The ascending half is divided into two moieties, of which one is the

science of Physics, the other of Metaphysics. In distinguishing these

two, Bacon so far agrees with antiquity as to say,--"That Physic

supposes in nature only a being and moving and natural necessity;

whereas Metaphysic supposes also a Mind and Idea. For that which I

shall say comes perhaps to this."[52] Or, to put it in another light,

he writes elsewhere:--"Physique, taking it according to the derivation,

and not according to our idiom for medicine, is situate in a middle

term or distance between natural history and Metaphysique. For natural

history describeth the variety of things; Physique, the causes, but

variable or respective causes; and Metaphysique, the fixed and constant

causes."[53]

In order to clear the way for _his_ Metaphysic of the future, Bacon

subjects what had been called by that name to a critical process. He

separates from it a kind of theoretical philosophy, the attainment

of which he considered doubtful, though he desired that it should be

attempted, as the ultimate goal of human wisdom. The object of the

separation is, therefore, to leave his metaphysical science within the

limits of what is certainly attainable,--a fact not to be lost sight of

in its relation to the abstract subjects in which we are now specially

interested. The separated realm of knowledge Bacon calls "First and

Summary Philosophy"; it is a "common ancestor to all knowledge,"[54]

whereas Metaphysic belongs to the philosophy of Nature. It is at the

apex of his pyramid of knowledges,[55]--the basis being a collection of

natural facts--the "stage next the basis," (an investigation of causes

variable and immersed in material existence,) is called "Physique--the

stage next the vertical point is Metaphysique."[56] To enter clearly

into Bacon's meaning, two questions should be answered: one, what was

the wisdom that older Metaphysicians pursued, respecting which he did

not himself feel sanguine? and the other, what remained in his thought

the province of practical Metaphysique?

It is obvious that a wisdom which shall gather up all that every other

realm of wisdom produces, cast it into Thought's winepress, and extract

the rarest vintage of Truth, has been the vision of every age since men

began to inquire and to reason. If this wisdom were possible, it would

become to us an alphabet of the Universe; we should obtain a clear

insight into the world as it is, and the foregone work of its Creator.

Each of us might truthfully say:--

"Der du die Welt umschweifst,

Geschäftiger Geist, wie nah' fühl ich mich dir!"

It needs but a glance at Bacon's indefinite outline of a First and

Summary Philosophy,[57] to see that it must always be greeted by two

opposite sentences of condemnation. A large section of its censors

will pronounce the meagreness of its contents "a gentle riddance,"

or perhaps describe the contents themselves still more harshly as

"rubbish shot here." Another section may compare all that it leaves

for Metaphysics to the year without its spring, or Shakespeare's

masterpiece of philosophy with the part of Hamlet left out.

Let us see then how the reserved province was parcelled out.--Bacon

himself remarks:--"It may fairly therefore now be asked, what is left

remaining for Metaphysic? Certainly nothing beyond nature; but of

nature itself much the most excellent part." Most excellent because

"Physic handles that which is most inherent in matter and therefore

transitory, and Metaphysic that which is more abstracted and fixed.

And again, that Physic supposes in nature only a being and moving

and natural necessity: whereas Metaphysic supposes also a mind and

idea."[58]

This search into the Mind of Nature is divided into the investigation

of _two_ kinds of causes, still called the Formal and the Final.

Bacon's doctrine of Forms--the Philosophy in which is embraced "Natura

naturans"--nature engendering nature--the Queen of Art--and the Regent

of Production, constitutes one of the most difficult parts of the

Novum Organum, the Advancement, and the De Augmentis; and may have

been one chief provocative to King James' irreverent similitude. It

might, according to some writers, even now prove a veritable "peace

of God" could we only grasp its full meaning. "From the discovery

of Forms," says Bacon, "results truth in speculation and freedom in

operation."[59] And his latest commentator believes that this field of

discovery has not been truly explored, because its very idea has been

only imperfectly apprehended. The whole question, however, belongs to

a future Chapter of this Essay, where we propose examining the Law of

Production in its most refined and abstract shape. Yet one further

remark may be allowed here. According to Francis Bacon, one "respect

which ennobles this part of Metaphysic, is that it enfranchises the

power of men to the greatest liberty, and leads it to the widest and

most extensive field of operation.... For physical causes give light

and direction to new inventions in similar matter. But whosoever knows

any Form, knows also the utmost possibility of superinducing that

nature upon every variety of matter, and so is less restrained and tied

in operation, either to the basis of the matter or to the condition of

the efficient."[60]

We are more concerned, at the present stage of this Essay, with

the _second_ portion of Bacon's Metaphysique--the Inquiry into

Final Causes. They are described in the Advancement as not having

been neglected before its great Author's time, but as having been

"misplaced." "For they are," he writes in the De Augm. (E. & S. iv.

p. 363) "generally sought for in Physic, and not in Metaphysic. And

yet if it were but a fault in order I should not think so much of it;

for order is matter of illustration, but pertains not to the substance

of sciences. But this misplacing has caused a notable deficience, and

been a great misfortune to Philosophy. For the handling of final causes

in Physics has driven away and overthrown the diligent inquiry of

physical causes."... "And I say this, not because those final causes

are not true and worthy to be inquired in metaphysical speculations;

but because their excursions and irruptions into the limits of physical

causes has bred a waste and solitude in that track. For otherwise, if

they be but kept within their proper bounds, men are extremely deceived

if they think there is any enmity or repugnancy at all between the

two." (Ibid. p. 364.) Bacon's meaning is indeed clear enough to those

who consider his examples. We do not learn how clouds are produced by

being told they serve for watering the earth. It is no history of our

earth itself, to say that its "solidness is for the station and mansion

of living creatures." "To know the actual nature of a thing," observes

an Oxford commentator on the Organum, "we must investigate it in and

for itself, not for its results."[61]

Perhaps one of the most curious facts relating to the "misplacement"

of Final Causes is that few more flagrant instances of that abuse can

be found than some which occur in the field, not of physical but of

moral science. The following remarkable example is from an argument

framed by Mr. James Mill against Sir J. Macintosh, which appears all

the more worthy of quotation, because it is reproduced and approved by

Mr. J. Stuart Mill. The whole argument deserves perusal as showing how

easily an acquired and customary kind of association will sometimes

predominate over free thought; but for our present object a few

passages will suffice. The italics are not Mr. Mill's, but are here

marked for the purpose of guiding the reader's eye to those steps

which lead from _final cause_ (or motive) to _interest_, from interest

to Utility in its grossest form, the artificial creation, namely,

of our spur to interested action, dignified by this author with the

sacred name of Morality, both in essence, _i.e._, what makes an act

to be moral--and in respect of our moral sense, _i.e._, what are the

sentiments with which we regard our own actions and those of other

persons.

"Men make classifications, as they do everything else, for some end.

Now, for what _end_ was it that men, out of their innumerable acts,

selected a class, to which they gave the name of moral, and another

class, to which they gave the name of immoral? What was the motive of

this act? What its final cause?

"Assuredly the answer to this question is the first step, though

Sir James saw it not, towards the solution of his two questions,

comprehending the _whole_ of ethical science; first, what _makes_ an

act to be _moral?_ and, secondly, what are the _sentiments_ with which

we _regard_ it?

"We may also be assured, that it was some very obvious _interest_ which

recommended this classification; for it was performed, in a certain

rough way, in the _very rudest_ states of society.

"Farther, we may easily see how, even in very rude states, men were led

to it, by little less than necessity.... They had no stronger interest

than to obtain the repetition of the one sort, and to prevent the

repetition of the other.... And here we clearly perceive the origin of

that important case of classification, the classification of acts as

_moral_ and _immoral_. The acts, which it was _important_ to other men

that each individual should _perform_, but in which the individual had

not a sufficient _interest_ to secure the performance of them, were

constituted one class. The acts, which it was _important_ to other men

that each individual should _abstain from_, but in regard to which

he had not a personal _interest_ sufficiently strong to secure his

abstaining from them, were constituted another class. The first class

were distinguished by the name _moral_ acts; the second by the name

_immoral_.

"The _interest_ which men had in securing the performance of the one

set of acts, the non-performance of the other, led them by a sort of

necessity to think of the _means_. They had to _create_ an interest,

which the actor would not otherwise have, in the performance of the

one sort, the non-performance of the other. And in proceeding to

this end, they could not easily miss their way. They had two powers

applicable to the purpose. They had a certain quantity of good at

their disposal, and they had a certain quantity of evil.... And this

is the scheme which they adopted; and which, in every situation, they

have invariably pursued. _The whole business of the moral sentiments_,

moral approbation, and disapprobation, has this for its _object_,--the

distribution of the good and evil we have at command, for the

_production_ of acts of the _useful_ sort, the _prevention_ of acts of

the _contrary_ sort. Can there be a nobler _object_?"[62]

Some people may think that all nobleness is here taken away from moral

distinctions. Others may wonder how such refined calculation could

take place "in the very rudest states of Society." Many more will feel

that _this_ factitious interest is _not_ the moral sentiment of which

they are themselves conscious. We defer these points, however, to a

future chapter, and are satisfied now with calling attention to the

"misplacement" of final causes. To any modern versed (as Bacon was)

in the wisdom of the mediæval schools, the following parallel might

appear complete. Ask two questions--what are clouds?--what are moral

distinctions?--let a "why" be substituted for the "what." Both are

classified by men, both may be defined by their subserviency to _human

interests_,--it is sufficient to discover some use in each. Moral

distinctions exist for the benefit of society, clouds are for watering

the earth. An earth-watering contrivance describes not only one use but

the whole nature of a cloud; and for morality can a nobler definition

be found than that of a notion invented and named on Utilitarian

principles and promoting a public interest?[63] Doubtless morality

does benefit mankind--doubtless clouds do water the earth. But in

either case is the good effect its full and comprehensive "why?"--to

say nothing of the desiderated "what?"

Francis Bacon (as we have seen) strongly affirmed that between Physical

Causes and Final Causes "kept within their proper bounds, men are

extremely deceived if they think there is any enmity or repugnancy

at all." The manner in which, according to the Baconian doctrine,

these two sets of causes harmonize and supplement each other, so as

conjointly to subserve the highest purpose of Natural Theology, cannot

be better explained than in the words of Bacon's late lamented Editor,

Mr. R. Leslie Ellis:--

"It is not sufficiently remarked that final causes have often been

spoken of without any reference to a benevolent intention. When it is

said that the final cause of a stone's falling is 'locus deorsum,'

the remark is at least but remotely connected with the doctrine of an

intelligent providence. We are to remember that Bacon has expressly

censured Aristotle for having made use of final causes without

referring to the fountain from which they flow, namely the providence

of the Creator. And in this censure he has found many to concur.

"Again, in any case in which the benevolent intention can be perceived,

we are at liberty to ask by what means and according to what laws

this benevolent intention is manifested and made efficient. If this

question is not to be asked, there is in the first place an end of

physical science, so far as relates to every case in which a benevolent

intention has been or can be recognised; and in the second, the

argument à posteriori founded on the contrivance displayed in the works

of creation is entirely taken away.

"This is, in effect, what Bacon says in the passage of the _De

Augmentis_, in which he complains of the abuse of final causes. If,

he affirms, the physical cause of any phenomenon can be assigned as

well as the final, so far is this from derogating from our idea of

the divine wisdom, that on the contrary it does but confirm and exalt

it."[64]

Before passing from this subject the reader's attention may be drawn

to two notes by the same eminent commentator. Bacon remarks (Nov.

Org. I. 48) that Final Causes are "ex naturâ hominis" _i.e._, have

relation to the nature of Man. "It is difficult," writes Mr. Ellis, "to

assent to the assertion that the notion of the final cause, considered

generally, is more ex naturâ hominis than that of the efficient. The

subject is one of which it is difficult to speak accurately; but it may

be said that wherever we think that we recognise a tendency towards a

fulfilment or realisation of an idea, there the notion of the final

cause comes in. It can only be from inadvertence that Professor Owen

has set the doctrine of the final cause as it were in antithesis to

that of the unity of type: by the former he means the doctrine that the

suitability of an animal to its mode of life is the one thing aimed

at or intended in its structure. It cannot be doubted that Aristotle

would have recognised the preservation of the type as not less truly a

final cause than the preservation of the species or than the well-being

of the individual. The final cause connects itself with what in the

language of modern German philosophy is expressed by the phrase 'the

Idea in Nature.'"[65]

The epigrammatic comparison of a Final Cause to a consecrated

Virgin[66] has been reviewed by numberless disciples as well as critics

of our author. Mr. Ellis annotates the Latin text thus:--"_Nihil

parit_, means simply, _non parit opera_, which though it would have

been a more precise mode of expression would have destroyed the

appositeness of the illustration. No one who fairly considers the

context can, I think, have any doubts as to the limitation with

which the sentence in question is to be taken. But it is often the

misfortune of a pointed saying to be quoted apart from any context, and

consequently to be misunderstood." And this seems to be a scholarly

explanation.[67]

To complete the sketch of Baconian Metaphysic it appears only needful

to add that his respect for the science of Quantity is sufficient to

make him class under this higher philosophy--this near approach to the

apex of his Pyramid--the whole circle of Mathematics.

Our long note will not have been written in vain if the reader bears

its contents in mind when considering the abstract arguments advanced

throughout this Essay. It is well to see what very great authorities

have thought concerning the true use of Metaphysics;--it is well also

to see how they ought to be applied in questions of physical science,

and for the purpose of grounding a science of Natural Theology.

B.--ON THE PHRASE "DESIGN IMPLIES A DESIGNER."

"It has been contended," says Professor Baden Powell, "that in one

sense it is mere tautology to say that Design implies a Designer."

(Connexion of Natural and Divine Truth, p. 183.)

As a matter of fact there can be no doubt that verbal-sounding

phrases, however useful in a system of Mnemonics, and much in favour

as political war-cries, always tend to discredit the sober course of

a philosophic argument. But Paley, though writing popularly, did not

intend a mere _ad captandum_ effect, as may be seen by a reference

to his second chapter. He meant by Design and Contrivance to express

in brief the conditions he had laid down as _characteristic_ of the

intentional adaptation of means to definitely purposed ends,--with

which conditions he appears to have been fully satisfied.

In his 23rd and 24th chapters, where some hasty writer might have said

"law implies a lawgiver," the Archdeacon prefers to state that "a law

pre-supposes an agent," and proceeds to argue the statement on its

merits. "Law," he says, "is only the mode according to which an agent

proceeds: it implies a power, for it is the order according to which

that power acts. Without this agent, without this power, which are both

distinct from itself, the 'law' does nothing; is nothing." (Chapter

23.) He is well satisfied with this argument also, and repeats it

(slightly varied in form) during the course of his next chapter.

In our comparison of Powell with Paley we were led to remark on the

diverse meanings of the word Design, and the facility with which some

authors have glided from one to another among its significations. If

any thinker believes that the examples he adduces are _distinctly_

instances of Foresight, Intention, and Will, he has the Designer full

in mind before he employs the term Design. But if his instances fall

short of thus much _implicit_ force, the argument founded on them is a

worthless verbality.[68]

Those who protest against the popular phrase, "Design proves a

Designer," say it is a temptation to assume this point--(the one point

at issue)--over which it skims with such secure ease. But to any person

in earnest, few things are more irritating than a piece of cool,

thorough-going assumption. It is like catching a cat and persistently

calling it a hare. Many visitors at certain Roman Hotels are aware

that when deprived of ears and tail _more Italico_ and well roasted,

the resemblance between these two animals may give rise to questions

of disputed identity. Imagine, now, a party of cat-catchers, who not

only assume the Identity, but persevere in calling their mongrel curs

harehounds, and themselves huntsmen. No truer claim in reality do

a multitude of Design-hunters possess to any higher title than the

_leguleii_ of Natural Theology. And the blame of their discredit must

in a great degree be laid upon their words. It is easy to say, "A

thrown-stone implies a thrower." But suppose the stone about which you

and I are talking was thrown by the fiery force of a volcano? Must we

hence infer the existence of a Cyclops or a Titan?

This mode of popular speech reached the climax of absurdity when it was

gravely argued that "Evolution implies an Evolver." So it might appear

to the peculiar mind of the speaker; but how about the mind of him who

promulgated the evolution-hypothesis? Stones (as we may observe) fly

from more than one cause, and there is more than one account to be

given of the theory of Evolution.

Enough has been said to show that the phrase commented on in this

note, prejudices the argument it is intended to assist. It wears the

appearance of embodying a foregone conclusion; and gives trouble to the

honest inquirer, who, in order to estimate reasonings at their true

value, must translate them into accurate forms of speech.

We may aptly finish these remarks by a quotation from Whewell's

Aphorisms on the Language of Science. (Aphorism I., Philosophy of the

Inductive Sciences, II. 483.) "Words borrowed from common language,

and converted by scientific writers into technical terms, have some

advantages and some disadvantages. They possess this great convenience,

that they are understood after a very short explanation, and retained

in the memory without effort. On the other hand they lead to some

inconvenience; for since they have a meaning in common language, a

careless reader is prone to disregard the technical limitation of this

meaning, and to attempt to collect their import in scientific books, in

the same vague and conjectural manner in which he collects the purpose

of words in common cases. Hence the language of science, when thus

resembling common language, is liable to be employed with an absence of

that scientific precision which alone gives it value. Popular writers

and talkers, when they speak of _force_, _momentum_, _action_, _and

reaction_, and the like, often afford examples of the inaccuracy thus

arising from the scientific appropriation of common terms."

A similar line of reflection led Coleridge to remark (Biog. Lit.,

Chap. x.) that "the language of the market would be in the schools as

_pedantic_, though it might not be reprobated by that name, as the

language of the schools in the market. The mere man of the world, who

insists that no other terms but such as occur in common conversation

should be employed in a scientific disquisition, and with no greater

precision, is as truly a _pedant_ as the man of letters, who, either

over-rating the acquirements of his auditors, or misled by his own

familiarity with technical or scholastic terms, converses at the

wine-table with his mind fixed on his museum or laboratory." And such

pedantry is, we may add, not uncommonly just as perspicuous as the

definition which, says old Glanvill, "was lately given of a _Thought_

in a _University Sermon_--viz. _A Repentine Prosiliency jumping into

Being_." (_Defence of the Vanity of Dogmatizing_, Actio Decima, p. 61,

ed. 1.)

C.--HUME ON THE ANALOGIES OF ART AND NATURE.

[_Referred to in footnote (e) in the preceding Chapter._]

The statement in the text is shaped as a not unfairly urged scientific

objection of the kind which might be raised by some actual craftsman

or producer. An objection identical in essence is thrown by Hume into

a refined semi-metaphysical shape, and made to turn upon our general

acquaintance with Human nature contrasted with our general ignorance of

the Divine. It runs as follows:--

"The infinite difference of the subjects, replied he," (Hume's dramatic

Epicurus,) "is a sufficient foundation for this difference in my

conclusions. In works of _human_ art and contrivance, it is allowable

to advance from the effect to the cause, and returning back from the

cause, to form new inferences concerning the effect, and examine the

alterations which it has probably undergone, or may still undergo. But

what is the foundation of this method of reasoning? Plainly this; that

man is a being, whom we know by experience, whose motives and designs

we are acquainted with, and whose projects and inclinations have a

certain connection and coherence, according to the laws which nature

has established for the government of such a creature. When, therefore,

we find that any work has proceeded from the skill and industry of man;

as we are otherwise acquainted with the nature of the animal, we can

draw a hundred inferences concerning what may be expected from him; and

these inferences will all be founded in experience and observation.

But did we know man only from the single work or production which we

examine, it were impossible for us to argue in this manner; because our

knowledge of all the qualities, which we ascribe to him, being in that

case derived from the production, it is impossible they could point to

anything farther, or be the foundation of any new inference....

"The case is not the same with our reasonings from the works of nature.

The Deity is known to us only by his productions, and is a single

being in the universe, not comprehended under any species or genus,

from whose experienced attributes or qualities, we can, by analogy,

infer any attribute or quality in him." (Enquiry concerning Human

Understanding. Section xi.)

Hume himself gives in his own character a reply partially veiled by the

same half-metaphysical style which characterises the objection:--

"There occurs to me (continued I), with regard to your main topic, a

difficulty which I shall just propose to you without insisting on it,

lest it lead into reasonings of too nice and delicate a nature. In a

word, I much doubt whether it be possible for a cause to be known only

by its effect (as you have all along supposed), or to be of so singular

and particular a nature, as to have no parallel and no similarity with

any other cause or object that has ever fallen under our observation.

It is only when two _species_ of objects are found to be constantly

conjoined, that we can infer the one from the other: and were an effect

presented which was entirely singular, and could not be comprehended

under any known _species_, I do not see, that we could form any

conjecture or inference at all concerning its cause. If experience

and observation and analogy be, indeed, the only guides which we can

reasonably follow in inferences of this nature; both the effect and

cause must bear a similarity and resemblance to other effects and

causes which we know, and which we have found, in many instances, to be

conjoined with each other. I leave it to your own reflection to pursue

the consequences of this principle." (Ibid.)

The consequences which ought in fairness to be deduced may be stated

thus. The effect we contemplate, (_i.e._ Nature,) is _not_ singular

but can be compared with other effects--those of Art. The comparison

is made in respect of certain specific attributes or properties upon

which the Design analogy turns, so that we may reason upwards to

certain specific analogies of Causation. Art manifests the foreseeing

attributes of the human artist, and from comparison of these we

infer in the Creator like attributes,--what Hume elsewhere calls the

_natural_ attributes of the Deity. But this likeness is properly termed

_analogical_, because of the vast difference in the magnitude of the

effects _from_ which we thus reason, and of the causes _to_ which we

reason. As our wisdom and power are proportionable to our earthly

works, so are the Divine wisdom and power proportionable to the whole

majestic Universe. There is, then, a comparison in _species_, but not

in grandeur--the attributes are not _similar_, but _analogical_. As the

Heavens are high above the Earth, so are His thoughts higher than our

thoughts.

D.--THE PANTHEISTIC CONSEQUENCES CHARGED UPON PHYSICAL SPECULATIONS.

The following is the passage from Professor Baden Powell referred to in

note (_h_) of the preceding chapter. Some short extracts were also made

from it on a previous page.

"Nothing but the common confused and mistaken notions as to laws and

causes, could give any colour to the assertion that ... physical

speculations tend to substitute general physical laws in the place of

the Deity; and that scientific statements of the conclusions of Natural

Theology are nothing but ill-disguised Pantheism.

"The utter futility of such inferences is at once seen, when the

smallest attention is given to the plain distinctions above laid down

between 'moral' and 'physical' causation; and to the proper force of

the conclusions from natural science establishing the former by means

of the latter.

"This distinction obviously points to the _very reverse_ of the

assertion that physical action is identical with its moral cause; the

essential difference and contrast between them is the very point which

the whole argument upholds and enforces.

"Of all forms of philosophical mysticism, the idea of Pantheism seems

to me one of the most extravagant. Ever-present _mind_ is a direct

inference from the universal order of nature, or rather only another

mode of expressing it. But of the _mode_ of existence of that mind we

can infer nothing.

"To assert, then, that this universally manifested mind is

_co-existent_, or even to be _identified_, with _matter_, is at best

a mere gratuitous hypothesis, and as such wholly unphilosophical in

itself, and leading to many preposterous consequences. But if further

supposed to apply in any higher sense as to an object of worship,

trust, love, obedience, or the like (as is implied in the term

Pan_theism_), it appears to involve moral contradictions of the most

startling kind.

"There are, however, many who, though rejecting Pantheism as _untrue_,

do not conceive it _absurd_ or _contradictory_. Much, however, will,

in all such cases, depend on the precise _sense_ in which it is

maintained. With some it seems to have been upheld on a fanciful

analogy with the conception of the human frame animated by an

indwelling spirit; as if in a somewhat similar manner the supreme mind

might animate nature. Without disputing this in a certain sense, the

cases surely cannot be considered at all parallel: we do not infer the

existence of the human mind, from the arrangement and adaptation of the

bodily organs, nor is it the moral cause of their organisation.

"If Pantheism were asserted merely in the sense of a kind of vital or

animating principle pervading the material world, I would admit that

such an idea involves _no absurdity_, or _contradiction_, but still I

should regard it as visionary and unphilosophical. I could but class

it with the 'vital forces' which Kepler fancied necessary for keeping

up the motions of the planets, with the 'plastic powers of nature,'

'her abhorrence of a vacuum,' and the like chimæras. But it is when men

elevate such a supposed animating principle into a _Deity_, a being

of supreme wisdom, power, beneficence, and goodness, yet residing in

every atom of matter, and _participating directly_ in every form and

case of material action, that the contradiction arises." _Spirit of the

Inductive Philosophy_, pp. 176-9.

E.--THE EXTENT AND DIVISIONS OF THE SCIENCE OF NATURAL THEOLOGY.

The following passages from Professor Powell's Essay "on the Spirit

of the Inductive Philosophy" will go far to justify the praise and

blame bestowed upon his mode of procedure in the text of the foregoing

chapter. But we would recommend his own pages to the student's

discriminative perusal.

In extract No. 1, Baden Powell shows with equal truth and force that

universal Law must be contemplated as a manifestation of one supreme

Intelligence presiding over the whole Universe. A philosopher who looks

on Nature with this majestic breadth of view does not need for his own

deepest convictions to follow Design through a multitude of smaller

evidences.

If extract No. 2 could be admitted as a _full_ account of the

conditions and limitations of Natural Theology, our science would seem

to result in an obscuration of the magnificently Supreme Power already

accepted. So far as its _letter_ goes, the Creator of the Universe

might appear to be shut out from the world which He has made. We cannot

(as has been said) consent to this narrow consideration of Natural

Theology, nor yet of Powell's meaning.

Extract No. 3 acknowledges what all physical investigators ought to

acknowledge,--that although their sciences contribute very much towards

solving the problem of the Universe, and although their results readily

harmonize with the solution maintained by the Theist--yet there rests

over that vast problem a cloud which the physical sciences cannot

completely dispel. This (as we shall see in Chapter V.) is indeed the

confession of the greatest minds at present engaged upon the philosophy

of Natural Science.

_Extract_ No. 1.--"From the inductive philosophy we derive our belief

in the harmony, order, and uniformity of natural causes, perpetually

maintained in a universally connected chain of dependence. And hence it

is, that we arrive at those sublime ideas of a presiding Intelligence

of which _law_ and _uniformity_, universal mechanism once for all

adjusted, are the proper _external manifestations_.

"To the truly inductive philosopher, _fate_ and _chance_, _necessity_

and _accident_, are words without meaning. To him, the world is made

up of recondite combinations of physical laws, and the existence and

maintenance of those laws are the very indication of a Supreme Mind.

But chance is irreconcilable with laws, fate with mind, regulated and

fixed order with blind destiny, fortuitous accident, or arbitrary

interruption.

"All rational natural theology advances by tracing the immediate

mechanical steps and particular processes in detail, and the physical

causes in which the influences of the Great Moral Cause or Supreme Mind

are manifested. The greater the number and extent of such secondary

steps and intermediate processes through which we can trace it, the

greater the complexity and wider the ramifications of the chain of

causes, the more powerful and convincing the instruction they convey as

to the existence and operation of the Divine wisdom and power.

"Yet it is a common mode of illustration to speak of the _chain_ of

secondary causes reaching up to the First Cause. Or, again, fears are

entertained of tracing secondary causes too far, so as to intrench on

the supremacy of the First Cause. But this is an erroneous analogy: the

maker or designer of a chain is no more at one end of it than at the

other. The length of the chain in no way alters our conviction of its

skilful structure, except to enhance it. If the number of links were

truly _infinite_, so much the more infinite the skill of its framer.

"Mr. F. Newman observes,[69] I think most truly, that the _common_

arguments from what are called 'secondary causes' to the 'First Cause'

are unsatisfactory: and I would trace this to the confused sense in

which those terms are commonly used, as already explained; and which, I

think, might be entirely removed by attention to the distinctions above

laid down. While, on the other hand, I fully acknowledge that those

arguments, when correctly understood, lead only to a _very limited_

conclusion; and one which falls infinitely _short_ of those high moral

and spiritual intuitions on which Mr. F. Newman grounds his religious

system, yet in no way discredits or supersedes them." _Essay_, pp.

151-4.

_Extract_ No. 2.--"In the present state of knowledge, law and order,

physical causation and uniformity of action, are the elevated

manifestations of Divinity, creation and providence. Interruptions of

such order (if for a moment they could be admitted as such) could only

produce a sort of temporary concealment of such manifestations, and

involve the beautiful light shed over the natural world in a passing

cloud. We do not indeed _doubt_ that the sun exists behind the cloud,

but we certainly do not see it; still less can we call the obscuration

a special _proof_ of its presence. The main point in the system of

order and law is its absolute _universality_. Exceptions, if real, must

_pro tanto_ imply a deficiency in the chain of connexion, and might, to

a sceptical disposition, offer a ground of doubt.

"But so overwhelming is the mass and body of proof, that no philosophic

mind would allow such exceptions for a moment to weigh against

it; they would be as dust in the balance. A supreme moral cause

manifested through law, order, and physical causes, is the confession

of science: conflicting operations, arbitrary interruptions, abrupt

discontinuities, are the idols of ignorance, and, if they really

prevailed, would so far be to the philosopher only the exponents of

chaos and atheism; the obscuration (as far as they extend) of the

sensible manifestation of the Supreme Intelligence." _Ibid._ 165, 6.

_Extract_ No. 3.--"The whole tenor of the preceding argument is

directed to show that the inference and assertion of a _Supreme Moral

Cause_, distinct from and above nature, results immediately from the

recognition of the eternal and universal maintenance of the order of

_physical causes_, which are its essential _external manifestations_.

"Of the _mode of action or operation_ by which the Supreme Moral Cause

influences the universal order of physical causes, _we confess our

utter ignorance_. But the _evidence_ of such operation, where nature

exists, can never be lost or interrupted. And in proportion as our

more extended researches exhibit these indications more fully and more

gloriously displayed, we cannot but believe that our contemplations are

more nearly and truly approaching their SOURCE." _Ibid._ 179.

The reader will not grudge the time he may have bestowed upon this

note if it leads him to a distinct apprehension of the true breadth and

compass of our science.

"Natural Theology," says Kant, "infers the attributes and the existence

of an author of the world, from the constitution of, the order and

unity observable in this world, in which two modes of Causality,

together with their laws, must be accepted--that is to say, Nature

and Freedom. Thus Natural Theology rises from this world to a

supreme Intelligence, whether as to the principle of all natural or

of all moral order and perfection. In the former case it is termed

Physico-Theology, in the latter Ethical or Moral Theology." This last

term he explains by adding, "Not theological ethics; for this latter

science contains ethical laws, which _presuppose_ the existence of a

Supreme Governor of the world; while Moral Theology, on the contrary,

is an evidence of the existence of a Supreme Being, an evidence founded

upon ethical laws." _Kant's Kritik der reinen Vernunft Transscendental

Elementarlehre_, s. 7.

It was from the fulness and depth of a personal conviction on this

topic that the present writer ventured to assert in 1870 that "The

conditions under which Natural Theology becomes scientifically

possible, are found when it supplements Natural Science by a science of

Right and Wrong," and also that "for the future Natural Theology ought

to follow this path and no other--unless it wishes to commit suicide."

These assertions were made in a University Sermon[70] on the question,

"Under what Conditions is a Science of Natural Theology possible?" and

they were censured as novel and unprecedented by critics who ought to

have known better.

F.--ON TELEOLOGY.

One consequence of the principle on which this Essay has been framed

is an endeavour to place before the reader's eye different modes of

reasoning in the language of their several authors. The method of

looking at any subject-matter in a diversity of lights naturally leads

to copiousness of quotation. There can, it is evident, be no varieties

of thought so undeniably distinct as those which are the actual

products of diverse minds.

The maxim which has governed the following selection is what Bacon

would call a marshalling Idea. They posit one central thought and throw

light upon it from a circle of separate reflectors.

Let it be observed that such a collection of opinions implies no

appeal to authority in the narrow sense of the word. There is indeed a

manifest distinction between authority and authorities--and our present

appeal is to the latter. No man's _ipse dixit_ can dogmatically settle

questions which belong to an inquirer's responsible self; but it is

surely the wisdom of every one who acknowledges the awful sense of

accountability attendant on the determination of questions affecting

his central beliefs, to weigh the reasonings of others who have felt

the same deep impression of their paramount importance. If any one

is reluctant so to do from an idea that by doing thus much he pays a

wrongful deference to prejudices, he has in truth assumed the whole

issue which he is bound to examine. How otherwise can he certainly

allege that the prejudice is not inherent within himself?

Reluctance of this kind would on the present occasion be thoroughly

misplaced. Authorities as here quoted are neither more nor less than

the opinions of experts who have a title to be heard each in his own

proper department. Throughout the practical conduct of life we all

experience the benefit of laying aside our private spectacles from

time to time and of looking through the glasses of other men. And in

questions such as the one now before us, is it possible to do better

than try whether we can see for ourselves what has been pronounced

discernible by men who contemplated this world of ours with more than

ordinary powers of vision?

The present writer has a personal interest in bringing together the

reflections of many who have reached the same resting-place along

various lines of approach, and who have expressed their conclusions

with some diversity of language. He has ventured himself on viewing the

evidences of Natural Theology from a position by no means identical

with that most commonly occupied by Natural Theologians. The student,

therefore, who takes a wide survey of the field will be the critic best

prepared to examine the latter part of this Essay.

The first authority quoted among our ample citations is Hume, whose

appearance as a witness for Natural Theology may surprise some readers.

As, however, is remarked by an eminent writer in the _Quarterly_,

Hume's hard common sense "enabled him when he liked, to control the

excesses of a speculative imagination and subject it to practical

reason, as he understood reason's verdict." He even went so far as to

say that "The whole frame of Nature bespeaks an Intelligent Author;

and no rational inquirer can, after serious reflection, suspend his

belief a moment with regard to the primary principles of genuine Theism

and Religion." (_Natural History of Religion_, Introduction.) Indeed,

according to Cucheval Clarigny,[71] Hume was an "almost Christian" at

certain periods of his life. The repellant forces that kept him back,

are "not far to seek."

The following passages refer to the illative analogy which forms the

proper shape of the argument from Design.

"That the works of Nature bear a great analogy to the productions of

art, is evident; and according to all the rules of good reasoning,

we ought to infer, if we argue at all concerning them, that their

causes have a proportional analogy. But as there are also considerable

differences, we have reason to suppose a proportional difference

in the causes; and in particular ought to attribute a much higher

degree of power and energy to the supreme cause than any we have

ever observed in mankind. Here then the existence of a DEITY is

plainly ascertained by reason: and if we make it a question whether,

on account of these analogies, we can properly call him a _mind_

or _intelligence_, notwithstanding the vast difference which may

reasonably be supposed between him and human minds; what is this but

a mere verbal controversy? No man can deny the analogies between the

effects: To restrain ourselves from inquiring concerning the causes,

is scarcely possible: From this inquiry, the legitimate conclusion is,

that the causes have also an analogy: And if we are not contented with

calling the first and supreme cause a GOD or DEITY, but desire to vary

the expression; what can we call him but MIND or THOUGHT, to which he

is justly supposed to bear a considerable resemblance?" _Dialogues

concerning Natural Religion_, Part xii. in Essays, Vol. II. p. 526.[72]

"If the whole of Natural Theology, as some people seem to maintain,

resolves itself into one simple, though somewhat ambiguous, at least

undefined proposition, _That the cause or causes of order in the

universe probably bear some remote analogy to human intelligence_.

If this proposition be not capable of extension, variation, or more

particular explication; if it affords no inference that affects human

life, or can be the source of any action or forbearance; and if the

analogy, imperfect as it is, can be carried no farther than to the

human intelligence, and cannot be transferred, with any appearance of

probability, to the other qualities of the mind: If this really be the

case, what can the most inquisitive, contemplative, and religious man

do more than give a plain, philosophical assent to the proposition,

as often as it occurs; and believe that the arguments on which it is

established, exceed the objections which lie against it?" _Ibid._ p.

538.

The following is the opinion of Cleanthes, upon whom Hume confers the

palm in the dialogue;--"Take care, Philo, replied Cleanthes; take care;

push not matters too far: allow not your zeal against false religion to

undermine your veneration for the true. Forfeit not this principle, the

chief, the only great comfort in life; and our principal support amidst

all the attacks of adverse fortune. The most agreeable reflection,

which it is possible for human imagination to suggest, is that of

genuine Theism, which represents us as the workmanship of a Being

perfectly good, wise, and powerful; who created us for happiness; and

who, having implanted in us immeasurable desires of good, will prolong

our existence to all eternity, and will transfer us into an infinite

variety of scenes, in order to satisfy those desires, and render our

felicity complete and durable. Next to such a Being himself (if the

comparison be allowed), the happiest lot which we can imagine, is that

of being under his guardianship and protection." _Ibid._ p.535.[73]

The next three extracts give Hume's opinion on the prevailing principle

disclosed by the analogy--design, purpose, and the recognition of final

causes:--

"Though the stupidity of men, barbarous and uninstructed, be so great,

that they may not see a sovereign author in the more obvious works of

nature, to which they are so much familiarized; yet it scarce seems

possible, that any one of good understanding should reject that idea,

when once it is suggested to him. A purpose, an intention, a design is

evident in everything; and when our comprehension is so far enlarged

as to contemplate the first rise of this visible system, we must

adopt, with the strongest conviction, the idea of some intelligent

cause or author. The uniform maxims, too, which prevail throughout

the whole frame of the universe, naturally, if not necessarily, lead

us to conceive this intelligence as single and undivided, where the

prejudices of education oppose not so reasonable a theory. Even the

contrarieties of nature, by discovering themselves everywhere, become

proofs of some consistent plan, and establish one single purpose or

intention, however inexplicable and incomprehensible." _Natural History

of Religion_ XV.--General Corollary, in _Essays_ II. pp. 422, 3.

"In many views of the universe, and of its parts, particularly the

latter, the beauty and fitness of final causes strike us with such

irresistible force that all objections appear (what I believe they

really are) mere cavils and sophisms; nor can we then imagine how it

was ever possible for us to repose any weight on them." _Dialogues

concerning Natural Religion_, Part X. in _Essays_, II. 509.

"The order and arrangement of nature, the curious adjustment of final

causes, the plain use and intention of every part and organ; all these

bespeak in the clearest language an intelligent cause or author. The

heavens and the earth join in the same testimony. The whole chorus of

nature raises one hymn to the praises of its Creator.... I have found a

Deity; and here I stop my enquiry. Let those go farther who are wiser

or more enterprising." _Ibid._ Part IV. p. 467.

Hume is conspicuous amongst reasoners on Natural Theology for having

distinctly comprehended Human Nature along with Nature in the cycle

of its evidences. "This sentence at least," he writes, "Reason will

venture to pronounce, That a mental world, or universe of ideas,

requires a cause as much as does a material world, or universe of

objects; and, if similar in its arrangement, must require a similar

cause. For what is there in this subject which should occasion a

different conclusion or inference? In an abstract view, they are

entirely alike; and no difficulty attends the one supposition which is

not common to both of them." _Ibid._ Part IV. p. 464.

This statement brings us to the impediments which withheld Hume from

forming a sublime idea of the Divine Being, such an idea as kindles the

enthusiasm of devout men, and inspires even timidly sensitive souls

with deathless confidence in the final triumph of a self-sacrificing

virtue destined to survive the grave. These causes were the opinions he

maintained respecting human nature. We may lay it down as a universal

rule that every one who sees the animal, but not the heaven-aspiring

moral element in his own nature, and in our common nature, will fail

to represent to himself the lineaments or reflection of the Divine

attributes. An acknowledged kinship with brutal passions, the lowering

of society and wedlock to animal gregariousness, of moral principle

and the rule of Right and Wrong to a perception of Utility, are fatal

hindrances in the search after God;--a search arduous to the best

of us, since deep as the far translucent heavens, are the majestic

thoughts of Him after Whom we strive to feel. Now Hume failed to

discern the Godlike in Man. "Human life," he remarks in his _Sceptic_,

"is more governed by fortune than by reason; is to be regarded more as

a dull pastime than as a serious occupation; and is more influenced by

particular humour than by general principles." Morality is no fixed

star in Hume's firmament. To omit the laxity of many moral maxims he

lays down, the very nature and foundations of morality were imperilled

by his analytics.[74]

"He has," writes Mackintosh, "altogether omitted the circumstance on

which depends the difference of our sentiments regarding moral and

intellectual qualities. We _admire_ intellectual excellence, but we

bestow no moral _approbation_ on it." And again--"He entirely overlooks

that consciousness of the _rightful supremacy of the moral faculty_

over every other principle of human action, without an explanation

of which, ethical theory is wanting in one of its vital organs."

_Ethical Philosophy_, pp. 182, 4. "If," says Hume in the _Sceptic_,

"we can depend upon any principle which we learn from philosophy,

this, I think, may be considered as certain and undoubted, that there

is nothing in itself valuable or despicable, desirable or hateful,

beautiful or deformed; but that these attributes arise from the

particular constitution and fabric of human sentiment and affection."

And half a dozen pages afterwards--"Good and ill, both natural and

moral, are entirely relative to human sentiment and affection." So

too, "The necessity of justice to the support of society is," he tells

us, "the SOLE foundation of that virtue;" usefulness, he

explains, "is the SOLE source of the moral approbation paid

to fidelity, justice, veracity, integrity, and those other estimable

and useful qualities and principles." It is also "the source of a

considerable part of the merit ascribed to humanity, benevolence,

friendship, public spirit, and other social virtues of that stamp."

_Principles of Morals_, Sect. III. _sub fin._ With these sentiments it

is not surprising that while he insists on the analogy between human

workmanship and the natural universe he cannot argue analogically

from moral Truth to the Divine attributes--and even goes so far as to

decide that the first causes of the Universe "have neither goodness nor

malice."

The student of Natural Theology cannot direct his attention too soon

or too steadily to the vast share possessed by our moral sentiments

in our apprehension of the Divine nature. It is from our sense of

Responsibility attached to each act of Will and Choice that we deduce

the idea of causation. It is from our intuitions of immutable moral

truth and the irreconcilable antithesis between Right and Wrong that

we behold the Martyr as one who has not lived in vain, but lives truly

and for ever; and are sure that there exists a God who has regard to

the righteous, the oppressed, the fatherless, and the widow. Clear

moral insight appears in Socrates, who chose to die rather than offend

against the eternal laws. But ought the man to be styled moral or

immoral who should balance together two comparative utilities,--that

of preserving his father's life and that of acquiring by a judicious

neglect, without risk to himself, a property which he resolved to

expend usefully? Of one thing we may be sure, God could not be in all

his thoughts whilst making such a calculation.

It is thus that a pure Morality and an elevated conception of the

Divine Being act and react upon each other. And in this way our

speculative and practical Reason become interlaced--the former giving

to the logical understanding an account of those ideas which form the

essential sublimity and moving influence of our practical beliefs--the

springs of our daily and hourly behaviour. There is no more certain

characteristic of a mind so ordered than its ability to deal with a

moral doubt which casuists might long debate, to solve the enigma

within the compass of a moment's thought, and to defend the solution by

fair and honest argument. As regards our present question it makes no

difference by what means such a condition of mind may have been brought

about, but it is plain that a sense of accountability has much to do

with this condition. And the connexion between Responsibility and our

belief in a life immortal, and in a just and veracious God, will form a

subject for future consideration.

Meantime, the reader must take Hume's acceptance of the doctrine of

final causes and the Design-analogy, for what it is worth. No candid

person ought to condemn Hume as he has often been condemned without

remembering the allowance to be made for his excessive vanity,[75]

his extreme love of paradoxical speculation, and the dramatic irony

which runs throughout his writings. These are in fact some of the

qualities which make him an unfit schoolmaster for the young, and a

shrewd exercise for elder men. One useful lesson we gather just now is

learned from the fact that he places a wide gulf between the natural

and moral attributes of the Deity, and draws a veil over the latter,

because the alleged poverty of our moral ideas precludes any analogy to

reason upon, however remote that analogy may appear. Hence Hume's God

of Nature becomes a shadow like Wordsworth's Laodamia, scarce fit for

the Elysian bowers; He is no longer felt by us to be the God of Human

Nature.

We cannot here omit to observe that Hume had no thought of worshipping

the Order of the World, or of erecting a temple to immutable Laws,

blind Force, or any other blank impersonal Necessity. The limit of his

inquiry was what to human reason might appear the easiest and most

probable interpretation of nature.[76] This question he asked and

answered. Whether modern science has added important data on which

to found a more conclusive reply is a further inquiry which we shall

have to consider, but meantime it appears certain that _if_ the most

sceptical theory of the most sceptical scientist were held true, there

would still remain the same necessity for asking Hume's question. For

neither our life, nor the world we live in, nor the wide universe,

have any real cause or aim scientifically assigned them. We should

still have to inquire by what agency and to what purpose we and the All

exist? That we really _are_ is a fact for you, O reader, and for me;

and we cannot but want to discover _whether_ we shall yet _be_, when

this brief yet tedious life is done; and if so, whether our present

acts and choosings must influence our Hereafter? Science has said

nothing to annihilate our interest concerning these topics, nor yet to

finally decide them.

For the truth of what is contained in this last paragraph, we may

cite as witness amongst scientific men, the distinguished President

of the British Association for 1872. Dr. Carpenter spoke at Brighton

in these words:--"There is a great deal of what I cannot but regard

as fallacious and misleading Philosophy--'oppositions of Science

falsely so called'--abroad in the world at the present time. And I

hope to satisfy you, that those who set up _their own conceptions_ of

the Orderly Sequence which they discern in the Phenomena of Nature,

as fixed and determinate _Laws_, by which those phenomena not only

_are_ within all Human experience, but always _have been_, and always

_must be_, invariably governed, are really guilty of the Intellectual

arrogance they condemn in the Systems of the Ancients, and place

themselves in diametrical antagonism to those real Philosophers, by

whose comprehensive grasp and penetrating insight that Order has been

so far disclosed." And again towards the close of his Address:--"With

the growth of the Scientific Study of Nature, the conception of its

Harmony and Unity gained ever-increasing strength. And so among the

most enlightened of the Greek and Roman Philosophers, we find a

distinct recognition of the idea of the Unity of the Directing Mind

from which the Order of Nature proceeds; for they obviously believed

that, as our modern Poet has expressed it--

"All are but parts of one stupendous whole,

Whose body Nature is, and God the Soul."

The Science of Modern times, however, has taken a more special

direction. Fixing its attention exclusively on the _Order_ of Nature,

it has separated itself wholly from Theology, whose function it is to

seek after its _Cause_. In this, Science is fully justified, alike by

the entire independence of its objects, and by the historical fact

that it has been continually hampered and impeded in its search for

the Truth as it is in Nature, by the restraints which Theologians have

attempted to impose upon its inquiries. But when Science, passing

beyond its own limits, assumes to take the place of Theology, and sets

up its own conception of the _Order_ of Nature as a sufficient account

of its _Cause_, it is invading a province of Thought to which it has no

claim, and not unreasonably provokes the hostility of those who ought

to be its best friends."

Our next extract is from Sir Benjamin Brodie, and it, too, considers

the absolute permanence of the laws of Nature in relation to Design:--

Crites. "There have been sceptics who have believed that the laws of

nature were, if I may use the expression, self-existent; and that what

we now see around us is but a continuation of a system that has been

going on from all eternity--thus dispensing with the notion of a great

creative Intelligence altogether."

Eubulus. "Under any view of the subject, it seems to me that it would

be very difficult, if not impossible, for any of us practically to

separate the marks of design, and of the adaptation of means to ends,

which the universe affords, but which are more especially conspicuous

in the animal and vegetable kingdoms, from the notion of an intelligent

Cause. There is not one of the sceptics to whom you have alluded, who

would not, if he were asked the question, "What is the use of the eye?"

answer, "that it is intended to be the organ of vision, as the ear is

intended to be that of hearing, and as the nostrils are constructed

for the purpose of smell." But what I said just now requires some

further explanation. When I stated that at the present time there is no

evidence of any deviation from certain established laws of nature--that

if we could thoroughly know and thoroughly appreciate what those laws

really are, we should be able to account for all the phenomena around

us--I was far from intending to say that there has never been a period

when other laws than those which are now in force were in operation,

or that the time may not arrive when the present order of things will

be in a similar manner superseded. Looking at the structure of the

globe, and the changes in its surface which have been disclosed to the

observation of geologists, we recognize the probability that there was

a time when this planet of ours was no better than a huge aërolite,

and in a state quite incompatible with animal or even vegetable life.

The existence of living beings, then, must have had a beginning; yet

we have no evidence of any law now in force which will account for

this marvellous creation."[77] Psychological Inquiries, Part II., pp.

193-4-5.

The great surgeon next discusses the question of "Equivocal Generation"

now known by the terms Archebiosis and Abiogenesis. His opinion,

together with some later information on the topic, will be found in our

additional notes to Chapter III.

When writing his first series of "Inquiries" Sir Benjamin recorded his

judgment regarding our knowledge and conception of the Divine Existence

and in terms which show how closely he connected the general subject of

Mind and its Essence with his idea of the Creator.

Eubulus. "When I contemplate the evidence of intention and design which

present themselves everywhere around us, but which, to our limited

comprehensions, is more especially manifested in the vegetable and

animal creations, I cannot avoid attributing the construction and order

of the universe to an intelligent being, whose power and knowledge are

such that it is impossible for me to form any adequate conception of

them, any more than I can avoid referring the motions of the planets

and stars to the same law of gravitation as that which directs the

motions of our own globe. But no one, I apprehend, will maintain that

the mind of the Deity depends on a certain construction of brain and

nerves; and Dr. Priestley, the most philosophical of the advocates of

the system of materialism, ventures no further than to say that we

have no knowledge on the subject. But, to use the words of Sir Isaac

Newton, 'This powerful ever-living agent being in all places, is more

able to move the bodies within his boundless uniform sensorium, and

thereby to form and reform the parts of the universe, than we are,

by our will, to move the parts of our own bodies.' The remainder of

the passage from which I have made this quotation, is not without

interest, as indicating the view which Newton took of the matter in

question:--'And yet we are not to consider the world as the body of

God, or the several parts thereof as the parts of God. He is an uniform

being, void of organs, members, or parts, and they are his creatures,

subordinate to him, and subservient to him, and he is no more the soul

of them than the soul of man is the soul of the species carried through

the organs of sense into the place of its sensation, where it perceives

them by its immediate presence, without the intervention of any third

thing. The organs of sense are not for enabling the soul to perceive

the species of things in its sensorium, but only for conveying them

thither; and God has no need of any such organs, he being everywhere

present to the things themselves.'"

Ergates. "I entirely agree with you in the opinion that we must admit

the existence of the Deity as a fact as well established as that of the

law of gravitation, and that in doing so we must further admit that

mind may and does exist, independently of bodily organization. Be it

also remembered that _mind_, in its humblest form, is still _mind_,

and that, immeasurable as the distance between them may be, it must

nevertheless be regarded as being of the same essence with that of the

Deity himself. For my own part I find no difficulty in conceiving the

existence of mind independently of corporeal organs." (p. 39, seq.)

Those who have read Professor Huxley's article on the Metaphysics of

Sensation,[78] will feel much interested in the passages selected from

Newton by Sir Benjamin. It seems almost a pity that the accomplished

Professor did not cite any of Dr. Clarke's explanatory remarks

addressed to Leibniz respecting Sir Isaac Newton's expressions. The

similitude above quoted, Clarke explains thus:--"Mr. Newton considère

le cerveau et les organes des sens, comme le moyen par lequel ces

images sont Formées et non comme le moyen par lequel l'âme voit

ou aperçoit ces images, lorsqu'elles sont ainsi formées. Et dans

l'Univers, il ne considère pas les choses, comme si elles étaient des

images formées par un certain moyen ou par des organes; mais comme

des choses réelles, que Dieu lui-même a formées, et qu'il voit dans

tous les lieux où elles sont, sans l'intervention d'aucun moyen. C'est

tout ce que Mr. Newton a voulu dire par la comparaison, dont il s'est

servi, lorsqu'il suppose que l'Espace infini est, pour ainsi dire, le

Sensorium de l'Etre qui est présent partout."

A simpler way of putting the case may be to point out that the

comparison of a Sensorium is intended, like other similitudes we have

reviewed, to hold in only one point. Newton uses it apparently to

localize the idea of _immediate intuition_. In this way all Space, the

whole Universe, with its moving contents, which transcend the farthest

flight of human imagination are,--not distantly,--but immediately

present to the mind of God.

* * * * *

Passing from these thoughts which may illustrate, but cannot explain,

a subject dark with excess of splendour, we now enter on a series of

extracts so chosen as to furnish an ample examination of the several

_ideas_ involved in the philosophy of Design, and an estimate of their

several values. It is evidently important that the reader should

possess some means of forming clear conceptions respecting the nature

of these ideas, and the collection now appended, aims at saving him

the trouble of a tedious search. Any points which may have appeared

perplexing or obscure in the preceding Chapter will, it is hoped, be

made sufficiently plain by a perusal of the following pages.

The first in this class of passages is taken from Whewell's Philosophy

of the Inductive Sciences. No one probably was ever much better

fitted by training and attainment than that eminent writer for the

investigation he here undertakes. We must, however, caution the reader

against supposing that Dr. Whewell means to introduce him into a

world of Platonism. The ideas he speaks of may be illustrated in this

way. Suppose a person constructs a right line according to Euclid's

definition and draws it evenly between its extreme points, his mind

has immediately an impression of rightness or straightness, which

he attaches to all lines actually so constructed or conceived of as

theoretically possible. This idea of straightness is absolute and

universal. So, again, looking at two such lines, he knows that they,

cannot, in the nature of things inclose a space, and this idea likewise

is universal and absolutely true.

With the nature of these ideas as a psychological question, the reader

need not concern himself for our present purpose. It is sufficient to

observe they are brought into activity by a practical occasion. Whether

they were wholly or partially pre-existent--or whether they represent

a state of our Reason evoked by the occasion--are points which make no

difference to their exact strength of validity. We find as a matter

of fact in going through life that this particular class of ideas is

so very true that it enables us to gauge the material universe. Yet

notably enough, Hume in his Treatise (I. 247, seq.) reduces applied

mathematics to a species of probability.

Other ideas having various degrees of validity and practical necessity

are involved in the diverse processes which pertain to the inductive

sciences. Dr. Whewell's work was written for the purpose of

elucidating them, which he does at great length. To some such ideas,

principles, and beliefs we shall advert by and bye.

All that seems now necessary is to remark that the distinguished

author's general division (Book IX.) where our extract will be found,

is concerned with the Philosophy of Biology, and that the paragraphs

quoted are sections of its chapter VI., "On the Idea of Final Causes."

"1. By an examination of those notions which enter into all our

reasonings and judgments on living things, it appears that we conceive

animal life as a vortex or cycle of moving matter in which the form

of the vortex determines the motions, and these motions again support

the form of the vortex: the stationary parts circulate the fluids,

and the fluids nourish the permanent parts. Each portion ministers to

the others, each depends upon the other. The parts make up the whole,

but the existence of the whole is essential to the preservation of

the parts. But parts existing under such conditions are _organs_,

and the whole is _organized_. This is the fundamental conception of

organization. 'Organized beings,' says the physiologist,[79] 'are

composed of a number of essential and mutually dependent parts.'--'An

organized product of nature,' says the great metaphysician,[80] 'is

that in which all the parts are mutually ends and means.'

"2. It will be observed that we do not content ourselves with saying

that in such a whole, all the parts are _mutually dependent_. This

might be true even of a mechanical structure; it would be easy to

imagine a framework in which each part should be necessary to the

support of each of the others; for example, an arch of several stones.

But in such a structure the parts have no properties which they derive

from the whole. They are beams or stones when separate; they are no

more when joined. But the same is not the case in an organized whole.

The limb of an animal separated from the body, loses the properties of

a limb and soon ceases to retain even its form.

"3. Nor do we content ourselves with saying that the parts are

_mutually causes and effects_. This is the case in machinery. In a

clock, the pendulum by means of the escapement causes the descent of

the weight, the weight by the same escapement keeps up the motion of

the pendulum. But things of this kind may happen by accident. Stones

slide from a rock down the side of a hill and cause it to be smooth;

the smoothness of the slope causes stones still to slide. Yet no one

would call such a slide an organized system. The system is organized,

when the effects which take place among the parts are _essential to our

conception of the whole_; when the whole would not _be_ a whole, nor

the parts, parts, except these effects were produced; when the effects

not only happen in fact, but are included in the idea of the object;

when they are not only seen, but foreseen; not only expected, but

intended: in short when, instead of being causes and effects, they are

_ends_ and _means_, as they are termed in the above definition.

"Thus we necessarily include, in our idea of Organization, the notion

of an End, a Purpose, a Design; or, to use another phrase which has

been peculiarly appropriated in this case, a _Final Cause_. This idea

of a Final Cause is an essential condition in order to the pursuing our

researches respecting organized bodies....

"5. This has already been confirmed by reference to fact; in the

History of Physiology, I have shown that those who studied the

structure of animals were irresistibly led to the conviction that the

parts of this structure have each its end or purpose;--that each member

and organ not merely produces a certain effect or answers a certain

use, but is so framed as to impress us with the persuasion that it was

constructed _for_ that use;--that it was _intended_ to produce the

effect. It was there seen that this persuasion was repeatedly expressed

in the most emphatic manner by Galen;--that it directed the researches

and led to the discoveries of Harvey;--that it has always been dwelt

upon as a favourite contemplation, and followed as a certain guide, by

the best anatomists;--and that it is inculcated by the physiologists of

the profoundest views and most extensive knowledge of our own time. All

these persons have deemed it a most certain and important principle of

physiology, that in every organized structure, plant or animal, each

intelligible part has its allotted office:--each organ is designed

for its appropriate function:--that nature, in these cases, produces

nothing in vain: that, in short, each portion of the whole arrangement

has its _final cause_; an end to which it is adapted, and in this end,

the reason that it is where and what it is.

"6. This Notion of Design in organized bodies must, I say, be supplied

by the student of organization out of his own mind: a truth which will

become clearer if we attend to the most conspicuous and acknowledged

instances of _design_. The structure of the eye, in which the parts are

curiously adjusted so as to produce a distinct image on the retina, as

in an optical instrument;--the trochlear muscle of the eye, in which

the tendon passes round a support and turns back, like a rope round a

pulley;--the prospective contrivances for the preservation of animals,

provided long before they are wanted, as the milk of the mother, the

teeth of the child, the eyes and the lungs of the foetus:--these

arrangements, and innumerable others, call up in us a persuasion that

Design has entered into the plan of animal form and progress. And if we

bring in our minds this conception of Design, nothing can more fully

square with and fit it, than such instances as these. But if we did not

already possess the Idea of Design;--if we had not had our notion of

mechanical contrivance awakened by inspection of optical instruments,

or pulleys, or in some other way;--if we had never been conscious

ourselves of providing for the future;--if this were the case, we could

not recognize contrivance and prospectiveness in such instances as we

have referred to. The facts are, indeed, admirably in accordance with

these conceptions, when the two are brought together: but the facts and

the conceptions come together from different quarters--from without and

from within.

"7. We may further illustrate this point by referring to the relations

of travellers who tell us that when consummate examples of human

mechanical contrivance have been set before savages, they have appeared

incapable of apprehending them as proofs of design. This shows that

in such cases the Idea of Design had not been developed in the minds

of the people who were thus unintelligent: but it no more proves

that such an idea does not naturally and necessarily arise, in the

progress of men's minds, than the confused manner in which the same

savages apprehend the relations of space, or number, or cause, proves

that these ideas do not naturally belong to their intellects. All men

have these ideas; and it is because they cannot help referring their

sensations to such ideas, that they apprehend the world as existing in

time and space, and as a series of causes and effects. It would be very

erroneous to say that the belief of such truths is obtained by logical

reasoning from facts. And in like manner we cannot logically deduce

design from the contemplation of organic structures; although it is

impossible for us, when the facts are clearly before us, not to find a

reference to design operating in our minds."

It seems well to add here the practical comments made by Müller and

Kant on the passages quoted from them by Dr. Whewell in his first

Paragraph. Professor Müller writes thus (Baly's translation, Vol. I.,

p. 19):--"The manner in which their elements are combined, is not the

only difference between organic and inorganic bodies; there is in

living organic matter a principle constantly in action, the operations

of which are in accordance with a rational plan, so that the individual

parts which it creates in the body, are adapted to the design of the

whole; and this it is which distinguishes organism. Kant says, 'The

cause of the particular mode of existence of each part of a living body

resides in the whole, while in dead masses each part contains this

cause within itself.' This explains why a mere part separated from an

organized whole generally does not continue to live; why, in fact, an

organized body appears to be one and indivisible."

Before proceeding to the great Metaphysician, it may be interesting to

place in connection with this extract from Müller, certain views of

other distinguished physiologists. Sir C. Bell states his own opinions

on the connection of Life and Organization in this manner (_Appendix

to Paley's Natural Theology_ by Sir Charles Bell, commencing with pp.

211-13):--"Archdeacon Paley has, in these two introductory chapters,

given us the advantage of simple, but forcible language, with extreme

ingenuity, in illustration. But for his example, we should have felt

some hesitation in making so close a comparison between design,

as exhibited by the Creator in the animal structure, and the mere

mechanism, the operose and imperfect contrivances of human art.

"Certainly, there may be a comparison; for a superficial and rapid

survey of the animal body may convey the notion of an apparatus of

levers, pulleys, and ropes--which maybe compared with the spring,

barrel, and fusee, the wheels and pinions, of a watch. But if we study

the texture of animal bodies more curiously, and especially if we

compare animals with each other--for example, the simple structure of

the lower creatures with the complicated structure of those higher

in the scale of existence--we shall see, that in the lowest links

of the chain animals are so simple, that we should almost call them

homogeneous; and yet in these we find life, sensibility, and motion.

It is in the animals higher in the scale that we discover parts having

distinct endowments, and exhibiting complex mechanical relations. The

mechanical contrivances which are so obvious in man, for instance, are

the provisions for the agency and dominion of an intellectual power

over the materials around him.

"We mark this early, because there are authors who, looking upon this

complexity of mechanism, confound it with the presence of life itself,

and think it a necessary adjunct--nay, even that life proceeds from

it: whereas the mechanism which we have to examine in the animal body

is formed with reference to the necessity of acting upon or receiving

impressions from, things external to the body--a necessary condition of

our state of existence in a material world.

"Many have expressed their opinion very boldly on the necessary

relation between organization and life, who have never extended their

views to the system of nature. To place man, an intelligent and active

being, in this world of matter, he must have properties bearing

relation to that matter. The existence of matter implies an agency of

certain forces;--the particles of bodies must suffer attraction and

repulsion; and the bodies formed by the balance of these influences

upon their atoms or particles must have weight or gravity, and possess

mechanical properties. So must the living body, independently of its

peculiar endowments, have similar composition and qualities, and

have certain relations to the solids, fluids, gases, heat, light,

electricity, or galvanism, which are around it. "Without these, the

intellectual principle could receive no impulse--could have no agency

and no relation to the material world. The whole body must gravitate

or have weight; without which it could neither stand securely, nor

exert its powers on the bodies around it. But for this, muscular

power itself, and all the appliances which are related to that power,

would be useless. When, therefore, it is affirmed that organization

or construction is necessary to life, we may at least pause in giving

assent, under the certainty that we see another and a different reason

for the construction of the body. Thus we perceive, that as the body

must have weight to have power, so must it have mechanical contrivance,

or arrangement of its parts. As it must have weight, so must it be

sustained by a skeleton; and when we examine the bones, which give

the body height and shape, we find each column (for in that sense a

bone may be first taken) adjusted with the finest attention to the

perpendicular weight that it has to bear, as well as to the lateral

thrusts to which it is subject in the motions of the body."... Again

p. 405, seq.

.... "Mr. Hunter illustrated the subject thus:--Death is apparent or

real. A man dragged out of the water, and to appearance dead, is,

notwithstanding, alive, according to the definition we have given.

The living endowments of the individual parts are not exhausted. The

sensibility may be yet roused; the nerves which convey the impression

may yet so far retain their property, that other motor nerves may be

influenced through them; the muscles may be once more concatenated, and

drawn into a simultaneous action. That vibratory motion which we have

just said may be witnessed in a muscle recently cut out of the body,

may be so excited in a class of muscles--for example, in the muscles

of inspiration--that the apparently dead draws an inspiration. Here is

the first of a series of vital motions which excites the others, and

the heart beats, and the blood circulates, and the sensibilities are

restored; and the mind, which was in the condition of one asleep, is

roused into activity and volition, and all the common phenomena of life

are resuscitated. Such is the series of phenomena which is presented in

apparent death from suffocation; but, if the death has been from an

injury of some vital part, the sensibilities and properties of action

in the rest of the body, though resident for a time, have lost their

relations, and there is a link wanting in that chain of vital actions

which restores animation. Here, then, there can be no resuscitation;

and the death of the individual parts of the body rapidly succeeds the

apparent death of the body.

"We perceive now that our original conception of life and the terms

we use respecting it, in common parlance, are but ill-adapted to this

subject when philosophically considered. We early associate life and

motion so intimately that the one stands for the other. If we then

investigate by anatomy, we find a curious and minute mechanism in

operation, an engine and tubes for circulation, and, in short, an

internal motion of every particle of the frame; and the anatomist is

also led into the error of associating in his mind life with motion and

organization. But when we consider the subject more closely, and divest

ourselves of habits and prejudices associated with words, we perceive

that, without making any vain and even dangerous attempt at definition,

life is first to be contemplated as the peculiarity distinguishing

one of two classes into which all matter must be arranged; the one

class, which embraces all living matter, is subject to a controlling

influence which resists the chemical agents, and produces a series of

revolutions, in an order and at periods prescribed; the other, dead

matter, is subject to lapse and change under chemical agency and the

common laws of matter.