A CURIOUS litigation has just been decided at the Spalding County Court.
The Great Northern Railway was sued for damages by a farmer, who had
sent a quantity of potatoes to London shortly before Christmas, which
were not delivered for nearly ten days, and were then found to be
spoiled by the frost. The Company's defence was that a dense fog
prevailed during the Christmas week, and disorganised the traffic; that
everything was done to facilitate the transit of goods; and that, as
the fog was the act of God, there was no liability for damage by delay.
After an hour's deliberation, the jury returned a verdict for the
defendants, and judgment was given them with costs.
We sincerely pity that Lincolnshire farmer. It is very hard lines to
receive only thirteen and fourpence for four tons of potatoes; and
harder still to pay the whole of that sum, and a good deal more, for
attempting to obtain compensation. The poor man is absolutely without
a remedy. The person who delayed and rotted his potatoes is called
God, but no one knows where he resides, and it is impossible to serve
a summons upon him, even if a court of justice would grant one. God
appears to be the chartered libertine of this planet. He destroys what
he pleases, and no one is able to make him pay damages.
Christians may call this "blasphemous." But calling names is no
argument. Certainly it will not pay for that farmer's potatoes. We fail
to see where the blasphemy comes in. An English judge and jury have
accepted the Great Northern Railway Company's plea that the fog was the
act of God. We simply take our stand upon their verdict and judgment.
And we tell the Christians that if God sent the fog--as the judge and
jury allow--he has a great deal more to answer for than four tons of
rotted potatoes. That terrible fog cost London a gas bill amounting to
twenty or thirty thousand pounds. It is impossible to estimate the cost
to the community of delayed traffic and suspended business. Hundreds of
people were suffocated or otherwise slaughtered. Millions of people
were made peevish or brutally ill-tempered, and there was a frightful
increase of reckless profanity.
Many persons, doubtless, will say that God did _not_ send the fog. They
will assert that it came in the ordinary course of nature. But does
nature act independently of God? Is he only responsible for _some_ of
the things that happen? And who is responsible for the rest?
Those who still believe in the Devil may conveniently introduce him,
it is curious, however, that they never do, except in cases of _moral_
evil. Criminal indictments charge prisoners with acting wickedly
under the instigation of the Devil. But _physical_ evil is ascribed to
Jehovah. Bills of lading exonerate shipowners from liability if anything
happens to the cargo through "the act of God or the Queen's enemies."
Old Nick does not raise storms, stir up volcanoes, stimulate
earthquakes, blight crops, or spread pestilence. All those destructive
pastimes are affected by his rival. Even cases of sudden death, or death
from lightning are brought in by jurors as "died by the visitation of
God." Which seems to show that a visit from God is a certain calamity.
The time will come, of course, when all this nonsense about "the act of
God" will disappear. But it will only dissappear because real belief in
God is dying. While men are sincere Theists they cannot help seeing God
in the unexpected and the calamitous. That is how theology began, and
that is how it must continue while it has a spark of vitality. But
theology declines as knowledge increases. Our dread of the unknown
diminishes as we gain command over the forces of nature; that is, our
dread of the unknown diminishes as we turn it into the _known_.
"The act of God" is to be frustrated by Science. We cannot prevent
storms, but we are growing more able to foresee them. We cannot prevent
the angry waves from rising, but we can build ships to defy their
fiercest wrath. We cannot prevent mist from ascending in certain
conditions of sky and soil, but we can drain low-lying ground, and
prevent the mist from being fatally charged with smoke. We cannot
abolish the microbes with which our planet swarms, and if we could we
should be surrounded with intolerable putrifaction; but we can observe
the laws of public and private sanitation, maintain a high state of
vitality, and make ourselves practically invulnerable.
Science is the instrument for achieving the triumph of man. Ultimately
it will subdue the planet for us, and we shall be able to exclaim with
Mr. Swinburne, "Glory to man in the highest, for man is the master
of things." The paradise the theologians dream of will be realised on
earth. We shall not abolish death, but we shall make life strong, rich,
and glorious, and when death comes it will bring no terror, but rest and
peace in the shadow of its wings.
Meanwhile "the act of God" will to some extent survive in the mental
life of the multitude. All prayer is based upon this superstition. Those
who pray for relief or exemption from storm, famine, or disease; those
who pray to be preserved from "battle, murder, and sudden death"; those
who pray to be saved from any evil, are, all praying against "the act of
God." It is God who is sending the mischief, and therefore he is
begged to take it away or pass it on to other persons. Hamburg would be
grateful to God even if he transferred the cholera to Berlin. Thus do
ignorance and selfishness go hand in hand; thus does superstition cloud
the intellect and degrade the character.