CHAPTER VII. THE ALLEGATION THAT NO TESTIMONY CAN PROVE THE TRUTH OF A

SUPERNATURAL EVENT.

Hume’s position, which affirmed that it is impossible to prove the truth

of a supernatural event by any amount of testimony however strong, is

certainly one of the most plausible that have ever been assumed by

unbelief. Stated briefly and in his own words, it is as follows: “A

miracle is a violation of the laws of nature; and as a firm and

unalterable experience has established these laws, the proof against a

miracle from the nature of the fact is as entire as any argument from

experience can possibly be imagined.” Again: “No testimony is sufficient

to establish a miracle unless the testimony is of such a kind that its

falsehood would be more miraculous than the fact which it endeavours to

establish.” The fallacy of these positions, notwithstanding the plausible

arguments by which they are supported, has already been pointed out by a

multitude of writers. Mr. Mill himself has practically abandoned Hume’s

argument as either a harmless truism, or, in another point of view, one

that requires to be modified to such an extent as to deprive it of any

real cogency. Under ordinary circumstances, therefore, it might be passed

over in silence.

But the author of “Supernatural Religion” has endeavoured to rehabilitate

it even against Mr. Mill. He affirms that Christian “Apologists find it

much more convenient to evade the simple but effective arguments of Hume,

than to answer them; and where it is possible, they dismiss them with a

sneer, and hasten on to less dangerous ground.” He then endeavours to show

that Mr. Mill has been partly misapprehended, and is partly inaccurate;

and he proceeds to address himself to Paley’s argument against Hume, as

though it was relied on by modern apologists as entirely conclusive. No

other writer is even noticed by him. In the recent work of the late Mr.

Warington, “Can I believe in miracles?” one chapter is devoted to the calm

and dispassionate examination of Hume’s argument. It is perhaps the ablest

dissection of it in existence. Yet this writer, who charges Christian

apologists with evasion, and even with getting rid of its force by a

sneer, has left Mr. Warington’s crushing reply to Hume completely

unnoticed. The position taken by him renders a few general observations

necessary. As it will be useless to repeat arguments that have been fully

elaborated elsewhere, I shall content myself with briefly stating the

positions which have been firmly established on this subject.

First: Experience consists of two kinds; 1st, That which has fallen under

our own direct cognizance, which from the nature of the case must have

been very limited. 2dly, The general experience of all other men, as far

as we have the means of knowing it. This latter experience we become

acquainted with exclusively by testimony, and it rests entirely on its

validity. The two together constitute what we mean when we say that a

thing is, or is not, contrary to experience.

Secondly: There is a sense in which miracles are contrary to our

experience. They would be destitute of all evidential value, if they were

not so. But while this is freely admitted, we must lay down clearly in

what sense we use the words. They are not so, in the sense that we have

had direct evidence of their non‐occurrence. They are contrary to our

experience only in the sense that we have never witnessed them, and that

the order of events which we have witnessed is always different; for

instance, we have witnessed as a matter of experience that men die, and

that none return again to life; or that blind men, when cured, are never

cured by a word or a touch. In this sense alone it is that the

resurrection of a dead man, and the cure of a blind man by a touch, is

contrary to our experience.

Thirdly: It is not true that an occurrence which in this sense is contrary

to our experience cannot be believed on adequate testimony. If it were so,

all additions to our knowledge that lie beyond the limits of our past

experience, ought to be rejected. Every extraordinary occurrence must be

at once pronounced incredible.

Fourthly: The experience of one age differs from that of another. That

which lies outside the experience of one century becomes within the

experience of the next. The truth is that the sum of human experience is

receiving continual additions, in proportion as the sphere of observation

enlarges. If it is true that we ought to reject everything contrary to

experience, it follows that if many of the inventions of the present age

had been reported in a previous one, they ought to have been rejected as

incredible. For example: if a century ago it had been affirmed that a

message had actually been conveyed one thousand miles in five minutes, the

assertion ought on this principle to have been rejected as contrary to the

universal experience of mankind. In an earlier age, no miracle could have

been more difficult to believe. Yet although contrary to prior experience,

it has been established as a fact. The principle, therefore, as laid down

by Hume, leads to an absurd conclusion.

Fifthly: The experience of each individual is limited by his own

observation and what he has learned respecting that of others. This

constitutes as far as he is concerned the experience of mankind. Now,

under the Equator the experience of man is that each day and night is

twelve hours long. Neither he, nor his ancestors, nor any person whom he

trusts, have ever had any other experience than this. To him, therefore,

the affirmation that there is a place on the earth where each day and

night is six months long, is contrary to experience, and ought to be

rejected as a fable.

Sixthly: If we confine experience to scientific experience, extraordinary

discoveries are made and facts established in one age which are contrary

to that of a former one. On this principle, the ground on which Herodotus

rejected the story of the Phœnician navigators that they had sailed round

Africa was satisfactory. It was contrary to his experience that they

should have seen the sun in the position in which they affirmed that they

had seen it, though it is not contrary to ours.

Seventhly: Miracles viewed as mere _phenomena_ stand on exactly the same

ground as very unusual occurrences, or very wonderful discoveries. As far

as they are contrary to past experience, they are alike credible or

incredible. They are events of which the cause is unknown, but may or may

not hereafter be discovered. It is quite true that any extraordinary

phenomenon requires a stronger testimony to render it credible than an

ordinary occurrence. But this involves no question of abstract possibility

or impossibility, but is one purely of evidence, each case having to be

decided on its own merits. It must be carefully observed that when we

affirm that this or that matter lies within human knowledge, or is

contrary to it, experience has to do with phenomena alone. All questions

of causation lie entirely beyond its cognizance.

Eighthly: The moment we view an event otherwise than as a mere phenomenon,

and take into consideration the causes producing it, however unusual it

may be, it is impossible to affirm that it is contrary to experience. When

we take these into consideration the entire character of the event is at

once changed, and the probability of the occurrence must be estimated on

wholly different grounds. Under such circumstances, an extremely

improbable event, which we might otherwise justly reject as contrary to

experience, becomes simply one of which we have had no experience. Thus it

is contrary to experience that men can live for one hour under water, but

when we take into consideration and thoroughly understand the contrivance

of the diving‐bell, the event becomes one of a different order from that

of which we supposed that we had experience. Before this apparatus was

invented, the assertion that men could live an hour under water would have

been rejected as fabulous. The invention has introduced a fresh condition

into the case. The event has now become a portion of our experience; but

prior to the discovery of the apparatus it was merely an event lying

outside our experience, and not to be rejected as being contrary to it. In

a similar way, a miracle, as a mere phenomenon, may be said to be contrary

to our experience; but the moment that we take into account its true

character, viz. that its very conception implies the presence of a force

of some kind with which we were previously unacquainted, then such an

event is no longer one which we can pronounce contrary to our experience,

but merely one which lies beyond or outside it. In the case of miracles,

therefore, the position of Hume is inapplicable.

Ninthly: It is not true that in estimating the truth of testimony, we

simply balance probability, against probability, as stated in Hume’s

argument. The form in which it has been put by him is too abstract to

admit of application to individual cases; nor does any man, in estimating

the truth of testimony for practical purposes, set down and deliberately

balance probabilities against probabilities. The whole process is of a far

more instantaneous character, and a number of minute considerations are

involved, which do not admit of statement in the form of general

propositions. Thus, if an event lying outside my present experience is

reported to me by a friend on whose veracity and powers of judgment I have

implicit reliance, I accept the truth of his statement, notwithstanding a

great degree of abstract improbability; it being assumed that the event

was one in which it was impossible that he should be deceived. In

estimating this latter point, we never balance the probabilities as to the

truth or falsehood of human testimony, but we consider the individual

circumstances of the case, whether they are of such a nature that our

friend could be deceived about them. If on consideration we are convinced

that deception was impossible, we yield assent to his known veracity,

although, as far as we know, the event reported by him has never before

come within the range of human experience.

Let me remove the question from an abstract into a concrete form. There

are numberless events in which it happens that men of unquestionable

judgment and veracity are deceived. There are others in which no deception

can be possible. An instance of one class is the alleged case of persons

living a considerable time without food. Here astuteness may impose on the

vigilance of the most wary. Take, on the other hand, the case of a man

born blind. One informant, on whose veracity we have the fullest reliance,

tells us that he has known the man from his birth; that, up to a certain

day, his blindness was established beyond all reasonable doubt to every

one who knew him, that on that day, he saw a person touch the eyes of the

blind man, who not only instantly received his sight, but could use his

eyes as perfectly as those who had enjoyed the use of them from birth. I

admit that this case is a supposed one, and does not exactly represent any

case recorded in the Gospels. But though an assumed one, it is perfectly

valid for the purposes of argument. In it deception would be impossible.

If all this was affirmed to have come under the direct knowledge of one,

of whose veracity and judgment we were assured, we should accept his

statement as true, without balancing the abstract probability of the truth

of evidence against the probability of its falsity, although the event

narrated lay outside the range of our experience. Our knowledge of the

judgment and veracity of the informant is the essential element in judging

of the truth of evidence. It is only when our means of forming this

judgment are deficient that we attempt to balance abstract probabilities.

Tenthly: The question of the truth of testimony as against past experience

and the alleged greater probability that testimony should be false, than

that past experience should be unreliable, is greatly modified by the

consideration that an overwhelming amount of the sum total of past

experience rests for its acceptance on the validity of testimony itself.

That portion which is not the result of our own individual experience

rests for its truth exclusively on the validity of human testimony, and

must be unreliable in proportion as testimony is invalid. It must be

observed, however, that I by no means deny that testimony is much more

frequently invalid in its narrations of extraordinary events than of

ordinary ones.

Eleventhly: While it is freely conceded that the evidence to prove the

truth of a very extraordinary occurrence must be far stronger than that

which is required to prove an ordinary one, it must never be forgotten

that the amount of evidence necessary to prove any particular fact always

varies with the amount of the antecedent probability of its occurrence.

The very same action may be credible or otherwise, just in proportion as

we can discern an adequate purpose for its performance, or infer the

presence of a particular motive. If, for example, it were reported that a

man of the highest character had been seen during the hours of early

morning issuing from one of the lowest haunts of vice in London, those who

knew him well would require an overwhelming amount of evidence to

establish the truth of the assertion. They would undoubtedly fall back on

the question of abstract probability, and argue that it was more likely

that it was either a case of mistaken identity (a very common error), or a

deliberate falsehood, than that the statement should be true. But, if, on

the contrary, it could be shown that he had been sent for to visit a dying

person, and had gone at his particular request, the whole of the

antecedent improbability would vanish, and the otherwise incredible

testimony would become perfectly credible. It follows, therefore, that the

credibility of testimony varies with our knowledge of the motive for the

performance of the action.

This consideration ought to have due weight in considering the evidence of

miracles. Viewed as mere phenomena, their abstract improbability is great.

When they are viewed as deviations from the ordinary course of nature,

their improbability becomes still greater. But those who believe in the

existence of a personal God energizing in the universe at every moment,

and in every place, postulate the presence of a force fully adequate to

work them, for this is involved in the idea of God. But the question

arises, Will He? Until a well‐attested miracle has actually been

performed, the antecedent probability derived from our experience of the

order of nature is against the supposition that He will, and throws on the

reporter the necessity of giving a stronger proof than we require for an

ordinary fact. But in proportion as we can show that it is probable that

God will make a revelation, the antecedent improbability of a miracle is

diminished; and if it can be shown that it is very probable that He will

do so, it wholly disappears.

It will be readily admitted that such an argument can only have weight

with a believer in the existence of a God, who is the moral Governor of

the Universe. To him, however, it is of the utmost value, for on the

supposition in question, the probability of some higher manifestation of

the divine character than that displayed in the material universe does not

rest on theory, but on the facts of man and his condition. Looking at the

past history of the world, it is matter of fact that God has made higher

and higher manifestations of himself. So far it is antecedently probable

that He will continue to do so. His last manifestation has been in the

production of a being possessed of a moral nature, with powers capable of

immense elevation. It is also no theory, but a fact, that this moral being

now is, and ever has been within the historical periods in a state of

great imperfection. It is therefore highly probable that the Creator will

adopt means for elevating the moral being whom He has created, and that He

will effect this by acting, not on matter, but on mind. Contemplating the

actual state of man, the known law of the Creator’s previous action, and

the moral character of God, the antecedent probability that God will make

a further manifestation of himself is established quite independently of

the facts or assertions in the Bible.

Twelfthly: Whatever be the supposed antecedent improbability of an

occurrence, it is capable of being overcome by an amount of evidence which

can leave no reasonable doubt in a mind endowed with common sense.

Theoretical objections may be adduced against any evidence which can be

brought in proof of particular facts, but the ultimate appeal must be, not

to a multitude of abstract theories, but to the common sense of mankind.

Of this character is all historical evidence. It rests on the same

principles as those which guide us in the affairs of daily life. There is

a certain amount of evidence which leaves no doubt on the common sense of

mankind, although it may be open to many theoretical objections. Such

evidence is capable of proving a fact against a very high degree of

antecedent improbability. Mr. Mill may be considered as a witness whose

predilections were all in favour of unbelief. Yet his clear logical mind

has led him to state the case fairly as far as the _à priori_ probability

or improbability of miracles is concerned. His conclusions are adverse to

the position assumed by the author of “Supernatural Religion.” I will

briefly state the most important of Mr. Mill’s positions.

First. He points out that a miracle involves nothing contradictory to any

law of causation. He well remarks that to prove such a contradiction, it

is not only necessary that the cause should exist without producing the

effect, but that no contravening cause should be present. But the very

idea of a miracle presupposes an adequate contravening cause, _i.e._ God.

The possibility of a miracle therefore cannot be denied on the ground that

it does not presuppose the presence of a force adequate to produce it. Mr.

Mill states, “Of the adequacy of that cause, if present, there can be no

doubt, and the only antecedent improbability that can be objected to a

miracle, is the improbability that any such cause existed,” that is to

say, the whole controversy resolves itself into the question between

Pantheism and Atheism on the one hand, and Theism on the other.

Secondly. He observes: “All therefore that Hume has made out, and this he

must be considered to have made out, is, that (at least in the imperfect

state of our knowledge of natural agencies, which leaves it always

possible that some of the physical antecedents may have been hidden from

us) no evidence can prove a miracle to any one who did not previously

believe in the existence of a being or beings with supernatural power, or

who believes himself to have full proof that the character of the being

whom he recognises is inconsistent with his having seen fit to interfere

on the occasion in question. If we do not already believe in supernatural

agencies, no miracle can prove to us their existence. The miracle itself,

considered as an extraordinary fact, may be satisfactorily certified by

our senses, or by testimony; but nothing can ever prove that it is a

miracle: there is still another possible hypothesis, that of its being the

result of some unknown cause; and this possibility cannot be so completely

shut out, as to leave no alternative but that of admitting the existence

of a being superior to nature. Those, however, who already believe in such

a being have two hypotheses to choose from, a supernatural and an unknown

natural agency; and they have to judge which of the two is the most

probable in this particular case.”

It is impossible to deny that this is a correct statement of the question.

Hume’s position is a generalized statement, that no evidence can establish

the reality of a miracle, on the ground that our experience of the

uniformity of nature’s laws is so firm and unalterable, that no amount of

testimony can establish a fact in opposition to it; or as he elsewhere

puts it, “unless the testimony be of such a kind, that its falsehood would

be more miraculous than the fact which it endeavours to establish.” He

affirms this to be equally true on the principles of Atheism, Pantheism,

or Theism, for the only thing that he takes into account is the inadequacy

of the testimony, and not the inadequacy of the cause. Mr. Mill therefore

says correctly that all that this argument avails to prove is, that it is

impossible to prove a miracle, except to persons who are already convinced

that a being or beings exist who are possessed of supernatural powers, and

that it is in conformity with their character to work one. If this is the

only intelligible meaning of Hume’s position (and it is evident that it

is), it reduces his argument against miracles to a very harmless one. The

conception of a miracle as distinct from an unusual phenomenon implies

purpose. Purpose is only conceivable of a being possessed of personality

and will. To those therefore who either deny the existence of any such

being higher than man, or who affirm that we have no evidence of his

existence, it is impossible to prove a miracle _as a miracle_. The utmost

that could be done would be to prove that an event had taken place in

nature which in the present state of our knowledge could be assigned to no

known cause. In such a case the Pantheist and the Atheist have always the

alternative of believing that the event in question must be due to the

operation of some unknown force in nature, but which in the gradual

development of knowledge we may hereafter be able to detect. This is a

position that no defender of revelation worthy of the name can be anxious

to dispute. Let it further be observed that Mr. Mill does not deny, but

affirms, that the occurrence of an extraordinary event analogous to a

miracle viewed simply as a phenomenon, may be satisfactorily certified by

our senses or by testimony. To affirm the contrary would be simply absurd,

as involving the stereotyping of human thought, and making the wisdom of

our ancestors the only standard of truth. There was a time when the earth

was believed to be an extended plain. If at that time any one had asserted

that by continually sailing westward he had at last arrived at the place

from which he started, or, in other words, had circumnavigated the globe,

this affirmation ought to have been rejected, not only as founded on

testimony contrary to all previous experience, but as intrinsically

impossible. Yet if Hume’s dictum has any value as an argument against the

possibility of a miracle, it must affirm the impossibility of establishing

such an occurrence by any amount of evidence whatever. Mr. Mill’s mind was

far too logical not to perceive that such a position is altogether

untenable.

Mr. Mill, however, affirms that there is one ground on which the argument

might be tenable against a theist, not because the evidence is

insufficient to prove the occurrence of an extraordinary fact, as a mere

phenomenon, but because it could not prove it to be a miracle. It is not

only necessary, says he, in order to render this proof valid, that one

should believe in the existence of a supernatural being who is able to

bring about the occurrence, but also that “the character of this Being is

not inconsistent with his having seen fit to interfere on the occasion in

question.” Thus a man may be a believer in the existence of God, and yet

be persuaded that it was not consistent with his character to interfere

with the course of natural phenomena at all, or in such a manner as the

conception of a miracle pre‐supposes. To such a theist the utmost that

evidence could prove would be, that the extraordinary event had been

brought about by the action of an unknown force. Again, the same principle

acts, and acts reasonably, on the minds of multitudes of intelligent

Christians, who summarily reject a certain class of reported miracles

without inquiring into their evidence, on the ground that the working of

such miracles is inconsistent with their conceptions of the divine

character; that is to say, they think it more probable that the stories

should be untrue, than that God should work in the way in question. But to

give this argument any validity against the miracles wrought in

attestation of Christianity, it must be proved that it is inconsistent

with the divine character to make a revelation, or to introduce a

deviation from what is to us the ordinary mode of His working; or that the

miracles recorded in the Gospels are repugnant to the character of God.

Mr. Mill’s general position is therefore incontrovertible, that those who

believe in the existence of God “have two hypotheses to choose from, viz.

a supernatural, or an unknown natural agency;” and that they must judge

which of these two is the more probable; and that, in forming their

judgment, a most important consideration must be the character of God, and

the conformity of the supposed event to that character. This position

every intelligent Christian will readily accept.

Mr. Mill adds: “But with the knowledge which we now possess of the general

uniformity of the course of nature, religion, following in the wake of

science, has been compelled to acknowledge the government of the universe,

as being on the whole carried on by general laws, and not by special

interpositions. To whosoever holds this belief, there is a general

presumption against any supposition of divine agency, not operating

through general laws; or, in other words, there is an antecedent

improbability in every miracle, which in order to outweigh it, requires an

extraordinary strength of antecedent probability derived from the special

circumstances of the case.” These observations require consideration.

There is no doubt that the polytheistic religions postulated the existence

of a vast number of superhuman beings by whose agency and caprice many

natural occurrences were brought about. Such a belief indicates a very

imperfect conception of “order” in nature. But these supposed

interferences with it would by no means realize the notion of what we now

designate a miracle, the very idea of which implies an order in nature to

which the miracle forms an exception. If there is no order in nature,

there can be no miracle.

The Hebrew monotheism involved conceptions directly opposite to this. It

viewed the action of God as the foundation of all the forces in nature.

Whilst above and outside nature, He was everywhere present in nature. Its

forces were the expressions of the energy of His will. Its order (for the

Hebrew recognised a high order in nature) was the result of His good

pleasure, and due to His constant working. In the Old Testament the

commonest events in nature are no less ascribed to God than those which we

designate miraculous. A Hebrew never conceived of a miracle as a deviation

from the divine order, but as a consistent carrying out of a divine

purpose in the government of the world. A modern conception of theism

differs from this in supposing that there are certain forces in material

nature which, when once called into action, go on energizing without any

direct intervention of God. But when this conception comes to be minutely

analysed, if we believe in a God, it is impossible to conceive of force,

at least in its ultimate form, except as a direct expression of the divine

energy.

Science has so far modified religious thought on this subject, that while

it still continues to hold that the various forces in nature are modes of

the divine acting, it nevertheless believes that God does not deviate from

his predetermined course for the purpose of meeting what we are pleased to

call special contingencies. The divine action is, in fact, not altered to

meet man’s convenience, and His government is carried on as far as it lies

within our cognisance by the general forces of nature. God acts in nature

in conformity with a definite law, and from that He will not deviate,

whatever consequences man’s ignorance or disregard of his mode of action

may bring upon him. Mr. Mill observes that to any person holding this

belief, there is a general presumption against any supposition of divine

agency, not operating through general laws. That is to say, we have had a

constant experience of his acting through general laws; and no experience

of his acting otherwise. But the idea of a revelation introduces a factor

into the case, entirely different from anything of which we have had

previous experience. It forms part of a great purpose existing in the

divine mind, and is in its nature analogous to the first introduction of

life, or the first creation of a free moral agent. Respecting the laws by

which God regulates his creative acts, we are ignorant. Yet the theist

firmly believes in creative acts of some kind, and that they are regulated

by law. In this ignorance of God’s law of creation, it is impossible to

affirm that it is antecedently improbable that in making a fresh

manifestation of himself, he will operate only through those general laws,

which are the ordinary manifestations of his will.

There is some want of clearness in Mr. Mill’s expression, that in order to

outweigh the antecedent improbability of miracles, arising from those

modes of the divine action which fall within the limits of our experience,

an extraordinary strength of antecedent probability, derived from the

special circumstances of the case, is required. If by this antecedent

probability he means something such as has been above referred to, there

can be no objection to his statement. He ought to have observed, however,

that the antecedent improbability which may be supposed to belong to

miracles, only attaches to them while contemplated as phenomena, and that

such an improbability readily yields to positive evidence. This is

virtually admitted in a subsequent sentence. “According as this

circumstance, viz. the unknown cause, not having previously manifested

itself in action, or the falsity of the testimony, appears more

improbable; that is, conflicts with an approximate generalization of a

higher order, we believe the testimony or disbelieve it with a stronger or

weaker degree of conviction, according to the preponderance, at least

until we have sifted the matter further.” “This,” says the author of

“Supernatural Religion,” “is precisely Hume’s argument, weakened by the

introduction of reservations which have no cogency.” We say, this is

precisely what Hume’s argument is _not_, for, if it be valid, the whole

question of miracles may be summarily dismissed without any inquiry into

the evidence on which they rest.

Still, however, as the author affirms and endeavours to prove that Mr.

Mill’s position leave Hume’s argument untouched, a few further

observations will be necessary. Hume’s statement is, “A miracle is a

violation of the laws of nature, and as a firm and unalterable experience

has established these laws, the proof against a miracle from the nature of

the fact, is as entire as any argument from experience which can possibly

be imagined.”

I reply, that the conception of a miracle does not involve any necessary

violation of the laws of nature. All that it implies is the presence of

another force different from those which have come under our cognisance:

and this may act so as to produce the miracle without violating one of

nature’s laws. But, it is added, “uniform and unalterable experience has

established these laws.” What has this experience really established? It

is this, and this only, Given the presence of certain forces, _and no

others_, certain results invariably follow. But experience cannot tell us

anything, as to what would be the law of nature, if some other force were

in action; nor is it able to say one word as to the non‐existence of any

force which has not come under its observation. Abstractedly, it is true

that the argument against a miracle is as entire as any argument from

experience can be imagined, because experience really supplies us with no

basis for argumentation in the case. Prior to the invention of railways

and the discovery of the uses to which steam can be applied, the argument

from experience was equally valid against the possibility of travelling in

a carriage not propelled by animal force. In each case a new force enters

into the conditions, of which experience is unable to take cognisance.

“Why is it more probable that all men must die?” asks this writer, “or

that lead cannot of itself remain suspended in the air; or that fire

consumes wood, and is extinguished by water, unless it be that these

events are found agreeable to nature, and there is required a violation of

its laws, or in other words, a miracle, to prevent them?” I answer that it

is probable that all men must die, because we observe under the action of

the known forces of nature that all men do die. But this says nothing as

to what must take place if another force was present; or a combination of

existing forces was discovered sufficiently potent to counteract the

action of those which in the present state of things bring about the

dissolution of man’s frame. There is no necessity, for the purpose of

effecting this, that one of the existing forces should be suspended. The

time was, when certain forms of disease invariably resulted in death. The

advance of medical science has averted this result. Ought the discovery to

have been rejected because it pretended to produce a fact contrary to

prior experience? Are any of the laws of nature violated, or are its

forces suspended in such a case? What has taken place? Man has discovered

agencies which have neutralized the effect of other agencies. Our belief

that all men must die rests on the assumption that no force can or will at

any future time be brought into action which will counteract the forces

now in operation by which that event is produced.

The same remark applies to the other three cases. To the second of them

the author has himself supplied the answer: “Lead cannot of itself remain

suspended in the air.” Doubtless, it cannot _of itself_. Who ever supposed

that it could? But it can be suspended when a force adequate to counteract

that of gravitation is present. So fire will always consume wood, or be

extinguished by water, as long as no other forces but the usual ones are

in operation. But man has already invented the means of producing

combustion under water. No violation of nature’s laws is required in any

of these cases. Nor is there any required in a miracle. The fact is, that

there is an assumption in all arguments of this kind, which for obvious

reasons is not openly avowed, but which alone imparts to them an apparent

validity. “No such force can exist,” which translated into other language

is identical with the proposition, “There is no God.” To keep this

assumption in the background, when the very basis of the argument for

miracles is the assumption that there is one, is a course which can lead

to no good result.

But the author remarks further: “There must, therefore, be a uniform

experience against every miraculous event, otherwise the event could not

merit that appellation. And as a uniform experience amounts to a proof,

there is hence a direct and full proof from the nature of the fact,

against the existence of any miracle; nor can such a proof be destroyed,

or the miracle rendered credible, by any opposite proof which is

superior.”

Here again we encounter the same faults of reasoning, which amount to a

virtual assumption of the point at issue. “There must be a uniform

experience against any miraculous event, otherwise it would not merit the

appellation—doubtless.” But what is the nature of this uniform experience?

Exactly this, that the ordinary forces acting around us being present, and

none other, the event has not, and therefore cannot take place. But this

is not involved in the idea of a miracle. It assumes the presence of

another force, viz. God. But what then? The objector will urge that we

have had no experience of the existence of any such force. Is it to be

urged, that no force can exist, except those of which we have had

experience, or any combination of forces now in action, different from the

present? The men of a former century were equally entitled to make the

same assumption. If they had done so, it would follow, that if the

discoverers of America had found our present railway system in full

operation, and reported it to be so, the contemporaries of Columbus would

have been justified in treating him as an impostor.

But the author further observes: “Mr. Mill qualifies his admission

respecting the effect of the alleged counteracting cause, by the all

important words ‘_if present_;’ for in order to be valid, the reality of

the alleged counteracting cause must be established, which is impossible;

therefore the objection falls to the ground. No one knows better than Mr.

Mill, that the assertion of a personal deity working miracles, upon which

a miracle is allowed for a moment to come into court, cannot be proved;

and therefore, that it cannot stand in opposition to a complete induction

which Hume takes as his standard.”

This passage strikes us as an extraordinary one to have been written by

any one who possesses the logical powers of the author. We are dealing

with a formal argument with a view of testing its validity, we have the

fullest right to test it by a supposed case. That supposed case is the

presence of an unknown cause, or an unknown combination of known causes,

or the presence of a personal deity. If the argument breaks down under the

application of these tests, it is worthless. Does the author mean to say,

that it is necessary to prove every assumption to be a fact, before it can

be used in argument? How about the assumptions in Euclid? I submit that

the reasoning is by no means vitiated by the assumption, and consequently

that by the application of the same principles of reasoning, Hume’s

argument falls to pieces. In one sense the words “if present” are all

important, yet it is not necessary to prove the fact in order to establish

the validity of the reasoning, which is entirely independent of the truth

of the assumption. Has the author never heard of contingent reasoning in

which both antecedent and consequent may be false, but the proposition

valid?

“No one knows,” again says the author, “better than Mr. Mill, that the

allegation of a personal God working miracles, upon which a miracle is for

a moment allowed to come into court, cannot be proved.” It seems then

after all that we are reasoning with a person who rejects theism; although

he has been dealing with the question on principles which assume its

truth. In arguing a question of this kind it is necessary to be

consistent, and take our stand either on the principles of theism, or on

those of pantheism or atheism, and not to fall back on either as the

exigencies of the case demand. Least of all should this be done by a

writer who charges the defenders of Christianity with shifting their

ground to suit the necessities of their argument.

But is the case correctly stated? No doubt that the conception of a

personal God is essential to it. But that of a personal God actually

working miracles forms no portion of it. If this were assumed, the entire

reasoning would be a _petitio principii_. We are considering whether

miracles are possible; or if, supposing one to be wrought, it can be

established by evidence. All that we assume is, that God _can_ work

miracles, not that He has wrought them. Whether we can prove by good

evidence that He has wrought miracles, is quite independent of the present

question.

“No one knows better than Mr. Mill, that the assertion of a personal deity

working miracles cannot be proved.” It is perfectly true that Mr. Mill

believed that the evidence adduced to prove the being of a personal God

was insufficient, and that respecting the origin of all things, nothing

can be known. But yet it is impossible to treat the existence of a

personal God as a bare assumption. “It is impossible to be proved,” says

the author. But to whom? To minds constituted like Mr. Mill’s. The

evidence that a personal God exists has appeared irresistible to an

overwhelming majority of mankind, including a great majority of minds

gifted with equal, and even with greater powers than that of Mr. Mill. One

might imagine from the mode in which this point is here represented, that

the belief in the existence of a personal God was exploded among all men

of intellect, and that the proofs adduced for it were unworthy of

attention. Surely the question of miracles has a legitimate place in the

court which tries the issue of their truth or falsehood.

One more point requires notice. Hume says, “Though the being, to whom the

miracle is attributed be in this case Almighty, it does not on that

account become a whit more probable, since it is impossible for us to know

the attributes or actions of such a being, otherwise than from the

experience which we have of his productions in the usual course of

nature.”

This position involves an evident fallacy. It is also one which underlies

one or two of the statements of Mr. Mill, whose philosophical theory of

necessity was one almost certain to involve him in it. The statement is,

that it is impossible to know either the attributes or the actions of such

a being, except from our experience of his productions in the course of

nature. What is the course of nature here intended? does it include mind

as well as matter? If the former is included, and we attain our knowledge

of God from that source—and every theist maintains that our chief

knowledge of God is derived from it—then the experience we have of man

leads us to infer the presence of certain moral attributes in God; and

there is nothing in that experience which renders the performance of a

miracle inconceivable or impossible—but as far as that experience is

concerned, it is rendered antecedently probable. What is included, I again

ask, in nature? Are _we_, the percipient beings ourselves? Whether we are

regarded as included or excluded from nature, it is evident that a

considerable portion of our knowledge of the divine character is derived

from the contemplation of our own being. God is more manifested in our

rationality, “personality,” freedom, and conscience, than in the material

forces and laws of nature. To perform a miracle therefore is consistent

with what we know of His character.

These observations will render it unnecessary for me to examine in detail

the writer’s observations on Paley’s arguments against Hume. Even if his

arguments are not perfectly conclusive, their failure does not establish

the truth of Hume’s positions, or invalidate the refutation of them by

others. As the object of this author is to re‐establish the validity of

Hume’s argument, he ought not to have confined himself to Paley, whose

mind was little adapted to the investigation of purely logical or

metaphysical questions, but to have noticed the argument of the numerous

subsequent writers who have more fully handled the subject.

The Supernatural in the New Testament, Possible, Credible, and Historical Or, An Examination of the Validity of Some Recent Objections Against Christianity as a Divine Revelation · 第 7 / 22 章