Nothing could have come by chance, it is said, and therefore it is
inferred that this universe must have been created by a God.
Let us view this famous argument for a moment. God is something or
nothing. To say he is nothing is to say there is no God. If he is
something, he is not merely a property or quality, but an existence
per se--an entity, a substance, whether material or immaterial is
unimportant. If he is a substance, a material, or spiritual being,
there must be order, harmony, and adaptation, or fitness, in his
divine nature, to enable him to perceive, reflect, design, and
execute his plans. If Deity does not reason, does not cogitate, but
perceives truth without the labor of investigation and contrivance,
he must still possess an adaptation or fitness thus to perceive,
as well as to execute his design.
To say God is without order, harmony, and adaptation, or fitness,
is to say he is a mere chaos--worse than that imaginary chaos that
theologians tell us would result if divine agency were withdrawn from
the universe. If a being without order, harmony, and adaptation,
or a divine chaos, can create an orderly universe then there is no
consistency in saying that unintelligent matter could not have produced
the objects that we behold. If order, harmony, and adaptation do
exist in the divine mind (or in the substance which produces thought,
power, and purpose in the divine mind) they must be eternal, for that
which constitutes the essential nature of a God must be the eternal
basis of his being. If the order, harmony, and adaptation in God are
co-existent with him, are eternal, they must be independent of design,
for that which never began to exist could not have been produced, and
does not therefore admit of design. If order, harmony, and adaptation
are independent of design in the divine mind, it is certain that order,
harmony, and adaptation exist, and are not evidence of a pre-existent,
designing intelligence.
If order, harmony, and adaptation exist, which were not produced by
design, which are therefore not evidence of design, it is unreasonable
and illogical to infer designing intelligence from the fact alone
that order, harmony, and adaptation exist in nature. Therefore
an intelligent Deity cannot be inferred from the order, harmony,
and adaptation in nature. If the order, harmony, and adaptation in
Deity, to produce his thoughts, and to execute his plans, are eternal,
why may not the formation of matter into worlds, and the evolutions
of the various forms of vegetable and animal life on this globe
be the result of the ceaseless action of self-existent matter in
accordance with an inherent eternal principle of adaptation? Is it
more reasonable to suppose the universe was created, or constructed
by a being in whom exists the most wonderful order and harmony,
and the most admirable adaptation to construct a universe (which
order, harmony, and adaptation could have had no designing cause),
than to suppose that the universe itself in its entirety is eternal,
and the self-producing cause of all the manifestations we behold?
Is a God uncaused, and who made everything from nothing, more easy
of belief than a universe uncaused and existing according to its own
inherent nature? Is it wonderful that matter should be self-existent;
that it should possess the power to form suns, planets, and construct
that beautiful ladder of life that reaches from the lowest forms
of the vegetable kingdom up to man? How much more wonderful that a
great being should exist, without any cause, who had no beginning,
and who is infinitely more admirable than the universe itself.
Again, the plan of a work is as much evidence of intelligence and
design as the work which embodies the plan. The plan of a steam
engine in the mind of Fitch--the plan of the locomotive in the
mind of Stephenson--was as much evidence of design as the piece of
machinery after its mechanical construction. If God be an omniscient
being--a being who knows everything; to whose knowledge no addition
can be made--his plans must be eternal--without beginning, and
therefore uncaused. If God's plans are not eternal; if from time to
time new plans originate in his mind, there must be an addition to
his knowledge, and if his knowledge admits of addition, it must be
finite. But if his plans had no beginning; if, like himself, they
are eternal, they must, like him, be independent of design. Now, the
plan of a thing, we have already seen, is as much evidence of design
as the object which embodies the plan. Since the plans of Deity are
no proof of design that produced them (for they are supposed to be
eternal), the plan of this universe, of course, was no evidence of
a designing intelligence that produced it. But since the plan of
the universe is as much evidence of design as the universe itself,
and since the former is no evidence of design, it follows that design
cannot be inferred from the existence of the universe.
The absurdity of the a posteriori argument of a God consists in
the assumption that what we call order and adaptation in nature are
evidence of design, when it is evident that whether there be a God or
not, order and adaptation must have existed from eternity, and are not
therefore necessarily proof of a designing cause. The reasoning of the
theologian is like that of the Hindoo in accounting for the position
of the earth. "Whatever exists must have some support," said he. The
earth exists, and is therefore supported. He imagined it resting on the
back of an elephant. The elephant needing some support, he supposed
rested on the back of a huge tortoise. He forgot that according to
his own premise that whatever exists must have some support, that
the tortoise should rest on something. The inconclusiveness of his
reasoning is apparent to a child. Whatever exists is supported. The
earth exists. Therefore, the earth is supported; it rests on an
elephant; the elephant rests on a tortoise; the tortoise exists,
but nothing is said about its support.
The theologian says order, harmony, and adaptation are evidence
of a designing intelligence that produced them. The earth and its
productions show order, harmony, and adaptation. Therefore, the earth
and its productions have been produced by an intelligent designer. Just
as the Hindoo stopped reasoning when he imagined the earth on an
elephant, and the elephant on a tortoise, so the theologian stops
reasoning when he says, God made the world. But as surely as from
the premise that whatever exists must have some support, follows the
conclusion that the tortoise rests on something, as rests on it the
elephant, does it follow from the proposition that order, harmony,
and adaptation are proof of an intelligent designer, that the order,
harmony, and adaptation in the Deity to produce the effects ascribed
to him are evidence of an intelligent designer who made him, as the
various parts of nature, adapted to one another, are evidence of an
intelligent designer that produced them. This reasoning leads to the
conclusion that there has been an infinite succession of creative and
created Gods, which is inconsistent with the idea of a First Cause,
the creator of the universe. Then why attempt to explain the mysteries
of the universe by imagining a God who produced everything but himself,
and why argue from the order and fitness in the world the existence
of a designer. It reminds me of the ostrich, that having buried its
head in the sand, so as to render invisible its pursuers, fancies
there is no further need of exertion to escape from the dangers and
difficulties which surround it.
"Design represented as a search after final cause, until we come to
a first cause, and then stop," says F. N. Newman, "is an argument I
confess which in itself brings me no satisfaction." "The attempt,"
says Buckle, "which Paley and others have made to solve this
mystery by rising from the laws to the cause are evidently futile,
because to the eye of reason the solution is as incomprehensible
as the problem, and the arguments of the natural theologian,
in so far as they are arguments, must depend on reason."
Design implies the use of means for the attainment of ends. Man
designs, plans, contrives and uses secondary agencies to accomplish his
purposes, because unable to attain his ends directly. But how absurd
to speak of contrivance and design in a being of infinite power and
knowledge. Man, to build steamships has to fell trees and hew them
into various shapes, get iron from the earth and smelt it in furnaces,
and work it into bolts, braces, nails, etc., hundreds of workmen,
carpenters, joiners, blacksmiths, cabinet-makers, painters, caulkers,
riggers, etc., labor for months before the vessel can be launched. If
man possessed the power to speak into existence a steamship, would he
contrive, plan and use means to construct it? On the contrary, would
it not come instantly into existence as a complete, perfect whole?
But the existence of a steamer, since it is only a means to an end,
would be inconsistent with unlimited power in man. If he were able
to effect his purposes why should he construct a vessel with which
to visit far off lands? Infinite power would enable him to cross the
ocean by the mere exercise of his will. It is evident at a glance
that the use of means is incompatible with infinite knowledge and
infinite power. This argument ... in proving too much proves nothing,
and demonstrates its own worthlessness, and therefore we cast it
aside. Design implies finiteness; man designs and has to calculate
and use means to accomplish his end. If he were all powerful would he
use that power to construct ships to cross the ocean, or armies to
win battles, when he could accomplish his end without, and by those
means demonstrate that he is infinite in power? An infinite being would
not have to employ means to complete his works; he would not have to
doubt and cogitate before he accomplished his design; that would be
the method of man. It is absurd to suppose that a God did all those
things. We supposed God infinite in everything, in his power, in his
love and kindness. He has power to do everything. And yet the world is
so constructed that at every step we take we crush to death creatures
as minutely and curiously formed as ourselves. They kill one another in
numerous struggles, and life has been such a series of bloody battles,
resulting in destruction of life, that the Waterloos and Solferinos of
history are nothing in comparison. Where is the design in the volcano
that belches forth its fiery billows and buries in ruins a Pompeii
and a Herculaneum? Where is the design in the tornado that sends a
fleet with its precious freight of humanity beneath the remorseless
waves? Where is the design in the suffering and torture that thousands
feel this very moment in the chambers of sickness, and in the hospitals
full of diseases? Where is the evidence of a great being who has the
power to make men happy, and yet allows the world to go on in all its
misery--such misery as it makes one's heart ache to see, and which we,
imperfect creatures as we are, would gladly stop if we could?
And where is the design in the thousands of facts which science
has brought to light, showing that there are organs and parts that
serve no purpose at all, but on the contrary, are injurious to their
possessors? Why do some animals, like the dugong, have tusks that
never cut through the gums? Why has the guinea pig teeth that are shed
before it is born? Science tells us these rudimentary structures are
the remnants of a former state, in which these parts were of service;
but theology, which requires us to believe that a God made all these
animals as we now see them, cannot possibly reconcile these facts
with infinite wisdom and goodness.
Adaptation in organisms instead of having been produced by a Deity,
we hold is largely the result of natural selection. Adaptation must
exist as the adjustment of objects to their environments. If a flock
of sheep be exposed to the weather of a severe climate, those of
them having the thinnest wool, affording the least protection from
the cold, will perish. Those with the thickest wool and hardiest
nature will survive every year, and by the law of heredity, transmit
their favorable variations. By this process those best adapted to the
climate live, and the others perish. Thus in the struggle for life we
have the "survival of the fittest," without any design whatever. But
the theologian comes along and looking at the sheep, says: "See how
God has adapted these sheep to the climate." He forgets the thousands
that have shivered and perished in winter's cold as the condition
of this adaptation. So animals change the color of their coverings
in accordance with their environments. The bears among the icebergs
of the North are white, because in the struggle for life every light
variation has been favorable to the animal--has facilitated its escape
from the hunter and its preying upon the living things upon which it
subsists. Those with darker coverings have gradually become extinct,
leaving in undisputed possession of the snow banks and icebergs
this species, which in color resembles the general aspect of its
surroundings. Look at the rabbits. Some change their color every year;
some are brown in the summer and white like the snow in winter. Those
with this tendency to change their color during the year, having
the most favorable variation, have persisted, and this tendency,
by heredity, has been accumulated, until it has become a part of the
nature of the animal.
These are but illustrations of a principle discovered by Darwin and
Wallace, which explains largely how, not only color and thickness
of coverings, but speed, strength and suppleness of body, keenness
of sight and hearing, and all other parts and powers of organism
have been developed in adaptation to their environment, without any
special design whatever.
It is said we have no evidence of the eternal existence of the
universe, because we have no personal observation of it. But is there
any personal observation to prove the existence of an eternal God? Yet
it is believed in by our opponents. We believe the universe always
has existed in the past, because we see no trace of a beginning; we
believe it will always exist in the future, because we see no prospect
or possibility of an end. Worlds have their formation and dissolution;
but the substance is neither augmented nor diminished. Matter
is indestructible and eternal. We are not, therefore, in need of
a creator.
B. F. Underwood.
Do the natural affairs of this world show a designer? Is there
a conscious intelligence at work guiding all the affairs of this
world? We see no evidence of a wise and benevolent design in the
creation of wild, ravenous birds and beasts of prey. We fail to see
anything like a kind providence in earthquakes, volcanoes, floods,
tidal-waves, storms at sea, drouth, famine, and pestilence. Is there
a supreme intelligence which causes monstrosities, sends epidemics,
horrid diseases, plants parasites upon the human body? Are lice,
tape-worms, bed-bugs, fleas, flies, grasshoppers, and mosquitoes
"blessings in disguise?" Are abject poverty and misery divine
blessings? Is ignorance a gracious boon in mercy sent? Pain and misery
are not exceptional features of man's life on earth, but they are chief
characteristics of it. Are some unconscious of their degradation? Shall
we infer therefrom that ignorance is bliss? If this unconsciousness
of degradation on the part of some shall be considered as evidence
of a benevolent designer, then what shall we say in the case of those
who are conscious of their degradation?
"If," says Haeckel, "we contemplate the common life and mutual
relations between plants and animals (man included) we shall find
everywhere and at all times, the very opposite of that kindly and
peaceful social life which the goodness of the creator ought to
have prepared for his creatures: we shall rather find everywhere a
pitiless, most embittered struggle of all against all." Large fish
eat small ones, large birds devour the smaller, and the ferocious
beasts of prey live upon the weaker and less fleet animals. In this
struggle for existence there is one perpetual battle; the smaller,
weaker and less fleet are captured and devoured by the stronger,
and man destroys and eats any of them at his pleasure.
Is there a display of intelligence and benevolent design in creating
man with strength and wisdom to slaughter his prey at will? Then
where is the benevolence of design in creating the animals to be
thus slaughtered?
The universe, we shall find, does not exhibit evidence of a conscious
intelligent design. Says Shelley: "We must prove design before we
can infer a designer."
Mr. Talmage insists that it takes no especial brain to reason out
a "design" in nature, and in a moment afterward says: "When the
world slew Jesus, it showed what it would do with the eternal
God if once it could get its hands upon him." Why should a God
of infinite wisdom create people who would gladly murder their
creator? Was there any particular "design" in that? Does the
existence of such people conclusively prove the existence of a
good designer? ("Ingersoll's Interviews," p. 46.)
Providence.
Religious people see Providence in everything. Strange it is, too, that
the most marked displays of Providence are seen in shipwrecks, railroad
collisions, or in all devastating fires, floods, and plagues. In such
appalling calamities as lead most sensible men to say with Æneas,
"If there be gods, they certainly take no interest in the affairs
of men," the Christian sees proof of a good guardian, a saving God,
where nothing but destruction and ruin mark his pathway. There is
a strange fatuity manifested by believers in this doctrine. Not long
since a young man died very suddenly in Boston. There was a post-mortem
examination by regular physicians, and a coroner's jury, who mutually
deliberated over the body as to the cause of its death. The doctors
found the young man's stomach somewhat irritated. On close inspection
the contents of the stomach were found to be a mixture of bread and
butter, mince pie and coffee, ham and eggs, buckwheat cakes, oyster
stew, plum pudding, pound cake, corned beef, ice cream, more mince pie,
and baked beans.
The jury gave the case most grave and deliberate consideration, and
in accordance therewith returned the verdict: "Came to his death by a
mysterious dispensation of the afflictive hand of Providence." Just
so! Anything, however evil, unjust or foolish may be attributed to
Providence; yet he remains both wise and good.
Why, if this world is created and controlled by infinite wisdom
and benevolence, are not all things beautiful? One of man's noblest
endeavors is to beautify. But we see many flowers and plants which
are not beautiful.
Many parts of the earth are inhospitable and forbidding. What beauties
on the other hand lie buried at the bottom of the ocean, its flora,
shells, and corals! But no human eye ever sees them. Wherein is the
evidence of design? Where is the evidence of design in the horrid
monsters which once filled the oceans? Where is the design in creating
such monstrosities as we see among animals?
Did the designer intend that parasites should infest the human
body? The creator made the parasites (lice) and their proper
dwelling-place seems to be the human body. The human body gives them
their proper food. They are so constituted as to reproduce themselves
rapidly and thus persist in feeding upon man.
The question is immediately raised: "Were the lice made for man, or
man for the lice?" When did it ever occur to a sane mind that bed-bugs
and mosquitoes and fleas were created with a benevolent design?
These facts are irreconcileable with the notion of a supreme and
beneficent Providence.
Where is the evidence of benevolent design in earthquakes, floods,
volcanoes, drouth, famine, and ten thousand ills which flesh is heir
to? Where is the moral purpose? Where is the benevolence in peopling
the earth with millions of human beings who live lives of poverty
and misery?
But it is argued that we cannot see it all now, but by and by it will
be made plain to us, that is, when we get into the other world. This
is begging the question. The Christian says creation shows a creator,
who first created the universe and now presides over it. But when
we bring the facts of this world, its abounding evils and human
miseries, to show the absence of any benevolent superintendence,
he promises to make good his argument in the next world. This is
asking a fellow to wait too long. Again, it is argued by the Christian
that God ordained pain to work out good; but how comes it that this
ordination of working good out of evil does not take place? Sometimes
one man is made better by it, and another is brutalized by it. How
does this come to pass if pain was ordained to work good? Has the
plan of the designer failed? "The evils of this world are ordained
for the purpose of developing our souls; only by pain and suffering
can we be prepared for heaven." Little children who die, according
to this dogma, can never be developed.
Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? and one of them shall
not fall to the ground without your Father? (Mat. 10 : 29.)
But sparrows do fall to the ground nevertheless. And if some do not
fall to the ground that wicked bird the sparrow-hawk, devours them
sometimes before they have an opportunity to fall. It is the same
wise and kind Providence who makes the sparrow and the sparrow-hawk,
but perhaps the poor sparrow does not recognize the wisdom and mercy
of having a destroyer. But our good Christian friends will have it
that all things come to pass by the direct control of an all-wise
and all-good Providence. The Chicago fire, the Boston fire, and
others are all dispensations of Providence, if we may believe the
ministers, and they are the only ones who pretend to have positive
information of the facts. The bursting of a mill-dam, or a tidal-wave,
or anything and everything else that carries the besom of destruction
to thousands is to them a well-known intervention of the hand of
a wise and merciful Providence. It is the same, with good fortune;
if we as a people have great prosperity, large harvests and abundance
of trade, it is because of this "All-wise Providence." He brings the
evil and the good, miseries and joys, sins and salvation.
How do we know there is a kind Providence watching over this
world? "Oh!" says our Christian friend, "we see this manifested in
the kindly adaptations of nature to man's conditions, everything
seems to have been made for man's comfort." But, this general
adaptation of man to nature and of nature to man, proves nothing of
a conscious intelligence ruling over the universe. The maggot in the
cheese might look around him and say, if he could talk: "All this
cheese was made for me, because it's perfectly adapted to my wants
and conditions." Man and maggot are adapted to their surroundings,
because their surroundings have made them what they are.
After attempting to prove the existence of a special Providence,
and failing, the Christian then craw-fishes into absurd talk of
a mysterious Providence, a dark dispensation of Providence, an
inscrutable Providence, an inexplicable Providence. And when driven
from this refuge, he at last exclaims: "Well, if it all seems dark and
hidden from our understanding here, it will all be made clear when we
pass over to the other side." Yes, but you admit by this statement
that you know now positively nothing of a conscious intelligence
ruling the universe, why not say so?
The fundamental idea of a special Providence, is that he prevents
accidents; but in spite of special Providence, accidents do occur. And
even these mishaps, which show that no such thing as Providence exists,
are claimed by the superstitious as proof of a mysterious Providence.
Francis Bacon says: "We shall do well to bear in mind the ancient
story of one who in Pagan times was shown a temple with a picture
of all the persons who had been saved from shipwreck, after paying
their vows. When asked whether he did acknowledge the power of
the gods, "Aye," he answered, "but where are they painted who
were drowned after their vows?" (Jevon's "Principles of Science,"
part 2, p. 5.)
We learn from the little care which nature takes of single
individuals. Thousands of them are sacrificed without hesitation
or repentance in the plenty of nature. Even with regard to man
we make the same experience. Not one half of the human race reach
the second year of their age, but die almost without having known
that they ever lived. We learn this very thing also from the
misfortunes and mishaps of all men, the good as well as the bad,
which cannot well be made to agree with the special preservation or
co-operation of the creator. (Feuerbach's "Essence of Religion.")
But with the conception of a supreme beneficence this gratuitous
infliction of misery, in common with other terrestrial creatures
capable of feeling, is also absolutely incompatible.--Spencer.
In short, there can be no hypothesis of a "moral government"
of the world which does not implicitly assert an "immoral
government." (Fisk's "Cosmic Philosophy," vol. 2, p. 407.)
But the believer in the inspiration of the Bible is compelled to
declare that there was a time when slavery was right--when men
could buy, and women could sell, their babes. He is compelled to
insist that there was a time when Polygamy was the highest form of
virtue; when wars of extermination were waged with the sword of
mercy; when religious toleration was a crime, and when death was
the just penalty for having expressed an honest thought. He must
maintain that Jehovah is just as bad now as he was four thousand
years ago, or that he was just as good then as he is now, but that
human conditions have so changed that slavery, polygamy, religious
persecutions, and wars of conquest are now perfectly devilish. Once
they were right--once they were commanded by God himself; now, they
are prohibited. There has been such a change in the conditions of
man that, at the present time, the Devil is in favor of slavery,
polygamy, religious persecution, and wars of conquest. That is to
say, the Devil entertains the same opinion to-day that Jehovah held
four thousand years ago, but in the meantime Jehovah has remained
exactly the same--changeless and incapable of change.... A very
curious thing about these commandments is that their supposed
author violated nearly every one. From Sinai, according to the
account, he said: "Thou shalt not kill," and yet he ordered the
murder of millions; "Thou shalt not commit adultery," and yet
he gave captured maidens to gratify the lust of captors; "Thou
shalt not steal," and yet he gave to Jewish marauders the flocks
and herds of others; "Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's house,
nor his wife," and yet he allowed his chosen people to destroy the
homes of neighbors and to steal their wives; "Honor thy father
and thy mother," and yet this same God had thousands of fathers
butchered, and with the sword of war killed children yet unborn;
"Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor," and
yet he sent abroad "lying spirits" to deceive his own prophets,
and in a hundred ways paid tribute to deceit. So far as we know,
Jehovah kept only one of these commandments--he worshipped no
other God. ("Ingersoll's Reply to Black.")
It is said of Christ that he was infinitely kind and generous,
infinitely merciful because when on earth he cured the sick,
the lame, and the blind. Has he not as much power now as he had
then? If he has and is the God of all worlds, why does he not
now give back to the widow her son? Why does he withhold light
from the blind, and why does one who had the power miraculously
to feed thousands allow millions to die for want of food? Where
is he now? ("Ingersoll's Interviews.")
First Cause.
Assuming then, the existence of a First Cause, let us inquire for
a moment into its nature. The First Cause must be infinite. For if
we regard it as finite, we regard it as bounded or limited, and are
thus compelled to think of a region beyond its limits, which region
is uncaused. And if we admit this, we virtually abandon the doctrine
of causation altogether. We, therefore, have no alternative but to
regard the First Cause an infinite.
We are no less irresistibly compelled to regard the First Cause as
independent. For if it be dependent, that on which it depends must
be the First Cause. The First Cause can therefore have no necessary
relation to any other form of being; since if the presence of any other
form of existence is necessary to its completeness, it is partially
dependent upon such other form of existence, and cannot be the First
Cause. Thus the First Cause, besides being infinite, must be complete
in itself, existing independently of all relations,--that is, it must
be absolute.
To such conclusions, following the most refined metaphysical
philosophy of the day, are we easily led. By the very limitations
of our faculties, we are compelled to think of a First Cause of
all phenomena; and we are compelled to think of it as both infinite
and absolute.
Nevertheless, it will not be difficult to show that such a
conclusion is utterly illusive; and that in joining together, the
three conceptions of Cause, of Infinite, and of Absolute, we have
woven for ourselves a net-work of contradictions, more formidable,
more disheartening than any that we have yet been required to
contemplate. For, in the first place, that which is a cause cannot
at the same time be absolute. For the definition of the Absolute
is that which exists out of all relations; whereas a cause not
only sustains some definite relation to its effect, but it exists
as a cause only by virtue of such relation. Suppress the effect,
and the cause has ceased to be a cause. The phrase "absolute cause,"
therefore, which is equivalent to "non-relative cause," is like the
phrase "circular triangle." The two words stand for conceptions which
cannot be made to unite. "We attempt," says Mr. Mansel, "to escape from
this apparent contradiction by introducing the idea of succession in
time. The Absolute exists first by itself, and afterwards becomes a
cause. But here, we are checkmated by the third conception, that of
the Infinite. How can the Infinite become that which it was not from
the first? If causation is a possible mode of existence, that which
exists without causing is not infinite; that which becomes a cause
has passed beyond its former limits.
"But supposing all these obstacles overcome, so that we might frame
a valid conception of a cause which is also absolute and infinite:
have we then explained the origin of the universe? Have we advanced
one step toward explaining how the Absolute can be the source of
the Relative, or how the Infinite can give rise to the Finite?" To
continue with Mr. Mansel, "if the condition of causal activity is
a higher state than that of quiescence, the Absolute ... has passed
from a condition of comparative imperfection to one of comparative
perfection; and therefore was not originally perfect. If the state of
activity is an inferior state to that of quiesence, the Absolute in
becoming a cause has lost its original perfection. There remains only
the supposition that the two states are equal, and the act of creation
one of complete indifference. But this supposition annihilates the
unity of the Absolute." (John Fiske, "Cosmic Philosophy.")