CAUSATION.
This sixth Chapter occupies a totally different sphere of Thought from
the one preceding it. Instead of examining the world as it now is, we
shall inquire what its present existence necessarily presupposes. Time,
in the ordinary meaning of the word, is no factor in our calculation.
We have to deal with Time's antecedents.
These words sound like a long farewell to our companion and
auxiliary,--Natural Science! Geology, Palæontology, Astronomy, are
unanimous in telling us of periods immeasurably remote. But, they are
all silent on two more distant and profound subjects--a Beginning
and an Eternity. In the world best known to us, vast cycles--each
comprehending many ages of life--- point back to preceding cycles made
up of ages more numerous still, during which the world was absolutely
void of life. Upon that primæval fabric, are graved long records of
changes beyond the reach of Thought. A single epoch,--the era when our
globe, an incandescent mass of matter, was cooling in its flight,--is
alone sufficient to exhaust all our imaginative powers. Did water
first surround the glowing orb as a heated vapour? Did clouds first
descend upon it like a fiery rain-storm? Suppose some sentient creature
floating through ether to look upon the unformed world,--how wild, how
weird must have been the spectacle! How different from what earth and
ocean may appear to any similar Intelligence now.
Science discoursing upon such topics is more poetical than the most
sublime poetry. And the science that does speak of them is the widest
of all sciences, After certain cycles of ages, the Biologist hands us
over to the Mineralogist and the Chemist. After certain other cycles,
we give up those guides in turn; and gauge nature by measuring mass,
speed, force, comparing our own orb with kindred orbs, and trying to
collect what the comparison can say respecting the earliest conditions
of the Universe. But, all this is no answer to our proposed question
concerning Time's antecedents. "The territory of physics" says a
well-known physicist, "is wide, but it has its limits from which we
look with vacant gaze into the region beyond."[211] And these words
are evidently true. Time serves, in this respect, as the index of our
incapacity. We travel back from the period of Man to the period of a
ferny coal field, a trilobite or an Eozoon, and from thence to the
period when nebulous light-masses shone out through illimitable space.
No doubt, when we have learned to contemplate such vapoury states
of attenuated matter, we have learned a great deal. Modern analysis
finds in them the elementary constituents of our own planetary system;
the same elements which glow with greater apparent brilliancy in our
Sun. But this is not all. To the sober eye of science, those fires,
which burned before stars were kindled, display in their splendours
materials entering into the composition of our transitory frames;
materials required continually by our bodies and by our productive
arts. We live, if modern science may be trusted, by the assimilation of
elements now shining in the celestial sphere; elements which glittered
there through long cycles of ages before our Earth was. And we employ
the same elements in the common industries of civilisation.[212] This
bewildering thought seems to link us with that Sun, which is the glory
of our day, with those wandering lamps which make night beautiful; and
with all the hosts of heaven, which have always fascinated the upward
gaze of man, and have sometimes won his heart to worship them.
The more overwhelming these thoughts appear, the grander is the
emphasis of our yet unanswered question. We have seen that we are able
to travel backwards--not in fancy, but in reason--from era to era,
however incalculable the measurement of each era may be; and, when
our travels have reached their utmost goal, we find the marvellous
Continuity of Nature still unbroken. And this very fact, is, in itself,
a sufficient proof that we have not approached Time's antecedents.
What we have really done, is to carry the Present with us into an
immeasurably distant Past. We know not yet what is presupposed by
both,--we cannot say what went before them.
It is _very_ important for us to be thoroughly clear upon the result.
For there is a sort of unreflecting idea afloat, that if vast periods
of Time are conceived, the whole Universe is conceived also. All seems
explained, since everything may come to pass in Time! So it may, in
_one_ sense. Time gives opportunity; but then there must be a moving
power[213] to work _in_ the opportunity. Let it therefore be distinctly
borne in mind, that Time causes nothing. To dispense with a spring of
action, is to imagine that Time will stop the river's flow, or that the
river will stop without a cause in time:--
"Rusticus expectat, dum defluat amnis; at ille
Labitur et labetur in omne volubilis ævum."
In reality, Time accounts neither for good nor for evil, neither for
the end nor yet for the beginning of any single work.
And the same is true respecting any chain, however long, made up of
antecedents and consequents, however numerous. We see in them movements
propagating movements; but then we are obliged to ask, what moved the
first of them? The reader may remember Professor Huxley's picture of
a cosmic vapour, from a knowledge of which a sufficient Intelligence
might have predicted our present world. Looking further, we find this
cosmic vapour to be composed (as he says) of molecules possessing
forces or properties; in other words, what he really described was a
potential Universe; not a Cause, but an already caused production.
What, then, caused it?
It was not the Professor's business,--nor is it the business of any
Physiologist or of any Physicist, to explain what lies beyond the
territories of his science. Consequently he does _not_ account for the
existence of this "primitive nebulosity." The "sufficient Intelligence"
is only spoken of a possible interpreter or prophet. And Professor
Huxley is right and wise in his reticence.
Professor Tyndall is equally wise and right in telling us that "Science
knows much of this intermediate phase of things that we call nature,
of which it is the product; but science knows nothing of the origin or
destiny of nature."[214]
There is always a rightness and wisdom in stating a limit, and an
issue, _distinctly_. No one endowed with clearness of vision, will
think the Universe as likely to be adequately accounted for by an
eternal nebula, as by an eternity of Mind. No one will exactly state
to himself, the meaning of such words as Chance, Time, Law, and others
of a like description; and, with those meanings _in remembrance_,
pronounce that any or all of them can explain the origin of anything.
But by popular lecturers and article-makers, immeasurable series of
conditions are sometimes mentioned in a manner which almost implies
that, because immeasurable, the speaker or writer supposes that such
conditions may possibly be creative.
Any reader of current literature will scarcely need reminding, that
most modern _savants_ usually acquiesce in, and feel burdened by, a
sense of "the Inscrutable." And therefore, when summing up the results
of scientific truth, they honestly and consistently reduce their
disciples to an _alternative_,--an alternative of which no disciple of
any special science ought reasonably to complain. Choose, they tell
him, between confessing, "here is the Incomprehensible--here I rest;"
or, if you please, endeavouring to "find other means of knowledge,
which we do _not_ pretend to furnish." This is no more than to say, and
say fairly, "Be satisfied with such information as we can give,--or,
if you please, inquire elsewhere." And this seems reasonable; for
who would assert that a Professor of Poetry ought to give competent
instruction in the Calculus?
We may assume that every student of Natural Theology has made up his
mind to "inquire elsewhere." And it is the part of an earnest man so
to do. Were not the Future linked to the Present, we all might feel
less earnest, less persevering, less anxious for inquiry. Yet, if
there be a Future beyond our Present, we at once perceive a weight of
reason beyond all powers of estimate, _why_ such a connecting chain
must certainly exist. All our experience, every argument from analogy,
and all morality, fall into one and the same scale. But of this, more
hereafter. There is no doubt that our wisdom and our duty coincide with
our natural instincts, in bringing us to this resolution. We may not
be able to learn _all_ we could wish of that Future which follows our
present; but what we can truly learn is to us a treasure beyond price.
Let us, therefore, proceed as fellow-pilgrims in the search.
It is an undeniable fact--one amongst the hard and actual facts which
life teaches--that, in the whole of our experience, we never know of
more than one kind of cause,--a cause, that is, in the true sense
of _originating_ any event or series of events. Nothing can be more
certain as respects our knowledge of the material world. From this
point of view, Sir J. Herschel describes Brown's book on "Cause and
Effect" as "a work of great acuteness and subtlety of reasoning on
some points, but in which the whole train of argument is vitiated
by one enormous oversight; the omission, namely, of a _distinct and
immediate personal consciousness of causation_ in his enumeration of
that _sequence of events_, by which the volition of the mind is made to
terminate in the motion of material objects. I mean the consciousness
of _effort_, accompanied with _intention thereby_ to accomplish an
end, as a thing entirely distinct from mere _desire_ or _volition_ on
the one hand, and from mere spasmodic contraction of muscles on the
other."[215]
This causation we experience continually. A heavy stone falls from
a wall, and kills a man. No one threw it. We say it fell--or, as a
physicist might express it, obeyed the law of gravitation. But we may
remember that from the tower of Thebez "a certain woman cast a piece
of a millstone upon Abimelech's head and all to break his scull." We
form quite a different opinion of this event. We say, here is a case
in which "the volition of the mind is made to terminate in the motion
of a material object." Some might accuse, others excuse, the woman of
Thebez; but all would argue that she caused the death of Abimelech.
Your boy wants to beat a chair which has fallen upon him; you tell him
why he must not, and all you say is sound philosophy. He also wants to
kill his cat for devouring his canary bird; and again you philosophize
correctly. But, suppose your young philosopher for his own pleasure
wrings his canary bird's neck? The chair fell by mechanical law--the
cat obeyed the law of her hungry instinct--but your boy is culpable. He
was the true cause of his own cruel act,--in a word he was responsible.
And this same truth of Causation, involved in Responsibility, and
constituting one of its necessary factors, is like Mind in Mr. Mill,--a
truth which we _must_ accept--inexplicable, but unquestionably real.
We _know_ that Will is a Cause,--and we do _not_ actually know of
any other cause in the wide Universe. The fact comes home to us in a
variety of ways. Was Thurtell the cause or the physical antecedent of
Weare's death? If not the cause, we ought never to think him, or any
murderer, slaver, torturer, or tyrant, at all in the wrong; neither can
we hold them in any manner responsible.
Let the reader put this case to himself in as many different shapes as
he can. The result will always come to the same issue. We may suppose
a Nebula, Law, Force, so arranged as to be the physical antecedent of
a world. And nothing can be more marvellous than the idea of such an
arrangement! But we cannot imagine any existence really causing an
effect, save one,--a Will. Therefore, if we wish to go beyond Nebula,
Law, or Force, which are merely physical antecedents,--and ask what
caused one or all of them, we are obliged (so far as we are disciples
of experience) to say their Cause was a Will. And when we say this, we
allege _a sufficient reason_.
A few paragraphs back, we availed ourselves of the authoritative
verdict pronounced by scientific thinkers, on the question of what is,
and what is not, from their point of view, knowable. And we saw _where_
physics terminated,--that is, in a _Nebula_. This is their _limit_.
Yet, there is nothing to hinder a physicist from becoming also a
Natural Theologian. It is not every man who will rest in a negative
conclusion. Professor Baden Powell was among the malcontents in this
respect; and we desire now to quote from his writings some passages
referred to in the argument of a former Chapter.
But before doing so, it would be unfair to conceal that a tribute of
gratitude appears due to writers who mark the boundary of their own
thought, however little we ourselves desire to stay acquiescently
within its limitations. There is honesty in their act;--there is an
incitement for other men to try out their lines of thinking also.
Finally, all such writers are unexceptionable witnesses to the interest
and reality belonging to a separate science of Natural Theology. In
all these respects, they occupy a totally different position from
the indifferentist or sneering sceptic; and it would be injustice
to confound such broad distinctions of moral aspect. With this
acknowledgment let us return to Baden Powell.
In his "Connexion of Natural and Divine Truth"[216] he writes thus:--
"The study of _physical causes_ (understood _in the simple meaning_
which we have before endeavoured to fix,) while it supplies the
unassailable evidence of design and adjustment, as unavoidably
carries us thence onward to the idea of an Intelligence from which
that design emanated, and of an agency by which that adjustment
was produced. It brings us, in a word, to recognise an influence
of another kind, of an order _different from_, and far above that
of _physical causes_ or material action:--to acknowledge a sublime
_moral cause_, the universally operating source of creative power and
providential wisdom.[bd]... We have already noticed, in other cases,
the ambiguities arising from the diversity of meaning attached to the
same term "cause." Here, then, it becomes more peculiarly necessary if
we adopt the popular expression, "the First Cause," to recur carefully
to the distinction, if we would preserve any clearness of reasoning.
"We refer to senses of the term absolutely distinct _in kind_. Nor
is it a term of mere verbal difference. It is of importance, whether
in guarding against fallacies in evidence or in answering the cavils
of scepticism.... When we ascend to the contemplation of creative
intelligence, the distinction is not between a prior and a subsequent
train of material action, but between _physical order_ and _moral
volition_. It will thus be apparent that the metaphor so often used
of the _chain_ of natural causes _whose last and highest link_ is its
immediate connexion with the Deity;--the very phrase of a succession
of _secondary_ causes traced up to a _first cause_,--and the like, (so
commonly employed,) are founded on a totally mistaken analogy.
"If we retain such metaphorical language at all, it would be a more
just mode of speaking to describe the Deity as the Divine artificer
of the whole chain,--not to connect Him with its links;--to represent
the secondary causes as combined into joint operation by His power and
will,--but not to make Him one of them." And again;--"If we require
the aid of metaphor in attempting to give utterance to those vast
conceptions with which the mind is overpowered, instead of speaking of
the first and secondary links in a chain of causation, and the like,
let us rather recur to the analogy of the _arch_ (before introduced,)
and we shall be adopting at once a more just and expressive figure,
and shall here run no risk of speaking as if we confounded the stones
with the builder,--their mutually supporting force with the skill of
the architect who adjusted them."[217]
What Baden Powell called "physical causation," is now more commonly
known as invariable antecedency, or invariable succession. Antecedents
and consequents are phenomena of the natural world,--and the connection
between them is their _Law_.
Now, suppose we take the Alphabet to represent a series of these
antecedents and consequents, the latter invariably following the
former; it does not, (as far as argument goes,) in the least
signify what the series really is, any more than when we calculate
algebraically. But to make things plain, let the Alphabet represent
26 cycles of succession; each cycle containing as many millions of
years, or ages, as you choose to grant for the duration of the Natural
Universe. We may state the problem thus,--the _law_ of succession being
assumed in our series as constant.
If we have Z, there certainly must have been Y, and _conversely_;--
If there were no Y, there cannot possibly be Z. We go on,--
If Y, then certainly X;
If no X, then Y is impossible.
As we know Z in fact, we get back to Y; and, as we find Y, we
retrogress to X.
And the retrogression continues, say till we reach B,--
If B, certainly A;
If no A, then B is impossible.
But, what are we to say of A?
If A then certainly--_what_?
If no _what_?--then A is impossible.
It does not signify how far the chain of physical law may extend.
From its very essence and definition, you must arrive finally at a
first link. Or, in other words, the Continuity of Nature may go back
through Time immeasurable,--Time will after all lead you to Time's
antecedents. And when you have arrived at your first link, and inquire
_what_ must necessarily have preceded Time, it is well to consider the
_sort_ of account which alone you can accept, _because_ it alone will
_sufficiently_ satisfy your reason.
You want, then, something which properly accounts first for A; _next_
for the link between A and B; and _thirdly_, by consequence, for the
whole Alphabet.
If, with this statement in mind, the reader turns back to the extracts
made from Powell, he will see the force of several points strongly
put by the Professor. He will see, for example, how inevitably
_physical_ causation carries us back to _another_, and very _diverse_
Causation,--diverse in _kind_--not simply different in degree. Also,
how the idea of Cause in this latter sense, takes us quite _out_ of the
physical nexus. And, further, that the only admissible Conception of
a First Universal Cause, must be a conception of something which will
not only bring about A, but likewise _account_ for the entire series,
linked together and consecutive, into one resulting _Whole_. For the
Whole itself; in brief for the Many and the One.
We have now to ask further, what Facts can tell us respecting these two
kinds of Causation. And let us again employ our letters, but rather in
a different way.
Suppose P stands for a fact, which may also be described as a natural
phenomenon. To account for P we go back to O, retrogress to N, M, and
so on, as shewn already.
Again, suppose another fact which cannot be described as a natural
phenomenon. Let us try whether P may, with equal propriety, stand for a
human production or performance. That is--whether, instead of being a
mere _phenomenal_ fact, it may also be spoken of as an _act_.
We want then to account for P, _thus_ considered. A striking
circumstance appears at once evident, that to find the "_why_" of human
activity we do not look to any antecedent;--we look to a _consequent_,
or a series of consequences. The question we ask is,--with what _view_
P became an act? In other words, we try to account for P, _not_ by _O_,
_N_, _M_, etc., but by _Q_, _R_, _S_, etc. For example: let P represent
a murder. The crime was done for the sake of money, and for things
which money will purchase; that is, the _consequents_,--_Q_, _R_, _S_,
and so on, forming a series designed;--gains and purposes, long or
short. But, no one would say that _another_ series _foregoing_ (O, N,
M) _necessitated the act_;--that they were the _certain antecedents
of a necessary consequent_ (P) _the murder_. If it were so, we should
have to congratulate the murderer for having been _forced_ into so
profitable a performance, and we should also have to leave him in the
peaceable enjoyment of his profits.
Acts, therefore,--or _volitional_ facts--move _forwards_ through
a series of _consequents_; while phenomena--that is, _physical_
facts--run backwards through a series of _antecedents_.
If pressed to find a Cause for an act, we are never in a position to
say,--
If P, then certainly O;
If no O, then P is impossible.
We say, on the contrary, that the _Cause_ of the act was
_Volitional_,--that is, it was done by an _agent or person acting_. And
further, that the _consequents_ (Q, R, S, etc.) represent the _purpose_
of the actor or agent, and that he is responsible for having adopted
them as his prevalent motives or inducements.
But from these necessities of thought which hold alike as abstract
truths, and in practical experience, several inferences follow:--
A volitional cause or agent, may stand before a series of
consequents;--but cannot be ranged after such a series.
Our series represented by the Alphabet, was taken to be a series of
_invariable sequency_. That is, each factor (letter) presupposed
antecedents, which _necessitated_ every factor in succession. Therefore
we cannot represent any agent or volitional Cause, by an element (or
letter) of that series at all. Nor yet his act. It follows on no such
chain of antecedents. It is done _in view_ of certain consequents.
If, therefore, we ask what can be conceived respecting the causation of
the Universe,--its cause must (as Powell says), be placed absolutely
outside and prior to the whole series. In other words,--a volitional
or First cause can never belong to the physical chain of antecedent
and consequent, bound together by natural law. And the reason is
plain: in no true sense can such Cause ever be a necessary consequent
at all. Such a Cause calls into existence, not only A, but the whole
consecutive alphabet, representing cycles of millions of ages. Not the
world's primæval state alone,--- but the whole law-connected Universe.
Thus, First Cause, and Secondary cause, apply not to difference of
sequency alone,--but to an _intrinsic and essential distinction_. And,
this distinction is so vast, that between the World's First Cause, and
any given Secondary cause, there is fixed a gulf of separation as wide
as the whole potential Universe.
Another way of looking at the subject of Causation may appear simpler
to some minds.
Let the reader recal the problems of Idealism and Realism already
discussed. He will also remember what Mr. Masson calls "the paramount
result" to Mill and Hamilton alike;--the inevitable persuasion all men
have of their own distinctness from an external world of things and
persons surrounding them.
With this accepted result in remembrance, let the reader ask himself
the further question, _how_ he became originally impressed with the
grand division of that world of objectivity,--how he first separated
_Persons_ from _Things_? He will account for the conception in some
such way as this:--As a child, he was injured both by his nurse and
his nursery table. He discovered that the table had been placed where
it stood; but that his nurse struck him with a passionate intention
of compelling him to obey her, against his own will. And, thus, in
the succession of little troubles and events perpetually going on,
he learned to distinguish them all into two broad classes: events
dependent on previous circumstances, such as the position of the
table; and events productive of intentional consequences, such as the
ill temper of his nurse. The first class of events he could _control_
by a change of outside conditions;--he could either move the table
or keep his body out of its way. But, the nurse he had to humour and
conciliate; and he soon found, to his cost, that very often his efforts
to win her favour were unavailing, because her temper was so very, very
bad. And this whole process of Childish reasoning became confirmed
in after life by his practical reason, and verified by finding it
work well every day. The child who thus ceases to blame the table for
hurting him, but blames the temper of the nurse, is the "father of the
Man," who praises or blames only when he discovers a true _cause_; and
steadily ascribes _Causation_ to a _Will_. And, employ what words we
choose, this causative power is the grand tenable distinction between
Persons and Things. And no amount of refined theory will ever induce us
to act upon any other supposition. We remain fixed in our belief that a
true Cause must, without exception, be always a true Personality.
It is worth while observing, likewise, with what emphasis of words,
mankind marks its sense of this fact. We all say that we see such and
such a _cause_,--or such and such a _will_ at work. And the energy of
expression is justified by analysis. For, when we see an orange or a
cathedral, what we really perceive through our eye, may be summed as
coloured surface, outline, light and shade. And seeing this, we say
that we see the _solid_;--that is, seeing effects, we maintain that we
see the cause. Moreover, this is true, if we remember that seeing is a
compound process; the eye of the mind looking _through_ the eye of the
body. And we ventured to use the same language in our last chapter, and
also to justify it, when we spoke of seeing the Intelligible. The man,
therefore, is not far wrong who says that he sees God everywhere.
Look at the subject in whatever point of view we will,--as an abstract
question--as a calculable problem--or an affair of plain common
sense,--the result must finally come to one and the same thing. There
can be no Cause,--no First to stand before (not in) the series of
sequences, except a Being, Will, Personality.
Now as a matter of truth, there must necessarily exist some sufficient
account of the Universe. Physical Science is right to speak of it as
unknowable[218] by Physical investigation. It cannot lie _in_ the
physical series,--it must stand _prior_ to the whole. It admits of no
antecedent; but the sum of all existence is its consequent. Therefore,
the sufficient account is a first Being, Will, and Personality. We
must accept the result and acknowledge its truth, because it is an
inevitable fact, if the question is argued upon the ground of other
facts practically known, and not of theory, conjecture, or supposed
possibilities. But it involves theoretical difficulties which we must
acknowledge to be inexplicable. We cannot, however, forget that many
other truths and matters of fact are inexplicable also.[219]
A circumstance equally true, and equally incapable of theoretical
explanation, may be stated as follows. If we revert, once more, to our
representative letters of the alphabet, it will be recollected that
the letter P was taken to represent a crime,--a murder for the sake of
gain. P had for its consequents _Q_, _R_, _S_, but did not depend on
the antecedents _O_, _N_, _M_; it was introduced extraneously into the
series. In other words, the crime entailed a number of _effects_, which
had in reality been premeditated by the murderer; while, _in itself_,
it was to be _accounted_ for only as the act of a Volitional Cause or
Agent. And the remarkable point to us now, is the circumstance that
such a _designed series of events_ can thus be introduced into the
order of nature by _man's spontaneous choice_. These determinations
are in fact alterations in the ordinary course of Nature; and
contradictions of its absolutely invariable sequency.[be] This fact,
again, appears to be theoretically inexplicable, yet is practically
true; and we _verify_ its truth by determinations of the deepest
interest and importance to our individual selves. Sometimes, men almost
stand aghast at the consequences of choosing obstinately; and, through
years of sorrow, accuse their own, and their friends' pertinacity.
Possibly, the difficulty in theory may be in some degree softened by
the admissions of physical philosophers,--inventors and craftsmen
of all sorts,--respecting the considerable _allowance_ to be made
for "functioning" their abstract calculations. The necessity of such
allowance distinctly proves, that, even in the most exact of applied
sciences, pure theory and practical result do not commonly coincide.
And, when we look to the concerns of human society, it must be
confessed that no amount of sovereign power, insight of statesmen, or
experience grounded on precedent or on knowledge of mankind, does away
with the absolute necessity of allowing what is called a "_margin_"
for the actual working of any law, scheme, contrivance, or political
constitution. Speculative people are apt to find this truth verified to
their cost and disappointment; and, perhaps, one reason for the general
success of English administrators in government and colonization,
is their habit of making _very large_ allowances throughout all the
practical arrangements. In managing the world, they consider the
_non-calculable_ element of Will,--and allow for the way in which it
breaks in, with sometimes tremendous effect, upon the otherwise regular
current of affairs.
But if this be true of the _human_ Will, what ought to be said
of the _Divine_? If we, with our limited power and understanding, can
thus interrupt many series of events in our world, what shall we say
concerning the Volitional Cause of the whole Universe? Concerning a
Personality, which was before the chain of phenomenal antecedent and
consequent began, and Which (as we have shewn must hold true of a First
Cause), actually willed the whole _as a whole_, and arranged the end
from the beginning? Recurring to our selected figure of the Alphabet,
this primary Will, this incomprehensible Person is, in our view, the
Alpha and Omega, the Beginning and the End, and beside Him there is
none other.[220]
So far, therefore, as a consideration of the world goes, and of mankind
as existing in the world, arguments from analogy would lead to some
positive expectation of Miracles. Our belief in the Uniformity of
Nature does not exclude them; and our practical experience gives rise
to a _probability_ of their occurrence. When, however, we lift up
our eyes to the Divine Mind as Supreme Reason, Miracles appear to us
inconceivable without an adequate occasion. For we ourselves strive
to act on _true_, _fitting_, and _reasonable_ grounds of purpose; and
shall we think less of Him, "Who teacheth Man knowledge"? But to pursue
this last topic as it deserves, would carry us away from the domain of
Natural Theology, and into that of Theology true and proper.
Our business has lain with the Natural world, human nature itself
included. And in examining the successional chain, we have perceived
that it is not forged of Adamant. Yet there is so much connection and
unity running throughout it, that we may with the greatest justice
speak of the _order_ and _course_ of nature. And, perhaps the _highest_
kind of evidence to the being and attributes of God conceivable by
us, lies in the concurrence of _two_ separate kinds of proof; both
resting on the reality of Divine _causation_ viewed _relatively_ to
the World we inhabit. The one,--when we trace (as in this Chapter we
have shewn that men ought to trace), the chain of natural sequence
up to a Personal First Cause. The other,--when we find reason to
believe that the First Cause and Creator of the world, has seen fit to
interfere with its orderly course in a manner which distinguishes His
intervention from our common every-day experience.
For such intervention, _we_ could probably conceive no greater fitness,
no nobler occasion, than the purpose of raising Men above themselves,
and assuring them that there are more things in Heaven and Earth than
are dreamed of in their Philosophies. And what human dream, vision, or
philosophy, could ever have foreseen the things which God hath prepared
for them that love Him?
FOOTNOTES:
[211] Tyndall's _Earlier Thoughts_; in his _Essays_, p. 72. Dr. Tyndall
is never weary of repeating this useful truth, and we may honour him
for so doing. The following references are to his last very popular
work, and in each place the same thought will be found differently
expressed according to the difference of subject-matter. _Fragments of
Science_, pp. 93, 105, 121, 163, 442.
[212] George Stephenson used to watch the speed of his locomotive, and
pleasantly remark that he was utilizing the solar heat of the great
coal-period. The words were his own. The idea was Herschel's.
[213] "Time is no agent, as some people appear to think it, that it
should accomplish anything of itself. Looking at a heap of stones
for a thousand years, will do no more toward making a house of them,
than looking at it for one moment. The cause is obvious. Time, when
applied to works of any kind, being only a succession of relevant acts,
each furthering the work to be accomplished, it is clear that even
an infinite succession of irrelevant, and consequently useless acts,
would no more achieve or forward the completion of it, than an infinite
number of jumps in the same place would advance one toward a journey's
end; for there is a motion without progress, in time as well as space;
where that has often remained stationary which appeared to us, in
leaving it behind, to have receded."--_Guesses at Truth._ First Ed.,
pp. 61-2.
[214] _Fragments of Science_, p. 442. The passage has been referred to
before--and its _pith_ alone is given here--_i.e._ the central sentence.
[215] _Astronomy_, Chapter viii. init., note p. 264. Ed. 1850.
[216] Page 178, seq.
[bd] Compare our summary of Powell's argument on this point, pp. 173-4
_ante_. "We see the necessity of a Moral cause as distinguished from a
physical antecedent, when we survey Nature. But Nature does not contain
the idea in an _explicit_ shape. She only necessitates its acceptance."
[217] Having before quoted at some length from this distinguished
Professor, it seems needless to add anything here, except that the same
sentiments will be found reasserted in his later works.--See _Spirit of
Inductive Philosophy_, pp. 152-3, and 175-9; and compare Chapter II.
_ante_, Additional notes D and E, pp. 103-107, where these passages are
in part quoted and commented on.
[218] Of course, if any man pronounces anything _absolutely_
unknowable, he says virtually, "my knowledge equals the sum total of
all knowledge."
[219] Every one who writes this word, must feel tempted to ask why
such a condition attaches to any truth. This Essay avoids metaphysical
inquiries; we must, therefore, rest content with having plainly shewn
that it _does_ attach to the _most certain and necessary_ of _all_
truths.
[be] The reader may be pleased to recal Professor Huxley's two
necessary beliefs--necessary, that is, for making the world we live
in less miserable and less ignorant. First, that the Order of Nature
is practically ascertainable. Secondly, that our Volition counts for
something as a condition in the course of Events. (_Lay Sermons_, p.
159,--already quoted pp. 247 and 8 _ante_.)
Evidently, to count for _anything_, Volition must produce _effects_;
that is, cause certain _changes_ in the natural order of things. This
principle, therefore, is clearly asserted by the Professor,--and its
consequences follow by logical necessity, as here deduced.
Mr. Huxley's idea of the Order of Nature is also coincident with the
view of it taken in this Chapter.
The present writer is glad to mark these undesigned coincidences of
thought. "Lay Sermons" had not reached him when this Essay was sent to
the Oxford Registrar. Neither had he seen the Professor's Article in
the Fortnightly Review.
_Addition._--The doctrine in most complete antagonism with Mr. Huxley's
position is described as follows by Dr. Carpenter:--
"The most thorough-going expression of this doctrine will be found in
the 'Letters of the Laws of Man's Nature and Development,' by Henry G.
Atkinson and Harriet Martineau. A few extracts will suffice to show the
character of this system of Philosophy. 'Instinct, passion, thought,
etc., are effects of organized substances.' 'All causes are material
causes.' 'In material conditions I find the origin of all religions,
all philosophies, all opinions, all virtues, all "spiritual conditions
and influences," in the same manner that I find the origin of all
diseases and of all insanities in material conditions and causes.'
'I am what I am; a creature of necessity; I claim neither merit nor
demerit.' 'I feel that I am as completely the result of my nature, and
impelled to do what I do, as the needle to point to the north, or the
puppet to move according as the string is pulled.' 'I cannot alter my
will, or be other than what I am, and cannot deserve either reward or
punishment.'" Carpenter. _Mental Physiology_, p. 4.
[220] Horace would have felt himself bewildered by some modern
Philosophies. He says:--
"Unde nil majus generatur ipso
_Nec_ viget quidquam _simile_ aut _secundum_."