the believer accounts by holding that this world is the work of a
Being possessed of infinite wisdom and power, and who therefore has
endowed all His creatures with those faculties which they needed, and
with no others; because to give useless faculties would be a violation
of God's attribute of wisdom. The student of natural science may take
another view. It is no part of his business to do so. His office is
to discover and tabulate the order of facts, of phenomena, and this
order he calls a natural law. Well and good. But teleology, the science
of ends, which gives the reason why a thing is what it is--teleology
belongs to the metaphysician. It is his business to inquire into causes
and effects. Still, as a matter of fact, scientific men do try their
hand at accounting for the present state of things, and they say,
perhaps, that there is a struggle, a competition in nature,[177] so
sharp and close that no creature can continue to exist save by the
vigorous exercise of all its necessary faculties, while all useless
qualities will be cast away as mere overweight and incumbrance. I
need no decision upon this point; the fact is all I want. I do not
want you to decide whether mind preceded matter, and consequently
that there is a God: or whether matter and mind came into existence
contemporaneously, in which case there is no room for the theory of
development, but abundant room for impossibilities, metaphysical and
actual; or, lastly, whether matter preceded mind, the latter being
simply the result of a high corporeal organisation, slowly attained to
by the processes of selection, natural and sexual. Whether this present
state of things was worked out intelligently, by a Being possessed of
will and understanding, or is the result of blind and unintelligent
powers, working fortuitously, this, to my argument, matters not. All
I want is the admitted fact--that every living organisation fully
possesses all those faculties which it needs, and must use all its
faculties under penalty, first of degradation, and, finally, in the
long run, of extinction.
But man is a living organization, and must, therefore, come under this
law. Let us see whether the fact confirms this deduction. Now, in all
the long line, from the ascidian upwards to man, nature had supplied
none but physical wants. Her children need food; she gives them each
those senses and that conformation which enables them to get each their
own food. They need safety: she uses much ingenuity in providing for
their safety. She is, moreover, liberal. Their food is, in general,
gained so easily, and their safety so well provided for, that their
lives are full of enjoyment. Her care, however, is taken in the main
for the species, and not for the individual. He enjoys his food because
nature has taken loving care for the whole family to which he belongs;
and she further takes care that that family shall continue to exist.
If it perish, it is because by some change in temperature, or the like,
the correspondence is destroyed between its faculties and its external
position. Short of this, the ingenuity employed by nature in providing
for the continued existence of every species of insect and animal is as
wonderful as that employed by her in continuing vegetable life; and,
as a rule, the lower the creature is in the scale of being, the more
curious the contrivances used for its preservation.
Well, when we come to man we find these three leading necessities
equally well provided for. Man is provided with the means for obtaining
food, for providing for his safety, and for propagating his species.
But, though nature's ends are the same, and reached with equal
certainty, her means are, in the main, different. The animals are moved
to gain their existence by their senses working upon their instincts.
This is a great advance upon vegetable life. You had there neither
senses nor instincts, but simply powers. But man rises above the
animals as much as they transcend vegetables. He attains to these same
ends of food, safety, and continued existence by the use of his reason.
Now, I wish you to notice this. Nature is not limited in her resources,
nor confined to one method. She is not obliged to plant animals in
the ground that they may suck up food through their legs; she can and
does give them instincts by which they can get their food in a very
different way. But perfect as these instincts are, nature can do still
better. She can produce an animal capable of reasoning upon causes and
effects, and who, therefore, provides for everything which he imagines
to be good for him by setting those causes in motion which produce the
desired effect.[24]
But with the possession of reason there also goes the possession of
what we call mental faculties. Not only can man by the use of his
reason obtain food, provide for his safety, and continue his race,
but higher ends are made possible for him, to be attained to by the
use of this higher endowment. Man has the power of articulate speech,
and upon this follows the power of learning to read, to write, and
to cypher; and upon the power of doing these three things follows
a plenitude of other powers. Now, I shall not stop to enquire how
man gained these powers, whether by natural and sexual selection or
not; but I venture to point out that there is a vast chasm between
physical and intellectual powers. The most sensible monkey is a parody
rather than an imitation of man, and the difference between the two
is enormous.[25] The points of agreement serve rather to enable us to
measure this interval, and see how wide it is, than to bridge it over.
Now, let us suppose ourselves philosophers come, we will say, from the
planet Jupiter, on a mission intrusted to us by the Jovians, to examine
and report upon the nature of the creatures which people the four
inferior planets, Terra, Venus, Mercury, and Mars. Of course, we should
look upon the inhabitants of such small communities with contempt,
but, being philosophers, we should not neglect anything because it was
trifling. Well, when we came to Terra we should report that it was a
very curious region, inhabited by a long scale of beings, each one
fitted to its place, and that at their head there was a rather noxious,
troublesome, and uppish creature called man, whose examination had
caused us an infinity of trouble.
In examining this creature we should find that it shared in all the
wants of those beneath him, but that it supplied its wants, not by
the use of instincts, but of reason. Over and above, however, man's
physical wants, we should find that he had mental wants; and with
these wants faculties also, by which he could supply them. Supply all
the physical wants of an animal, and having none besides, it will lie
still for hours or days until hunger stirs it to renewed exertion.
Supply all man's physical wants, and his mental wants then develop
into full activity. Give him the lowest and basest drudgery; make him
work morning, noon, and night in the meanest occupations, for the
supply of merely physical necessities, and, though you can infinitely
degrade, you cannot destroy his mental powers. He still thinks, still
connects causes and effects. But our purpose will be best answered by
taking the case of those whose faculties are most highly cultivated.
Has nature supplied a proper field for the exercise of the mental
powers, not merely of Fuegians, but of the most highly developed man?
You know that she has. Take the senses which he has in common with the
animals, but see what vast means have been provided by which he can
make an intellectual use of them. What arts and sciences, painting,
music, harmony, numbers, eloquence, have grown out of their use. As for
our mental powers, think only of the vast number of ologies which are
claiming admission into our very normal schools. Think only of all our
learned Associations, our Royal Societies, our Social Congresses, our
British Museums full of books, which have been written, and are waiting
only to be read, and you must own that men do use their mental powers,
and have means enough for a more ample use of them. Nature makes us
use our mental powers to some extent. She encourages us to use them
thoroughly and earnestly.
Use them we must. Man is placed in such a position that he must
study what passes round him. Man learns by experience. Instincts are
but slightly progressive. Unless brought into contact with man, the
animals learn little--perhaps nothing. I do not doubt but that those
huge monsters, whose remains we behold in geological museums, were the
most dull and stupid creatures possible. I think this simply because
I suppose that man did not then exist, and, therefore, that these
monsters had nothing to waken them up out of their sluggish torpor. But
scientific men[26] tell me that existing mammals actually have larger
brains than their ancient tertiary prototypes of the same order.
Let man enter the stage, and the instincts of animals are quickened.
Nature did not create man without taking care to guard the inferior
animals from his destructive powers. But man in himself, essentially,
is at once progressive and retrogressive. Bound up with him is an
infinite possibility of advance and decay. He is never stationary.
Both individuals and communities are perpetually either ascending or
descending in the scale, morally and intellectually. But this law of
nature obliges man to perpetual mental effort under the usual penalty
of degradation. We have not merely to advance, to win new ground. If
this were all, at length we should have nothing to do. We have to win
back lost ground. Our gains are, I hope, greater than our losses;
but the progress of no community will ever be fast enough, continued
enough, and assured enough, to justify the members of it in living in
a fool's paradise. This, then, was our second point. The first was,
that nature has provided us with a proper field for the exercise of our
mental faculties; the second, that she imposes upon us the necessity of
using them.
We may add, that the law of scientific progress also makes it certain
that no advance of science will ever deliver us from the necessity
of using our faculties. The valuable part of every science is its
theory--the mental part. Facts and fossils are of no value, except as
being the materials for thought. No geologist would care much for a
discovery of fossils in agreement with an established theory, but if
the theory were still debated, then every discovery that tended to
prove or disprove it, would be canvassed with intelligent interest.
The pure sciences can grow, I am well aware, only by additions. But
then they are simply instrumental. They are to the mixed sciences what
arithmetic is to the ordinary business of life. Logarithms, algebra,
the integral and differential calculuses, are simply easy ways of
doing difficult sums. It is a great thing, no doubt, for science to
perfect its instruments and processes, but scientific progress lies
in the mixed sciences themselves, and these are constantly undergoing
modification. The spectrum analysis is largely modifying the science
of astronomy. Deep sea dredging, and other fresh means of information,
have so modified geology, that no one holds now that similar strata are
necessarily of the same date. A vast cretaceous formation is probably
going on at this very day in the bed of the Atlantic. (Huxley, "Lay
Sermons," p. 206.) The law, then, of scientific progress is constant
modification; fresh facts are discovered, new theories started, old
theories revived, existing theories altered, recast, newly shaped.
Should a science become, practically, complete and perfect, scientific
men would care for it no longer. The manufacturer and merchant would
then seize upon it. In this way what was once a problem in the mind
of the student, becomes an article of use, comfort, and enjoyment in
our daily lives. Meanwhile, new sciences spring up, and old sciences
take new shape, and, as a matter of fact, so large has become the
scientific domain, that no one man can master it. Division of labour
has become as necessary here as in the manual crafts. We are no longer
encyclopædists, but each one must stick to his own page in the great
book of learning.
Many of these sciences relate to our social condition. And of these
the importance and value every day rapidly increases. Good government
largely depends upon knowledge of all those natural laws upon which
moral and physical well-being depends. Upon good government follow
increased wealth, active trade, higher wages, and larger consumption
of commodities. Upon these follows increased population, and that
population concentrated upon spots favourable for all this activity.
And upon this follow new social difficulties; fresh problems arise to
be solved, and new questions to occupy the mind both of the student
and of the statesman. Unless solved, society will retrograde; it
will suffer in health, in wealth, and morality; turbulence will take
the place of quiet industry; and that community will decay. Here
again nature provides a field for the employment of our faculties,
and compels us to use them. If not there is the same penalty,
degradation. I do not know how many geological periods it would take
before, by the neglect of our powers, we could retrograde back to our
ascidian progenitor; but I see everywhere around me the proofs that
retrogression is as much a law of man's nature as progress. We can only
continue what we are by using all our powers.[27]
But I may have lingered over this part of my subject too long. No one
perhaps will deny that man both can and must use his mental powers
as thoroughly as an animal must use its instincts, and a plant its
vegetative powers, or it will suffer for its neglect. Only remember
that my argument has nothing to do with individuals; I am treating of
man as a species, and investigating the general laws which regulate his
well being. Well, now, has man any other powers than those already
described? Has he merely physical powers to enable him to get food,
and other bodily necessaries; and mental powers to enable him to read,
write, and cypher? Is this all? You know that it is not all. There is
another broad distinction between man and all the other inhabitants of
this earth. He alone distinguishes between right and wrong.[28]
Now if man possesses this faculty, however acquired, and by whatever
name called, then if nature's laws are universal, he is both bound to
use it, will suffer from not using it, and will have a proper field
provided for its use. Nature gives no faculty without imposing an
obligation of exercising it: an obligation, however, which rests in its
full force upon the species, and upon the individual only as belonging
to the species. Some powers every individual must use or he would
die; there are other powers which, if he does not use, nature will be
content with a lighter penalty. Far be it from me to affirm that every
one here uses his reasoning powers. I hope he does; but if he does not
use them, I am quite sure that nature will exact of him the penalty of
stupidity. But the species must use them; if not, upon degradation
would soon follow extinction. Nature, for instance, would not let man
exist as a mere animal. If he did not use his reason, the instincts of
other animals are so superior to his, that while they found food he
would be unable to do so. Even if necessity quickened his instincts, he
would yet have ceased to be a man, and would be retrograding back to
the ascidian. To continue to be a man he must make some low use at all
events of his mental powers. Now, can you establish any such difference
between man's intellectual and moral powers, as will justify you, while
acknowledging that you must use the one, in neglecting the other? Can
you give any reason why you need not use the faculty which undoubtedly
you possess of distinguishing between right and wrong, and the faculty,
let us say, of "using the imagination in matters of science." I am sure
you cannot. By not using your mental powers you will be in an inferior
mental position; by not using your moral powers you will hold an
inferior moral position.
But you may say the penalty is slight, and we will pay it. We will
use our physical powers, and become grand animals and we will use our
mental powers, and become grand intellectual men. Not men I answer.
Add intellectuality to animality, and you merely get an intellectual
animal. Your moral powers are an essential part of yourselves.
Confessedly too, there is ample field for using them. The whole
world is so constituted that morning, noon, and night, the question
perpetually arises of right and wrong. You cannot take a step in
life without conscience intervening. It is so inseparably a part of
yourselves that constantly it acts as a mere instinct, and approves or
condemns your conduct as spontaneously as your palate distinguishes
between sweet and bitter. You may render your palate dull, so that you
cannot taste what you eat and drink; you may render your conscience
dull, but it has a strong recuperative force, and, after years of
dullness, will awaken, and exercise again its judicial functions with
stern and decisive energy. Struggle as much as you like, but the
conclusion cannot be evaded, that you can distinguish between right and
wrong, that you ought to do so, and that you must do so.
If so, what follows? I answer, the necessity of religion, and therefore
of revelation. Resist as men will and do, they have but a choice
between two alternatives. Either all this present state of things, in
which every faculty has its appropriate field of exercise, and every
external possibility has opposite to it an internal faculty; either
all this is an illusion and deceit, a purposeless and objectless piece
of jugglery;[29] or if it be a reality, then the existence in man
of faculties, obliging him to distinguish between right and wrong,
constitute him a _responsible_ agent. If he is responsible, he is
responsible to some one: and certain penalties are necessarily attached
to the neglect, the misuse, and the violation of his moral powers.
The person to whom man is responsible must be capable of forming an
equitable judgment, and therefore must know the motives as well as the
outward acts, and for this nothing less than omniscience will suffice.
He must have the power of apportioning adequate rewards and punishments
to human actions, which will need little less than omnipotence. And
as no adequate reward or punishment follows in this life, there must
be some other state in which men will be dealt with according to
their true deserts. If not, then there exists in man a whole class of
faculties, moral faculties, which seem to find in this present state of
things an appropriate field for their exercise, but which man is under
no necessity of using. A man who lives in the habitual violation of
every moral obligation, but does so with discretion, may have a very
large enjoyment of the things of this world: while generally a man
whose conscience is tender, and whose life is regulated by the highest
motives, necessarily and voluntarily abandons much, both of pleasure
and prosperity. Nature cannot have so bungled her work. The highest
possible exercise of the powers which she has given us must necessarily
lead to the highest possible good. It does not matter to the argument
whether conscience and your other moral faculties be natural or
acquired. If nature endowed an ascidian with the power of acquiring
moral faculties, it was bound to use them as soon as it had got them.
The question whether you are bound to use your mental faculties does
not depend in the least upon the question whether man is an improved
monkey. You are bound to use them simply because you have them. So you
are bound to live as a responsible being simply because you have the
faculty of distinguishing between right and wrong. You know, too, that
you act yourselves upon this principle. If any one were to push one of
you out of your seat and take it himself, not only would you be angry,
but our chairman would call in a policeman to expel the disturber, and
give you your seat back again. Why? Because the man would have been
doing wrong, and need not have done it; and because it was wrong you
are angry and punish him. But can you stop there? There are things
which we know to be wrong, but which hurt none but ourselves; things
we know to be wrong, but which benefit society. A man may liberally
support useful institutions from motives of ostentation, or as a bribe,
if he is a candidate, let us say, for a seat in parliament. An act may
be apparently right, but the inner motive wrong. Now, conscience judges
of things absolutely; it condemns or approves of things, not as they
seem, but as they really are: not by results, but by their intrinsic
character. What is there which answers to this outside of man? Must
there not be a judge who also judges men absolutely? You can find no
such judge but God. Either, then, nature is a sham, and her laws not
universal, and this present state of things a delusion, or there is a
universal judge, and a future state in which reward and punishment will
be meted out in strict accordance with the rightness and wrongness of
human action. A being omniscient and almighty can alone judge actions
absolutely in the same way as conscience judges us, both for our
thoughts, words, and deeds.
I have chiefly spoken of conscience, but the argument takes in all
man's moral and spiritual powers.[30] No man can doubt but that man
has within him powers which exactly answer to religion outside of
him. The power of faith is as much a faculty as that of sight; and so
also is that instinct, I had almost called it, which makes a man ever
turn away in discontent from the present to struggle for the future.
And what is more, man's moral and religious faculties develop with
advancing civilization just as his mental faculties do. The mental
questions which agitate our minds would be entirely void of interest
to a savage; the social difficulties which occupy the attention of our
political economists and statesmen would be mere trash to a peasant:
so, too, with religion. I do not see any reason why a race may not
sink so low as to lose the very idea of a God; but I am sure that such
a race would hold the very lowest place in the scale of humanity.
Whatever round in the ladder of human progress you like to examine, I
will make bold to say that you will find the religious and moral state
of mankind there holding a very close relation to the degree of mental
culture and civilization to which it has attained.
Now, the only thing that acts powerfully upon man's moral faculties
is religion. I do not say that this ought or ought not to be so; all
I assert is that it is so. Call, if you like, the great mass of your
fellow men Philistines, and despise their low culture, but you will
find nothing that acts powerfully upon these Philistines to give
them culture, to raise, refine, and purify them, except religion.
Conscience, too, holds a most direct and evident relation to religion.
You will not find conscience amenable to reasoning. When virtue
begins to reason, the proverb tells you it is lost. When conscience
condemns, it is because the thing condemned is a sin against God;
when it approves, it is because the thing done is absolutely right,
and as God commanded. Conscience never asks whether a thing is a sin
against society; it never troubles about consequences, knows nothing
about political economy, or political morality either. It judges by a
higher and absolute rule. By so doing it makes man a responsible agent
absolutely, brings him into direct relation with God as the absolute
judge, and renders necessary a more exact apportionment of rewards and
punishments than exists at present. There must be some other state of
existence in which man will be judged in the same way as now he judges
himself, and in which the natural effects of this judgment will be
fully carried out.