some will have it), which my present state is far from
advancing, nor mine own good, which the same is equally inconsistent
with, how know I what I have to do here, or indeed in what manner I must
endeavor to please him? Or why should I endeavor it at all? For if I
must be miserable in this world, what security have I that I shall not
be so in another too (if there be one), since if it were the will of
my Almighty Creator, I might (for aught I see) have been happy in
both.”--Pref. viii. The question thus is stated. The difficulty is
raised in its full and formidable magnitude by both these learned and
able men; that they have signally failed to lay it by the argument _a
priori_ is plain. Indeed, it seems wholly impossible ever to answer by
an argument _a priori_ any objection whatever which arises altogether
out of the facts made known to us by experience alone, and which are
therefore in the nature of contingent truths, resting upon contingent
evidence, while all demonstrations _a priori_ must necessarily proceed
upon mathematical truths. Let us now see if their labors have been more
successful in applying to the solution of the difficulty the reasoning
_a posteriori._
Archbishop King divides evil into three kinds--imperfection, natural
evil and moral evil--including under the last head all the physical
evils that arise from human actions, as well as the evils which consists
in the guilt of those actions.
The existence of imperfection is stated to be necessary, because
everything which is created and not self-existent must be imperfect;
consequently every work of the Deity, in other words, everything but
the Deity himself, must have imperfection in its nature. Nor is the
existence of some beings which are imperfect any interference with
the attributes of others. Nor the existence of beings with many
imperfections any interference with others having pre-eminence. The
goodness of the Deity therefore is not impugned by the existence of
various orders of created beings more or less approaching to perfection.
His creating none at all would have left the universe less admirable and
containing less happiness than it now does. Therefore, the act of mere
benevolence which called those various orders into existence is not
impeached in respect of goodness any more than of power by the variety
of the attributes possessed by the different beings created.
He now proceeds to grapple with the real difficulty of the question. And
it is truly astonishing to find this acute metaphysician begin with an
assumption which entirely begs that question. As imperfection, says he,
arises from created beings having been made out of nothing, so natural
evils arise “from all natural things having a relation to matter, and
on this account being necessarily subject to natural evil.” As long as
matter is subject to motion, it must be the subject of generation and
corruption. “These and all other natural evils,” says the author, “are
so necessarily connected with the material origin of things that they
cannot be separated from it, and thus the structure of the world either
ought not to have been formed at all, or these evils must have been
tolerated without any imputation on the divine power and goodness.”
Again, he says, “corruption could not be avoided without violence done
to the laws of motion and the nature of matter.” Again, “All manner
of inconveniences could not be avoided because of the imperfection of
matter and the nature of motion. That state of things were therefore
preferable which was attained with the fewest and the least
inconveniences.” Then follows a kind of menace, “And who but a very
rash, indiscreet person will affirm that God has not made choice of
this?”--when every one must perceive that the bare propounding of the
question concerning evil calls upon us to exercise this temerity and
commit this indiscretion.--Chap. iv. s. I, div. 7. He then goes into
more detail as to particular cases of natural evil; but all are handled
in the same way. Thus death is explained by saying that the bodies of
animals are a kind of vessels which contain fluids in motion, and being
broken, the fluids are spilt and the motions cease; “because by the
native imperfection of matter it is capable of dissolution, and the
spilling and stagnation must necessarily follow, and with it animal life
must cease.”--Chap. iv. s. 3. Disease is dealt with in like manner. “It
could not be avoided unless animals had been made of a quite different
frame and constitution.”--Chap. iv. s. 7. The whole reasoning is summed
up in the concluding section of this part, where the author somewhat
triumphantly says, “The difficult question then, whence comes evil? is
not unanswerable. For it arises from the very nature and
constitution of created beings, and could not be avoided without a
contradiction.”--Chap. iv. s. 9. To this the commentary of Bishop Law
adds (Note 4i), “that natural evil has been shown to be, in every case,
unavoidable, without introducing into the system a greater evil.”
It is certain that many persons, led away by the authority of a great
name, have been accustomed to regard this work as a text-book, and have
appealed to Archbishop King and his learned commentator as having solved
the question. So many men have referred to the _Principia_ as showing
the motions of the heavenly bodies, who never read, or indeed could
read, a page of that immortal work. But no man ever did open it who
could read it and find himself disappointed in any one particular;
the whole demonstration is perfect; not a link is wanting; nothing is
assumed. How different the case here! We open the work of the prelate
and find it from the first to last a chain of gratuitous assumptions,
and, of the main point, nothing whatever is either proved or explained.
Evil arises, he says, from the nature of matter. Who doubts it? But is
not the whole question why matter was created with such properties as
of necessity to produce evil? It was impossible, says he, to avoid it
consistently with the laws of motion and matter. Unquestionably; but
the whole dispute is upon those laws. If indeed the laws of nature, the
existing constitution of the material world, were assumed as necessary,
and as binding upon the Deity, how is it possible that any question ever
could have been raised? The Deity having the power to make those laws,
to endow matter with that constitution, and having also the power to
make different laws and to give matter another constitution, the whole
question is, how his choosing to create the present existing order of
things--the laws and the constitution which we find to prevail--can be
reconciled with perfect goodness. The whole argument of the Archbishop
assumes that matter and its laws are independent of the Deity; and the
only conclusion to which the inquiry leads us is that the Creator has
made a world with as little of evil in it as the nature of things,--that
is, as the laws of nature and matter--allowed him; which is nonsense,
if those laws were made by him, and leaves the question where it was, or
rather solves it by giving up the omnipotence of the Creator, if these
laws were binding upon him.
It must be added, however, that Dr. King and Dr. Law are not singular in
pursuing this most inconclusive course of reasoning.
Thus Dr. J. Clarke, in his treatise on natural evil, quoted by Bishop
Law (Note 32), shows how mischiefs arise from the laws of matter; and
says this could not be avoided “without altering those primary laws,
i. e., making it something else than what it is, or changing it into
another form; the result of which would only be to render it liable to
evils of another kind against which the same objections would equally
lie.” So Dr. J. Burnett, in his discourses on evil, at the Boyle Lecture
(vol. ii. P. 201), conceives that he explains death by saying that the
materials of which the body is composed “cannot last beyond seventy
years, or thereabouts, and it was originally intended that we should die
at that age.” Pain, too, he imagines is accounted for by observing that
we are endowed with feelings, and that if we could not feel pain,
so neither could we pleasure (p. 202). Again, he says that there are
certain qualities which “in the nature of things matter is incapable of”
(p. 207). And as if he really felt the pressure of this difficulty, he
at length comes to this conclusion, that life is a free gift, which we
had no right to exact, and which the Deity lay under no necessity to
grant, and therefore we must take it with the conditions annexed (p.
210); which is undeniably true, but is excluding the discussion and
not answering the question proposed. Nor must it be forgotten that
some reasoners deal strangely with the facts. Thus Derham, in his
_Physico-Theology_, explaining the use of poison in snakes, first
desires us to bear in mind that many venomous ones are of use
medicinally in stubborn diseases, which is not true, and if it were,
would prove nothing, unless the venom, not the flesh, were proved to be
medicinal; and then says, they are “scourges upon ungrateful and sinful
men;” adding the truly astounding absurdity, “that the nations which
know not God are the most annoyed with noxious reptiles and other
pernicious creatures.” (Book ix. c. I); which if it were true would
raise a double difficulty, by showing that one people was scourged
because another had neglected to preach the gospel among them. Dr. J.
Burnett, too, accounts for animals being suffered to be killed as food
for man, by affirming that they thereby gain all the care which man is
thus led to bestow upon them, and so are, on the whole, the better for
being eaten. (Boyle Lecture, II. 207). But the most singular error has
perhaps been fallen into by Dr. Sherlock, and the most, unhappy--which
yet Bishop Law has cited as a sufficient answer to the objection
respecting death: “It is a great instrument of government, and makes men
afraid of committing such villanies as the laws of their country have
made capital.” (Note 34). So that the greatest error in the criminal
legislation of all countries forms part of the divine providence, and
man has at length discovered, by the light of reason, the folly and
the wickedness of using an instrument expressly created by divine
Omniscience to be abused!
The remaining portion of King’s work, filling the second volume of
Bishop Law’s edition, is devoted to the explanation of Moral Evil; and
here the gratuitous assumption of the “nature of things,” and the “laws
of nature,” more or less pervade the whole as in the former parts of the
Inquiry.
The fundamental position of the whole is, that man having been endowed
with free will, his happiness consists in making due elections, or in
the right exercise of that free will. Five causes are then given of
undue elections, in which of course his misery consists as far as that
depends on himself; these causes are error, negligence, over-indulgence
of free choice, obstinacy or bad habit, and the importunity of natural
appetites; which last, it must in passing be remarked, belongs to the
head of physical evil, and cannot be assumed in this discussion without
begging the question. The great difficulty is then stated and grappled
with, namely, how to reconcile these undue elections with divine
goodness. The objector states that free will might exist without the
power of making undue elections, he being suffered to range, as it were,
only among lawful objects of choice. But the answer to this seems sound,
that such a will would only be free in name; it would be free to choose
among certain things, but would not be free-will. The objector again
urges, that either the choice is free and may fall upon evil objects,
against the goodness of God, or it is so restrained as only to fall on
good objects. Against freedom of the will King’s solution is, that
more evil would result from preventing these undue elections than from
suffering them, and so the Deity has only done the best he could in the
circumstances; a solution obviously liable to the same objection as that
respecting Natural Evil. There are three ways, says the Archbishop, in
which undue elections might have been prevented; not creating a free
agent--constant interference with his free-will--removing him to another
state where he would not be tempted to go astray in his choice. A fourth
mode may, however, be suggested--creating a free-agent without any
inclination to evil, or any temptation from external objects. When
our author disposes of the second method, by stating that it assumes a
constant miracle, as great in the moral as altering the course of the
planets hourly would be in the material universe, nothing can be more
sound or more satisfactory. But when he argues that our whole happiness
consists in a consciousness of freedom of election, and that we should
never know happiness were we restrained in any particular, it seems
wholly inconceivable how he should have omitted to consider the
prodigious comfort of a state in which we should be guaranteed against
any error or impropriety of choice; a state in which we should both
be unable to go astray and always feel conscious of that security. He,
however, begs the question most manifestly in dealing with the two other
methods stated, by which undue elections might have been precluded. “You
would have freedom,” says he, “without any inclination to sin; but
it may justly be doubted if this is possible _in the present state of
things_,” (chap. v. s. 5, sub. 2); and again, in answering the question
why God did not remove us into another state where no temptation could
seduce us, he says: “It is plain that _in the present state of things_
it is impossible for men to live without natural evils or the danger of
sinning.” (_Ib_.) Now the whole question arises upon the constitution of
the present state of things. If that is allowed to be inevitable, or is
taken as a datum in the discussion, there ceases to be any question at
all.
The doctrine of a chain of being is enlarged upon, and with much
felicity of illustration. But it only wraps up the difficulty in other
words, without solving it. For then the question becomes this--Why did
the Deity create such a chain as could not be filled up without misery?
It is, indeed, merely restating the fact of evil existing; for whether
we say there is suffering among sentient beings--or the universe
consists of beings more or less happy, more or less miserable--or there
exists a chain of beings varying in perfection and in felicity--it is
manifestly all one proposition. The remark of Bayle upon this view of
the subject is really not at all unsound, and is eminently ingenious:
“Would you defend a king who should confine all his subjects of a
certain age in dungeons, upon the ground that if he did not, many of the
cells he had built must remain empty?” The answer of Bishop Law to this
remark is by no means satisfactory. He says it assumes that more misery
than happiness exists. Now, in this view of the question, the balance is
quite immaterial. The existence of any evil at all raises the question
as much as the preponderance of evil over good, because the question
conceives a perfectly good Being, and asks how such a Being can have
permitted any evil at all. Upon this part of the subject both King
and Law have fallen into an error which recent discoveries place in a
singularly clear light. They say that the argument they are dealing with
would lead to leaving the earth to the brutes without human inhabitants.
But the recent discoveries in Fossil Osteology have proved that the
earth, for ages before the last 5,000 or 6,000 years, was left to the
lower animals; nay, that in a still earlier period of its existence no
animal life at all was maintained upon its surface. So that, in fact,
the foundation is removed of the _reductio ad absurdum_ attempted by the
learned prelates.