¦W?!.. 6<,*UM***te ^ LOGIC THE CHRISTIAN FAITH a dissertation on scepticism, pantheism, the a priori argument, the a posteriori argument, the intuitional argument, and revelation. PATRICK EDWARD DOVE, ADTHOR OF "THE THEORY OF HUMAN PROGRESSION," "THE ELEMENTS OF POLITICAL SCIENCE," ETC. EDINBURGH : JOHNSTONE AND HUNTER. LONDON : GROOMBRIDGE AND SONS. M.DCCC.LVI, PRINTVT' PY JOIINfaTONK ANP I1UNTF-B, HTOII STRTET. contemplating < mind thinking of the ) ( universe. Here two minds are objective, and the one is real ; that is, distinguished from the thought of the mind that thinks of it. If we confine ourselves exclusively to the direct mode of viewing, we give rise at once to ideal philo sophy, because we can have no means of distinguish ing between real and ideal, — these terms, in fact, having no meaning. But we learn what is true. 60 SCEPTICISM. If, again, we confine ourselves exclusively to the reflex mode of viewing, we give rise to the sceptical philosophy, because we can have no means of distin guishing between the true and the false — these terms having no meaning. But we learn what is real. To have both truth and reality, we must look from both points of view ; and such we believe to be the common practice of the mass of mankind, who are neither idealists nor sceptics. But how does it happen, that both of these sys tems have been considered logically unanswerable ? Because both have started from their respective premises expressed in language ; and if we confine ourselves to either mode exclusively, we cannot in the one case provide evidence of reality, or in the other exhibit a criterion of truth. To take a familiar illustration from an analogous case, let us for a moment contemplate the distinction between the abstract and the natural sciences. The mathematician deals exclusively in abstractions, and furnishes us with abstract relations which he tells us are necessarily true. Suppose we turn upon him and ask him whether they are real. He replies, " With reality I have no concern, I have to do only with abstract notions and abstract relations. True, I know they are ; but whether there be any case of their reality, I leave those to discover who observe the world of reality." Let us now turn to the man of reality, the na turalist. He professes to furnish us with concrete facts, and as we require a concrete fact relating to TRUTH AND REALITY. 61 thought, the only person who can supply it is the historian or the psychologist. The historian tells us, that some years ago the inhabitants of Europe thought that the sun went round the earth. We turn upon him, and ask him if such a thought were true. His reply is, "With the truth or falsehood of the thoughts which I record, I, as a historian, have no concern ; I inquire only into the reality of those thoughts, — did men, or did men not, believe that the sun went round the earth ? The truth or falsehood of the proposition I leave to the astronomer, or to myself when I am no longer a historian." We have thus posed the mathematician by asking him for a real fact, and the historian by asking him for the truth of the credences he records. Shall we now turn round to the world and say, exultingly, "You see, gentlemen, that there is no reality and no truth!" Yet, by an analogous process, Idealism and Scepticism have imposed upon the world. Extreme systems of philosophy, like extreme sys tems of every thing else, (in politics, absolute demo cracy, or absolute despotism; in painting, the Dutch school of realism, or the Italian school of idealism; in medicine, the homoeopathic, or the allopathic theory; in geology, Plato or Neptune; in church discipline, apostolical succession, or independent assumption of the pastoral office, &c, &c.,) originate in the fact of starting from partial and inadequate premises, which are assumed as exclusive, and in ac cepting the conclusions of these premises, because they have a logical dependence in language on the 62 SCEPTICISM. primary assumptions. Any system may thus be logical. The danger is not in an erroneous process of reasoning, but in an inadequate collocation of pre mises. Spinoza may be as logical as Calvin or Pre sident Edwards, and Condillac as Berkeley or Hegel; that is, the conclusions may be legitimately drawn from the premises. But where were the premises obtained ? If they are abstract, they can lead us to nothing but abstractions ; and if they are concrete, the conclusions require to be constantly verified. Without verifying the conclusions, we can have no confidence in the premises; for in all matters of concrete reality, involving a function, it is' the verifi cation of the conclusion that establishes the validity of the premises. All the abstract geometry in the world, for instance, can never teach us a fact relating to the heavenly bodies ; and when we have taken our facts from nature, and deduced conclusions by geometric reason ing, those conclusions, wherever there is a function involved, must be verified before we can have con fidence in the concrete premises we started from. Let the question be the measurement of the year. If we have measured the year exactly, we shall be able to tell at what moment of time the earth will have completed its respective revolutions for the years to come. But how do we know that we have measured the year correctly, for this is the premiss from which we start in predicting the earth's future positions. Are we satisfied with the mere computa tion, or do we not necessarily require to verify over FALLACY OF IDEALISM. 63 and over again whether the logical conclusion cor responds with the observed fact ? Nay, may it not require many years of such re-verification, for our error may have been but small, and becomes apparent only when multiplied by a number of revolutions ? It is only the correspondence of the continually observed fact that assures us of the correctness of our observations; that is, of the concrete premiss from which we started, to predict the future position of the earth. But what then ? Merely this : " If the conclu sion which follows necessarily from our premises is not authenticated by the real occurrence as we pre dicted it, then were our premises either false or inade quate." This principle is universally true in all scientific research. To apply this to thought. Thought is a function ; and if we start from any concrete premises relating to thought, we say that only those premises can be held as true, which are authenticated by the corre spondence of the logical conclusion with the observed phenomenon. If Bishop Berkeley start from premises which logi cally prove to me that I ought not to think of a sub stance, — a noumenon different from all the sensible phenomena of nature, — I immediately reply, " But I do think of such a substance, therefore your premises must be false or inadequate. Were your premises correct, I should never have had the conception of any thing save appearances ; but I have a concept, a substantive thought, for the existence of which 64 SCEPTICISM. your premises cannot account, therefore there must be some error in your data." If, again, Scepticism tells me, by a most valid deduction from other premises, that I ought not to believe in the truth or falsehood of my mental con victions, I reply, " But I do believe ; and if your premises cannot account for my so believing, your conclusion does not correspond with the observed fact, and your premises must, consequently, be erro neous or inadequate." In both cases there must be the correspondence of the logical conclusion with the observed pheno menon, before we can give assent to the premises from which the conclusion is drawn. This corre spondence is, in fact, the only possible proof that the premises are correct. Now, let it be remarked, that we cannot remove from our minds the thoughts, reality and truth. No man can succeed in divesting himself of the thoughts, whatever he may have done with them. He might believe any thing true and any thing false, any thing real or any thing ideal, but that there is a truth and a reality, whatever it may be, every man as necessarily believes as he believes his own exist ence ; and we must reject every theory of mind so long as this fact is unaccounted for, — just as we should reject the astronomer's dictum, were he to tell us that the sun ought not to be more then ten degrees above the horizon, when we actually observe him at his meridian altitude. The practical test of our argument, and it is a WHAT PHILOSOPHY IS. simple one, is this : " Ask the idealist to give you a definition of what he means by reality, and the sceptic of what he means by truth." As an idealist, he can have no conception of reality; and as a sceptic, he can have no conception of truth. The words are without meaning, absolutely unintelligible ; they have no origin, no cause of existence, nothing that could produce them, no source from which they could spring ; they can serve no purpose, contribute to no end, and enter into no argument ; — because there is no thought to answer to them, and no reality or idea to represent them. The conclusion, then, to which we would come is this : " Philosophy, instead of being a science that can teach us any thing about external nature (realities or phenomena), is, in fact, nothing else than the science of human thought (of knowledge); it really discourses of nothing but thought, and if it assume premises, which are incompatible with the existence of the stable thoughts that are found in the human mind, its premises must be either inade quate or false." To suppose that any theory of thought should affect our belief concerning any thing but thought, is to depart from every principle of science, and to overturn the whole edifice of knowledge. Know ledge must be obtained before it can be made objective, and subjected to a critical process of ana lysis; but it is perfectly evident, that the only operation we can peform on it, is to analyse it into its substantive elements, — inquire what are the rela- 66 SCEPTICISM. tions of those elements, — and determine the methods actually realised in science. To inquire into the truth of the knowledge, is to ask for something which we can never find by an inspection of the knowledge itself, but only by turning our eyes to the objects from which the knowledge has been obtained. BOOK I. SCEPTICISM. CHAPTER II. SPECIAL OBJECTIONS TO THE SCEPTICAL PHILOSOPHY. [Having in the previous chapter considered the general doctrine of the process by which we arrive, first, at truth, and, second, at reality, I now propose, in two sections, to state the special objections to the Sceptical Philosophy. Section I. exhibits how the Sceptical Philosophy originates, and why its accept ance by any man in the world is impossible. Section I. may, therefore, be considered as the philosophical objection. Section II. enters into the special process of science (that which is admitted by all who study science, and which is indubitable) ; and here I shall prove, beyond the possibility of dispute (as I be lieve), that man can attain to a knowledge of nou mena, of causes. In the whole history of philosophy there is nothing more remarkable than the fact, that philosophers have contented themselves with opi nions, instead of appealing to the indubitable crite rion of science. A little attention to the primary truths and methods of science will throw more real 68 SCEPTICISM. light on philosophy, than all the professedly philo sophic books that ever were written. Philosophy (as hitherto manipulated) is an attempt to do by consciousness that which can only be done by cri ticism* Consciousness in philosophy gives only opi nions, criticism gives indubitable truths. Thus, if a philosophic dispute arise as to whether man can know causes (efficient causes), we say that all the opinions of all the philosophers in the world are ab solutely without value, and that the question never can be settled by the dicta of philosophers. They may dispute for ever and be no nearer a termina tion, because their method is incapable of solving the question. But, on the contrary, if we turn to science, we find a science using causes, measuring them more accu rately than any physical substance can be measured, calculating with them, predicting phenomena with them, and knowing about them all that we can pos sibly conceive to be known ; and we say, that if the causes cannot be abolished from the science, then can they never be abolished from the philosophy. In dynamics and physical astronomy, causes (force, the cause of motion) are absolutely necessary, and he who denies the necessity is incapable of learning the science of dynamics. But next to the mathematical sciences, which treat of number, quantity, and space, there is nothing more absolutely certain in their method and demonstration than the sciences of sta- * Criticism must not be understood as the criticism of books, or even of systems, but as the criticism of knowledge; that is, of science duly substantiated. PHILOSOPHY AND SCIENCE. 69 tics and dynamics, and the philosopher who attempts to obliterate causes, must first construct a science of dynamics without force. Philosophers, however, ignore this fact, or overlook it ; they do not desire to be taught, but only to teach ; and thus we have an endless, vain, futile, and absurd disputation about cause and effect, when the question could be answered beyond contradiction by an appeal to the science of dynamics. If we cannot know causes, there never could be a science of dynamics nor of physical astro nomy ; but surely it is too much to ask us to aban don the finest efforts of human genius, for the verbal disputes of men who acknowledge no standard, and appeal to no criterion. The systems of Hume, Brown, and Sir William Hamilton, are incompatible with a science of dynamics. The first was a malicious puzzle (scandalous in a man endowed with the gifts which Hume undoubtedly possessed) ; the second, a conceited casuistry; the third, a pious (but assuredly mistaken) endeavour to obviate a counter-difficulty. A single day spent in the study of dynamics, would have convinced either of the above authors that they must either demolish the science or abandon their theories; but science is the catholic truth of the human race, and when once established is immortal. We shall affirm, then, and prove, that science requires causes, and that no theory of causation can be ad mitted that does not acknowledge positive causes, and man's power to know and measure the same ; and here we may point out what is the true nature of a genuine philosophy. It is not, as Locke supposed (or rather got credit for supposing, for Locke, out of 70 SCEPTICISM. his philosophy, was very far from a sensationalist, — the reverse, in fact ; see his treatise on Government,) a science of sensation ; nor, as Descartes supposed, a science of consciousness ; nor, as Kant supposed, a science of the reason ; — but it is a criticism of know ledge ; and the question is, Where is knowledge to be found? To criticise consciousness, gives us only individual experience ; to criticise the reason, gives us only the measure of the thinking faculty; but to criticise knowledge, gives us a genuine and true philosophy, as indisputable as the knowledge itself. Kant was the first who fairly announced that philosophy must be found in criticism, but Kant asked the wrong question. He asked, " What do I know ?" instead of " What is known ?" In the former case, we are na turally driven back on our own powers of cognition ; in the latter, we objectify knowledge, and from the knowledge itself infer the powers and capabilities of the thinking faculty. In the one case, we are with out a criterion, because we have returned upon our selves ; in the latter case, we have indisputable truth to commence with, and have only to ascertain how much it is really worth, and what it can teach us. Knowledge (direct and spontaneous) is to be found in science, and philosophy, properly understood, is a critik of science* Science is achieved knowledge, and achieved knowledge is the proper element to start with when we ask the question, What is known ? * I use this term, because neither critique nor criticism ex presses the meaning. PHILOSOPHY AND SCIENCE. 71 Science must first be settled before there can be a philosophy ; and as science has as yet only a limited region of undeniable truth, — extending over a wide field, it is true, but piercing as yet but a small way into nature, — philosophy cannot be perfected in the present age, but only begun. Its foundations maybe laid securely, but its edifice can only be reared very gradually, as science opens up each new department of nature, and hands over her treasures of accumu lated truth, to be built into the catholic temple of knowledge, that at last shall contain the whole human race. Thus, the doctrine of the absolute and the infinite may be taken from arithmetic, algebra, and geometry, and argued there with incomparably more propriety than in the region of theology. The doc trine of discrete quantity originates in arithmetic, the doctrine of continuous quantity in algebra, and both meet in geometry. The doctrine of causation may (nay, must) be taken from dynamics, mechanics, and chemistry ; classification, in all its various forms, will be found realised in science ; the power or im potence of the mind to posit substantives hidden from mere sense, can be at once determined in as tronomy, chemistry, and electricity; and the true value of an argument from analogy can here be tested by genuine experience. Nor is it at all necessary to study the internal details and complex propositions of each science to ascertain its philosophic value ; the philosophic value is contained in the primary and elementary proposi tions, not in the far-off demonstrations. The philo- 72 SCEPTICISM. sophy of geometry is all contained in the definition, the axiom, the method of theoretic demonstration, and the method of problematic solution. These will involve analysis, synthesis, and classification, and these are the contributions of geometry. Dynamics contri butes force (cause and effect). Mechanics and chemistry contribute induction and deduction applied to causes and effects; and so forth. Political eco nomy contributes, necessarily , the first commencement of psychology ; for it must have some theory of motive, will, intelligence, and final cause. And thus science will furnish the elements of a genuine philo sophy, which shall no longer delight in the vanity of speculation, or the vague uncertainties of conscious ness. Philosophy, if she will achieve a fruitful labour, must no longer wander in the unrestrained freedom of imagination, but harness herself and work. She must learn to learn before she can learn to teach. She need tell us no more what she thinks, for this can advance us nothing, but what she knows, and what we can know if we will follow her method, and what all men can know if they will study. Philo sophy is nothing more than the abstract form of science, but what that form is, can only be deter mined by an attention to science itself. Philosophy, to be indisputable, must be built up from the earth, not drawn down from the clouds ; and though, like the tower of Babel, she can never reach to heaven, she has not failed if she only teach us the necessity of the ladder which the patriarch saw in his vision.] ORIGIN OF SCEPTICISM. 73 Sect. I. — § 1. How the sceptical philosophy ori ginates. — The sceptical philosophy originates in this fact, that only one man is taken into consideration ; and it is concluded, that what one man cannot know, that the race together cannot know. The conclusion is false, the premises are inade quate. It is said " that a crowd is no taller than the tallest man in it;" and catch phrases of this kind are sufficient to satisfy the simple, who see the truth of the proposition, and utterly mistake its application. The crowd is immensely stronger than the strongest man in it. The sceptical philosophy as regards one man, is (to the extent of some of its major proposi tions) true. Had it not been in some sense true, it could not so seriously have imposed on men of great ability. As regards two men, it is false ; and as regards the race, it is so utterly false, that it can only be maintained by shutting out the idea of the existence of the race. First, I shall consider that I alone exist, — that there is no other man with whom 1 can communicate. I behold nature, and I have a multitude of diverse impressions. I see images, I hear sounds, I smell perfumes, I feel cold and heat. The universe is to me an image, I think it not myself. I reflect on what I know, and now I discover that what I am conscious of, is a change in my own condition. I am a sceptic ; beyond myself I know nothing. All the phenomena of which I can be conscious in my solitude, are phenomena of my own conditions ; 74 SCEPTICISM. beyond myself I cannot go; I long to pierce the mystery of my existence, but I cannot overstep the inevitable condition of my nature ; I shriek for knowledge ; I am Prometheus bound — at the mercy of the vulture. But, again, I live in two worlds ; one that seems in its main features the same to-day that it was yesterday, but even it changes ; the other that seems to be another world, the world of day and wakeful ness, the world of night and sleep. What are these visions I see in my dreams ? why do they ever vary and do not return ? I cannot know ; the question is insoluble. But again. I sleep by a marsh ; I awake anxious, fearful, tremulous ; I wish life to be gone for ever. I am in the first stage oi fever. I sleep again, — and again I am in a new world, — a fiery world of tumul tuous life; vision after vision coursing headlong be fore my consciousness. I see them palpably ; I feel them, they strike me ; I cannot move ; I am over come with terror ; whither can I flee ? Again, I sleep. I awake to the old world, which to me seems only an old memory ; I am feeble from my combat of the other world. What where those visions I saw ? They are no more, but where are they ? I know not. Wretch that I am, I know nothing. I am, I must be a sceptic. Such is, indeed, the method of scepticism, — taught us, however, not in this plain style, but with many sounding words and great appearance of wisdom. It is true, that if only one man had been, he never could CORRECTION OF SCEPTICISM. 75 have known what was real and what was ideal, — out of the circle of his own impressions he could not go. Let us now, however, suppose, that instead of one man there were twenty men, and that they had a language in which to communicate. At first, when they see each other, each is only a pheno menon of the other's sensation. They hear each others' voices. Still only sensation. But a light breaks on them ; they understand the meaning of the words. Now, the problem is to be solved. What do you see ? What do you feel ? What do you know ? These run rapidly through the assembled men, and gradually truth begins to dawn upon all. " I thought," says one, " you were a phenomenon of my consciousness." " Nay," replies the other, " I thought you were a phenomenon of my conscious ness." And so with all. Each had thought that the nineteen were phenomena of his mental con dition ; but each of the nineteen claims a personal existence, and will, by no means, allow himself to be obliterated by the sceptical doctrine of the others. What do they believe now ? They believe that each is a man, a mind, a person similar to themselves. But now for the dreams. One sleeps, the others watch. The sleeper sees his visions, the others see nothing, but the stable nature common to them all. The sleeper awakes, and asks if they had seen his vision. Not at all. It was, and he now believes it, only a phantom of his own. Another sleeps, and the last sleeper watches. He now learns for him self that no vision is to be seen, although his com- 76 SCEPTICISM. panion on waking describes his experience of the dream. One takes fever, and sees the drama of delirium. The nineteen watch and see none of it. He recovers, and though no image is more vivid or more certainly apparent to our consciousness than the illusion of delirium, the convalescent acknow ledges that it was a phantom, quite distinguished from the stable rocks, rivers, and trees, that all can see. Scepticism disappears, until some philosopher arises, who thinks to enlighten himself by attempt ing to darken all other men. It may be supposed that we have granted too much in allowing that a single man could not attain to a clear knowledge of more than his own perceptions. Perhaps ; but we wish to give the sceptical view its fullest prominence; and, also, it must be remembered, that the supposition of a single man is out of the question, since children are born by ordinary descent from parents who are necessary to care for the children. An infant cannot live unless cared for by others, and these questions are settled for all prac tical purposes in our early youth. § 2. To show, however, that the sceptical philo sophy, which denies objective existence, cannot be accepted, it is only necessary to ask how it would work. I am sure that J am, and you are sure that you are. But if you wish to persuade me that man can know only his own impressions or thoughts, I must be only so much of your thoughts ; that is, I am not, except as you think me. To this I, of course, cannot agree ; for on the same principle you are not, FUTILITY OF SCEPTICISM. 77 — you are only so much of my thought. The exist ence of the me, the self, is incapable of obliteration ; and every system that would land in such a conclu sion is a mere logical vagary, — a theory that cannot possibly be true, because it does not account for the facts. We hold it to be a principle of universal truth, that a system or theory that will not work in the region which we do know, is utterly useless when carried into the region which we know so much more imperfectly. As Condillac so well observed, and so beautifully illustrated in his creation of algebra out of a few logical principles,* " we rise from the known to the unknown;" but if we start with a principle that is perfectly absurd in the region of the known, what possible importance can we attach to it in the region of the unknown ? And thus it is with this sceptical philosophy : it will not work even on the showing of its professors ; for they acknowledge that they learn from other men, or refute the errors of other men, or write for other men. But how can these other men exist at all, if scepticism be valid ? Such a system is prepos terous. It advances that you are not, and yet it wishes to convince you. It says, "Fellow-man, I come to convince you that you do not exist ; you are only a phenomenon of my thinking. Now, at tend to my arguments, and I shall convince you," — that is, you the phenomenon. * Condillac actually performed this task, and threw more light on the nature of algebraic quantities, than is perhaps to be found in any other work. (See his Langue des Calculs.) 78 SCEPTICISM. The sceptical philosophy, then, resolves itself into this alternative : — Obliterate all history ; Obliterate all literature ; Obliterate all argumentation; Obliterate all mankind except yourself; — and Be a sceptic. Or,Admit the existence of other men (as all sceptics necessarily do), and Obliterate scepticism. If any man, therefore, will accept from Hegel and the German philosophers the doctrine of subjective scepticism, or absolute idealism, he, in the first place, accepts the fact that Hegel is only a mental pheno menon of his (this man's) own thinking; and, second, he accepts the doctrine, that he himself does not exist at all as a person, but only as a consecutive series of thoughts. But no man can accept from another his own obliteration; and, consequently, it is not possible for any man to accept consistently the sceptical philosophy. Sect. II. The argument from science that man can know CAUSES, (noumena.) § 1. We shall consider it proven that man can attain to a knowledge of more than phenomena, if we prove that causes are absolutely required in science. Here we have not to frame a proof, but only to point out a proof patent to all the world. POSITIVE CAUSES. 79 We affirm, and that without fear of contradiction, that a POSITIVE CAUSE is required in dynamics, in physical astronomy, and in mechanics. We there fore maintain the following propositions : — 1st. That this cause is universally admitted by scientific men, and considered as the first necessary item for the explanation of phenomena. Without the cause there can be no science. 2nd. That this cause can be measured with an ac curacy greater than can be attained in the measure ment of any physical substance. 3rd. That this cause can be calculated with, and that it enters as a known substantive item into scientific calculations . itk. That by aid of this cause, phenomena are not only explained, but predicted* A substantive that can be positively measured and calculated with, and to which we can assign values, * Aristotle having assumed/ow causes — the material, the for mal, the efficient, and the final, it is necessary to point out the fact, that if the word cause be used in this extensive sense, it must be considered synonymous with the word requisite. Thus we should say, " What are the requisites necessary for the exist ence of a thing 1 " Answer, 1. The matter of which it consists. 2. Ihe form, and the determination of the characters that consti tute that form. 3. The producing cause or dynamic agent that created, first, the matter, or, second, the form. 4. The end or pur pose for which it was made. Nothing can be more admirable than this division ; but it is necessary to take the word cause in & generic sense. Each species answers a distinct question. 1. Of what ? 2. Through what characters ? 3. By what agent ? 4. For what end ? In the text I use the word cause as, of course, efficient cause, and 80 SCEPTICISM. varying from any value more than nothing, to any value less than infinity, cannot be said to be un known to us. This is the case with force, the cause of motion. Before proceeding, however, to prove the necessity of positive causes in science, it will be proper to ex plain the circumstances that have led to the denial of positive causes. We find two classes of men denying the power of man to apprehend causes : 1st. The empirical man of science ; and, 2d. The specu lative philosopher. If the reader have fairly fixed in his mind the fact, that knowledge may be either direct and spontaneous, or indirect and reflex, he will have no difficulty in perceiving how both of these classes may deny posi tive causation, and yet how both may be wrong. In the first place, the empiric or materialistic sceptic is obliged to use causes. He cannot make dynamic calculations without the admission of a cause. In all his operations, he is absolutely compelled to proceed on the supposition that force is the cause of motion. So long as he proceeds spontaneously in the science, he works like other men, — always admitting force and forces, and using these as the substantive elements of calculation. He now reflects. He has mean by it a positive dynamic agent, not a system of pheno menal antecedents, nor a " negative impotence," as maintained by Sir W. Hamilton. Sir W. Hamilton's doctrine is untenable in physical science, for there we require positive causes. Had he divided his doctrine into two portions, a negative and a positive, his theory would have been more correct. MATERIALISM. the physical faculties of the intellect in large predo minance, or, at all events, in active operation. He perceives solids, liquids, and gases, and the changes they undergo ; but he does not perceive the cause : ergo, the cause is not. He proceeds to frame a materialistic philosophy, and to call things by new names. He escapes from the actualities of science, and lands himself in a discussion of the terms. He now assures us that man can only know what he calls facts, and that the pursuit of science is the pursuit of laws, and that forces are not to be considered as causes, but only as " effects " (!) (I shall prove this by special quotation hereafter.) We must remember, however, that the authority of a man of science is in his science, not in his reflex view of his own operations. Here he must be measured by the standard of his philosophic ability : and we need not wonder that many of the second- rate cultivators of physical science should fall into this species of scepticism, because we know that any object that is long and exclusively considered, assumes an unnatural and improper prominence in our thoughts; and thus the cultivator of matter- science comes to deny the existence of any thing but matter, and the mystic the existence of any thing but mind. The idealist, who devotes himself exclusively to the subjective phenomenon, abolishes matter with as free a hand as the empiric abolishes all that is not matter. Those who pursue direct and spontaneous knowledge, may have little or no power to trace reflectively the route they have pursued, and when 82 SCEPTICISM. we find them in their philosophy contradicting the very first principles of their science, we can only re gard the fact as originating in some intellectual im becility, that really prevents them from apprehend ing the abstract character of their mental operations. The empiric, then, denies causes from his defective powers of reflection. He ends in materialism. The speculative philosopher arrives at this con clusion by a different route, but not altogether in a dissimilar manner. He starts from the other end of possible thought. The empiric began with matter, and ended there. The philosopher began with thought and ends with thought. He commences with the ultimate abstractions, space and time. He finds himself at a particular point of each of these great categories : the here in space — the now in time. But on every side of the here, space is limitless, with out even a conceivable boundary. And before the now, and after the now, time is limitless, — endless duration is on either hand. He can conceive no absolute commencement either for time or for space, — the absolute is beyond the reach of his utmost faculty. He sees a flowing of phenomena, an un folding of endless succession, a perpetual birth, an unceasing springing into being of new forms of actuality. He thus regards, from his higher point of view, all things as relative — as phenomenal. The universe is not the seen, but only the everlasting seem ing. He also rushes to the conclusion, that man can know only phenomena ; and, overlooking the positive methods of science, he tells us that we can know POSITIVE CAUSES. 83 nothing of causes, but must confine our knowledge to the measure of mere coincidence and succession. He ends, not in materialism, but in phenomenalism. Now, either we must abandon the indisputable methods of science, or we must conclude that both the materialist and the phenomenalist are wrong. I affirm that science does know causes, and now pro ceed to the proof. The question is, " Does force, and force as the cause of motion, enter into our knowledge, or are we necessarily limited to the knowledge of mere fact, which, when generalised, becomes law ? " I affirm that force is as patent, genuine, and legi timate a part of our knowledge, as is any thing what ever. It may be invisible and intangible, but it is measurable, and can be calculated with, and has its laws; and the human mind can make (and has made) a science of force, even more perfect than any physical science whatever. First, of the definition of force. Force is usually defined as the cause of motion, or as a power exerted on matter to move it,— ^-such, at all events, is the meaning of the definitions, whether in these or in other words. This proposition^/brce, equal to, cause of motion — is true as a proposition, but it is inadequate as a definition, — a circumstance that appears to have been overlooked by many writers on mechanics. So far as motion is concerned, the proposition is correct enough : force is the cause, and the only cause of motion ; and, wherever motion is, it is the effect of force. But force is more extensive 84 SCEPTICISM. than motion, and a formally correct definition ought to account for those cases of force where there is no motion, — namely, cases of equilibrium produced by antagonistic forces. We must, therefore, say that force is the cause of motion, and the cause of the neutralization or com pensation of equal opposing force.* The latter clause of the definition, however, should come first, and it would account for static science; the other clause would account for dynamic science. Let us now establish that, in dynamic science, force is the cause of motion. Emerson's Mechanics. — Definition, "Force is a power exerted on a body to move it." Laplace, Celestial Mechanics.^ — Definition, " Any immediate cause of a change of motion is called a force." Sir John Herschell, Discourse. — " The first great agent which the analysis of natural phenomena offers to our consideration, more frequently and pro minently than any other, is force. Its effects are either, 1st. To counteract the exertion of opposing force, and thereby to maintain equilibrium ; or, 2d. To produce motion in matter." * Sir John Herschell (whose accurate philosophy is as re markable as the elegance of his method and the amount of his acquirements) has very plainly announced this view of force, which, though generally taken, is not sufficiently expressed by other writers. f Elementary Illustrations of the Celestial Mechanics of Laplace : London, 1832. A work containing much elegant criticism on the use of terms. POSITIVE CAUSES. 85 Dr Whewell, Hist, 2d Sec, vol. i. p. 388. — " It will be recollected that the formal are opposed to " (not opposed to, rather distinguished from) "the physical grounds of a theory, the former term indi cating that it gives a satisfactory account of the relations of the phenomena in space and time, — that is, of the motions themselves, — while the latter ex pression implies further, that we include in our explanation the causes of the motions, the laws of force and matter." The next quotation shall be from a source that may startle the sensationalists ; from no less than the great expositor of the sensational system, the Abbe Condillac, a writer whose really great powers have scarcely been appreciated in this country. Condillac, Logique, chap. 5, " Des idees des choses qui ne tombent pas sous les sens : " — "By observing sensuous objects, we rise naturally to objects which do not fall beneath our senses, be cause, according to the effects which we see, we judge of the causes which we do not see. " The motion of a body is an effect ; it has, there fore, a cause. It is beyond doubt that this cause exists, although none of my senses enable me to perceive it, and I name it force." Many more quotations might be adduced, but as they would only be the repetition of the same pro position, that force is the cause of motion, and that motion requires force to produce it, we may proceed to consider the operation of force. One word, however, on the authority of science. 86 SCEPTICISM. Any truth, satisfactorily established by science, is not to be overthrown by speculation. The philo sopher has no option but to accept the truths of science, unless, indeed, he can succeed in proving in the science that what was taken for a truth, is either an error or an unnecessary assumption. Science, indeed, is the sure groundwork of philosophy, and the authority of science is that which ought to pre serve the philosopher from those endless disputa tions that result from his having no certain and acknowledged basis. If, as a philosopher, I deny a proposition, not only generally admitted in science, but actually used in its ordinary calculations, and never contradicted either by the experience of fact, or by any imperfection resulting in calculation, it is not only illegitimate, but utterly absurd, that I set my own presumption against the patient labours of those who have devoted their lives and energies to a special branch of knowledge. Science, then, is authoritative, so far as philosophy is concerned. Philosophy must not alter or impugn the truths, but accept and use them. But what can we possibly say to those who, arrogating to them selves a species of peculiar claim to be the scientific philosophers, actually abandon the very primary truths of science, falsify them, distort them, and deny them altogether ? This is done by M. Comte, Mr John S. Mill, Dr Lardner, Mr G. H. Lewes, and the other present and extant writers of the materialistic school. Laplace. — " The most certain method that can guide us in the research of truth, consists in rising, by FORCE A POSITIVE CAUSE. 87 induction, from phenomena to laws, and from laws to forces." Emerson.' — " For all the difficulty of philosophy * consists in this : from some of the principal pheno mena of motions to investigate the forces of nature ; and then, from these forces lo demonstrate the other phenomena; — all of which is to be done upon me chanical principles. Thus, from the distances and re volutions of the heavenly bodies, the forces of gravity are derived ; and from these forces, thus known, are deduced the motions of the planets, comets, the moon, and the sea, as well as the motions of bodies upon the surface of the earth." Sir John Herschell. — " On those phenomena, which are most frequently encountered in an analysis of nature, and which most decidedly resist further decomposition, it is evident that the greatest pains and attention ought to be bestowed, not only because they furnish a key to the greatest number of in quiries, and serve to group and classify together the greatest range of phenomena, but by reason of their higher nature, and because it is in these that we must look for the direct action of causes, and the most exten sive and general enunciation of the laws of nature." Newton's three laws of motion (from Wood's Me chanics) : — 1. If a body be at rest it will continue at rest ; and, if in motion, it will continue to move uniformly forward in a right line, till it is acted upon by some external force. * Emerson uses the term philosophy in that peculiarly Eng lish sense which restricts it to physical science. 88 SCEPTICISM. 2. Motion, or change of motion, produced in a body, is proportional to the force impressed, and takes place in the direction in which the force acts. 3. Action and reaction are equal, and in opposite directions. We have here, then, evidence of the highest scien tific authority, — evidence which, even by itself, might fairly be considered indubitable, but which, when backed by another consideration (the use of force in dynamic calculation), leaves the question beyond the possibility of dispute. In a question of the philo sophy of science, there is no higher authority than that of Sir John Herschell; and his precise state ments may be considered as so many contributions, which physical science, in its highest and fairest form, has made to the theory of mental operation. Force, then, is the cause of motion ; and, in phy sical research, we arrive not merely at a generalised fact, or law, but at a cause, with which cause we pro ceed to operate when our induction is completed, and we commence the process of deduction. Let us now observe to what shifts those writers are driven who attempt to evade the doctrine of positive causation. For this purpose we select one passage from Dr D. Lardner's Mechanics. This passage may be taken as the representative of a system, taught and maintained, not only by Dr Lardner, but by many English and French writers of the sensational school. Dr Lardner has made the discovery, that force is not a cause but an effect, and he pretends to use it as THE EMPIRICAL PHILOSOPHERS. 89 such in his scientific treatise. I say pretends, for it is sheer pretence, — he does not so use it, and cannot. Dr Lardner, Cab. Cyclo. — Mechanics, chap. i. p. 7 : — " Force is generally defined to be ' whatever pro duces or opposes the production of motion in matter.' In this sense it is a name for the unknown cause of a known effect. It would, however, be more philoso phical to give the name not to the cause, of which we are ignorant, but to the effect of which we have sensible evidence." P. 49. — " When a certain phraseology has, how ever, gotten into general use, it is neither easy nor convenient to supersede it. We shall, therefore, be compelled, in speaking of motion and pressure, to use the language of causation, but must advise the stu dent that it is effects and not causes which will be ex pressed." Now, what proposition can the reader possibly suppose comes directly after the announcement, that it is effects, not causes, which will be expressed ? The very next words are : — " § 74. If two forces act upon the same point of a body, in different directions, a single force may be assigned, which, acting on that point, will produce the same result as the united effects of the other two." This proposition (which, although I do not pre tend to enter on the internal matters of science, I apprehend to be false, because, if we suppose the forces opposite and equal, we can assign no single force that would produce equilibrium) is quite suffi cient to explode the remarkable discovery, that forces 90 SCEPTICISM, are effects, not causes. Let us, however, accept the doctrine, and translate the proposition into language suitable to the theory. Thus : — " If two effects act upon the same point of a body in different directions, a single effect may be assigned, which, acting on that point, will produce the same result as the united effects of the other two (effects)." Is it possible for nonsense to go farther ? Now, let us consider force as a cause : — " If two causes act upon the same point of a body in different directions, a single cause may be assigned, which, acting on that point, will produce the same result as the united effects of the other two (causes)." But not to base any thing on a verbal disputa tion, let us take up the proposition as a matter of mechanic science. The proposition is the well-known theory of the result of two forces, acting on a single point, in the direction of the non-parallel sides of a parallelo gram. Let A B D C be a parallelogram, and let a move able point at A be acted on by two forces, one of which would move it from A to B in a given time, and the other from A to C in the same time. The motion will be in the direction A D, and the point will arrive at D in the same time a PROOF OF CAUSES. 91 that it would have arrived at B or C had either force been acting separately. This proposition is the first proposition of me chanics that contains all the elements necessary for the argument. Now, we suppose, it will be granted on all hands, that motion is the result, effect^ fact, or phenomenon subjected to observation, and that force is not sub jected to direct experience. Let us, then, suppose that we know only effects. It is plainly evident that there are not two motions, but only one motion. There is no motion in the direction A B, no motion in the direction A C, but only a motion in the direc tion A D. What, then, is it that is in the direction A B, and in the direction AC? It is no fact, no effect, nothing that can be observed ; it is a force, a cause, and without this cause the proposition can never be exhibited. Newton did not consider this as the composition and resolution of motions, but as the composition of forces. "A body describes the diagonal of a parallelogram by two forces acting con jointly, in the same time in which it would describe its sides, by the same forces acting separately." But to escape from the generalities of dynamic science, let us take a great and intelligible fact — the earth's motion round the sun, or the moon's motion round the earth. These motions (it is universally admitted by every writer on astronomic science who adopts the Newtonian theory) are the results of two somethings, one of which is tangental, 92 SCEPTICISM. the other, centripetal. Now, if forces are only effects, and man can do nothing but generalise, what possible use can there be in introducing into science things of which we have no possible experience ? In the moon's motion there is no tangental motion, and no centripetal motion — there is only an orbicular motion. There is no straight line in the question ; and if motion be in the straight line of the force, there is no possibility of assigning a force to the moon's motion, and, consequently, no possibility of connecting it with the fact of gravitation. The moon does not gravitate towards the earth's centre (as fact), neither does the moon exhibit (as fact) any of that tangental something which astronomers are compelled to use in their calculations. Every calculation, with regard to the motions of the planets in their orbits, is obliged to proceed on the assump tion that there are two (or more) forces present, neither of which can be observed in fact, but which we must necessarily admit, so long as astronomical science cannot be made without them. But again, if force could by any possibility be considered as an effect, why not obliterate it alto gether from dynamic science ? for motion and equi librium are the only effects, and those terms ought to be sufficient, if we can know only effects. So far from this, however, the calculations are made with forces, and with forces as causes, and this in the very works which assure us that forces are not causes. No sooner does any writer (even Dr Lardner) attempt to construct an argument, than he is com- KANT. 93 pelled, and compelled invariably, to use force as a cause, for in fact the argument cannot be constructed without it. I might adduce hundreds of quotations, but the fact is so notorious, and so perfectly patent to every one who takes the trouble to inquire, that it is only necessary to state the fact. The whole science of dynamics proceeds on the admission, that forces can be as distinctly estimated and reasoned with, as any of the other substantives that enter into the calculations. § 2. When, however, we endeavour to estimate the writers who have advocated the subjective philo sophy, we must draw a great broad line of demarca tion between those who, by their own conscientious researches, have arrived at the conclusion that man's knowledge is what they term subjective, and those who, incapable of comprehending the full import of that view, adopt it only so far as it may serve a pur pose. Kant, who affirmed the total subjectivity of knowledge, thereby proved, if he proved any thing, that it makes no difference whether we regard the whole of our knowledge in one light or another ; and of all men he was the true model of an honest seeker.* So little of bias does he manifest, that he seems not to wish any thing to be either true or false, but calmly waits to learn what is true. With a com prehensive mind of the highest order, and with that peculiar genius for abstraction which enabled him to sail his aerial way far above the reach of ordinary men, and to be at home in the cold and desolate * The same remarks apply to Sir W. Hamilton, who, for the most part, follows Kant. 94 SCEPTICISM. regions of the higher atmosphere, where he could mark and survey the boundaries of the world of knowledge, he holds on with untiring perseverance, and catching a glimpse, as he thought, of the edges of the world, with the infinite unknowable beyond, he descends, not with the solution, it is true, but with the panorama of a solar system, which made all pre vious systems sink into terrestrial limits. His word was, " Friends, it is useless ; I have seen the region beyond, and seen that it cannot be attained. Do right, love justice, obey the dictates of your moral monitor, and wait in hope for the other manifesta tion." And surely these are not idle words, com ing as they do from one gifted as Kant was ; and surely such a man is not to be confounded with the petty casuists, who, in the puppyism of their own vapid insipidity, would desecrate all the highest feel ings of our nature, and all the highest aspirations of our hopes, — who, with their one-eyed, tortuous, and ambidexter sophistries, would fain rob poor hu man nature of the fair ideal that one day shall be turned into perfection. Kant was the true astro nomer of philosophy, who saw our world of thought sinking into insignificance when he bent his gaze on the peopled firmament, boundless even to imagina tion, — they are the grovelling earth-worms who dwell in darkness, and will not see the light. In Kant, the piety of nature found an earnest and an able advo- vocate, — their cry is, " Crucify all morals, and break all bands asunder." Truly, such men are not to be classed together. WHAT WE KNOW OF CAUSES. 95 § 3. Let us, then, endeavour to fix down what we can know of causes. 1. We can know that they are. Force is the cause of motion. 2. We can know their qualities. The force of gravity is a uniformly accelerating force. 3. We can measure them with greater accuracy than we can measure any physical substance what ever. The force of gravity is in the inverse ratio of the square of the distance. This character of force seems to be common to the other causes of physical phenomena, namely, that they follow perfect mathematical ratios. This is a very singular fact, and proves beyond a doubt the harmonious construc tion of nature and reason. The ratio is entirely a matter of the reason, utterly independent of the ex istence of matter. So many thoughts, for instance, would have originated arithmetic quite as well as so many fingers or so many pebbles. Now, no observa tion is ever absolutely perfect; for instance, the mechanical measurement of the circumference of the circle is rejected by every geometrician as unworthy, and thus the measure of the force is actually more perfect than the measurement of any physical sub stance. The actual measurement of spaces and velo cities are only sufficiently near approximations to inform us that a force of such a definite character is there. The errors are corrected by analogy. 4. We can calculate with them, explain pheno mena with them, predict phenomena with them, and use them for the practical purposes of life, with as 96 SCEPTICISM. much accuracy and facility as if we had them in a bag and carried them about for use. Also, we can extend them from the facts that revealed the force, to other facts of another kind. Motion, for instance, reveals force, and then the doctrine of force can be applied to equilibrium. The fall of bodies to the earth's surface reveals gravitation, and then the doc trine of attraction can be applied to the moon and the planets. Thus we can know their function (in cluding action and reaction). Now, I ask, what more can we possibly know ? Existence, quality, quantity, relation, and function, constitute all that we can possibly know of any thing. What more can we know, nay, what more can we conceive to be known ? and if we cannot conceive more, surely no sane man can ask more. But another, and by no means unimportant con sideration, may be noticed. There is no physical substance in the world of which we know as much as we do of FORCE, the cause of motion. Take even one of the simple substances of chemistry — gold, for instance. You know that it is, you know its quali ties, you know its measurements in weight, in size, in form, &c, and you know something about its functions. But you cannot calculate with it in the same complete manner in which you calculate with force. At some future time the force signified by gold may be as accurately ascertained as the force signified by matter, considered as a mere mass ; but it is not yet ascertained, it is only undergoing its process of discovery. And when ascertained, it will WHAT WE KNOW OF CAUSES. 97 be the force, and not the gold, that will be calculated with. ^ The substances of nature are only expressions revealing forces and causes of various kinds. Almost the only thing we know of the planets, in addition to their sensible motions and size, is the exact quan tity of force which they exert one on the other; and, certainly, we know the law of the force even more accurately than we know any thing else concerning them. Hence, it is proven that we can know causes, and can know concerning them all that we can conceive to be known. The fact that we know of force, the cause of motion, all that we can conceive to be known of a cause, is indubitable evidence that causes are not beyond our cognition, and that we have only to pursue onward and onward to find out the other causes of nature. Let those who gainsay this, first construct a science of dynamics without force, and force as ihe cause of motion, and then — but not till then — will it be necessary to look for some other proof, " that man can know causes." We " rise from the facts to the law, and from the law to the cause;" and from the cause and the circumstances we deduce phenomena. Hence, then, we conclude that the Sceptical Phi losophy, whether it assume the form of subjectivism, which denies all save the phenomena of conscious ness ; or the form of materialism, which denies all save the phenomena of sense (and these must ever be the two grand divisions of a sceptical method) ; — we conclude, I say, that the Sceptical Philosophy 98 SCEPTICISM. is utterly contradicted by the plainest and most cer tain facts of our knowledge, and by the indubitable truths of science. If we are not willing to obliterate the existence of all other men save ourselves, and the existence of force from the science of dynamics, then is it absolutely certain that we can attain to the knowledge of objective existence, and to the know ledge of super-sensible causes, which we can know, measure, and calculate with, and without which dynamic science is impossible. BOOK II. PANTHEISM. BOOK IT. PANTHEISM. § 1. What is Pantheism? At every moment of time the universe may be viewed under two aspects. First, We may ask, What is extended in space ? of what is the universe composed ? Second, We may ask what operations, changes, and sequences take place in time. The first inquiry asks, What is the universe sub stantially or statically ? The second asks, What is the universe in its even tuality ? — what is the potential or dynamic universe ? In space we observe properties, qualities, or appre ciable attributes, and by a law of our reason we infer substance. In time we observe changes (events), and by a law of our reason we infer cause. If we assume that all apparent properties are pro perties of one and the same substance, we are static or substantial Pantheists ; and if we assume that all events are only the operations of one and the same cause, we are dynamic Pantheists. In the latter 102 pantheism. case, the term fatalism is usually employed. Fatalism is only dynamic Pantheism. ¦ Materialism assumes that all that is, is matter which functions according to its laws. Pantheism, on the contrary, assumes that matter, and all else, is only a manifestation of an immortal energy or primordial force, which is improperly termed God. Materialism makes nothing God. Pantheism makes everything God. The difference is unimportant, for both agree in obliterating all that can be called morals, and all that can be called religion. Various schemes of argumentation, advanced by Christian or theological writers, are logically panthe istic, although no such conclusion would have been acknowledged, and, certainly, was neither intended nor desired. At the same time, it is necessary to remark, that a train of thought intended to obviate one difficulty, is apt to be expressed in such strong language that the language supports the opposite error. Hence some Christian writers, under an ear nest desire to magnify God's grace, and to point out man's inability, have fallen into expressions which can scarcely be cleared of the charge of Pantheism ; and this charge has been made against them. So far as regards the writings, the charge is, perhaps, fair and proper, if intended as a critical caution ; but, as regards the men, the charge is probably altogether out of place. The writings are pantheistic, but the men — not so. DIFFICULTIES. 103 It is true that there may be difficulties — perhaps insuperable difficulties — in the way of reconciling to our own limited reason the doctrine of will with the doctrine of a first cause, or, indeed, with the doctrine of a universal causation. These difficulties we freely acknowledge. We do not intend to deny them, to understate them, or to avoid them. On the contrary, for a full understanding of the phenomenon, they must be fairly estimated, duly appreciated, and calmly weighed ; they must be taken in the measurement of their full proportions, and when so taken, they will be found as the terminal barrier in one direction. But however great these difficulties may be, they refer only to one side of the phenomenon. They belong to one particular region of human cognition, in which we are universally constrained to admit the law of causation in its full plentitude. Without that law we cannot reason, so long as we confine our attention to this one region. In it we regard all things as an endless flowing derived from an immor tal cause, and the minutest change in the minutest particle of the universe as involved in all the previ ous changes and causes which have preceded, — up to the very origin of matter itself. Fortuitous or cause less events we neither conceive possible in actuality nor in thought ; for if we were to conceive chance as any thing more than a rude expression of our own ignorance, we should have no difficulty in conceiving that the whole universe might fall to pieces,— that order, harmony, and relation might utterly disappear, and that all knowledge and all reasoning might sink 104 pantheism. into a disorderly aggregation of unconnected thoughts. Such, however, we cannot conceive, except only as under the very same conditions that produce har mony, namely, under the influence of causation. We can easily conceive what we now call order to sink into what we now call disorder ; that is, we can conceive every particle of matter as separating from its fellow and pursuing an independent course of its own, without a link to bind it to its peer. We can picture the whole material universe as crumbling into formless chaos, and no longer following any recognis able law of sequence. But what we cannot conceive is, that this mighty catastrophe should take place without a cause, or without the withdrawal of one of two causes, the other of which would produce the apparent confusion. The doctrine of causation is an irrevocable necessity for man, and no effort he can ever make will deliver him from its universal authority over all his thoughts, in one region of cognition. So long as we confine ourselves to this region, we are de facto, Pantheists, — that is, we actually do consider all phenomena as primordially determined by God, and all events as only the manifestations of the Divine energy. Whether or not we consider a variety of substances is really of little consequence, for if there be only one power, and that absolutely irresistible, the whole phenomena are truly pantheistic. But this is only one view of our cognisable world. There is another (one that brings an equal though opposite imperative, — one where our conception of causation undergoes an entire modification) where THE MORAL UNIVERSE. 105 it has, superadded to it, a conscious intellect and conscious choice, — where we carry with us (as neces sarily as we carried with us the idea of determinate causation in the other region) the conception of voli tion. I do not say " of free volition," for this term is ambiguous, and, in one sense, means more than we require — but of volition, of will, of conscious selection, determination, and operation; and here our universal doctrine or scheme of causation is overlaid by another scheme, that introduces an entirely new series of judgments, and involves an entirely new theory of action. This region is the region of morals, of responsibility, of duty, of obligation, of the ought and the ought not, of crime, of punishment, and of reward. Into this region we carry with us an entirely different class of thoughts and emotions from those to which we were confined in the previous region. There we were the intellectual percipients of phenomena, ever evolving under laws, and ever attributed by us to causes which left no possible result, save that which actually occurred. There, the potential causes and the static conditions being given, the result must follow, as being potentially contained in the ante cedents. There — there was no contingency, no possibility of deviation, no conscious will, no moral judgment. All was the perpetual flowing of develop ment, under the influence of fatalistic power. Here, on the contrary (and the whole history of man, savage or civilised, bears out the fact), we enter on entirely a new field of cognition, emotion, 106 PANTHEISM. and conscious action. We never regard, and no nation ever regarded, the whole scheme of human life as constructed upon a fatalistic principle, which leaves no room for choice, and no opportunity for conscious deliberation. All human language gives utterance to this truth, and all human institutions, that are based on man's relation to man, are con structed on the principle, that man is more than a fatalistic or passive mechanism. Not that man is free in the full and unrestricted sense of that term, but that man is in some sense free, — the voluntary agent determining his own actions, and, consequently, responsible for those actions. Hence the reason ableness of law, and laws, and moral rules. All law (and wherever man is found, law is found, even if it be only some rude instinctive law or custom relating to person and property) originates in this very fact, that man is not blindly and irrevocably deter mined to specific actions which he cannot possibly avoid — but that he has a certain though limited power of control, which enables him to refrain from the commission of certain deeds, and to engage in other actions which are not prohibited by the laws or customs of his surrounding fellows. Were we to obliterate the whole mass of this law and custom, which originates in the clearest acknowledgment of man's responsibility, and is based on man's responsi bility, the whole of human society, as it now exists, would fall to pieces, and the social world would sink into a pandemonium, abhorrent to the reason, and revolting to all the higher sensibilities of our nature. SUPREMACY OF LAW. 107 And, be it remembered, law, in its proper and higher meaning, is not merely for the purpose of punish ment, but also, and more especially, for the purpose of instruction and direction. It points out to those who are willing to do well, the actions they ought to perform, and the actions they ought not to perform. It is thus not merely for the restraint of the evil, who are resolutely bent on doing wrong and can only be restrained by terror, but it is also, and very especially, for the guidance and direction of the whole mass of society, which, by obedience, may illustrate in real and outward manifestation the wisdom which dictated the rules and precepts. Thus the very highest form of created existence — that of pure angelic love and holiness, that of the ministering spirits, who do His will and have not fallen from their first estate — is the very condition in which there is no punishment, and yet the very highest possible exemplification of law. Law, there fore, in its highest sense, is the expression of the Divine will, the rule which God has given for the regulation of the universe : in the physical universe the irresistible law of absolute determination, — in the animal world the law of instinct, combined with the first faint glimmering of something that approaches to reason, — and in the moral world, where the large gift of a reasonable soul has been bestowed, the moral law. The universality of social law among men is the best possible proof that man feels, knows, and admits himself to be implicated in a scheme which is not 108 PANTHEISM. fatalistic in the sense of Pantheism. Pantheism as sumes that all manifestations are only the unfoldings of Divinity, the outward expressions of the same iden tical energy, or potential substance, or substantial potence. It regards all that is, not as sustained by God, but as being God ; and all actions not as performances which are permitted or even pre ordained, but as being the very actions of the divine potence outwardly realising itself in the actuality of fact. Now, in meeting this pantheistic doctrine (which, it is almost needless to observe, is subversive not merely of the Christian faith, but of all morals what ever, — that is, of all moral doctrine, for a Pantheist may lead an orderly, and, in many respects, moral life), we must carefully guard ourselves from the vain attempt to solve the major difficulties of philosophy. It is not at all necessary that we should be obliged to explain what the true theory of the universe is. This is not in the least requisite for a full and im partial refutation of the pantheistic scheme. We may be quite unable to establish a positive theory that shall explain the whole mystery of human belief, of human life, and of human action, and yet we may be quite as able to show that the pantheistic explana tion is erroneous. We may not be able to prove what the right theory is, and yet we may be able to prove that any one given theory is wrong, because it will not account for the facts which we know to be indubitable. § 2. Let us, then, endeavour distinctly to appre- ORIGIN OF PANTHEISM. 109 hend where the pantheistic theory fails, remember ing always, that a theory, or a philosophy, or a speculative doctrine, is only a human reading of the universe. No theory originated by man endeavours to establish truth, it only endeavours to explain to the reason a certain scheme, which, if true, would account for the actual phenomena. And every theory or philosophic doctrine must be measured by this one principle, that if it can explain all the facts it may be true, but if it cannot explain all the facts it must be false. Hence, philosophy may, in one sense, be considered not as the pursuit of truth, but as the pursuit of error, — as the human effort to destroy and abolish those systems of belief which have imposed on mankind, and which are proven to be false imme diately we can adduce facts that will not square with the imagined explanation. Let us, then, determine the regions of thought and knowledge where Pantheism might possibly be true, and those in which it must necessarily be false. Here the same distinctive method that guided us in our criticism of Scepticism, will aid us to under stand the fallacy of Pantheism, and, at the same time, to detect the secret of its power. Let us, then, consider a single man, placed in the presence of Nature, contemplating natural pheno mena, and attempting to devise a rational theory of the universe. This man observes the flowing changes of the external and objective world. He beholds a perpetual unfolding of phenomenal appearances, and his reason necessarily posits a substance and a power. 110 PANTHEISM. With his eye he perceives what he calls matter ; but on a closer investigation, he is constrained to ac knowledge that he cannot detect the essence of matter, but must confine himself to a systematic record and schematic mensuration of the changes. He sees only the surface of the universe — not the universe itself. He knows that there must be some thing more, something under the phenomena, some thing which the eye detects not, something immor tal and invisible, some potence or energy which is manifesting itself in the outward forms of creation. He then asks, " What is this potence ? " He knows not, he cannot discover, it perpetually evades his subtlest inquiry. Still, his reason must find some answer, as his whole belief must be a chaos unless he base it on some substance, — substance being an intellectual necessary of rational thought. A uni verse of mere phenomena is an impossible universe, — that is, impossible to thought; and whatever result may be arrived at, there must be some substantia tion of a real essence, for without the supposition of a real essence, it is impossible to believe in the exist ence of phenomena. Here, then, is the origin of the pantheistic doctrine, which, as regards the material universe, is by no means so erroneous or so refutable as some writers suppose. That is, the pantheistic doctrine being a theory, and the human reason acting under the law that we should posit nothing superfluous, we are intellectually constrained to admit as few sub stances as possible. And in this region, where we ORIGIN OF PANTHEISM. Ill behold only the operation of absolutely fatalistic laws, it is not a priori necessary that we should posit more than one substance, which one substance unfolds or manifests itself in a multitudinous varietv of forms. The argument, so long as we confine ourselves to the merely fatalistic universe, is good enough for all the practical purposes of belief; that is, the theory is sufficiently feasible, — and, be it re membered, sufficiently simple (simplicity having always a great attraction for the multitude) ; — I say the theory is sufficiently feasible to satisfy the crav ing of the intellect, and to allow it to entertain a species of belief that it has found a basis on which to erect the universe of phenomenal change. Here is the position. So long as we contemplate the material or fatalistic universe, it makes no differ ence to our belief whether we separate the power from the substance, and conceive the substance as acted on by an intelligent power; or whether we conceive the power and the substance as identified, and merely unfolding itself by its own energy. The very same conclusions will follow in all the after pro positions of our belief. In either case we shall be hold only a series of fatalistic phenomena, over which we have no control, and in either case we might fold our hands and drift along the course of time to an irrevocable destiny, wafted by fate — hope being vain, and fear altogether superfluous. In our rejection, then, of the pantheistic theory, we must calmly and carefully estimate the sphere in which it might have been correct, and instead of in- 112 PANTHEISM. veighing against it as if it were a personal offence against ourselves (a practice only too common), let us rather endeavour to expose its insufficiency, and to lay bare the reasons why it cannot be true. The question with Pantheism is not, then, whether it might possibly be a good and sufficient theory in one region of cognition, but whether there is another region in which it cannot possibly be true. This question is not as to the validity of a scheme, but as to the existence of a vast region of necessary thought, of which man, as man, cannot divest himself, under any circumstances, in any nation, or at any period of time. The whole question of Pantheism resolves it self into this : Is man confined to the knowledge of a universe where all events take place under abso lutely fatalistic laws? — for in that case the pantheistic theory would be actually sufficient ; or, Is man uni versally obliged to acknowledge another universe, in which he admits the existence of will, the sentiment oi justice, the emotion of conscience, and the fact of responsibility ? If the cognisable universe be entirely fatalistic, then the pantheistic theory is as good as any other ; but — and here lies the whole question — if there be a moral universe, a region in which man pronounces a moral judgment and exerts a moral will, then is the pantheistic theory necessarily false. The existence of a moral universe is, then, the grand refutation of the pantheistic scheme. Out of the moral region, the pantheistic theory might have been tenable, — within the moral region, it fades into a deceptive fable; and man, no longer the mere con- ORIGIN OF PANTHEISM. 113 templator of inevitable changes, springs at one bound into a higher universe, where he is endowed with the destinies of responsibility. No longer a mere reflec tive intellect, he becomes a moral agent, and carries with him all the accessory thoughts, language, and institutions, which the fact of his being a moral agent necessarily implies. If this view be correct, it should explain to us where we should find Pantheism, and where we shall certainly not find it. Pantheism originates in the exclusive contemplation of external and fatalistic Nature. Hence it will be held theoretically, only by those who devote their attention to the pheno mena which are regulated by fatalistic laws. We may find it in the region of the physical sciences, — we may find it combined with a science of matter, with astronomy, with geology, with natural history, with the lower anatomies of the world, with a ma terial doctrine of man, with a degrading form of psychology, and, in fact, wherever it is possible to carry out the idea of fatalistic law. Natural history, taking that term in its widest sense to include the whole region of material nature, is the peculiar home of the pantheistic scheme ; and hence, if we find Pantheists at all, we shall find them among those men who devote their attention to natural science. Such, indeed, is the fact. Pantheism is found among men of science in Germany, in France, and to some extent in England. It is a deification of the object of their pursuit, — it is, in fact, the philosophy of the material and fatalistic world. So 114 PANTHEISM. long as man fixes his eye on physical nature alone, he may, perhaps, consistently maintain a pantheistic doctrine. It is quite otherwise, however, when we come to the world of man, and inquire into human relations. The moment we turn to the social world of men, the pantheistic chart is folded up, and a new and more complete map of the universe is opened out before us. The pantheistic scheme could go no farther than the bare outline of the osteology of the world, — the new chart must clothe the world with its liv ing tissues, and animate it with a vitality of a totally different character from that of mere passive obedi ence to fatalistic force. Let us turn, then, for a moment to the social world. Here we find the Family, the State, and Humanity at large. In the Family we have the re lation of husband and wife, of parent and child, of brother and sister. In the State, we have the relation of citizen to citizen, of elector to elected, of legislator to subject, of executive ruler to nation, &c, &c. In the social world of Humanity we have the relation of man to man, — of man to woman and to child. We have those relations which are un specified by positive laws ; we have the relation of friend to friend, — of man of honour to man univer sally, — of rich man to poor man, independently of race or country, — of man who can aid to man in distress, — of man who has information to man who wants information, &c, &c. Now, in every one of these regions, and in every THE MORAL WORLD. 115 one of these relations, there is a peculiar something which was not found in the objective world, and which something entirely obliterates the possibility of man adopting as a general belief the pantheistic theory. And" the best proof of this is, that the moment we bring the Pantheist out of his region of nature into the relations of social life, he does always and invariably abandon his theory of nature, falls in with the common belief of humanity, and by his action sets his seal to the proposition that man is a moral being and has moral duties. The whole his tory of man bears out this fact. Wherever man is found, there will be found some tacit or explicit law, rule, or custom, to infringe which is deemed a crime, or an offence, or a wrong action, which merits the penalty of a painful infliction, varying in degree from the mere disapprobation which affects the moral feelings, up to the deprivation of liberty, or even of life itself. All human language is constructed on this moral principle, and all the instinctive emotions of our nature bear witness to the fact, that we cannot obli terate the distinction between right and wrong. Theoretically we may attempt to do so, by the mere trickery of logic, which is no more worthy of serious consideration than the legerdemain of the skilful trickster who deceives "our very senses; but the moment we come to the actualities of life, and ex press our real belief through the most palpable of all expressions, namely, in our actions, we do univer sally and necessarily establish moral distinctions, and 116 PANTHEISM. hold man to a greater or less extent accountable for those volitions which he reduces to overt acts. With out will there could be no crime; and so evidently is this principle perceived by all men, that the very- moment a human being, through the misfortune of mental aberration, comes to be acted on by irresist ible forces, that moment we account him no longer responsible, and except him from the moral law, be cause he is impelled to act, and no longer selects his actions. From this moral world it is impossible for us to escape. We may reduce our rules as low as we will, and extend our latitudinarianism as far as we possibly can, but ultimately there will always be found some moral distinctions, and some moral laws ; and these, however imperfect they may be, are always sufficient to establish the fact, that man does not, and cannot regard himself as implicated in a pantheistic scheme, where all phenomena are the mere exhibitions of the same ultimate or primary energy. Let us now consider in what manner the existence of a moral law destroys the possibility of a panthe istic doctrine of the universe. So long as we con template the objective and fatalistic world, it is possible for us to entertain the supposition that matter is actuated by a divine force, and if we con fine ourselves exclusively to matter, it may be impossible for us to draw a substantial distinction between the matter itself, and the force that causes it to function, — that is, we may be compelled to draw a logical distinction, and to reason with the THE MORAL WORLD. 117 power and the substance as two separate terms or items ; but it may be quite impossible for us to draw a material distinction, and to pronounce that there is more than the mere matter itself, which functions according to its own inherent power or energy. We may say consistently (and in the very language of modern science), "the matter is the force," and all matter is only localised and partial force, capable of resisting or overcoming other force. And though these forces may act in opposite direc tions, and appear to contend, we can have no reason for establishing such an antagonism as should justify us in saying, that there were more major substances or powers at work, than the mere one of which we suppose the universe to consist. The result of the apparent contention may be as Divine as either force separately, and the contention may be only the means by which the result is produced or secured. So long, in fact, as we do not turn to the realm of mind, we may wander in a pantheistic universe without being able to establish the existence of any separate intelligence really distinguished from the operating force. In the moral world it is otherwise. Here we have the categorical imperative of conscience, — the abso lute supremacy of a law which knows no mitigation of its requirements, and admits of no contending principle. It is true that men may differ as to what items do actually constitute that law, but this is only a proof of man's ignorance and darkness. Such a diversity is a secondary question, and cannot affect 118 PANTHEISM. the major proposition of the moral world; for so soon as we have admitted any thing whatever to be right, or any thing whatever to be wrong, in the moral sense of obligation and responsibility (and all men and nations make this admission), we have then and thereby admitted the universal imperative which establishes a moral universe, and draws the distinc tion between the Infinite God and the created creature. The categorical imperative presents itself in this form, that whatever may be man's desire, there is, over and above the desire, a duty, to which, in all cases and all circumstances, the desire ought to give way. Such is the fact on which the whole moral world is based, and such is the fact that obliterates the possibility of a pantheistic doctrine of the uni verse. The admission of obligation is the admission of law ; and the admission of law (which is abso lutely universal wherever man is found, however imperfect it may be,) is the admission of a power higher than man, from which power law emanates ; and the admission of a moral power is the admission of a distinction between the finite who owes the duty, and the Infinite to whom the duty is owed ; — and, consequently, any moral law whatever is utterly destructive of Pantheism. Let us consider, — First, A moral law cannot exist without will. Second, A moral law must emanate from a will. Third, A moral law must be addressed to a will. Fourth, The will to which the moral law is THE MORAL WORLD. 119 addressed, must be endowed or combined with conscious intelligence. Fifth, A conscious intelligence endowed with will, or a will endowed with conscious intelli gence, constitutes an individual per sonality. Sixth, The PERSON giving the law, is essentially distinguished from the person receiving the law. Consequently, if there be a moral law at all, the universe is not pantheistic : But, man cannot possibly escape from the admis sion of a moral law : (This is the necessity oi fact, or material necessity, as distinguished from logical necessity.) Ultimate conclusion. — Consequently, the universe to man cannot possibly be pantheistic. Such is a brief summary of the mode in which the admission of a moral law destroys the pantheistic doctrine. But let us also consider how this argument com pletely destroys that pantheistic argument, which pretends to make a demonstration by starting from the idea of substance. This argument (presented with great logical power by Spinoza, who, in all pro bability, was really imposed on by his own subtlety) assumes, that there can be but one substance, which is self-existent, and of which all phenomena are only the manifestations. Now, let us essentially distinguish the natural universe from the moral universe, and we shall see 120 PANTHEISM. that the argument is perfectly irrelevant, and never reaches, nay, never approaches, the very question which man requires to solve, — namely, the mental relation between God and man. We shall criticise this point, and show that even if a pantheistic argu ment were perfectly irrefutable in the region of ob jective nature, it would entail not one conclusion affecting man's relation to the Divine Being. Here we shall be obliged to discourse of subjects where man has no direct knowledge, and where he is only enabled to operate intellectually in general terms, and through the general propositions of the intuitional reason. We shall make the largest pos sible admissions, and, for the sake of refuting this subtle argument, shall even venture to speak of things which otherwise we should not have ap proached. The case is this : — There is a phenomenal world, which is extended in space ; There is a mental world, which is protended in time ; The phenomenal world requires a substance (by a law of our rational thought) ; The mental world also requires a substance. The whole of the pantheistic argument lies in the word substance ; and, to show its fallacy, we shall ad mit it to be true, in the whole objective region of nature. Of course, we do not admit it to be true, there or elsewhere, but we shall admit it by supposition, for the purpose of showing that, even if it were true, it THE DOCTRINE OF SUBSTANCE. 121 proves nothing. This point is philosophically im portant, therefore we shall approach it in plain terms. Let us admit (merely by supposition), that the substance of the objective and phenomenal world is universally one and the same, that there is but one substance, and that the phenomenal world is pan theistic. Let us even go farther; let us admit (only by supposition) that the substance of matter is the same as the substance of mind, and, consequently, that the natural universe, including both matter and the substantial essence of mind, is pantheistic: I say, let us even admit this ; and yet, we have proven nothing to the purpose, and have not established one single point that need shake our faith in the Chris tian revelation. Let us remember, that oi substance we know directly nothing. So long as gold manifests itself in a different manner from silver, it makes no possible difference to us whether it be or be not of the same essential sub stance. And so long as mind is endowed with a con sciousness which distinguishes it in our apprehension from matter, it makes no difference what the natural substance of mind is. It is not the substance, but the consciousness that constitutes the value of mind, and draws with it those responsibilities which give to man his destiny. Let the natural substance of the human mind be what it may, let it be the same or different from matter, let it be any thing we can imagine, let it even be nothing in the material sense, — that is, let it be unextended, and have no place in the universe 122 PANTHEISM. of space ; and yet, so long as it retains its consciousness, it is a mind absolutely distinguished from matter, and absolutely endowed with a personality of its own. It is this personality which is the real substance of the moral world; and so long as it is retained, it matters not one iota what the natural substance of the mind is or is not. It is the intellectual consciousness and power of volition which constitute all that we under stand by mind, — the power of thinking and willing ; and whether the power of thinking and willing reside in, or be attached to, any extended substance or no extended substance, is a question which never for one moment affects those moral relations and intel lectual perceptions which constitute the essential life of the human mind. Let us even suppose, that in the centre of each man's brain there was found a small piece of gold, and that (if such were possible) we had perfectly sound evidence that this piece of gold was the actual substance of the soul, yet, if we retained our intellectual and moral consciousness, it would be a matter of utter indifference whether the mind was gold or silver, green or grey, material or non-material. So long as man is endowed with men tal life, so long as he retains his intellectual and moral consciousness, so long as he perceives reasons with his reason, and originates actions with his will, so long as he holds moral rules to be imperative on his fellow-creatures and on himself, — so long is mind dis tinguished from matter, so long is the mental uni verse not pantheistic, so long is God distinguished from his creatures, and so long is man only the finite THE DOCTRINE OF SUBSTANCE. 123 intelligence and moral agent, bound to obey the moral law which God has given. Hence, then, we conclude that this pantheistic doctrine, which starts from the idea of substance and ends in a blind fatalism, which is to all intents and purposes atheistic, is only a fallacy of transposition. We may as well speak of a square mile of domestic affection, a yard of honour, or a bushel of antipathy, as attempt to apply the material doctrine of sub stance to the region of intellect and moral emotion. The realm of material nature is ever essentially dis tinguished from the realm of mental nature, and no logical subtlety can ever bring the two realms one hair's-breadth nearer together. Matter consists of extension, resistance, and power to act on other matter in space. Mind consists of intellectual con sciousness, emotional desire, and moral volition ; and whatever may be true of matter, does not affect mind in any degree, so long as mind retains its attributes and comes under mental laws. Matter is a substance — mind is a soul ; and so long as man retains his personal and spiritual consciousness, he feels and knows that he can never identify himself with matter. Nor, on the other hand, can any sane mind pretend to identify itself with God. True, from God we have our being, and in him we live and move, by him we are sustained, and without his power we should sink into nothing and forgetfulness. But it is as agents responsible to God that we live, and not by any means as partial manifestations of Divinity. We are divine in our creation, — finite and human in ourselves, 124 PANTHEISM. — infinite in our origin, yet mortal in our nature, — of heavenly birth, yet of the earth, earthy, — divine, as being the works of God, yet finite, dependent, erring, the creatures of the dust, and the creatures of a day, fleeting through our terrestrial probation, — in our thoughts darkened, — in our actions sinful and rebel lious, — yet in faith the children of God, — and in our hopes immortal. BOOK III. THE A PEIOEI ARGUMENT. BOOK III. THE A PRIORI ARGUMENT. Sect. I. The Argument Stated. The a priori argument may be described as a philo sophical attempt to prove, that the admission of the Divine Existence is a logical necessity to the human reason. As an argument purely rational, this argument is only the statement or enunciation of a necessary form of thought : as combined with a single assump tion of fact, it is the statement of the conditions under which we view the cognisable universe. In its most extensive form it has three bases, each of which is supposed to direct to a similar, or, perhaps, rather to an analogous conclusion. The first basis is the conception of existence — of being in general, viewed in its most ultimate and abstract forms. Here the argument proceeds in this manner : — First. Necessary division. — Being must be either self- 128 the a priori argument. existent or not self-existent. Let the first be called necessary, the second contingent. All Being then, — all existence of whatever kind, — must be either necessary or contingent. Then, Philosophical necessity — All contingent existence must depend upon and be derived from necessary existence. (Because nothing cannot originate some thing. Existence is positive; and nothing, or the nega tion of anything, cannot originate a positive.) Then, Logical necessity — If there be contingent exist ence, there must be necessary existence. Then, Single assumption of fact — There is contingent existence. Conclusion — Consequently, there is necessary existence, or something which subsists in and by itself. Or, Converse conclusion by negation — If there be not necessary existence, then is there no existence, there is no universe, there is nothing. Second. The second portion of the argument bases on substance. Thus, Necessary division — All Being must be either substance or quality. (In language, subject and attri bute ; in material, substance and quality.) Philosophical necessity — All quality or attribute must depend upon, or be attached to, a substance. (Because nothing cannot support a quality. A quality is positive ; and nothing, or the negation of anything, cannot support a positive.) Then, — . ITS FORMS. 129 To connect substance with previous argument, — Substance is self-existent, or necessary, and Quality is not self-existent, but contingent. Logical necessity — If there be quality, there must be substance. Single assumption of fact — There is quality, or appearance, or phenomenal manifestation, or pheno menal consciousness, &c. Conclusion — Consequently there is substance — which, by previous argument, becomes — " There is a necessary and self-existent substance." Converse conclusion by negation — If there be not a necessary and self-existent substance, there can be no quality ; and if there is neither substance nor quality, there is nothing. (The same reduction or ultimate alternative that resulted in the former case.) Third. The third portion of the argument bases on causa tion. Causation may be viewed either as static or as dynamic. As static, we may view the possible universe in the fact of being, and say all that is must be either un caused, or caused in its existence. As dynamic, we may view the possible universe in the fact of operation, and say all that begins to be — all change — must have a cause. In the latter case we take time into consideration, in the former case we do not consider time. i 130 THE A PRIORI ARGUMENT. Necessary division — All existence must be either uncaused or caused. Philosophical necessity — All caused existence must depend upon, and be derived from, an uncaused existence. Logical necessity — If there be caused existence, there must be uncaused, or self- existing, or necessary existence. Single assumption, of fact — There is caused exist ence. Conclusion — Consequently, there is a causeless, underived, or necessary existence. Converse conclusion by negation — If there be not an uncaused and necessary existence, there can be no contingent existence, and, consequently, there can be nothing. Such are the three forms which this abstract argument may be made to assume. Each brings us to this alternative : either that there is nothing whatever, or that there must be some underived and self-existent positive existence. At this point, how ever, (and even much farther) the argument is only the barren outline of our own mode of conceiving existence. The argument might, in fact, be pre sented as an exposition of the mind's necessary operations, quite as much as an exposition of the necessary existence of God. It is not a theology, for a theology requires a person ; it is only the abstract preparation of the human reason in its approach to the theologie idea. Before it can assume speciality, it must be linked with the conception of ITS FORMS. 131 reality, and then it confers on reality qualities of the utmost importance, which qualities could not be found in reality itself. We shall, therefore, consider how this abstract ar gument can begin to connect itself with the real. This it does through the medium of the two pri mary conditions of reality, namely, Space and Time. Space is distinguished from nothing, inasmuch as it is the condition of material existence. We can not conceive matter, except under the condition of its occupying space. Also, assignable portions of space can be measured and compared, &c. Neither of these affirmations is true of nothing. Nothing is not the condition of any existence, nor has it assign ¦¦ able portions. Space, therefore, is radically distin guished from pure negation. Thus, then, we begin to prepare for reality. Necessary division — All space is either finite or non-finite (infinite). Philosophical necessity — All finite space must be only a portion of infinite space, — infinite being taken in the sense of no limit being capable of conception by the reason. Logical necessity — If there be finite space, there must be infinite space. Single assumption of fact — There is finite Space. Conclusion — Consequently, there is infinite space. Converse conclusion by negation-— li there be not infinite space, there cannot be finite space, and, con sequently, there can be no space. 132 THE A PRIORI ARGUMENT, We now connect our previous argument with the conception of space. Necessary division — All existence must be either finite or infinite in space. Philosophical necessity — All finite existence must be either a portion of, or be dependent on, and de rived from, infinite existence. Logical necessity — If there be any finite existence in space, there must be infinite existence in space. Single assumption of fact — There is finite existence in space. Conclusion — Consequently, there is infinite exist ence in space. Converse conclusion by negation — If there be not infinite existence in space, there cannot be finite ex istence in space, and, consequently, there can be no existence in space. General conclusion from the whole of the previous argument — If there be existence, and if there be space, then there must be an existence, infinite, un limited, and omnipresent. 2 Op Time. Let us now pursue a similar argument with regard to time. Time is distinguished from nothing, inasmuch as it is the condition of change. Also, its relative por tions can be measured and compared, &c. This is not true of nothing. Necessary division — Time must be either finite or infinite. Infinite time is called eternity. ITS FORMS. 133 Philosophical necessity — All finite time must be a portion of eternity. Logical necessity — If there be finite time, there must be eternity. Single assumption of fact — There is finite time. Conclusion — Consequently, there is infinite time, or eternity. Converse conclusion by negation — If there be not eternity, there cannot be time. And as we might conclude that if there were not space there could not be matter, so we may conclude that if there were not time there could not be change. And thus the argument, if valid, would prove, that if there were not an existence, infinite in space and immortal in time, there could not be either a pheno menal appearance, which we call matter, or a pheno menal change, which we call an event. We connect our previous conclusions with time, in the same manner as we connected them with space. Thus,— Necessary division — All existence must be either finite or infinite in time. Philosophical necessity — All existence finite in time, must be either a portion of, or be dependent on, and derived from an immortal existence. Logical necessity — If there be existence finite in time, there must be existence infinite in time. Single assumption of fact — There is existence finite in time. (Supposed to be indubitable, from our own consciousness.) Conclusion — Consequently, there must be existence infinite in time. 134 THE A PRIORI ARGUMENT. Converse by negation — If there be not an immortal existence, there cannot be a finite existence. Sect. II. — This is, in reality, the genuine termina tion of what may be termed an a priori argument. If we pursue the argument further, and link other ideas with it, it becomes concrete, and embodies con ceptions plainly and evidently a posteriori. We must pursue it further however, for it leaves us in the midst of abstractions far too widely removed from our practical requirements to be considered as suffi cient. We must go on, — not with an a priori argu ment, but with this a priori preparation, and fill up our scheme with realities obtained through observa tion. No doubt the argument is, to a certain extent, valid, but it is far too shadowy to constitute a theo logy. That something is, at all times and in all places, is a most important conclusion, but totally insufficient for the reason to rest on, — except as it might rest on a general mathematical truth. The a priori argument, at best, is only the mathematic of the argument. It begins with abstractions and ends with abstractions. And the value of an a priori argument must be estimated on precisely the same terms as the value of mathematical science ; which, considered by itself, is only an ingenious exercise of the reason, but which, when realised in astronomy, physics, geography, navigation, &c, springs at once into the position of the great practical necessary of the realm of scientific knowledge. The same is true of the a priori argument. In itself it is a subtle exercise of the reason ; but when brought to bear on ITS USES. 135 the region of reality, it co-ordinates the whole realm of nature, and becomes, to all human knowledge, what mathematical truth is to the realm of science. Without mathematic (which, indeed, is only the preparation for physical science, properly so called,) there could be no science — no science of the solar system, — no science of the earth, — no geography, — no weighing, measuring, calculating, computing, com paring, — in fact, no reasoning with definite terms. And so, without an a priori scheme of some kind, there could be no major theory of the universe, — nothing in which to locate our partial consciousness, — nothing more than phantasm and phenomenal ap pearance, — there could be no truth, but only a seem ing, which seeming would be only a perpetual flow of unintelligible change. All would be chaos, — hopeless and irrevocable confusion and disorder, — without beginning, without end, without aim and pur pose. The reason would sink before the hopeless spectacle, — truth would be undistinguishable from error, — and humanity, appalled by the perpetual mystery, would plunge into maniac fury, or wither into the imbecility of idiocy. The savage, in fact, in whom the reason is almost powerless, is an insane man, oscillating between idiot simplicity and maniac fury. Some persons may smile, when we state that the savage is a savage because he has not an a priori argument. True, the relation seems remote from Samuel Clarke to the Kaffir or the Bushman. And so it is, if we were to understand by an a priori argu ment its literary statement. It is not the statement of 136 THE A PRIORI ARGUMENT. the argument, but its presence, which distinguishes the rational man from the barbarian. The argument might never have been stated in words, yet, more or less, all civilised nations carry it in their reason, and apply it unconsciously in thousands of different cir cumstances. For what, after all, is the argument ? It is only the human reason making a schematic statement of its own method of procedure in the major problem of the cognisable universe. And as men could reason before Aristotle displayed the method which the reason employed, so do men entertain a practical conception of the a priori argu ment, even where they have no knowledge of its statement And all nations are savage where there is not this practical conception, simply because the same reason that enables men to construct (even unconsciously) a general argument of the universe, is the very power that guides them in all the great interests of their life, — the very same that enables them to trace causes and effects, — the same that leads them to abstract the essentials of a phenomenon from its accidents, — the same that enables them to achieve science, to elaborate a constructive svstem of society, to invent machinery, whether in the mechanical or social world, and in a thousand different ways to apply their reason to the very circumstances in which they are placed. Let us, then, return upon this argument, and ex amine it critically. We shall not begin by any of that casuistical cri ticism which endeavours to confound the argument, either by dealing with words, or by advancing the ITS USES. 137 summary proposition that an a priori argument can not prove a fact. Words, at least, are only symbols made use of to suggest a certain course of thought; and the question is not whether the words are or are not susceptible of various meanings, but whether the course of thought intended by the writer and suggested to the candid reader, is logically consistent and valid. It would avail us nothing to make special verbal criticisms which any schoolboy of ordinary acuteness would have little difficulty in making. Such a mode of treating the a priori argument is mean, degrading, and unworthy ; and, probably, the last man to understand the full import and genuine value of the a priori scheme, is the verbal casuist who fixes his attention on its terms. The summary rejection, namely, by the assertion, that an a priori argument cannot prove a fact, is also a mean and poor criticism. It may be true, but not relevant. Of course, that which begins with a mere abstraction, must end with an abstraction; but what then ? The a priori argument, properly understood, never pretends to prove a fact, but a necessity. For if, indeed, it could prove a fact, it would instantly change its character and drop its universality. Facts we can conceive to be other than they are ; and, con sequently, if the a priori argument ended by pro ving a fact, it would end by proving something which we could conceive to be other than it is; and, conse quently, it would abdicate its high claims to impose on the human reason the necessity of a mode of belief which the reason cannot escape from, if it have only the logical power of comprehension. Such objections 138 THE A PRIORI ARGUMENT. prove, not the weakness of the argument, but the poverty of the objector, — exactly as if we were to object to algebra or geometry that it does not prove a fact, and, therefore, to conclude that either science was practically fruitless. Neither proves a fact; neither proves either the existence of concrete space or of concrete quantity; but both prove necessary modes of thinking with regard to hypothetical space and quantity, and when concrete space or quantity is discovered or admitted, the abstract science gives us the law under which we must think, to think cor rectly. And so it is with an a priori argument in the universal field of reason. The question is not, whether we can or cannot prove a fact, but whether we are under certain imperative laws of belief, which schematise our knowledge the very moment we acquire knowledge. If man were merely rational, his whole existence would consist of rational schemes, — of skeleton maps of knowledge, — of empty, vague, and hypothetical systems of intellectual forms, — of things which must be, if we only could establish that something is. Man merely rational, would be like the sheet of prepared paper not yet immersed in the solution of fact ; the form of knowledge would be there, but no manifestation of it would be possible. Before he can know, he must come in contact with the real universe, and then his impressions assume forms which his reason had previously dictated, and which are necessary, because they belong to the very construction of his mind. ITS USES. 139 In thus regarding the a priori argument, we abandon altogether the supposition, that it can establish a moral theology, or even the existence of a personal Deity. To stretch the argument to such an extent, is only to destroy its value, and weaken its power of conviction. It is not a theology, but a universal schematic of the reason ; and if it be regarded as an enouncement of the laws of thought, and as a statement of the ultimates of human belief, we remove from it the objections which may be brought against it as a demonstrative theology. In reality, what does it exhibit ? It is plainly evi dent, that if we start with abstract terms, we never can arrive (except by an illicit process) at a con scious Mind. Our conclusion cannot logically con tain more than was contained in the premises; and if the premises are mere abstractions, the conclusion, at the utmost, can only exhibit some abstract necessity, under which we must think reality when reality has been acquired. And this, in fact, is the very con clusion of each portion of the argument, if we omit the assumption of fact which was requisite in every syllogism to give even the possibility of a real con clusion. Let us omit the assumption, and in each case we shall find only a hypothesis with an attend ant necessity, e.g., " li there be contingent existence, there must be necessary existence," &c, which is a mere law of our thought. But this proposition does not state that there is existence, but only that if there be existence of one kind, there must be exist ence of another kind. It is schematic, exactly like 140 THE A PRIORI ARGUMENT. mathematic, which enables us to say, that if one side of a triangle be of any given or conceivable length, the other two sides must be greater — which does not by any means prove a fact, as there may be no such triangle, but a rational necessity ; that is, a mode of thought or knowledge which is absolutely im perative. Let us consider, then, the single assumption which an a priori argument requires to connect it into a scheme of real knowledge. It is this : — " There is existence." This is the single fact required by an a priori argument; all the rest is logical division, axiom atic necessity, or logical process. Now, this fact (There is existence), although only an assumption in the abstract argument, opens up an entirely new field of investigation, and prepares the way for the union of the a priori scheme, with the whole of the real and phenomenal universe subjected to our apprecia tion. " Existence" is the universal representative of all that we can afterwards ascertain to be, and all that we ascertain to be is thus brought parentheti cally into the scheme of argumentation ; so that, as soon as we ascertain what is, and what is the character of any real existence, we proceed to determine the character of the abstract existences which appeared as terms in our universal formula. And thus, in stead of abandoning our a priori argument, we only transform it from its abstract form into a concrete or real form, — the scheme remaining the same, but the terms becoming more and more real, until at last they ought to reach individual reality. The argu- ITS USES. 141 ment thus bears to the real universe the same rela tion that an algebraic formula bears to the material objects which can be placed in equation, and reasoned with as soon as their qualities are ascertained, — the process of operation being exclusively rational, and the terms exclusively real. Hence we conclude, that though the a priori argument fails in leading us to a fact, yet when we fill into its abstract formula the real existences with which we can become acquainted, it will lead us to a valid conclusion with regard to real existences, which conclusion could never have been arrived at without its aid. It is the algebraic formula of the universe. Sect. III. — Special consideration regarding the a priori argument. Before leaving this argument, it is necessary to point out a consideration of no small importance. This argument starts from the idea of Being, and by terming self-existent Being, substance, a pantheistic argument has been constructed. Now, it must be distinctly noted and carefully re membered, that man dwells in two universes, if such an expression may pass. There is, first, the objec tive, sensational universe, where all that is must be extended. In this universe, or region of thought, the laws of space and time, and the laws of velocity which unite space and time, are universally prevalent. Every thing in this region is considered as under the conditions of static extension and dynamic causation. 142 THE A PRIORI ARGUMENT. There can be no matter without extension, and no motion without force. Substance in this region is necessarily extended, even though it be a power. To every power, in fact, we assign locality, and take into consideration those relations of distance and direction, which enable the power to act in a particular man ner. In this region every thing is subjected to the law of measurement. But there is also another universe, where the laws of space, time, and velocity, do not necessarily enter. The former may be termed the natural universe, the latter the spiritual or mental universe. Here the relations are of an entirely different character. We do not figure to ourselves mind, as necessarily occu pying any definite and specified space ; on the con trary, we say that mind is the substance which underlies the phenomenon oi thought, and to thought we attach no idea of extension. It is not commen surable with space, nor is it subject to the laws of velocity. We speak of it in language, borrowed, it is true, from the objective world, but expressing a different meaning from our conception of physical phenomena. We say, analogically and metaphori cally, that thoughts are great or little, high or low; but we never mean that any measure of space can be applied to the thoughts, although we use the lan guage of physical mensuration. We say that thought is quick, but not quick in the sense of motion, which must be through all the intermediate portions of space. We say that thoughts follow each other, but not in the chronological sense of natural time ;^for I THOUGHT AND SPACE. 143 may think of to-morrow, and afterwards think of a thousand years before the flood. I may, in thought, be present in the future and in the past ; I may rove from the creation to the final winding-up of terres trial affairs ; nay, I may imagine new worlds, and be present, in thought, in regions which have no real existence. Time, it is true, in the mere sense of se- quence, must pervade my thinking; but time is a totally imperfect measure of the cognitive phenome non. Fast as time mayfly, it cannot keep pace with the imagination, which outstrips all conceivable velocities. Even light, with all its speed, is but a sluggard when compared to thought : or ever the light has begun its course, thought may be away in regions which the light could not reach in ages. Thought can wait upon the lightning, and wonder at its tardiness ; for ere the swiftest gleam can encircle the minutest par ticle of air, thought can span the firmament, and rush round the boundaries of the stars. If, then, thought be so essentially distinguished from every physical phenomenon, in that it is, as it were, relieved from the laws of space, it is surely an enormous fallacy to base a pantheistic doctrine on the idea of substance, when that substance is merely the substance of the objective world. The objective world never reaches the spiritual world ; and what ever be true of the objective world, there still remains the world of mind and spirit, which is, indeed, the most present to our consciousness, and the true world in which the mind of man dwells. In this world, space sinks out of all account, — it is nothing, has 144 THE A PRIORI ARGUMENT. no value, no import, — it may be altogether neglected. Ruling, as it does, the objective world, and being the first absolute necessity, without which there can be no physical universe, it sinks away into a mere re membrance when we approach the world of mind. The substance of thought (that is, that substance which we necessarily conceive to underlie the pheno menon of thinking,) is in no respect to be compared to the substance of the objective world, except in this, that the two substances have analogous rela tions. The substance of thought is a person ; and a person, in the mental or spiritual acceptation, has no extension that we can conceive, and, in fact, no direct relation to space. Personality is the radical element of all mental existence; and so distinguished is personality from matter, and from every thing connected with the material universe, that we can conceive thousands of millions of persons to occupy the same space in the physical universe, — that is, however small the space, we can conceive that any number of individual consciousnesses should be there present. It is from overlooking this most essential fact, that many subtle men, by pursuing a course of logic in the region of the objective world, arrive at a pantheistic conclusion. Indeed, I rather apprehend, that the pantheistic scheme, if confined exclusively to the objective world, is by no means so erroneous as we are in the habit of supposing, and that its logic is at all events of very difficult refutation, even if it can be fairly refuted at all. For if we reject the PERSONALITY. 145 idea of personality from the premises of our argu ment, I confess, for my own part, that I do not see how we can escape from Pantheism. Where our reason assures us that there must be a universal substance, and where all phenomena with which we are cognisant take place under fatalistic laws, I do not see how we can avoid a doctrine which is, to all intents and purposes, pantheistic. But when we start, as, indeed, we ought to do, from our own personality, we arrive at a totally different conclusion, and establish the necessity of a moral universe. And it is, indeed, this moral universe — and not, by any means, the physical universe — which runs through the whole tenor of the Scriptures. For it is not meant that God should be near us in space, or that man should draw near to God in space ; but that man can only be right in as much as God is present in the soul, and that man's moral soul or spirit should draw near to God in its affections and obedience. Nay, if we do not commence with per sonality, the whole Scripture is an senigma, and the whole scheme of Christian revelation absolutely unintelligible. And this view will, to some extent, afford a philosophical explanation of those many passages of the sacred Scriptures, where the wisdom of this world is placed in contrast with The Truth, which would be a paradox if the Scriptures were not constantly assuming (and never allowing the fact to escape from the most prominent notice), that God is a person, and that man is a personal spirit, alto gether distinguished from the material creation. K 146 THE A PRIORI ARGUMENT. Now, on this fact oi personality may be founded a far better a priori argument than that which begins with being; and, indeed, personality is a far nearer and more imminent conception to us than being. Such an argument would escape from the pantheistic idea, which has always more or less accompanied the a priori argument, when that argument began with the conception of space and substance. Such an argument would present itself in this form: Let the idea of personality be given. [We may fairly assume, I think, that our own personality is the nearest and most indubitable fact with which we are acquainted; it is our primary consciousness, our starting-point, — so primary, in fact, that the recent German philosophy assumes the All to be only a modification of the me.] Then, personality involves the idea of conscious freedom within a greater or less extent. Suppose this to be given in the idea of personality : Then, Necessary division — All persons must be either self-existent or not self-existent. Philosophical necessity — All persons not self- existent, must derive their existence from a self- existent person. Logical necessity — If there be a person not self- existent, there must be a person self-existent. Single assumption of fact — I am a person not self-existent. Conclusion — Consequently, there is a self-existent person. Converse conclusion by negation — If there be not PERSONALITY. 147 a self-existent person, then am I not. But this being impossible to the consciousness, the argument, if valid, entails the absolute necessity of my admit ting the existence of a self- existent person. Now, this argument, which is at least as valid as any a priori argument, and perhaps more to the purpose than most, entirely obviates the pantheistic tendency, because we assume that a person is not under absolutely fatalistic laws, but has a certain modicum of liberty. This liberty — how great or how small we must determine psychologically by our consciousness — is supposed to be known to us by its exercise, by the conscious exertion of our energy, by the spontaneity which we actually expe rience, and which, in fact, constitutes one of the most striking portions of our personal consciousness. And hence, if an a priori argument be valid at all, we pass immediately from the very fact of our con scious existence, to the admission of a self-existent PERSON, — not through the labyrinth of inferences and inductions from the phenomena of the material world, but immediately by a very intuition of our reason. We have not thus to seek God; but God, in the true sense of a self-existent PERSON, is as present to our reason whenever we reflect, as our own personality is to our consciousness. We are at once, and without any circumlocution of argument, God's creatures, and our moral consciousness instantly confirms the doctrine of the reason by its dictates of responsibility. We are thus, as it were, brought into the Divine Presence without any mediation of 148 THE A PRIORI ARGUMENT. space, without even the idea of locality — but in our inward soul, standing face to face with the most tremendous of all possible truths, namely, that so sure as we are, so sure is there an ALMIGHTY, by whom all things consist. This argument brings us, I believe, much nearer the true state of the case, than any of those which endeavour to prove the Divine Existence through re ference to the objective world. Those arguments may be to some extent excellent in their way, con firmatory of our belief, and necessary for the refu tation of objectors. But yet, we feel (and probably all men who turn their attention to the subject, feel) that those arguments do not contain the real reason of our belief. They may contain sufficient reason for a belief, but yet they do not contain the actual reason that does, in spite of every thing, make man acknowledge God. I say in spite of every thing ; for surely, if there is any thing conceivable by man that he would naturally shrink from, and wish otherwise, it is this very fact, that there is a God to whom (not to which) he is responsible. This we know, from the whole history of mankind, to be the truth of truths, — the one of all others which has exercised the greatest influence on the human race. Man is corrupt and fallen, yet he cannot escape from God. He will in vent every species of false religion, and bend his con science to his corrupt desires, yet he cannot escape from a religion. Atheism may trumpet forth her astounding discovery, but the world will not accept Atheism, because the world cannot. A few may RESPONSIBILITY. 149 endeavour, vainly, to convince us that there is no God, but the common reason of humanity spurns the gigantic lie, when presented in its naked deformity, and resorts to all incredible schemes whereby the truth may be defeated, even though it cannot be denied. Man would escape from a doctrine of re sponsibility, if man could ; but this being impossible, the next thing is to construct some religion suitable to man's fallen desires, which, while it still affords some specious hope that man shall escape divine punishment, shall yet be in accordance with man's own fallen nature. Such a religion is a human theo logy, and it will always take its character from the condition of the people by whom it is professed; so that the various so-called religions that prevail throughout the earth, are, to a very great extent, theologie reflections of the various nations them selves. But although this be true with regard to the character of the religion, the great fact is universally present in all, — that man must have a God. Now, if we consider the two regions or worlds in which man dwells — the objective and the mental, — and consider further, that when man proceeds to assign a character to God, he does so by an obser vation of the phenomena with which he is acquainted, we shall have little or no difficulty in explaining the diversity of religion that prevails among the various portions of the human race. Those who contemplate nature will arrive at a primordial force, unfolding or developing itself in the phenomena of the objective world. Those, again, who contemplate man, will ar- 150 THE A PRIORI ARGUMENT. rive at a mythology of hero-divinities ; and as both are likely to be more or less combined, we can easily see how such a method should lead most logically to a polytheism, — with Fate as the ultimate deity, and with personal deities of a minor and less universal character, superintending the respective operations of nature, or presiding over the various passions or emotions of the human mind. And thus, a diversity of religion, so far from being an argument against the existence of the Divine Be ing, is, in reality, one of the strongest confirmations of the truth, that man is by nature a religious and believing creature — all darkened and erroneous, as he may be, from want of the truth. For this diver sity only proves that man, under all circumstances, is obliged to have a religion. The form varies, but the fact is there ; and, if the view here advanced be correct, we can assign reasons both for the fact and the form. The Hindu, contemplating Nature, arrives at Natural Pantheism, — the Moslem, contemplating Will, arrives at Moral Pantheism, — the Greek and Roman, contemplating Man, arrive at a whole my thology of deities, representing partly the course of nature, and partly the human sentiments, — the de graded Savage, contemplating his own passions and bloody career, arrives at deities of ferocious mien and aspect, which are, in fact, only the exaggerated form of himself, — the German Philosopher, contemplating the intellectual operations, arrives at the conclusion that thought is the All. Were we not to admit that there is some other MYTHOLOGY. 151 argument than that derived from the objective world, we could assign no reasons for these great anthropo logical phenomena. The Mythology of Greece must have an origin, quite as much as the Pantheism of the Hindu, or the Moral Fatalism of the Turk. And this origin we can assign at once, if we admit that man reasons immediately to a theology from his own con sciousness, without any induction from the objective world — and, when the theological idea is established, that he proceeds to assign characters to his deities from the character of his own mental experiences. Hence the deification of anthropological phenomena, both mental and physical, — of love, hope, cunning, health, war, peace, &c, that is, of the emotions, con ditions, and occupations of man, — quite as much as we find elsewhere the deification of what we term Nature. This fact may be considered as distinct evidence that man does reason to a theology (however imper fect, or absolutely erroneous,) immediately and directly from his own mental consciousness, and without the intervention of an appeal to the objec tive world. And if so, it must be by such an argu ment as is here presented, which starts from our own personality, and arrives at a personal deity. Let us now consider for a moment the light in which we should regard the mythologies and poly theisms that have prevailed among mankind. These are to be viewed as gropings after God by corrupt man. This view is of essential importance. There has been some disputation as to whether any nation 152 THE A PRIORI ARGUMENT. has ever been found without a God, and perhaps too much importance has been attached to the fact, on whichever side the truth may be. Whether the African, reduced to the lowest depths of intellectual and moral darkness, still retains his fetish, or whether he has thrown his fetish away, and become absolutely without the semblance of a religion, can surely be of very little importance, either one way or the other. The civilised man, who has acquired a certain degree of knowledge, and a certain freedom of thought, would base nothing on the superstitions of an un fortunate barbarian, who does little more than follow the animal instincts of his nature. We may detect, even in him, the germs of a spiritual nature; but whether we do or do not detect this by actual obser vation, is a matter of very minor importance. We know that they are there ; but whether we detect them or not, must depend greatly on our own means of eliciting their manifestation, — and, consequently, any argument of this kind is necessarily of little value. To establish this point (which we esteem worthy of attention), let us view one of the universal laws of organization. We take the vegetable world in the first instance. We find plants distributed in various regions. We find them in a suitable region per forming their functions, — growing, flowering, seed ing, and propagating their kind, with health and vigour. In a less suitable region we find the same plant growing and flowering, but not seeding, and not capable of propagating its kind. In a still less THE LAW OF DETERIORATION. 153 suitable region, or in still more adverse circumstances, we find the plant growing, but not flowering. And, finally, we find the plant, in extreme circumstances of unsuitability, only feebly holding on by life, stunted and scarcely even recognisable, — a poor, wretched specimen of an organization placed in circumstances which nature never intended. This fact, which appears to be universal with regard to all organization, may be termed the law of deterioration. In the animal kingdom the same law will be found, to a greater or less extent, where- ever man removes animals from those circumstances which accord with their organic construction. The horse worked in the dark will become blind, — the sheep, in certain localities, will grow hair instead of wool, — -the dog will degenerate into a hairless cur, — • and so forth. The same law applies to man, physically, intel lectually, and morally. Physically, the law may be said to apply almost as universally as it does to the animal or vegetable kingdom. Man, long exposed to extreme circumstances of want, improper shelter, and the absence of the physical requirements which are essential to the well-being of his bodily organiza tion, will deteriorate in the very structure of his frame. The Bushman is a deteriorated man ; and the Irish, in some districts, have assumed a physical form that distinctly marks the influence of habitual suffering. The stature decreases, — the body becomes developed in the more animal region of the abdomen, — the muscular system dwindles,— the 154 THE A PRIORI ARGUMENT. nervous system diminishes in proportion to the osseous structure, — the jaw projects, — the bones of the face assume a predominance over the relative size of the forehead, — and the man, quite distinctly and unde niably, has acquired a form that approaches nearer to that of the lower animals. This condition of deterioration involves with it an intellectual and moral deterioration, which might, however, take place separately from special causes. Long con tinued education has an influence on the capabilities of a race in almost every direction in which the human faculties can be employed. Were we to take, for instance, twenty Kaffir children, and twenty children from one of our sea-port towns, and endeavour to make them sailors, we should find the Kaffirs extremely inefficient. Were we, on the con trary, to endeavour to make them herders of cattle, we should find a species of instinctive adaption for this mode of life, marking, to some extent, the trans mission of certain tastes and habits. Now, civilised man is man under a long course of intellectual instruction, running through a hundred different channels — and savage man is man under a long course of moral and intellectual neglect. That man can deteriorate, physically, intellectually, and morally, is one of the great facts of man's na tural history ; and that there are deteriorated men on the surface of the globe, is also a fact, — indeed, all men may be termed more or less deteriorated men. This fact belongs to our argument in the following manner : — If, in studying the true characters of a ve getable, we ought not to look to a deteriorated plant ; THE LAW OF DETERIORATION. 155 and if, in studying the characters of an animal, we ought not to look to a deteriorated individual or race ; so, in studying man, and in asking especially what are his higher characteristics, we ought not to look to deteriorated tribes, for there we shall cer tainly find certain qualities, if not in abeyance, at least in a very low state of development. If the plant cease to bear seed in extreme circumstances, we are not thence to infer, that it is not the nature of the plant to bear seed ; and so, even if we were to find a nation or tribe so degraded that we could not detect their acknowledgment of a God, we must not thence infer that man was not made to worship God. Universality in this case is an erroneous test of truth, and the argument of universality is fallacious ; that is, if it were found that man did not universally pos sess some religion, this in reality would be no objec tion to religious truth : it would only be a proof that man could be deteriorated to a lower point than we had previously supposed. We conclude, then, that it would neither destroy nor even weaken the theological argument, if a tribe of men were found among whom we could not re cognise the traces of a theology. Because, to dis cover the true characteristics of man, and especially his higher characteristics, we must not study man degraded and deteriorated, but must study man in his most favourable development, — where he is per forming the largest number of functions, cultivating the highest faculties, acting upon the highest mo tives, and achieving the highest ideal of life. That is, we must study Christian man. 156 THE A PRIORI ARGUMENT. And again, this view — that man passes at once from his own consciousness to the idea of a personal God, without the intermediate induction of nature — does to a very remarkable extent explain to us the diversity of religions, and the degraded forms of re ligion which prevail upon the surface of the globe. That which is true of the idol is true of the false con ception, — " He marketh it out with the compass, and maketh it after the figure of a man." On the one hand, mankind will sink God into nature; on the other, into humanity. Pantheism and Anthropo- theism, or a combination of these, will explain almost every false religion that has been professed by the human race ; and as both systems are capable of pro ducing error, so both systems are capable of produc ing truth, — 'that is, not truth in its full development, but some truth. Both systems are capable of throw ing light on the theologie argument. Both are errors, yet errors of such a nature, that they indicate truths of the highest import, and furnish us with a certain amount of material, which, when purged from impurity, may be wrought into a fabric of sound and stable argument. The pantheistic error must be transformed into an exhibition of God's power, wis dom, and goodness, as illustrated in his natural creation, while the anthropotheistic error must be transformed into a moral theology, discoursing of man's moral nature, and building on all that can be learnt from it, some reasonable conclusion as to the moral attributes of the divine Creator. We turn, then, to the a posteriori argument. BOOK IV. THE A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT. BOOK IY. THE A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT. CHAPTER I. DEFINITION OF ARGUMENT, AND FOBMAL STATEMENT OF THE LAWS OF CAUSATION. The a posteriori argument has been advanced by some distinguished writers as antagonistic to the a priori argument. This view cannot be admitted. Both are portions of one and the same argument ; and neither is sufficient by itself alone, because each region — the objective and the subjective — contains phenomena which the other region does not contain. Hence, it is a vain question to ask, whether the a posteriori argument be better than the a priori argument. The term better cannot here refer to logical conclusiveness, if the two arguments require to be combined before the argument is really com plete. It can only refer to the quality which makes either argument more impressive for certain minds, which may be cast in a mould to receive the one and . neglect the other, or to overlook the merits which belong to a special train of reasoning which has no 160 THE A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT. attractions for the particular form of their understand ing. Thus, the metaphysician, who dwells habitually amid high abstractions, will attach most importance to the a priori scheme, which involves the idea of necessary existence and of infinity, when time and space are taken into consideration. Nothing less than infinity will satisfy the requirements of his intellect, and he perceives (or imagines that he per ceives) that an induction from the objective universe can never reach infinity. On the contrary, the man of less subtle habit — who dwells rather in the region of the understanding, or whose powerful imagination requires some apprehension of reality, that it may compass the wisdom, beauty, harmony, and order of nature — will naturally endeavour to apprehend, not so much the fact of God's existence and infinity, (truths which he does not deny, although he reflects not how they came to his mind,) as the character of the Divine Being displaying itself in the wonderful works of creation. He knows that God is, but he wishes, by tracing God's hand, to make himself acquainted with the manner in which God orders the economy of the universe, and thence to infer the attributes of God from a special study of his works. He finds that thus, and thus only, does the presence of God assume a full and vital reality. God not only is, but is everywhere, ordering all events in the natural universe, reigning as the universal Sovereign, creating all things by his power, and ruling all things by his wisdom. In every phenomenon of nature, therefore, he perceives the attributes of God; and THE UNIVERSAL AXIOM. 161 from the character of the phenomena, he infers to some extent the character of the attributes, and hence the character of the Divine Being. And as in every portion of his knowledge of nature, he finds two elements, namely, the objective element, or fact, and the subjective element, or reasoning, he con cludes that the very same God who made nature, made also his reason, and, consequently, that the God of nature is one with the God of his intuition ; and thus he unites the two regions into one, regarding them both as the productions of the same Divine hand, and as the correlatives of each other. Let us, then, endeavour to define the a posteriori argument, to divide it into its species, to estimate its value, to show in what it is insufficient if taken alone, and to show how it may be combined with what we have termed the a priori formula, in which formula there was an assumption of fact, or blank proposition. This blank proposition is now to be filled with realities derived from a posteriori observation. The a posteriori argument is an endeavour to infer the MAJOR CAUSE of the universe from the minor effects of the universe. It therefore proceeds on the universal principle of causation, which expresses itself in the axiom, "Every change must, have a cause;" and to this axiom is annexed the coincident proposition, " Every cause must be of such a nature as to account for the character of the change." Hence, "From the character of the change we may infer the character of the cause." 162 THE A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT. Change is a matter of observation ; but when change is viewed under the general intuition of causation, it is termed effect. The unchangeable requires no cause ; all changes are effects of some prior cause. Hence, again, "From the character of the effect we may infer the character of the cause, so far forth as the effect extends." The latter clause is important. A cause must always be as great as the effect, but it may be indefinitely greater, and, consequently, we can reason from the effect only so far forth as the effect extends. First, — Of Changes. § 1. Analytic. — Change must be either absolute or relative. I call absolute the coming into existence, or the going out of existence. These are termed crea tion and annihilation. Creation and annihilation are absolute changes. I call relative all changes in time, space, quantity, and quality, or in any of those abstract categories into which the human reason locates existences and events. These categories, although they may, for the most part, be ranged under the heads of quantity and quality, are conveniently distinguished by specific names as, for instance, order, motion, velocity, direction, colour, temperature, tone, weight, affinity, vitality, sensa tion, emotion, &c, &c. These categories indicate con veniently certain regions of change which we abstract out of the perpetual flowing of the universe, and consider separately for specific investigation. Of creation it is not necessary to say much, ABSOLUTE CHANGE. 163 because the argument lies in a very small compass, and is not capable of extended illustration. It is an undoubted certainty that creation has taken place ; and those who have appeared to deny the fact, have, in reality, only endeavoured to dispute the character of the Creator. Even those who assure us that animals are produced, at first, according to some natural law, and under the agency of some inherent power of matter, do, by no means, obviate the necessity of a Creator. They assume that this power is the creating agent, and, consequently, the ques tion with them is not whether there is or is not a Creator, but whether the creative power be of one kind or another. With regard to matter itself, I confess that it is extremely difficult to affirm, as a proposition con clusively established, that matter must have been created ; that there was a time when there was no matter, and again a time when matter had come into being out of nothing, save a creative will. We are assured (from revelation) that all things depend on God, and that all existence originates with him. But that is not the question. The question is this : Let a portion of matter be given, have we, from any ex amination of the matter itself, any conclusive evi dence that it must have been created ? — that is, are we actually compelled to think that there must have been a time when this portion of matter did not exist ? I confess, I say, that I do not see any a pos teriori argument which would compel me so to think; and though I cannot think matter eternal, neither 164 THE A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT. do I think it non-eternal ; that is, I leave the ques tion unsolved, because I have no sufficient data to guide my understanding. Matter is, but how it came into existence I cannot ascertain from any examina tion of its material. From the question of absolute creation, therefore, I retire, until I shall have ac quired some experience of the phenomenal or relative changes. When we turn to relative change, we are in the region of the conditioned. In space we are in a de terminate point; but above us, beneath us, on the right hand and the left, is the limitless. We are at a centre, but without the possibility, even, of imagin ing a circumference. In time we are at a present, and have some knowledge of a past ; but, before the knowable past lies the limitless eternity, and after us, in the future, lies the ever and ever to which no boundary can be assigned. All that we can know in the region of experience is conditioned, relative, comparable, and finite. It neither reaches infinity in the category of quantity, nor absolute cause, or substance, in the region of quality. It may be super sensible, as we have proven with regard to force, but still not ultimate. The whole universe of expe rience is, in fact, only the minor term of a universal syllogism, of which the major is the unconditioned deliverance of the abstract reason. In time and in space, therefore, all that we can know through experience is finite. In quantity, all that we can know through experience is relative, — nothing and infinity are equally unconstruable to QUALITY. 165 human thought, as positive apprehensions. How ever great our experience maybe, it must stop short of the absolute infinite; and, on the other hand, nothing is a mere negation of thought, of which we can have no experience. Consequently, all that we can know in quantity lies between nothing and in finity, which is the region of the conditioned, the comparative, the relative. Hence all possible affirma tions in quantity, all possible measurements, must assume an arbitrary standard ; which is, indeed, the fact in every science that involves both quantity and experience. One, in arithmetic, is absolute, be cause pure arithmetic is abstract ; but one, applied to any science of experience, is arbitrary, — as a foot, yard, mile, in linear measurement, — a yard, pole, acre, &c, — an ounce, pound, ton, &c, — a pint, gallon, hogshead ; that is, wherever we introduce an actual experience into the abstract formulse of quantity, we must assume a gauge or standard which is arbitrary and not absolute, — that is, the whole of our experi mental knowledge is conditioned and relative. Quality is one of the universal categories of human thought. It pervades all possible cognition. What ever is, has its quality. But here also we are re stricted to limits, contrasts, differences, and cannot from experience affirm that we know absolute quali ties. We do not from experience know the abso lute cause of the universe, nor the absolute substance of the universe ; but, under the absolute, we know many causes and substances which are distinguished from each other, not merely in quantity or degree^ 166 THE A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT. but in quality. Thus, for instance, heat differs from cold in degree ; but it differs from weight in quality. Heavy and light differ in degree; but weight differs from motion in quality. Motions differ in degree when they are fast or slow ; but motion differs from colour in quality. Hardness and softness differ in degree; but both differ in quality from geometric form, &c. Taking the great items of the cognisable universe, we say that space differs in quality from time, and that matter differs in quality from mind; that mental properties differ in quality from ma terial properties; and that moral emotions differ in quality from those perceptions which are merely in tellectual. Hence, then, the great object of research in a science of nature, is the enumeration of the qualities of nature, and the determination of the quantities under which the qualities are manifested to the human cognition. According to the qualities found in nature, so do we infer corresponding, correlative, or efficient causes, which, we are constrained to presume, must exist anteriorly, or otherwise the qualities could not have existed. The moment we abandon the pantheistic doctrine, which makes all that is, God, that moment do we compel ourselves to think that there is a potence which originates each quality in particular ; and hence, if we have a theory of the nature which is seen, we must, at the same time, have a theory of the nature which is not seen, — the super-nature, or invisible. And the super- nature must necessarily, in the human apprehension, THE SCHEME OF KNOWLEDGE. 167 be sufficient to account for the existence and the form of that nature with which we are more directly cognisant. In viewing, then, science analytically (science being nature in cognition), we must divide it into certain large categories, which involve distinctive qualities. And in making a division, we may use a scheme which has been adopted by some recent writers, and which is perhaps as simple and as com plete as any other. First, then, we have the form of knowledge, which, in one way or another, lies in the syllogism. The syllogism duly elaborated contains the whole me chanism of knowledge; and though the inductive philosophy affects to despise the syllogism, the in ductive philosophy (or method of research) is only the writing out of one of the propositions of a very general syllogism. The whole mass of inductive science is only the minor proposition of one great syllogism, which has for its major proposition meta- physic, or the abstract form of thought. Next to logic, comes the consideration of discrete quantity, continuous quantity, space, time, and pos sible motion — in which we find the whole of the mathematical sciences and dynamics. Next comes the world of matter, inorganic and organic, mineral, vegetable, and animal. Next comes the world of man, with all. the human relations. In each of these various regions we find peculiar qualities. Each, as we progress, opens up a certain 168 THE A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT. revelation of Nature. Each furnishes a certain quantity of material with which we must construct our major theory of the universe. Each science asks, in its own department, " What qualities ? in what quantities ? in what relations ? " And each re gion, as we proceed from logic onwards to anthro pology, gives us new qualities. Thus, in mathematics, we have no material properties ; in inorganic nature, we have no presence of a complex series of organs all arranged together, so as to form an individual, whether plant or animal ; in the vegetable kingdom we have no sensation and volition; in the merely animal world, we have no intellectual apprehension of nature for the purpose of achieving science and progressive art; and so forth. As we rise higher and higher, we find new qualities superadded to those that preceded ; and, consequently, if we are to draw any inference from the qualities found in nature, we must attend most carefully to those qualities that present themselves in the last or highest region of research, for there we shall find furthest entrance into the mystery of Nature. The whole analogy of science teaches us, that we shall find there qualities which do not present themselves in any other region; and, consequently, if man be the highest object sub mitted to direct study, it is in man, and man in his highest capacities, functions, and employments, that we find Nature's last word and most important revela tion. If we can obtain an answer to this question, "What is man's highest quality? what is man in his ultimate capacity ? what is man, not merely in THE SCIENCES. 169 his mechanism, but in his end and purpose?" then we have the farthest insight into the universe that Nature can give us, and the deepest knowledge that can be acquired by the exercise of our natural faculties. Now, as the different regions present us with dif ferent qualities, so do they present us with different changes. In the inorganic world we observe one species of change ; in the organic, another species ; in the intellectual, another ; and in the moral, an other. And the examination of these changes, or specific series of changes, constitutes science in each department. Each science, then, or each class of sciences, does virtually bring to theology a certain contribution of a certain specific character. We err, I think, and err greatly, when we endeavour to found theology on any one department of science, — whether astronomy or physiology, for instance, — because one science can only teach that which is proper to itself, and being limited, either in quantity or quality, it fails to ex hibit the phases presented by some other science. It is not by the study of one department of nature that we shall ever arrive at a satisfactory theology, but by the study of all departments, and by the combination of all the results into one member of an equation, — which equation must necessarily have an other member, as we shall show when we proceed to the synthetic of change. § 2. Synthetic. — In analysis we can do no more than divide a class into its genera, a genus into its 170 THE A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT. species, a species into its individuals, and an indi vidual into its component parts. In synthesis (that is, in the synthetic proposition, not merely in the synthesis of an analysed individual), we conjoin, by a necessary law of our intellection, two terms which have no relation of container and contained. Perhaps, indeed, it is not correct to say that we conjoin them. They are conjoined, from the mere fact of their appearance in the mind. They conjoin themselves, without aid or effort of ours; and they conjoin themselves, not merely in an abstract proposition, but in every real circumstance which the mind apprehends. The abstract proposition is nothing more than the expression of a universal form of thought, which pursues the mind wherever the mind operates. We may state this proposition, or we may refrain from stating it, but it accom panies us in all our efforts of intelligence. It rules us, in fact, and we can in nowise escape from it. We may mistake the best mode of expressing it ; nay, we may even deny its validity, when it is stated as a barren proposition ; but no sooner does the mind begin to operate on some material, than the vital proposition will appear in all its plenitude, because it is only a form of intellection. 1. The first synthesis which we make regarding change is, — " Every change must have a cause." Where we have two terms (change and cause), and the imperative copula between them. It is evident that, analytically, change does not contain cause, nor SYNTHETIC LAWS. 171 cause change, because the change is something diffe rent from the cause. The change is the result of the operation of the cause, — the cause being a subject, and the change a result. Where we have a transi tive change, we have three distinct items essentially distinguished from each other ; we have, — (1 .) The cause, or agent operating ; (2.) The object operated upon ; (3.) The result, or change. I have proven, while treating of Scepticism, that a cause is absolutely requisite in all scientific re search that involves a dynamic phenomenon. I need not, therefore, enter again on the justification of the axiom. 2. The second synthesis is, — That " Every change must have a cause of such a quality, as to account for the change." Seeing that there are in Nature various qualities that appear to have no direct connection (as, for instance, material qualities and moral qualities, — wisdom has no imaginable relation to hardness or sound), we must carefully guard against the assump tion of a cause which is only sufficient to account for one department of Nature. This limited and exclu sive method of studying Nature is fatal to all genuine philosophy, — it lands us infallibly in partial and in adequate views of Nature, corrupting science into a vain and impertinent scepticism, and presumptu ously supposes that the mean and beggarly elements of a little knowledge can be set against the majesty of truth. 172 THE A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT. If we find in Nature a moral world as well as a material world, we must consider the cause of the material world, not as sufficient, but only as the pre liminary, — as the stepping-stone, — as affording an insight into attributes that otherwise might have escaped us, but by no means as complying with the conditions of the problem. Not that the cause of the material world is in itself different from the cause of the moral world, but in our apprehension. The one is to us a cause in which we recognise power and skill, — but the other is a cause which involves the far more imminent qualities of personality and right eousness ; and hence, if we were to base our reason ings on the former alone, we should reason, — not erroneously, but as imperfectly, as inadequately, as if we were to reason of the laws of Nature from the inorganic world, and to omit all consideration of the vegetable and animal world. Hence, in all our reasonings, we must take into consideration all the qualities that lie within our experience, for if we do not, we shall fail to appre hend some of the attributes of the cause of Nature. 3. The third synthesis is, — That "Every change must have a cause of suffi cient quantity to account for the change." This principle is as important as the other, be cause in two directions we find the limitless. First, in the objective of space and time; and, second, in the subjective of moral obligation. To neither can we assign limits : we have two infinites ; and whatever the cause be, that cause must necessarily, in our SYNTHETIC LAWS. 173 apprehension, follow the law of quantitative correla tion. If, for instance, we admit the existence of a moral Lawgiver, we cannot admit that Lawgiver to be in any wise inferior to the categorical imperative of our moral nature ; and if that imperative be ab solute, — that is, infinitely perfect in its quality of requirement, — we are at once constrained to transfer to the Lawgiver the ascertained character of the law. If the law be in any direction infinite, so must the Lawgiver be infinite in the correlative direction ; not infinite in space, for we speak not here of space, but infinite in moral supremacy, — that is, requiring perfect and limitless obedience. These three laws are the a priori preparations of the human reason for the elaboration of a posteriori truth. These laws render truth possible ; without them, truth would be as impossible to man as it is to the lower animals, which see the world with their eyes, but see it not with reason. If the moral law of obligation, which the mind finds within itself, be termed the categorical impera tive, the law of causation, which the reason finds within itself, may be termed the categorical indi cative, — as pointing out that which the reason ne cessarily admits in its contemplation of phenomena. The one fixes on the mind what it ought to do, the other fixes on the mind what it must believe. Considering, then, these laws as absolutely indis putable, — and they must be so considered so long as dynamic and astronomic science remain, — we pro ceed to investigate the a posteriori argument. BOOK IV. THE A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT. CHAPTER II. THE ARGUMENT STATED. § 1. That the Cause of nature and the Cause of mind is one and the same. I have defined the a posteriori argument as an endeavour to infer the Major Cause of the universe from the minor effects of the universe. This very definition proves to us at once, that an argument by induction cannot possibly be altogether a posteriori ; it must involve a certain portion of the a priori element. This proposition I consider of the most radical importance, inasmuch as the coin cident presence of the two elements proves a common origin for both the reason, or the subjective universe, and the external world, or objective universe. The question may be proposed in the following terms : — External to ourselves, we behold the universe of matter existing in space. Internally, we are consci ous of thought and emotion — of our own existence. What is the connecting link that proves a common THE UNITY OF THE FIRST CAUSE. 175 design between the external world and the internal world ? This is found in the elaboration of systematic thought, which involves both elements. Let us endeavour to prove this point as the first division of the argument. Its importance will be seen hereafter, when we come to depart farther and farther from matter on the one hand, or from self on the other. If we establish a definite connection between matter and the me, and if we prove that matter and the me are created, or do exist under a homogeneity of construction, then we have clear ground for assigning the same cause to those portions of mental consciousness that have no relation to matter, and to those portions of the external uni verse that have no relation to the peculiar attribute of mind — namely, moral consciousness. If we find the connecting link, we may pursue the chain on either side, and project our argument either into the region of space, or into the depths of our moral con sciousness, — satisfied that we have hold of the same universe in both cases, even though we may be in regions where we have lost sight of one portion of the knowable world. First, then, we may establish the connection between mind and matter through the ordinary argument, which bases on the existence of our organised frame, and the obedience of the muscular action to the dictates of the volition. Our body is the seat of sensation, and it is also, like any other portion of matter, subject to observation. It is in 176 THE A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT. one sense subjective and objective ; and the obedience of the muscular motion to the will, has been advanced as establishing the connection between the objective and the subjective world. This argument I leave for as much as it may be worth. It seems to me a mere rude appeal to a fact, which was known thousands of years since, as well as it is known to-day. The fact is a primary, and, I confess, I see little instruction in any appeal to a mere primary fact. It is quite otherwise with the second argument, which grows with the growth of knowledge, expands with each new triumph of the human intellect, en larges with the domain of reason, and runs on, ever tending more and more to subdue apparent diversity into the harmonious beauty of an intelligent crea tion. It is Science. Having already proven that man can and does arrive at the knowledge of supersensible noumena, I have now only concisely to criticise the form of science, and to exhibit what portion is derived from reason, and what portion from observation. We may take astronomy as an illustration, — and the method of astronomy represents essentially the method of every other physical science. Man has, and always has had, the phenomena of the planetary bodies before his eyes ; he, therefore, stands primarily in this position : — lEmE' I contemplating \ The Planetai7 Reason, ) ( phenomena. UNION OF REASON AND NATURE. 177 This is the attitude of man at his outset in the pursuit of astronomic knowledge. But man has not always had astronomic science. Science is an elaboration, an achievement, an acqui sition. It is something made and done, something new introduced into the world, something that pro gresses, that waxes more and more accurate, more and more complete. It is neither sense and reason on the one hand, nor objective phenomenon on the other. It is something that lies between the two terms, and that unites them into a scheme of system atic knowledge, which, once achieved, is the same for all men alike. It contains, I say, portions of both elements. It never is achieved until it has suc ceeded in uniting the intuitions of reason with the apparent phenomena of nature. When achieved, it enters as a new term between the two primary terms; and the new position is this: — Sense. ) . (Objective Reason, ) (Phenomena. Science is thus the union between the subject and the object; and never till that union is effected is science placed on an indisputable basis. We have then in the phenomenon, — Apparent Size \ Apparent Positions > of the planetary bodies. Apparent Motions ) M 178 THE A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT. And in the science we have — Real Size, (by calculation.) Real Positions, C by rational ) Real Motions, j explication. ^ The objects in the science are the same in indivi duality, but essentially different in their character istics from the apparent phenomena. Now, even granting that all this may be termed the a posteriori element, (which is making too large an admission, inasmuch as the real size, real posi tions, and real motions, cannot be determined with out the element of mathematic, which element is rational, and not phenomenal,) yet there remains another item, quite as necessary for the construction of science as even the phenomenon itself, — namely, force. Without force there can be no astronomic science ; there may be the preliminary observation, but no science, — science being a logical scheme, which must have a logical construction, and must permit of reasoning according to the laws of logic. Force, then, is an item introduced exclusively by the reason, — motion being introduced by observation ; and never until such a force is discovered, as would logically account for the motions, can we say that science has attained to permanent stability. Consequently, science contains a purely rational element, as well as a purely objective element; and, consequently, as science is the catholic truth of the human race, absolutely the same for all who can un derstand it, and as it contains the objective and the SCIENCE. 179 subjective elements, and as when once achieved it is immutable and indisputable, it is the valid and un deniable proof that the objective universe of space, and the subjective universe of mind, are in reality only the separate elements of one and the same universe ; and, consequently, if we find the Cause of the one, we find the Cause of the other. Let us make this clear, as our present position is the stepping-stone to future speculation. Science, we say, is the composite of both the objective and the subjective, both of the phenomenon and the reason. Thus : — Reason. Science. Phenomenon. Let us suppose that the reason were obliterated, the phenomenon would remain exactly as it was before, but science would disappear. Let us suppose that the phenomenon were obliterated, reason would remain, but science would still disappear. Or, if we do not suppose that either were to dis appear, let us suppose that from the science of actual astronomy we were to drop out the concrete phenomena, what would remain? The general science of dynamics and the mathematical elements. On the other hand, let us drop out the forces and the rational elements, and there would remain only the record of facts unwoven into system, — the natural history of the planetary bodies. To constitute science, both elements are absolutely necessary ; and as science is that systematic form of knowledge which must, wherever it is perfected, 180 THE A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT. produce a unity of belief so far forth as it extends, science affords the most indubitable evidence that the external and the internal world have the same com mon origin, and that the Cause of external nature is the same with the Cause of the moral world within us. True, we may depart either on the one hand into the region of objectivity, or on the other, into the depths of our moral consciousness ; but having established the link of connection, we establish that if there be a cause at all, it is one and the same cause, — and thus we project into the realm of space a moral cause, and into the realm of morals a cause of nature. Thus, then, we have endeavoured to prove, that whatever be the cause of the universe, it is the same in the two great divisions of nature and mind. That this proposition is necessary to a complete argument, is apparent from the fact, that the pursuit of a cause of external nature has led to Pantheism and other dangerous errors, while the partial and erroneous pursuit of a moral cause, unchecked by a study of nature, and unenlightened by the sober reception of the Holy Scriptures, has given rise to many mystical sects, whose members usually end in the utmost profligacy of life and manners. § 2. Of the Cause of External Nature. In this portion of the argument we are generally presented with a very large amount of illustration, and a very small proportion of argumentation. Dis sertations on Natural History, from the vast region of astronomy, down to the minute description of the design. 181 human hand, or even to the microscopic examination of insect life, are advanced as treatises on Natural Theology ; and, no doubt, these works are eminently interesting and impressive to those who already are prepared to assign an orthodox Cause to all the phe nomena of Nature. No doubt, we may learn much, and be much instructed, and to no small extent edi fied, by a search into the wisdom of God, as displayed in his works of natural creation. No doubt, these treatises tend to confirm the mind in the habitual belief of God's presence in all the operations of Nature, to expand the mind by the contemplation of the multitude of God's works, and excite wonder by the exhibition of God's extreme carefulness for all his creatures. Where the mind is prepared to see the Divine Wisdom in every evidence of design, and the Divine Power in every evidence of gigantic phe nomena, and the Divine Goodness in every evidence of construction and adaptation suited to the sentient inhabitants of the globe, there the illustrations are eminently good food for man, nourishing him with knowledge, and strengthening him with stronger faith, hope, and reliance. How can He, who so careth for the least of the beings he has called into life, be negligent of man, indifferent to the wants of those who were created in the divine image, heedless of their earnest cryings and desires, regardless of their mortal fate, inexorable to their repentance? For them, Nature is no senigma, but the handiwork of their heavenly Father; and they trace his hand with the unreserved belief, that they are contemplating 182 THE A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT. the paternal wisdom and goodness, and that they are obtaining further and further insight into the method of the divine operation. All this, in fact, is strictly true, so far as certain individuals are concerned ; but they sometimes for get to ask the question, " What, after all, is the real value of the argument ? " What is its value, not to those who already believe in God through revela tion, but what is its value to man as man, to human intellect as intellect ? What is its real import in the logical construction of a general theological argu ment ? What is its value, not merely for edification, but for demonstration ? These questions are too much overlooked. I shall, therefore, endeavour to examine the logical value of an inductive argument, based on the evidences of design found in the construction of Nature. It is plain that here we may have two starting- points : we may start from our intuitions, and in stantly project an Infinite Person who is our author, and then we may further inquire at Nature into the attributes of this causal Being ; or, we may make the realm of Nature purely objective, and draw such in ferences as we consider valid under the ordinary laws of causation. The latter is the course adopted, or supposed to be adopted, in all those arguments which (like Paley's) proceed on the discovery of the adaptation of means to an end. Let us, then, consider how much Nature does actually teach us under the ordinary laws of causa tion, but excluding all reflection upon Self. DESIGN. 183 This, in fact, is the only legitimate attitude of the argument. The mind ought to be entirely subjec tive, — that is, in spontaneous operation, — that is, not projected on the field of observation, — that is, kept entirely out of sight. And the question is, What could we then, and in these circumstances, learn from an induction of Nature, — either astronomic, mechanic, mineralogic, chemic, or physiologic, — but, in the meantime, omitting psychologic man, as man has special qualities which fall to be considered hereafter 1 It is admitted on all hands, that there is in nature an adaptation of means to an end. A few recent writers (Comte, &c.) have endeavoured to turn this admission aside, by the allegation, that, of course, all things are in conditions suitable to their nature, for otherwise they could not exist, or, at all events, could not perform their functions. That they do perform their functions is (say the positive materialists) only another mode of saying, that they are in circum stances suited to the performance of the functions. This crude but specious objection might have some weight, if the world contained only isolated indivi duals, having no relation to each other ; but it can have no weight against series, — for, instance the com position of an animal out of extremely complex series of organs, all of which, in certain relations, are abso lutely necessary. Or, again, the composition of the vegetable kingdom out of series of groups having distinct relations to each other, and holding out a good hope that the secret of classification will be so 184 THE A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT. far unravelled, that man shall have a reason for each separate genus of plants — nay, it may be, for each separate species. Or, again, if matter performed irregular or uncertain functions, there might be some reason for saying, that the fact of its function only proved that it was in circumstances to function. But this objection is utterly vain and futile against actual nature, in which we find mathematical ratios per vading so many departments, which ratios enable man to make rational calculations, even where he cannot possibly carry his direct experience. There is far more in nature than the mere performance of a function, — there is a long, careful, elaborate, and most complex preparation for the performance ; and this fact, which is altogether indubitable, completely destroys all such summary and crude objections as those advanced by the materialistic school. We need not endeavour to illustrate this portion of the argument by the detailed description of any one portion of material nature. Many able volumes have been written on the proofs of design, and these can easily be referred to. However interesting these works may be, they are, in fact, only repetitions of one single proposition — namely, that there is in na ture the adaptation of means to an end. Whole libraries of illustration might be written, each volume exhibiting the wonders of creation in some special form or aspect; but though these works would greatly conduce to our knowledge of nature, they would not render the theological argument more logically valid than one single illustration well chosen DESIGN. 185 and properly exhibited. A single small portion of the human skin would exhibit design quite as really and quite as logically as the whole region of astro nomy, — the human hand, quite as much as the whole animal creation, — a single leaf, quite as much as the whole vegetable kingdom. It is by no means on the amount of illustration, but on the validity of the argument, that we must fix our attention, this being far more important than the mere repetition (how ever brilliant) of propositions which are not called in question. There is in nature the adaptation of means to an end, and this proposition may be proven by the ex amination of any portion of organised nature, and by multitudes of relations which exist among the various portions of inorganic nature. The solar system, the terrestrial seasons, the climatic distribution of plants and animals, the generation of plants, their mecha nical structure, their growth, fruition, and reproduc tion of species, the birth of animals, the conditions of the young, the care of the parent, the climatic organ ization, and, often, transformation, the structural ana tomy, the physiology of organs and series of organs, nutrition, respiration, — the whole natural history of the world, in fact, is teeming with perpetual illus tration of the fact, that nature is constructed on a principle that shows adaptation of means to an end. But the question is, after all, " What does this adaptation of means to an end prove?" Does it prove, in and by itself alone, and con sidered objectively, the existence of God? 186 THE A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT. I am aware that this question is generally answered in the affirmative by Christian writers; but I am also aware that zeal sometimes outruns discretion, and that a wholesale inference of the Divine attri butes is sometimes made with a very slender regard to logic. To infer from any department of Nature, more than that department can legitimately teach, is not to strengthen the evidences of the truth, but to weaken them, and to place the casuist, or even the more candid sceptic, in the position of justly charging the argument with unsupported assump tion. It is, in fact, better to prove too little than too much, because it sometimes only requires the mind to be directed into a certain train of thinking, to work out for itself the deeper consequences which have not been announced ; whereas, if we step beyond the bounds of legitimate conclusion, we peril our whole argument. If we are weak enough to state, not what we really do find, but what we wish to find, we are deceiving ourselves, and our opponents may be apt to believe that we are attempting to deceive them,- — a result that must be fatal to all our efforts. We shall, therefore, examine this argument quite irrespective of all previous writings on the subject ; and if we conclude that it proves less than has some times been supposed, we hope to point out another argument that proves all we may require. First, With regard to the existence of matter. Does the mere existence of matter prove (by itself alone), that matter must have been created by an intelligent power ? MATTER. 187 Perhaps not. If matter were chaotic, — that is, if it presented no formal arrangement, — we are acquainted with no reason sufficient to make us infer that it must have been created, any more than we are com pelled to believe that space must have been created ; and space, as I have before shown, is distinguished from nothing, inasmuch as it is the condition of ma terial existence, and can have its portions and forms geometrically measured and compared. Neither is it necessary to believe matter eternal, because its mere existence is insufficient to prove (to us) the existence of a Creator. We neither believe it eternal nor non-eternal, — that is, we regard its origin as in explicable, and merely confess that we have no means by which we can solve the mystery of its existence. We consider, then, that the mere existence of matter does not prove any thing whatever that can be satis factorily advanced as theological argument. If we saw matter coming into being, the case would be different ; but as the sum total of matter appears to remain the same, we set down this question among the things that are insoluble to the natural reason. Second, As to the form of matter. Here we have entirely different ground to go on. We observe the generation, accomplishment, and termination of phe nomena ; we measure definitely the changes, arrive at the laws of the phenomena, and finally determine the forces or proximate causes, which, acting in given conditions and circumstances, would produce the phenomena. Matter is undoubtedly arranged, weighed, measured, 188 THE A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT. proportioned, shaped, and constructed, with an evident eye to the achievement of a purpose ; and both the construction and the purpose are comprehensible by the human reason. We have not here to do with chaos, but with the most surpassing variety and complexity of design, — with the most consummate beauty of arrangement, — with the most wonderful ingenuity, both in the selection of material and its peculiar adaption to given conditions. We have to do with skill displayed in prodigal profusion ; we have Nature instinct with order, wisdom, and the most perfect calculation, — revelling at once in the most prodigious variety of forms, in the most incompar able beauty of appearance, and in the most wonder ful exhibitions of mechanical contrivance. VYhether, then, matter have or have not a creative cause, it is plainly evident that matter has a formative cause, and that there is a Presiding Power which superintends the material creation, and causes it to assume forms of a distinctive character. This is necessary by our first synthetic law of causation : " Every change must have a cause." § 3. The second synthetic law which we apply to the solution of natural phenomena is, "Every change must have a cause of such a quality as to account for the change." This is a universal law of physical science. So long as a special class of natural phenomena cannot be identified with another class, a special cause (with a special name) is assigned as the potential agent ; but if it so happen, that a cause already known be SPECIAL ARRANGEMENTS. 189 found sufficient, then the special cause is merged into the more general one, and the special name sinks into the index of a specific group of phenomena, which forms part of a more extensive genus. Two suppositions are here open to us : either that matter is endowed with the property of arranging itself in certain forms, and of performing certain dynamic functions, or that it is also acted on by some extraneous force. In the first place, it is true that matter has, to a very large extent (if not to a universal extent, — a proposition which could scarcely be proven), a forma tive tendency, which seems to be inherent in the matter itself according to its kind, — hence crystalliza tion. Different kinds of matter will assume different forms. Again, in the case of gravity, where we consider matter as a mass, we may say that the force of gravity belongs to the matter, and is one of its dynamic qualities, as distinguished from its static qualities. And so also with chemical, magnetic, and electric powers. All these may be viewed as residing in the matter itself, and as forming portions of the ori ginal endowments of matter, which commenced we know not when. If the powers are general, that is, if they belong equally or proportionally to all portions of matter of a similar kind, they may be ranked as qualities, — and, therefore, they do not in themselves afford evidence of an extraneous power. It is quite different, however, with special forces and special arrangements. These can in no respect 190 THE A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT. be confounded with qualities or properties of matter. A property must be general in its nature, however limited it may be in its application. Thus, only one diamond in the world might be blue, but this would not be in the least extraordinary. Blueness is a general property, that may or may not apply to matter ; its accidental location is a mere matter of particular fact. What are termed accidental varie ties, prove nothing more than the plastic quality of Nature under varied circumstances. If the circum stances were general, the results would be general also. Special circumstances are those which cannot be confounded with general qualities, laws, conditions, or inherent properties. Thus, gravity is, in a parti cular sense, a quality, a law, a condition, or an inhe rent property, — and in either sense it is general. But the orbicular motion and rotatory motion of the planets cannot possibly be considered as a general property. It may be the property of matter to gravitate, but it cannot be the property of matter to divide itself into planets, and to revolve in special orbits at special velocities, and in special directions, unless there have been a primordial and initial im pulse not yet exhausted, or unless there be a contin ually sustaining power. It may also be the property of matter to assume crystalline forms, — or, indeed, any forms, — for, a priori, there can be no reason why matter should not assume any possible form ; but it cannot be the property of matter to assume the exceptional form of a vegetable or animal, without SPECIAL ARRANGEMENTS. 191 some initial force, impetus, or constructive agency. If we were to admit the possibility of such trans formations without some initial energy, we destroy the whole validity of physical science, and render its reasonings absolutely futile. This appears to be clearly proven by the fact, that any form of complex inorganic matter may be ori ginated at any time, but that we have no experience whatever of the origination of vegetative or animal life, and cannot originate the most simple vegetable production, except by reproduction, — that is, by de rivation from a parent. We know, and know with nearly as great certainty as science can give us, that the appearance of animal life on the globe, especially in its higher forms, is comparatively recent, and that man does not date above a few thousand years. We know (if science can teach) that man is only a very modern tenant of his mother-earth ; and we know also, that matter, so far from discovering a tendency to produce man, does not exhibit the faintest or most isolated instance of any such production. Gene ration, and generation alone, is the present mode of human introduction into life, — the parent and the parent's cares being absolutely requisite for the early sustenance of the infant man. And as generation must have had a commencement entirely different from itself (in fact, so far as man is concerned, a creative commencement), we are necessarily forced to the conclusion, that, at the period of man's intro duction, there was in operation an initial power, or agency, essentially distinguished from all the ordinary 192 THE A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT. potences or qualities of mere matter, — in fact, that there was a cause at work of a different character from the ordinary and stable causes of material nature. These two cases — the initial force from which the planets derive, or have derived, their motion, and the introduction of man on the surface of the globe — are sufficient for our purpose. Of course, many other cases may be adduced, as every department of science brings its contribution, its confirmation, or its special illustration. The whole history of Nature (the natural history of the world) teems with evi dence that, over and above all natural causes, there is an occult, hidden, and mysterious cause, whose existence is revealed certainly, but whose character is only very partially laid bare. It is revealed in such a manner as rather to stimulate the awe and wonder of man, than to afford him definite know ledge. It is vastly great, but how great we cannot know, — intensely wise and powerful, but how wise and how powerful we know not. It is a mysterious cause, revealed only a little, — sufficiently showing it self to make us search, but not sufficiently showing itself in the works of nature to enable us to know. It is above our comprehension, dwelling in the dim eternities, and darkly clouded in the limitless ex panse. It is there surely, but what this is we under stand not, we cannot by searching find it out. We can know a little, and only a very little, in large terms of vague generality, — an infinite mystery seems to combine with a partial revelation, — darkness with POWER. 193 the faintest glimmering of light, — awe, wonder, and fear, with the faintest ray of hope, strayed, as it were from some immortal mansion, and wandering in blessed message through the immensities of space. Such is, indeed, all we can know from the outward world of creation. It is knowledge, but knowledge folded in perpetual darkness. It is knowledge un known, — it is mystery, — it is the Invisible hiding himself from the eye of mortal. The first attribute, then, of the Cause of nature is POWER, — power over the physical creation. The extent or quantity of this power must be determined by an examination of the extent of phenomena. A cause must be, at least, as extensive as its effect, but how much greater we cannot say. That there does exist in nature a distinct power different from the qualities of matter, is a conclusion at which all researches must arrive whenever they pass through the secondary phenomena, and endea vour to probe the primary phenomena. Some initial, specific, and primordial power must have been at work when the solar system was set in motion in a specific series of directions, and under specific laws. It is true that all the secondary phenomena may have followed, and may still con tinue to follow, from the one original impulse, — com bined, as it may be, with the stable qualities of matter, — but that there must have been an initial power, different from those qualities, is an absolute necessity to the human reason. Nor does it matter how far back the process of secondary modes, laws, 194 THE A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT. mechanisms, or phenomena may be carried (it may be much farther than we at present conceive), but that there must have been somewhere, and at some time, an initial, presiding power, different from the ordinary qualities now in habitual operation — it is a conclusion forced upon the candid reason beyond all possibility of rational dispute. If, indeed, matter, and every separate particle of it, exhibited a universal tendency to arrange itself into systems, to assume an orbicular motion, and to revolve on its axis, then we should have no reason for inferring a distinctive and external power, but should reckon this tendency as one of the inherent qualities which, like gravity, would be a primary and inex plicable fact. But inasmuch as no such tendency is exhibited by matter, — and, experimentally, we cannot slicit the faintest symptom of such tendency, — and inasmuch, also, as the phenomena are positive and specific, we are absolutely constrained to affirm, that these specific phenomena must have a specific cause, of such a quality or nature as would account for them ; and this quality is, in the first place, power. Power, however, is of two kinds ; it is either effi cient or constructive. It is either of such a character as to originate phenomena, motion, combination, function, — or of such a character as to originate arrangement. In the solar system, we have the special illustration of the former ; in animal organiza tion, we have the special illustration of the latter. How did man originate ? is a question which lands POWER. 195 us at once at the consideration of a power of a dif ferent quality from the mere initial force necessary to the production of planetary motion. We are not acquainted with the origin of planetary motion ; all is mere guess, more or less supported by presumptive evidence. With the origin of man, however, we are so far acquainted, that there appears to be the most indubitable certitude that man is a very recent pro duction. History, tradition, monumental evidence, and geological science, combine to assure us of the fact, that man appeared on the globe only a few thousands of years since. Anterior to that period there is not a trace of man, nor of man's works. What the exact date may be, we cannot tell from an inspection of Nature ; but that it is within a very limited period, is borne out by the coincident judg ment of all scientific researches that appeal to facts. We assume, then, without hesitation, that man appeared on the surface of the earth only a few thousand years since. In the construction of man (as, indeed, in the construction of all organism, animal or vegetable ; and in the inorganic world, considered as a mechani cal device, or mechanism of construction,) we find the most elaborate adaptation of means to an end; and we conclude that there must be a constructive cause in Nature, as well as a potential cause. We are absolutely constrained to this conclusion, on the same principles that guide us in the ordinary calcu lation of probabilities. It is probable, beyond all calculable amount of probability, that some cause 196 THE A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT. must have presided over the formative arrangement of the animal frame. No other explanation will even approach to a possible solution ; for even let us sup pose, (as some have advanced,) that Nature would in the lapse of ages assume every possible form, this would in no wise solve the difficulty. Matter might have a tendency to assume any or all possible forms ; but this would in no degree explain the mechanism of animal construction, as presented on the earth. Matter might, under this supposition, produce an animal; but the animal kingdom does not consist of mere peculiarity of form — it involves also a long series of proportionate relations ; and no theory of accidental production, or qualitative tendency in the particles of matter, could account for the permanence of these relations, and for the double proportion which we observe in Nature. Let us take one single instance : — An animal re quires nutrition. The food or nutriment is found in the external world, and involves a vast variety of substances. It consists of vegetable and animal productions, in an immense number of different forms. The food, then, is objective to the animal. For the purpose of nutrition, the animal is provided with an apparatus consisting of a series of organs, whose function is to assimilate the food to the animal tissues. The organs of digestion and assimilation are subjective to the animal. Now, the organs of digestion (like the kinds of food) vary in the different kinds of animal, and their construction and physio logical powers point out the particular kind of food CONSTRUCTIVE POWER. 197 most proper for reception. We have, then, two terms, — the food, which is objective; and the digestive organs, which are subjective. But between these terms — and having a definite relation to both — lie the teeth, or some prehensible apparatus, used for the seizure and primary preparation of the food ; and the teeth, to be serviceable, must be suited both to the food and to the digestive apparatus. If the ox had teeth like the shark, the ox could not live ; and if the sheep had teeth like the porpoise, the sheep could not live, and vice versa. Granting, then, that Nature — if Nature were constantly engaged in manufacturing different forms— might produce an ox or a sheep, what is the probability that a certain system of teeth should find itself in company with a certain digestive apparatus, and in presence of a certain form of food ? All this is, to some extent, capable of calculation, according to the ordinary laws of probability. If we were to take only a hundred species of animals having teeth, and to consider the digestive apparatus of each, and the food suitable to that apparatus, and then to calculate the probability against the whole two or three thousand teeth which those animals possess, being arranged as Nature has arranged them, — we should find the probability my riads of myriads to one, that the teeth had not been allocated as they are without a constructive cause. We have, then, in nature objectively : — First, The end produced. Second, The adaptation of means to the end. The end produced gives us necessarily a power ; 198 THE A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT. and the adaptation of means to the end, gives us necessarily a power of a particular quality. The designation of this quality is of little import ance, provided we understand its import. It may be called skill, contrivance, design, even wisdom ; and either term is good, if we understand it in a proper manner. If we use the term design, we can then say, " There is certainly a power in Nature, and that power is a designing power." But further than this we cannot, as yet, say. Design, then, objectively, means merely the adap tation of means to an end. But what does it mean subjectively ; that is, in the cause or power ? Here we approach one of the master-difficulties, and one of the most disputed points of the whole argument. Design, if it be taken as intentional design, imme diately supposes a mind, or conscious power ; but we have not yet found a mind, nor originated its idea. We have nothing, as yet, projected on the field of contemplation, except the phenomena, the power, and the quality of design. All that we have learnt is compatible with a designing mind ; but the ques tion is : " Is what we have learnt, taken by itself alone, sufficient evidence of the existence of mind ? " That it is sufficient evidence to man, having no other evidence, cannot be thought, because we may fall back on the doctrine of inexplicables, and say, "We admit that there is design, but what the character of the designing power is, we cannot tell, whether it be animate or inanimate, conscious or unconscious." ARGUMENT FROM NATURE. 199 At this point we shall find a separation between the Christian advocate and the merely scientific man, who looks only to objective nature. The former will pursue his train of reasoning, and, by the aid of a few gentle assumptions, (which are, in reality, truths, but which, at this stage of the argument, are assump tions,) will establish the whole theory of a personally Divine Being, of unlimited power, wisdom, and good ness. The latter will stop short, and if obliged to give some reasonable explanation of the universe, will land in Pantheism, or in some general agency which floats half way between Pantheism and Materialism. At all events, there will be a separation, and each party will consider itself perfectly logical, and will charge the other party with disingenuous dealing. When an argument of this kind arrives at a par ticular point of bifurcation, and when each separate route is pursued by men of large intellect and emi nent attainment, we shall scarcely solve the difficulty by endeavouring to explore the termination of either course. We must return to the actual point of separation, and sit in judgment on the reasons that induce one party to take the left hand, and the other the right hand. We must endeavour to survey both courses at once, and to comprehend both in the same glance. Some reasons there must be, why men of, perhaps, equal scientific attainment, draw such differ ent conclusions regarding the amount of teaching conveyed in the spectacle of nature. We believe, then, that Christian writers seldom (perhaps never) succeed in so objectifying nature, 200 THE A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT. that they look on it as the whole source of their premises. This, however, is precisely the great re quisite, if we endeavour to found a theological argu ment on such design as may be apprehended by the understanding when it contemplates the external world. They introduce, illicitly and unconsciously, the idea of mind, — an idea which has no place in the field of objectivity. They start with the latent idea of God, and, in fact, use the arguments from nature not as the sources of the theological idea, but as the confirmatory proofs that the belief they already entertain is the correct one. To all who are in a similar position to themselves, their course of reason ing is at once valid and instructive ; but no sooner are they opposed by those who do not commence with the hidden assumption, than this large confir mation of belief sinks into an argument which does not convince the opponents. Instead of stating the reasons that convinced themselves, they appeal to what they consider a proof,— forgetting, in the earnest ness of their zeal, that their own convictions were not derived from any contemplation of nature. In their haste to argue, they forget to reflect ; they are dwelling in a lighted chamber, speaking to men in a dark cell, and telling them to look around and see. A wall of separation is between the two parties ; to the one, all things are visible, to the other all things are dark, but the want is the light burning in the chamber of the reason and shedding its rays abroad. This, indeed, makes the whole difference. The Chris tian advocate carries his light into nature, and illu- THE SCEPTIC. 201 minates it with Divinity; he carries Divinity into nature, but does not derive it from nature ; and, see ing, everywhere around, the bright reflection of the Divine Power and Wisdom, he cannot understand the perverse obstinacy of those who fail to behold what he considers the most palpable and convincing evidence. On the other hand, the Sceptic, (and there are many such in Germany and France, and some in Britain,) carrying no illumination with him into nature, sees only a dark, stupendous mystery. If candid, he admits a cause, but hesitates to assign positive qualities to that cause, — thinking it, perhaps , possible that matter may involve far higher and more subtle qualities than man has yet discovered. He has many specious objections which need not be enumerated, but which keep his mind floating in a wide sea of uncertainty, swaying backwards and forwards, amid doubts, and theories, and systems, which he scarcely pretends to believe, but only advances as probable or possible. He does not find God in nature. He sees an endless flowing — to him endless. It may be chaos emerging into form — and form again dissolving into chaos — again to endure form, and again dissolution. Tell him of goodness, and he replies that he sees the herb for the flock, — but he sees also the flock for the wolf, the lion, the tiger, and the leopard ; tell him of wisdom, and he replies that he sees animated nature enjoying all enjoyments by a wondrous mechanism, — but that he sees also in the same mechanism a wondrous capacity 202 THE A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT. for pain, a most elaborate construction for the pur pose of receiving and appreciating torture ; tell him of power, and he says matter also is powerful. To such a man nature is a great mysterious fact, whose cause remains hidden from all efforts of the inquiring spirit of man. The sceptic, however, forgets that objective nature (especially when we do not take into consideration the social world of man) is only the first and meanest portion of the field of knowledge. If man had nothing to study but mere material organization and arrangement, it is extremely questionable whether he would arrive at any satisfactory conclusion regarding the cause of nature. Indeed, it may be questioned whether any man or nation ever did arrive at a knowledge of God's existence by the purely objective study of material phenomena ; and, if so, why should we suppose an argument to be efficient in the future that has not been the really operating argument in the past ? There is some other source from which men do derive their knowledge of God, and, surely, it is better to advance the argument which does convince, than to strain beyond its proper limits and legitimate conclusions, one which does not con vince. We consider, then, that the study of external nature (minus the social world of man, which, to us, is objective in its external manifestation) furnishes us with a power which is at once potential and con structive (or formatively designing), but what that power is, or what are its other attributes, we cannot CONCLUSION FROM NATURE. 203 say, till we take under cognisance the phenomena of mental manifestation. With regard to the quantity of the cause of na ture, it is not necessary to say much at this stage. Quantity, as applied to power, is of two kinds, — ex tensive and comprehensive. In the first place, the cause must extend in space, as far as there are any appreciable phenomena ; and, in the second place, it must be sufficiently comprehensive to produce the most complex forms with which we are acquainted. It is thus as broad and as deep as creation; but man's experience being necessarily limited, we cannot from Nature assign absolute infinity to the cause of Nature, — not absolute infinity, but only non-finity — limitlessness. It is boundless, to us absolutely boundless; but whether positively infinite in both directions, no argument from nature can inform us. Conclusion from objective nature, considered objec tively, and not in a higher aspect than zoology. — The conclusion, then, from objective nature, considered exclusively in its objective form, and not taking into consideration man and his social relations, is, — that there is A POWER to which we can assign no limit, either in space, or in quantity of potence, or in constructive skill. But whether this Power be or be not endowed with moral attributes, we cannot affirm, till we have reflected on man, or until we have accepted the dictates of our moral intuitions. § 4. The insufficiency and unsatisfactory character of an argument drawn from external nature. In alleging that the argument from external na- 204 THE A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT. ture does not substantiate the moral existence of God to the human reason, I am well aware that the popular literature of Britain is against this conclu sion. Paley's watch is considered as irrefutable in England. His argument is ingenious, and handled in the most masterly manner. Paley, in fact, is the typical Englishman, — clear, practical, and utilitarian — all things for advantages, even virtue. But Paley's argument, as a demonstration, is utterly unsatisfac tory to all who have obtained even a glimpse into the higher philosophy. Far be it from us to depreciate the labours of that most able reasoner, yet we can not admit his argument to be sufficient, nor any similar argument which rests on the mechanical con struction of the material world. His argument must be combined with another, which infuses into it con siderations of a higher character. It is the mere external shell-work of an argument. Just as the external and visible creation is not God, — God be ing Spirit, — so neither is the argument from the external and visible creation fitted to satisfy the moral requirements of the human soul. It must have infused into it spiritual considerations, and a spiritual stream of thought, which have their origin altogether in another region, — which do not derive from the material creation, but which, when carried into the material creation, and into the general scheme of science, make the world of external phenomena the dwelling-place of the Invisible Mind. The special reason that induces us to characterise FATE. 205 the argument from external nature as insufficient, is as follows : — In external nature, we find similar phenomena taking place in similar circumstances; that is, we find laws which appear to be invariable ; that is, we find all things constructed on the plan of cause and effect ; that is, finally, we find all things constructed on a fatalistic plan. Whatever the cause of Nature may be, it is, in its material manifestation, fatalistic. There is in Nature the most unswerving execution of law. On no occasion does the force of gravity relax its impe rious decree, — whether it produce the most beautiful effects of beneficial arrangement, or whether it pro duce the most painful and grievous disasters. It is implacable. It may show us truth, beauty, and good ness, but it shows no mercy. Whether man will, or whether man will not ; whether he be the direst and most impious rebel against God, or whether he be the humblest penitent ; the laws of Nature are inexor able. There is no hope save in observance ; one error, one slip, one breach of obedience, and with the absolute certainty of absolute perfection, the laws of Nature proceed to execution. There is no remedy, no redemption, no available penitence. Man may see his error, retract, repent, bewail, but Nature knows not mercy. In exact proportion to the breach of her laws, without increase and without diminution, but in exact proportion, she executes judgment. Young and old, rich and poor, strong and weak, proud and humble, pious and impious, sceptic or 206 THE A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT. believer, the laws of Nature hold on with passive indifference and absolute impartiality. All is fa talism in the execution ; all is cause and effect ; similar recurrence in similar circumstances. All is Fate. Now, Fate, we humbly conceive, is a most insuffi cient and unsatisfactory result ; for let us even sup pose that the argument from Nature led us to a personal cause, it would still he fate, whether admini stered by a conscious mind, or by the blind forces of matter. It would make no difference to our results, because observance in either case would be the only means of escaping from evils, many of which are fallen into unconsciously and unknowingly. We should be equally bound in the iron fetters of inex orable laws, and effect would follow cause with the same unlimited certitude. Death and destruction would pursue their course as usual, and no hope would be held out to man, that in another and future existence there would be any relaxation of the mys tery of this fatalistic series of phenomena. If, then, all the changes that can be observed in the external world, take place according to determi nate laws, and if Nature holds on her course abso lutely indifferent to the mental feelings of man, we should be obliged to assign a cause of Nature of a similar character. We should be obliged to "say (if we determined the character of God from the cha racter of Nature), "God is inexorable to human prayers and human repentance ; God has given laws to the universe, some of which produce pleasure, and INDUCTION FROM THE SOCIAL WORLD. 207 some of which produce pain ; — but man in his igno rance knows not what course to choose, and the result of ignorance will be exactly the same as the result of the most wilful disobedience" Such is the conclusion we should arrive at, if we were to found a theology on the mere construction and operations of external nature. But such a theology would in nowise suit the intuitions of our moral consciousness ; for the tremendous discrepancy would at once arise, of a set of creatures endowed with all the moral emotions, with the germs of love, of reverence, of mercy, and of forgiveness, standing in the presence of a Creator to whom all such emo tions were utterly unknown, — who regarded not man, nor the feelings of man's soul, but who executed the outward and mechanical laws of the universe, not deigning to hold the meanest converse with his crea tures, nor to enlighten them with a knowledge of himself. What man wants, and what the human heart must seek, is not the Cause of causes, not the fatalistic Power which moves the mechanism of the universe, but the heavenly Father, the Cause and Creator of man's reasonable soul, the Fountain of man's moral being, the Father of Mercy, the In finite who bows in love to the finite. This cannot possibly be derived from the contemplation of phy sical nature. Hence the argument from physical nature must be regarded as altogether insufficient, unsatisfactory, and incomplete. By itself alone, it never could give us the assurance of a Moral Law giver and Merciful Father. 208 THE A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT. § 5. Induction from the Social World. If the induction from the merely physical world of matter be found insufficient to establish the fact of a Moral Governor, we shall find that the induc tion from the social world of men is also insufficient, although it may be made to advance the argument into a new region, and to superadd certain new qualitative predicates to the Cause of Nature. Let us, then, objectify the world of man, and in quire into the results of human conduct. As every dynamic phenomenon is, of course, sup posed to have a cause, and as there is evidently something which distinguishes human action from the action of matter, and from the action of instinctive animals, we call this something — mind; and we view mind as producing those phenomena which cannot be characterised as merely zoological. When, therefore, we project man into the field of objectivity, we speak of mental phenomena, not as implying psychological phenomena, or mental states, of which we ourselves are conscious, but as meaning, entirely and exclusively, such actions and modes of action as can be observed in the outward world of life. When we say that a man is industrious, we do not here mean that we can detect an industrious quality of the mind, save only as the term represents a mode of action. The outward action has a certain quality, and, of course, we infer a correlative quality in the cause, — and this quality we call industry. And so also with good and evil. We speak not of these as inherent qualities of the mind, which can be appreciated by direct observation, but as qualities THE OBJECTIVE ARGUMENTS. 209 which are first apprehended in the conduct, and then transferred to the cause of the conduct. This view (that we take into consideration mental qualities, exclusively as they are manifested in the outward conduct,) is absolutely necessary, when we profess to make an induction. If we were to speak of our own consciousness, we should have departed entirely from the very character of an inductive argu ment, and all our results would be worthless, because they would be illicit. We must first consider what is in the region of objectivity, and when we appre hend qualities there which refuse to be confounded with the qualities previously known, we assign a cause to those qualities ; but of the cause itself we know nothing, except through the manifestation. Hence, then, all our definitions must be made with an objective proposition ; that is, if a definition consist of a subject, as one member of the equation, and a genus and difference as the other, the sub ject, as cause, may be viewed as existing in the mind, — but the genus and difference must be entirely objective. Thus, when we define industry, we define it as, — ~\ ( Phenomenon, Cause, I produces 3 Genus— Action. Industry, j J Difference— Constancy, &c. This mode, or scheme of definition, applies univer sally to every mental quality which is inferred from the manifestation of outward conduct. And it is the very necessity of thus defining men tal qualities that destroys an objective argument 210 THE A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT. derived from the contemplation of man, and causes it to break down, and to produce nothing that will satisfy the human soul ; although, when used in an other manner, it may produce much to enlighten the understanding. Let us consider this point. In the physical world, as we have said, we find all things squared on the plan of cause and effect, — all things fatalistic. In the moral world, on the contrary, we do not find the same correlation, — we do not find a certain course of action producing invariably the same results. We find mysteries or events which cannot be traced to a cause (that is, a cause in the category of morals) ; we find irregularities, — general rules, which are rules only in the majority of cases ; we find exceptions, — instances which do not coincide with any discover able law ; we find a given course of conduct pro ducing with one man one result, and with another man an entirely different result. So great, indeed, is the diversity, that we can extract no code of action which shall always be sure to secure for us the end we have in view. There is something; in the moral world entirely different from what we find in the physical world, — something on which very able rea- soners have founded a powerful presumption in favour of a future existence, in which rewards and punish ments will be dealt out on a clear principle of intel ligible system, which is certainly not the case in the present world. Generally speaking, it may be so ; but the result is not invariable, — and invariability constituted the very essence of all that we could learn THE MORAL WORLD. 211 from merely physical nature, where all events ap pear to follow in determinate and recognisable se quences. Hence, we say, that in the moral world there is a different quality from what we find in the material world ; and, consequently, we are obliged to super add to the cause of Nature this new quality. We argue this point on the single element of virtue. Yirtue, defined objectively, is either that which causes us to attend to our own welfare, or, that which causes us to attend to the welfare of our fellow- creatures. Such are the elements of an objective definition of virtue, which, of course, may also be supposed to combine the whole or part of both defi nitions. The world of man, then, is constructed on the plan of pleasure and pain, of success and failure, of interest and detriment, — in a word, of good and evil ; good and evil being understood in an objective sense, good being pleasure, and evil being pain. Now, in the world, we observe a reciprocity be tween the conduct of man and the amount of pain he suffers, or causes others to suffer. The prudent man, in many cases, preserves himself from accident and harm, while the rash and reckless expose themselves to pain, suffering, and death. The industrious man often attains wealth, while the sluggard sinks into poverty. The temperate man escapes those diseases which are brought on by intemperance. The honest man often enjoys a well-earned reputation, while the rogue is exposed to shame. The benevolent man often succeeds in benefiting his neighbour, while the 212 THE A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT. churl, the grasping, and the hard-hearted, alleviate no pain, and confer no pleasure. In all this there is a reciprocity between the result and the conduct ; and the careful study of the se quences would give us a code of objective moral law, which would be, in the main, correct. But, further than this : Man universally accords the meed of his approbation to those acts which he esteems virtuous; and this he does, either by a genuine admiration, or by envy, which is approbation putrifying, and not yet corrupted into indifference. And to this, man adds (universally) the idea of punishment and reward. Man believes that the virtuous and good man ought to be more or less happy, and the vicious and wicked man more or less miserable. And hence, all nations, not satisfied with the execution of the laws of Nature, and not content to leave virtue and vice to that re ward which each would have received in the ordinary course of the world's events, have invented laws of their own, to supplement the laws of those natural sequences that would have resulted from the consti tution of the moral world. The point, then, is this. Let any definition of virtue or vice be adopted, and we shall find no scheme, which, in this world, presents the invaria bility of physical phenomena. The virtuous man does not escape terrestrial pain in proportion to his virtue, nor does the vicious man reap in this world what we consider the appropriate reward of his vice. Obedience to any possible law will not enable man to escape from pain. Pain reaches man through so THE SOCIAL WORLD. 213 many various channels, that no conduct of his own will obviate the occasion of pain. We say the occa sion of pain, for it yet remains to be considered, whether there are any means by which man may triumph over the occasion, and write himself content, even in the midst of his sufferings. Such a scheme would be the grandest discovery conceivable by the human imagination, — that in this battle, from which man cannot escape, he should find himself, not the vanquished, but the victor. Fatalism, Stoicism, and Christianity, have each attempted to solve this pro blem, — with what success, we may inquire hereafter. Every law that professes to be inductive, must be based on the constancy of facts and the regularity of sequences. When the recurrences are non-con stant (as they are in the world of men, in matters of births, diseases, deaths, &c), we are limited to a probability, which is greater or less according to the proportion of two classes of cases, one of which con sists of the cases where a certain event did occur, the other where the event did not occur. If, for instance, we leave a stone unsupported, it falls to the ground ; but it always does so ; the fact is con stant, and the law may be educed from the constant fact. If, on the contrary, we were to say that children are naturally born alive, we have not a constant fact, but only a probability, for many children are still-born. Suppose that out of one hundred births there were ten still-born children, the law would express itself in a fraction, less than unity. It would not, like the law of gravity, assume 214 THE A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT. the form of jg§, but only of T9„°5, where the proba bility that a child would be born alive would be 90 to 10, or 9 to 1. But the one exceptional case must have its cause and its explanation, quite as much as the nine cases, and it must contribute, so far, to determine the character of the causes that presided over the general phenomenon of human birth. Again, let us suppose 100 persons attacked by typhus, 70 of whom recover, and 30 die. Typhus, then, does not kill, certainly, as a stone falls to the ground, but only in the proportion of ^%, or 30 to 70. In all such cases we have probabilities, but with the full understanding that there are definite causes which produce the whole phenomena, — causes as de finite as gravity ; in fact, that the 70 cases that recovered, would be like stones that actually were supported and did not fall, because they were sup ported. It is an unquestionable fact, that man, as man, pronounces a moral judgment, and predicates re sponsibility and retribution. Let this fact be ex plained as it may, it still remains a fact, confirmed by all history, and substantiated by all that we can learn of living races. Now, let us consider that the sentiment of justice can in no wise be satisfied with probabilities, or with a majority of cases. Its judgment is absolute, and, to be satisfied at all, it must be perfectly satisfied. If we were to discover that 90 out of 100 virtuous men escaped those pains and penalties which befall the vicious, but that, from some cause or other, the re- THE SOCIAL WORLD. 215 maining 10 did not escape, but were visited with afflic tions, pains, tortures, and death itself, sometimes even in consequence of their piety and virtue, we could not infer, from these facts, the certainty of a moral Law giver, or the existence of a just and righteous God. We are driven, necessarily, to one of two conclu sions, — either that the laws of justice are imperfectly executed, or that the present life does not constitute the whole existence of man, but that there must re main some future existence, in which punishment and reward shall be meted out with a perfect regard to the conduct of each individual. We have no other alternative : either we must conclude that our moral judgment (which requires perfection to satisfy it, and which, necessarily, must have an originator of a char acter correlative to itself,) has been placed in circum stances altogether unfitting for its operation, or that the laws of justice are imperfectly executed, or that there is a future existence for man. That the laws of justice are imperfectly executed in this world, is a fact that has formed the theme of many moralists. The most virtuous men that the world has ever seen, have been subjected to perse cutions, stripes, imprisonment, and death. So promi nent, indeed, is this fact, that a great authority has said, " If in this life only, we" (that is, we, the just, the believers in a righteous God, and the fearers of his name), — " if in this life only we have hope, we are of all men most miserable." Miserable, — that is, not miserable in the emotions of the soul, as may be seen by the same writer, who declares himself content; 216 THE A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT. ¦ — but miserable, greatly to be compassioned for his outward circumstances, for those things that enter the statistics of induction, for those things that can be observed and noted as the effects from which we infer the cause of the world, for his stripes and im prisonments, stoned in this place, thrust out of that other place as a vagabond and vile person, treated in all ways as a malefactor, and finishing his career in all probability with martyrdom, — truly, a fact greatly against all inferences that there is a constant and regular administration of justice, and utterly destructive of the theory, that a man who does right will be certain to reap a fitting reward in this world. No such hope is held out to man. Yirtue, and much more, especially, the highest form of virtue — Christian virtue — is by no means the straight road to worldly prosperity or advantage. It may be so sometimes, and this very exception only complicates the calcu lation. Joseph is made governor of Egypt, and here virtue is duly rewarded ; our sense of right is satisfied when we behold the wronged and injured Hebrew justified from aspersion, and achieving those high dignities for which he was pre-eminently qualified. John the Baptist is sacrificed to a tumbling antic, and he who, less than all other men, seems to have indulged in worldly thoughts or selfish ambitions, is made to pay the penalty of his moral heroism by the surrender of his life. We need not these in stances, however. We have only to look abroad on the great page of the world, or to run through the records of history, or to contemplate the existence of THE SOCIAL WORLD. 217 tyrannical power, prevalent everywhere except in the Protestant countries of the earth. How is it, then, that tyrannical powers are continued in existence, — say, for instance, the Papacy or the Moslem power ? Can we inductively approach the Papacy, and after we have collected all the facts that illustrate the history of that extraordinary institution, can we say, virtue is rewarded in this world and vice is punished ? When we behold martyrs perishing amid flames and tortures, can we say that human conduct is accom panied by its appropriate destiny ? Is it the deliver ance of the human reason, that "this man read a Bible, and, consequently, was put in prison ;" " he refused to renounce the convictions of his conscience, and, con sequently, was first racked and then burnt"? Are these the proper correlatives of the conduct ? We know that these are facts, — that is, phenomena that must enter the statistics out of which we proceed to extract the character of the Cause that presides over the social world. But are they facts that will satisfy our moral judgment ? for if they are not, (and cer tainly they are not,) how can we possibly, from such facts, derive the existence of a Moral Governor who will satisfy our moral judgment ? No doubt, when we go into minute detail, and examine many of the consequences that attend on certain courses of conduct, we do discover the ele ments of a moral law; but when we look at the great fact of human existence, and at the every-day occur rences that take place on the surface of the globe, we see plainly that man — objectively — presents only 218 THE A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT. a great confusion. The moral world, as fact, (that is, in its outward manifestation,) is only a mass of disorder, from which no regular laws can be ex tracted, — if by law we understand that the same re sult shall accompany the same conduct. Similar conduct is not attended by similar results, if we con sider different countries or different ages. Those who have learnt their method from the physical sciences, will, however, object to this, and say, that similar conduct, in similar circumstances, will produce the same result. Granted. But when we have granted this, the difficulty will remain as it was before. For, first, we have to ascertain how it happens that generically different circumstances occur in different ages, or in different nations, — and this fact must have a major cause quite as much as any other fact; and, second, we find a peculiar quality in the moral law, which requires to be taken into consideration, — namely, its imperative character in all circumstances. If, for instance, I attempt to grow corn in one climate, I. must attend to the nature of that climate. If my corn requires to be sown in the spring, I must wait for the spring. If suppose in the month of April, I must wait till April comes round. But I cannot establish it as a rule, that I must sow my corn in the month of April. I may remove to another hemisphere, where April belongs to the autumn, and no longer to the spring, and I must consider the nature of my new country and new climate, before I proceed to sow my corn. THE MORAL WORLD. 219 Again, in all circumstances that do not involve a moral duty, I may legitimately take into considera tion my own personal safety or convenience ; I may, indeed, act according to circumstances. I may calcu late the probable effects of my action, and judge whether I shall, or shall not, perform the action. Where the moral law is not implicated, I may use my reason, or indulge my taste. But it is quite different where the moral law is implicated. We are not here affirming what is, or what is not, moral law ; let us suppose any moral conviction of the human conscience. Take, for instance, a very general duty, that of speaking the truth. If it be my duty to speak the truth in Britain, it is also my duty to speak the truth in Tuscany or Spain. I am not at liberty to lie, because I have changed my residence, or even because I have the most undoubted evidence, that if I do not lie, I shall suffer pains and penalties. I am no longer at liberty to act according to circumstances, but I must obey the moral dictate, come good, come evil. And, con sequently, if the moral dictate will not change with change of circumstances, and if my conduct ought to be the same, wherever or whenever I am, it is to me as if the change of circumstances had not taken place. It may be perfectly true, that in Britain I may speak the truth without being punished, and that in Tuscany I shall certainly be punished if I speak the truth ; and, so far forth, it may be said, that in similar circumstances the same result will take place, and that the same results do not take 220 THE A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT. place because the circumstances are different. All this might be true; and if I were at liberty to square my conduct according to the circumstances in which I find myself in any particular country, I might ap ply the inductive method, and make a fluctuating law of conduct, which should teach me, in one country to profess Protestantism, — in another, Popery, — in another, Moslemism, — in another, Idolatry, and so forth. But the very essence of a moral law is, that I am not at liberty to depart from the moral dictate, come of it what may. And hence, we see truth, in one age and country, rewarded with hon ourable estimation, and in another age and country, rewarded with pains and penalties, and even death ; and this being the case, we cannot from an induction of such facts, decide certainly that there is a moral Lawgiver, who apportions all things according to the conduct of the individual. The moral conscience of mankind cannot be satisfied with less than a perfect lawgiver ; and as a perfect lawgiver could only be inferred from constant and perfect facts, and as it is plainly evident and universally admitted that the facts are not constant, we cannot, from an induction of the social world, affirm certainly that we have evi dence of a perfect moral Ruler. While we cannot, however, admit that a mere in duction from the social world will furnish us with perfectly conclusive evidence that God exists as a righteous Lawgiver and Judge, we must remark those new qualities which this induction does certainly introduce into our philosophy of the universe. PLEASURE AND PAIN. 221 First, Of pleasure and pain. In the inorganic world we observe action and reaction. Matter is far from being an inert brute material. It is every where — so far as our experience extends — the resi dence of force. It will do something, of its own accord, if we may use the expression. And when it apparently does nothing, it is only because there are two or more forces at work, counterbalancing each other, and producing the equilibrium of negation. But though matter is indubitably a most active agent (by no means passive), we consider it as unconscious, as not sentient, and as only operating under general and fatalistic laws. In the vegetable world, we behold the first and faintest germ of individual sensitivity. A plant is an individual, and, so long as it lives, it has the power of rejecting, to some extent, the influence of the general forces which act imperatively on inorganic matter. When dead, it loses this power, and returns to its material elements. While living, it is active, in a much higher sense, and in many more ways, than inorganic matter. It shoots out its roots to find nourishment, it bends to the light, it opens its flowers in the morning and closes them at evening, it repairs its fractures and heals its wounds ; in summer it covers itself with foliage, and in winter it casts its leaves, rejects its juices, and prepares itself for the period of hybernation, — for its great annual sleep. Truly, a plant is a beautiful creation. Still, although some plants appear to be almost as sensitive as some of the lower animals, we do not yet 222 THE A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT. introduce the idea of conscious sensation. For this we must pass to the animal kingdom. Here we have not only the fact of sensitivity (or special re action), but of sensation, or conscious appreciation of an external agent. We have also, to a greater or less extent, the fact of locomotion. The plant does not travel, although it will shoot its roots many yards in search of food. The animal, on the contrary, travels for his food ; and so far we behold the growth of spontaneous liberty. The animal is more free than the plant, performs a larger number of functions, and exhibits life under a more complex and elabo rate form. The animal kingdom introduces the idea of pleasure and pain, and conscious choice, based on the fact of animal sensation. This pleasure and pain is the basis of such rude education as we can give to an animal. In the vege table kingdom we can cultivate and improve, but we cannot educate. We cannot teach a plant to do con sciously, — we cannot teach a plant habits ; although even in the vegetable kingdom there are the first faint symptoms of something approaching to the ten dency of habit. But we can instruct an animal by means of association, — we associate one set of actions with pain, and another set with pleasure, and, gra dually, the docile animals learn to avoid the one and to practise the other. Association, however, can scarcely be called reason. It is the lowest faculty of reason, which really involves three faculties, namelv, abstraction, causation, and association. Of abstrac tion the animals exhibit scarcely any trace ; they are PLEASURE AND PAIN. 223 unprogressive, and abstraction is the great source of all rational progression. Of causation, the more in telligent animals appear to have some endowment — but vague, obscure, and of the lowest form. Of association, however, they understand, if not the full import, at least a very considerable import. By this we teach the horse, the dog, the ox, the monkey, the parrot, and those other animals that learn a certain obedience to the wishes of mankind. Plants may be called instinctive, but then they are fixedly instinctive ; animals, on the contrary, have a certain expansive power for the reception of instruction, and they can be taught habits eminently useful to the human race. In this, again, animals exhibit a greater amount of liberty, or of freedom from abso lute fatalism. They show the germs of a free nature, which is brought to actual realization in man. Man consciously selects those circumstances in which he experiences less pain, — and this he does, not merely by association, but by using his faculties of abstraction and causality ; first for the analysis of the world, and then for the synthesis of the new conditions he desires. Man clothes his body to protect it from the inclemency of the weather, — he builds a house to shelter him from the sun, the wind, the rain, and the cold, — he makes a fire for his comfort in winter, and a shade for his comfort in summer, — he associates in towns, that he may have pleasant or profitable inter course with his fellows, — he constructs roads that he may travel with facility, harbours that his sea-borne property may be safe, — he passes to the uttermost 224 THE A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT. ends of the earth to scrutinise Nature, and to discover whether she contains elements suitable to his many requirements, — he engages in commerce with every tribe of his species, that he may surround himself with conveniences, ornaments, and luxuries. He toils on for ever, to vanquish his pain and poverty, — ever and ever straining after that perfect freedom in which he can have what he wants, and do what he desires. Pleasure and pain are the moving prin ciples of humanity ; and the mistake of the immoral man is not in pursuing pleasure, but in pursuing it in those wrong courses which are sure to bring an after retribution. The very declaration of the law was, " This do, and thou shalt live;" the very pro mise of the gospel, " Come unto me, all ye who are weary, and I will give you rest." Without the possi bility of pleasure and pain it is scarcely possible for us to conceive a moral universe. Second, Approbation and disapprobation. This phenomenon of the social world is as universal as the fact of pleasure and pain in the sensitive world. All men, all nations, and all ages, have exhibited the moral characteristic of approval or disapproval. In the savage, and the man of low passions and de graded habits, this tendency approaches very nearly to the animal instinct which is regulated by mere appetite; but as the intellect becomes more culti vated, the conscience more purified, and the conduct determined by higher principles, the moral judg ment departs farther and farther from a mere instinct, and assumes the form of a free deliverance, based on. APPROBATION. 225 an enlightened conception of the higher destinies of man. Courage and fortitude, dexterity and skill, will meet their meed of approbation in all countries, and among all people ; but among the less civilised, it will be animal courage ; among the more civilised, it will be moral courage. The skill which the savage admires, is the cunning dexterity of the hunter or warrior, which enables him to capture his game or to vanquish his enemy. The skill which the civilised man admires, is the skill of the painter, the poet, the architect, the musician, the logician who convinces, the rhetorician who persuades, the astronomer who reads aright the mechanism of the heavens, the engineer who constructs the complex machine, the naval commander who demolishes his enemy by a new system of tactic, the military commander who achieves unexpected success by intricate combina tions, which work together to a definite end. And more especially do we admire the skill which is brought to bear on the world of intellect and morals. The critic, who by his labour and acumen relieves us from perplexing difficulties, elicits not only our admiration, but our gratitude. The barrister, who, by patient and acute examination, succeeds in foiling villany, establishing innocence, or convicting crime, in circumstances in which it appeared almost impos sible to extract the truth, is rewarded with our ap probation for his skill. And so, also, with the statesman who conducts the affairs of a nation with dexterity, — who secures peace without sacrificing honour, — or who, if war be necessary, with a firm P 226 THE A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT. front, and able understanding, succeeds in inspiring confidence, averting panic, providing for the require ments of his nation, and, by his masterly administra tion, defeats, almost beforehand, every attempt on the integrity of his country. Such courage and such skill do civilised men admire. But still, there is a higher region of moral appro bation. We admire courage, even though it be ex hibited in a bad cause, and still even though it be turned to improper uses. When, however, we find that the course of action has been selected with the most conscientious desire to achieve good ; that self and selfish motives have been renounced ; that pain has been freely and consciously encountered for the benefit of others ; that, under provocation, there has been patience — under difficulty, perseverance — un der suffering, fortitude — under injury, a steady and unchanging effort to benefit the injurer ; and, last of all, that nothing has been withheld, even life itself, — that all that could be given has been freely given, and that all that could be done has been freely done, — our moral judgment is completely satisfied, and we approve from the very deepest recesses of our moral nature. In the Christian missionary and the Christian martyr, we have some of the noblest specimens of this self-abnegation, — of lives devoted to the welfare of others, and the honesty of purpose sealed with martyrdom. But in one instance alone do we arrive at that perfection which demands an infinite appro bation. In Christ alone do we reach the boundless- ABSOLUTE APPROBATION. 227 ness of love, which requires as its counterpart our infinite confidence, — our approval grown into legiti mate worship, and our worship flowing side by side with the most unlimited approval. In Christ we have the unlimited of all conceivable perfection, — not an abstraction of Deity apprehended by the logi cal reason, but the real God-man, who lived on earth, walked on earth, and suffered on earth, — at once Sufferer to the uttermost, and Saviour to the utter most. Christ must necessarily be divine, because no human intellect or imagination could have conceived his character, his actions, or his scheme of redemp tion ; and when we approve of his life, and of his death, we do so, not as superiors judging, nor as equals admiring, nor yet as commensurables mea suring a greater by ourselves the less, but as human and finite souls, who have found the infinite approv- able, — that virtue and that goodness beyond which we can conceive nothing, and to which we can con ceive no limit. Again, there is a system pervading, more or less, all people, and, under some phase or other, extending wherever man is found. This is Justice. Among savage nations, justice may manifest itself principally in the instinctive form of barbarous vengeance. Where there is no definite occupation of the land, no regular commerce, no system of probity, and, in fact, no nation, it is quite easy to perceive that the necessity for a system of distributive justice has not yet arisen ; and, consequently, we have no acknow ledged code of laws. Justice is thereby left for its 228 THE A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT. execution, not to the deliberative judgment, but to the spontaneous passion ; and it assumes, among un civilised people, (as, indeed, it would assume every where, were it left to passion,) the character of in stinctive vengeance for wrong received. But, at the same time, it is the crude, imperfect, undeveloped, or degenerated idea of justice, which, with the pro gress of the intellect, is capable of becoming regu lated, and subjected to scrutiny. With the growth of trade, agriculture, and intercommunication, there comes also the necessity of regulating the rights of persons and the rights of property ; and distributive justice will make its appearance, and assume social prominence, exactly as the occasion for its exercise is more and more felt by the community. In law, therefore, as in all other matters of human produc tion, there must be a development or progressive growth, — and so, also, in man's feeling of approbation or disapprobation, which has a far wider range, a greater intensity, and a more delicate sense of right, among civilised nations than among rude and bar barous people, whose law is vengeance, and whose execution is force. Justice, then, according to our conception of its requirements, meets with our approbation, and in justice meets with our disapprobation. We must not suppose, however, that the same rules of justice will prevail in all countries. On the contrary, every tribe and people will have its own understanding of justice, according to its moral, intellectual, and social condition; and its approbation or disapprobation SENSE OF JUSTICE. 229 will be awarded according to the progress it has made. The wandering Arab may see no injustice in robbing the caravan or the traveller. He pleads custom and prescriptive right. But let that Arab, from a wandering herdsman, be converted into a settled cultivator or honest trader, and he will find that his new condition requires the extension of his former idea of justice, for his own preservation. So long as he is the preyer, and there are others to be preyed upon, he accepts a few loose rules, which are onesided, to his own advantage. But place him in similar circumstances with the trader, and he will at once discover the necessity of a system of rules ap plicable to both parties. He will no longer maraud, because, by so doing, he is placing himself in danger of being marauded upon. So also with the Borderer, who formerly did not disapprove of reiving and steal ing. Now he is transformed into the industrious farmer ; and if we were to suspend all law whatever on the Border, and allow the present population to originate rules for themselves, we should find them prohibiting theft and violence, exactly in the same manner that the inhabitants of the Lothians or of Middlesex would prohibit theft and violence. It is not that they have acquired any new elementary idea of justice, but that they have felt the necessity of extending their rules into their new circumstances, and providing laws which shall afford them security and protection, — security and protection being now of far more value to them than a license to plunder. Hence, the particular rules of justice will fluctuate 230 THE A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT. according to the social condition of a people and their social occupations. And hence, also, as the intercommunication between the various nations of the earth goes on and increases, and as the necessity for regulating the communication becomes more and more deeply felt by those who are engaged in trade, commerce, and honest industry, we may confidently expect war and violence to diminish, and, perhaps, ultimately to disappear. And should war and vio lence disappear, it will be because man, placed in new circumstances, extends his disapprobation to all those things that interfere with the orderly, stable, and regular administration of the world's affairs. We have, then, in the region of sensitivity, and in the region of man's social existence, the idea of pleasure and pain, and the idea of approbation and disapprobation, which are the preparatives for an entirely new series of ideas, namely, our conceptions of punishment and reward . We must, therefore, consider, thirdly, Punish ment and reward. Justice must be divided into distributive and retributive, — the first being regulative, the second corrective. The first disposes and arranges all the elements of society in such a manner as to meet with our moral approbation ; the second assumes to correct any departure from the same, to inflict pain on the disturber of moral harmony, and by the exhibition of punishment to deter others from future transgression. Retributive justice has, therefore, three distinct JUSTICE. 231 ends, — to correct any departure from the conditions prescribed by distributive justice ; to inflict penalty on the voluntary agent causing the departure ; and to provide (so far as holding out motives for right conduct can provide) for the future preservation of society. Retributive justice is, therefore, corrective, penal, and preservative ; and retributive justice is univer sally, in some form or other, exhibited by man, vary ing, of course, from the summary and instinctive vengeance of the savage, to the calm, impartial, and deliberate proceeding of the civilised man in his elaborate courts of law. Retributive justice is, then, the counterpart of distributive justice ; the latter, in itself, is an unalloyed good ; the former is a neces sary evil, — evil in this sense, that it is much better when no retribution is required ; and necessary in this sense, that if there were no retribution, there would be greater evil. When, therefore, man contemplates any breach of distributive justice, he does, according to his greater or less advance in civilization, entertain a certain idea of punishment ; and when he contemplates any act of merit, (that is, any act which surpasses the require ments of mere justice,) he entertains the idea that the meritorious actor is worthy of reward. Punishment and reward pervade human society wherever human society is found. Variations there are in the mode of administering these, but the ra dical idea is everywhere present. Punishment may vary, from the slight expression of disapprobation, 232 THE A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT (which, from those of higher rank or superior station, is considered as punishment^) up to the loss of liberty, property, or life itself. And reward may vary from the simple approval, which is grateful to our feel ings, — from thanks or acknowledgments expressed in words, — up to titular honours, offices of trust or power, grants of money or lands, or even to royal or imperial dignity. But although we can look abroad upon society, and see everywhere the indications of a moral element of justice ; and although we see punishment and re ward of some kind or other following man wherever man is found, — there is irregularity, inconstancy, con tradiction, want of order, and want of system, univer sally present. There is no harmonious mechanism, working like the creations of nature towards a defi nite end and purpose, but only the broken and dis ordered fragments of some divine institute, which will not perish, and yet is all disordered and out of joint. Man's idea of justice, like his idea of religion, is of divine origin, and imperishable. But, like his idea of religion, it is corrupted through the influence of his fallen nature ; and we can no more inductively infer the character of the original Lawgiver, from the exhibition of punishment and reward in this world, than we can infer the character of the true God, from a comparison and induction of all the religions professed on the surface of the globe. It may be alleged, however, that this is man's doing. True, but man himself is a portion of nature; and if we were to draw our character of the Maker justice. 233 of man, from our study of man, we should be obliged to conclude that the Author of man was imperfect, and that the Great Cause, which made material nature with such harmonious wisdom, had failed in an attempt to produce a moral and intelligent crea ture. If the effect be so radically imperfect, as man is in his moral characteristics, we cannot possibly infer from such an effect a perfect cause. Such a conclusion would be entirely illegitimate ; and when we find that, notwithstanding the moral imperative impressed upon the conscience, there is a general prevalence of crime and injustice on the earth, we cannot, from such a spectacle, inductively infer the existence of a perfectly just and righteous originator of man. But it is not true that the injustice exhibited by man is the only difficulty. We find the elements of nature dealing out results which by no means coin cide with our intuitional feelings of approbation and disapprobation. We observe, for instance, a ship wreck taking place, in presence of certain individuals on the shore. A life-boat is at hand, and volunteers are required to man it. The brave step forward, and the pusillanimous stand still, in prudent, or in coward silence. The brave embark — reach the wreck — and by prodigies of exertion save the exhausted crew. But in this struggle with nature, one man is washed overboard and is drowned ; another, perhaps, in the performance of a most essential duty, has a limb broken ; another receives a blow on the head, and sinks into a hopeless idiot j the rest return on shore, 234 THE A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT, and are rewarded liberally. Now, how shall we read this event ? Surely Nature has not portioned out things aright. The manliest of them all is dead. Sober, prudent, resolute, and of great skill, that dead man was dux and leader in all enterprises. Nature has awarded him death. The next is a hard-working man, with a numerous family dependent on his exer tions. Nature awards him a broken limb, long sick ness, and final amputation. The next, young, active, free-hearted, full of merry jests and quaint sayings, a true seaman, — who is there, as it were, by accident, — run home after a long voyage to see his mother, to whom he has devoted all his available wealth,— Nature awards him idiocy. To those who would not go, Nature has awarded safety. Can we, then, from such facts, infer the intentional and wise distri bution of natural award ? On the contrary, we are forced to the conclusion, either that our own ideas of justice are not corroborated by the events of nature, or that there is some hidden and secret scheme underlying all the outward phenomena ; something to be developed and laid bare hereafter ; some clearing up of this terrestrial mystery ; some future explana tion of these inscrutable events ; some grand justifi cation of the perfect law of absolute and immutable right. Induction will not achieve for us that which is necessary for our satisfaction, namely, the coinci dence of our moral judgment with the outward event, and of the outward event with our moral judgment. There must be some explanation of the moral universe entirely different from all that can be learnt CONCLUSION OF ARGUMENT. 235 from induction. The elements are there, — the faded records of primeval innocence and primeval rectitude, — straggling rays of heavenly light flicker through the darkness, enough to tell us that holiness is not a dream, but only a lost remembrance of the past, and a possible reality of the future ; wrecked, ruined, and forlorn, man struggles on enveloped in the impene trable folds of mystery, — his soul agonising for the light of knowledge, — his conscience ever burning with the immortal fire which bespeaks divinity, yet passion, ignorance, and sin ever engaged in obscuring the celestial flame. It remains, then, for us to inquire whether any such explanation can be found ; whether any scheme has been presented, that will clear up this world of moral ruin and disaster ; whether any theory will solve the grand equation, whose terms are an intuition of perfection for the one member, and a world of moral confusion for the other, — an intellect and a conscience ever pointing to the ineffable good, and a conduct hopelessly at issue with all that the soul approves. In summing up, therefore, what we learn from an induction of the objective region capable of being apprehended by the intellect, we have, finally, — A POWER to which we can assign no limit, either in space, in quantity of potence, or in constructive skill. Also, we have the fact of pleasure and pain, of approbation and disapprobation, of justice and injustice, and of punishment and reward. But we have also the fact, that when we turn from 236 THE A POSTERIORI ARGUMENT. the region of physical nature, to the region of moral and social nature, the order and perfection of con stant result is lost, and that the moral world is a confused, disordered, and discordant region, which presents perpetual imperfection. Hence, then, we have this alternative. We must conclude either, — 1st. That the CAUSE of the moral world is imperfect in power, or in intention. In power, if we suppose the intention to have been the construction of a moral world, pure, innocent, and holy, and that the realization of such a world failed for want of power ; in intention, if we suppose the present imperfect moral world to have been exactly such as was designed. Or, 2d. We must conclude that the world was once fair and perfect, man inno cent, and rectitude of conduct answering to the perfection of moral dictate, — and that some event, some vast catastrophe, has occurred, whereby the primeval harmony has been disordered, and man, from his first estate of innocence, reduced to igno rance, depravity, and corruption. One of these alternatives we must accept. If the character of a cause can be inferred from its effects and if we accept the present world as that from which we are to infer a cause, then, undoubtedly, must we arrive at an imperfect cause. If, on the other hand, we admit the doctrine of a catastrophe, we have the possibility of a perfect cause; and, also, if we admit that man may possibly have fallen from a pure estate, we have at least the possibility of a hope that he may be restored. CONCLUSION. 237 Such, then, is our alternative, and it remains for us to inquire whether there is any authentic record of a primeval state of purity, in which the imperative of the conscience was not, as now, the condemning voice of an immortal Judge, but the well-spring of a spontaneous rectitude, which flowed harmoniously from the native innocence of primeval man. BOOK V. THE INTUITIONAL, OR COMPOSITE ARGUMENT. BOOK Y. THE INTUITIONAL, OR COMPOSITE ARGUMENT. CHAPTER I. HOW MAN ARRIVES AT A KNOWLEDGE OF THE DIVINE EXISTENCE. Sect. I. — Evolution of the Intuitional Argument. Before proceeding to the consideration of Revelation, the argument which actually does induce man to believe in the existence of God must be adduced. This is termed the Intuitional Argument, to dis tinguish it from the a priori and inductive arguments ; but it must be distinctly premised that this name is selected, not because it expresses the import of the method, but merely because it may be used as an initial name. Intuition enters into the argument, and so far the argument is intuitional. Intuition is the start ing-point — the primary origin of affirmation — the first, but only the first element of a process of argu- Q 242 THE INTUITIONAL, OR COMPOSITE ARGUMENT. mentation, which involves also, and as particularly, the a priori argument and the inductive argument. The present argument is, therefore, one of com bination, in which all the various methods are made to furnish a certain portion of a complex scheme ; and the ultimate conclusion is, in fact, not a con clusion from either method isolated and disjointed from the other methods, but a conclusion derived from the consideration of the whole. The weakness of the a priori argument is, that it cannot furnish us with a fact, — only with a mode of thought. The weakness of the inductive argument is, that it cannot approach infinity ; and also, as moral evil is undoubtedly existent in the world, the existence of that evil is an insuperable barrier to the certain conclusion that the Cause of the world is infinitely perfect and good. This assertion, however, must be cautiously limited to the mere method of induction. Not that we cannot arrive at the evidence of God's perfection, but that we cannot arrive at that evidence by mere induction, because we must, according to the very first laws of induction, assign to the Cause, the qualities we find in those effects from which we make our induction. In fact, an impartial induc tion of the moral and social world would be more likely to land us in the Manichsean admission of two distinct causes, the one good and the other evil, — and there we should end in an inscrutable mystery. Let us consider that there are five elementary sources from which man derives knowledge. These are, 1. Intuition ; 2. Metaphysic ; 3. SOURCES OF KNOWLEDGE. 243 Observation, physical or external ; 4. Observa tion, psychological or internal ; and, 5. Revela tion. If we read these in the above order, we have them ranged logically or synthetically ; if we reverse the order, we have them ranged (omitting Revela tion) chronologically or analytically. That is, intui tion is logically anterior to metaphysic, — metaphysic to observation ; but chronologically, observation is anterior to metaphysic, and metaphysic to intuition. 1. The first source gives us the knowledge of our own existence, and our indubitable belief in an external world. 2. From the metaphysical source we derive our knowledge of abstractions and abstract relations. 3. From the physical source we derive our know ledge of the external world extended in space. 4. From the psychological source we derive our knowledge of the special phenomena and operations of mind. These five sources are essentially distinct, — not capable of being reduced one into the other, and each furnishing a modicum of truth special to itself, which is not furnished by the other sources. The second source is the origin of the a priori argument, the third of the physical a posteriori argument, the fourth furnishes the psychological inductive argument, and the fifth is the origin of the scriptural argument. It is plainly evident, however, that metaphysic can only determine the necessary forms of hypothe tical relations, and never, by any possibility, can lead us to a fact, — that is, to any truth whatever 244 THE INTUITIONAL, OR COMPOSITE ARGUMENT. that involves a concrete and real existence. Even the mathematical sciences determine only the form of our own thoughts, with regard to quantities, spaces, and numbers, and by no means inform us whether there are any real entities that can be numbered, measured, or surveyed. Hence, an a priori argument of any kind, whether relating to theology or to any other subject whatever, can only establish the axiomatic principles on which we are constrained. to proceed, — it never can transcend or surpass the region of abstraction, — never can go further than to assert, that, if a certain hypothesis be true, then certain consequences follow, according to the laws of cognition. But the hypothesis itself is, as I have previously shown, extra-metaphysical ; and to convert this hypothesis into a fact — into a truth relating to some actual reality — we must ad dress ourselves to some other source, and derive our knowledge from some other region. If, for instance, we endeavour to begin with certain considerations relating to being (as all a priori arguments do, more or less, begin), it is evident that metaphysic fails to establish the very first fact, without which all its after conclusions or propositions are only empty ab stractions; this first fact being the fact that there is being, — a proposition which metaphysic must in variably assume, and cannot possibly prove. Now, this fact must have an origin, and this origin must be either in the realm of physics or psychology, — it must either be the external objective world, or it must be the inward world of thought, emotion, and ON METHOD. 245 mental experience. A fact must derive either from the Me or from the Not- me, but it cannot derive from mere abstraction. Metaphysic gives us the laws of thought and the necessities of thought, but it does not give us the substantive element of thought, unless we commence with facts derived from a non- metaphysical source, — -just as mathematic gives us the laws of calculation, but can never lead us to an astronomic fact, unless we begin with an astronomic fact from which another may be inferred. When once we have made certain observations regarding the planets, calculation may prove to us the existence of a new planet which has never yet been discovered, — that is, calculation may prove to us the necessity of admitting a local cause for certain perturbations ; but all the calculation in the world could never prove to us the first fact, namely, that there are planets. This must be obtained from observation. The metaphysical or a priori source, therefore, furnishes us only with a certain portion of our method of calculation. It furnishes the laws, but not the materials of the argumentation. Again, the inductive method, by itself alone, can never establish a theology, because it never can lead us to a mind. No inductive method, applied to the external world, can ever lead us to a mind. We are told that there is design in nature, and that design is an attribute of a conscious mind. So it may be, but that fact could never be learnt by induction ; and if we had confined ourselves strictly to induction, we never should have known that fact, and could not 246 THE INTUITIONAL, OR COMPOSITE ARGUMENT. have affirmed it. The idea of mind is extra-induc tive, because mind involves consciousness, and no objective experience, observation, or induction, could ever originate the idea of consciousness. If we were to predicate consciousness wherever we observe ope rative or constructive design, we should make either matter or force conscious, and by this method we should, as the ancients did, fill the universe with a mythology of gods and goddesses. Nay, induction, instead of being able to lead us to a mind, cannot even lead us to a force. Force is never predicated through any induction whatever, — force being the product of the axiom, " Wherever there is motion, there is force." The laws of motion are inductive ; that is, a thousand motions all differing in actual circumstance may be found capable of expression in one and the same general formula, and this is induc tion, — which, in fact, is nothing more than the classi fication of the motions. Whatever induction may be applied to, or wherever it may be employed, it is nothing more than classification, and classification can never transcend the objects classified. It may be true, that design implies mind, but this truth does not belong to induction, any more than if we had never seen an animal of any kind, the foot prints on the sand would have been inductive evi dence of animal life. If we had never seen an animal, and always had remained in ignorance of our own foot-prints, the track of a lion, a bear, or an otter, would have been no evidence of a living creature ; it would have been merely a mark in the sand, of a ON METHOD. 247 peculiar form ; it would have betokened nothing whatever connected with animal existence ; it would have been a mere fact, and nothing more. Yet, on these said foot-marks we could have performed a whole course of induction. We could have ascer tained that the roundish mark, with distinct inden tations, led invariably to and from the water, — that the great clumsy mark led frequently to trees, and sometimes disappeared at a hollow tree, — that the other mark led to and from a cave, &c. All this in duction could be performed without our having the slightest notion of the animals themselves, — the marks would be only marks, and by induction we might arrive at the laws of the marks. But let us now sup pose that we made our own track in the sand, and observed it. We should then, from analogy, con sider the former marks to have been made by some different kinds of men; and we should guess, very obscurely, and in great doubt, about their forms. But it is plainly evident that we did not get the idea of a living being from the marks, but from ourselves. Let us now suppose that we found a book of draw ings, with a full description of the lion, the bear, and the otter — with prints of their feet, and a de scription of their habits. We should at once recog nise the connection between the marks on the sand and the prints in the book ; and we should under stand why the otter-marks led to the water, the bear- marks to the tree, and the lion-marks to a den. Still, the origin of our idea of a living creature was with ourselves. So it is with every induction — 248 THE INTUITIONAL, OR COMPOSITE ARGUMENT. Paley's watch, or any other. If we do not carry to the watch the idea of mind, assuredly we shall not find it there ; but if we do carry with us the idea of mind, the watch is good evidence, both of the fact that the mind exists, and, to some considerable extent, of the character of the mind that presided over the construction. Let us, however, consider another case. Astro nomy is a science of duplicate origin. It is called an inductive science ; but this is a misnomer. In duction could only give us the laws of the apparent motions, and never could reach the Newtonian idea of a universal attraction or force. But, even passing over this circumstance, we have in astronomic science the mathematical element, and the observational element, each furnishing a certain portion of that which we understand by astronomy. The mathe matical element is a priori, the observational element is a posteriori. Let us, then, suppose that we were to ask, What kind of astronomy can be constructed with either element alone, as has been done with re gard to theology ? It is plain that the mathematical element contains only the general doctrine of num ber, quantity, space, and force, and can never, by any possibility, discourse of real planets. It may make hypotheses, and calculate what would take place if certain hypothetical planets, endowed with hypothetical properties, were placed in certain hypo thetical positions and relations ; but it has no possible means of introducing the real orbs, whose motions are to be analysed and explained. On the other hand, the observational method is THE THEOLOGICAL ARGUMENT. 249 equally impotent, if it reject the assistance of mathe matics. It would discourse of orbs, of their appear ances, of their apparent positions, apparent motions, and apparent phenomena (eclipses, &c), but never, without mathematics, could it determine the dis tances, dimensions, velocities, and real phenomena, which we assume to constitute the essence of astro nomic science. Now, when we speak of an a priori argument, or an a posteriori argument, and endeavour to pursue either method singly, are we not exactly in the same position as if we were to attempt the production of astronomic science by mathematics, to the exclu sion of observation, or by observation to the exclu sion of mathematical calculation ? To produce astronomy, both observation and calculation are imperatively necessary, — why, therefore, shall we continue to attempt in theology a process of proof, or a method, which would be utterly inapplicable in astronomy ? The a priori method cannot furnish us with a fact ; the a posteriori method cannot furnish us with a principle, being, as it is, merely a classification ; and this consideration proves the necessity of a composite argument, in which the various methods are made to work together, and to evolve a scheme which could not be elaborated from either method alone. We have, then, to state, — THE REQUIREMENTS OF A THEOLOGICAL ARGUMENT. 1. The first requisite for a theological argument is a fact. 250 THE INTUITIONAL, OR COMPOSITE ARGUMENT. 2. The second requisite is a principle. 3. The third requisite is a method of determination. Each of these three is derived from a different source, — from an elementary, original, and funda mental source of knowledge. The fact is derived from intuition. The principle is derived from meta physic. And the method of determination is derived from observation — external and physical, or internal and psychological. These, then, are woven together into a scheme, exactly in the same manner as we construct one of the mixed sciences, where intuition gives us the belief in the existence of matter, — metaphysic (or mathematic, which is only metaphysic applied to number, quantity, and space), the principles of cal culation, — and observation, the method of determi nation. The fact, then, is that of our own existence : I am a mind. The principle is, that mind, by logical division, must be either finite or non-finite; and if I am a finite mind, there must be an infinite mind. The method of determination is the induction of all that I can ascertain by observation, physical or psy chological, to determine the character of my own mind, and of the Infinite Mind, if I be finite. First, then, of the fact, — I am. This, of all imaginable or possible truths, is the first and most indubitable. Descartes was right when he said, " Cogito, ergo sum," although some have attempted to show, that his little phrase con- THE FIRST FACT. 251 tains a truism, — as if he had not seen this as well as they, and probably understood its import much better than they. What evidence have I that I am ? I think, therefore I am. Existence may be as real in coma or in dreamless sleep, but so long as I am unconscious, I may exist, it is true, but I cannot know that I exist. Consciousness, then, is the neces sary condition, not of my existence, but of my know ledge of my existence, and the great psychologist was right ; I think, therefore I am. What am I ? is a different question, and requires a method of determination. This is an after busi ness. That I am, is certain ; what I am, is a matter of long, painful, and arduous investigation. The first fact is an intuition, which never varies in certitude (always, of course, omitting considera tions of disease^) — it neither waxes nor wanes with the advance of knowledge. It is as potent a truth for the savage as for the sage ; for the unlearned, as for the scholar ; for the fool, as for the ablest and the wisest. All else may vary more or less ; the circle of our knowledge, our belief, our conviction, may expand or contract, may issue forth in search of the Infinite, or narrow downward to the brief limits of mere animal desire; but the centre of the circle remains as the immovable point, which is absolute. The radii may have a longer or a shorter course : the area of our consciousness may be that of the boor, whose hut and field are the boundaries of almost all his thoughts ; or it may be that of some majestic genius, to whom it has been given to weigh 252 THE INTUITIONAL, OR COMPOSITE ARGUMENT. the planets in the balance of his reason, or, higher still, to pierce with intelligent apprehension through the outer garment of the universe, and grasp the moral relations of the spiritual world : it may be that of Giles, who whistles at his plough ; or that of Newton, weighing in his giant intellect the orb of night ; or that of Chalmers, whose genius reflected the heavenly light that had fallen on his moral nature ; — but with one and all, the consciousness of self-existence is the very same fact, — no greater in the thoughtful philosopher, no less in the thoughtless ploughboy. It is, like the centre of the circle, abso lute; it is there, but it admits of no measurement and no dimension. The fact of our existence, then, is a primary in tuition. All the reasoning in the world leaves the fact exactly where it was before, — no acquisition of knowledge being capable of giving to this fact the smallest imaginable degree of expression. It is the foundation fact of our whole universe of thought ; without it there could be to us nothing. Assuming, then, that a knowledge of my own per sonality is given by intuition, and that it" is indubi table, we proceed to point out a radical difference in the method or scheme of the composite argument, from the method of either of the other arguments. The a priori and a posteriori arguments are linear. The first starts from principles, and pursues a logi cally linear course towards its conclusion. The latter starts from facts, and pursues an inductively or in ferentially linear course. We maintai n, then, that any A PROGRESSIVE ARGUMENT. 253 argument which pursues a merely linear course, is necessarily insufficient and incomplete. The composite argument is not linear ; it is alter native and constructive. This difference is of the most radical importance. Every writer has acknow ledged that the a priori argument can only proceed legitimately a very short way, beyond which it can go no further. So, also, with the inductive method; it is limited. Both methods must necessarily be limited, because they cannot (otherwise than illicitly) transcend the premises from which they originally set out, — and they set out with only one kind of premises, whereas, for a complete argument, we require several kinds of premises. The superiority of the composite argument is, that it is not limited ; that while it professes to adhere as strictly as the others to the legitimate use of each particular kind of premiss, yet it introduces at cer tain stages, and for particular purposes, every kind of premiss, intuitional, metaphysical, inductive, moral, or revealed ; and this it does on the principle of gradual expansion, which enables us to continue the argument to any extent, and not to stop short, merely because the method we have exhausted can carry us no farther. Hence, intuition goes only a little way, and we in troduce metaphysic; but intuition, combined with metaphysic, is soon exhausted, and we introduce in duction ; but these three combined are also ex hausted, and we introduce morals; but even these are unsatisfactory, and we introduce revelation. It 254 THE INTUITIONAL, OR COMPOSITE ARGUMENT. is one and the same argument throughout ; but it consists of different stages, and, like a real science (astronomy for instance), it takes periodic expan sions, and proceeds to any possible length that can legitimately be attained by the use of any materials that are fairly within our reach. Whatever is true in any department, is, therefore, worked into this argument for the purpose of elucidating some point or other, — all that is necessary being that we should employ our materials on the fairest principles of logic, and not distort them for uncandid purposes, or from too ardent a desire to obtain a conclusion which our premises would not legitimately warrant. But the composite argument has not merely the advantage of introducing every kind of premiss. I have said that it is not linear. It does not consist merely in the sequence of one argument after another, for in that case it would be linear. It is a true com position, — that is, the elements are combined, not merely placed in juxtaposition. Thus, when we find our metaphysical method exhausted, we do not aban don it and proceed to the inductive method. On the contrary, we introduce the facts of induction into the formulas which were previously void of ma terial, and we apply our a priori method to the truths that were procured by the a posteriori method. There is thus a continual alternation, just as there is in the real science of astronomy ; where we do not first exhaust our mathematics, and then proceed to observation, but where we continually alternate ob servation and calculation, and weave the two to- OUR OWN EXISTENCE. 255 gether into the same identical scheme. So it is in the construction of a building, or in any construction whatever. We must have the material and the method of procedure. Without the plan and method, the materials could only be classified, — there would be no construction. But without the materials, the plan would remain only a plan, and there would be no building, except in hypothetical existence. The material must be wrought into the plan. We do not first produce the plan, then abandon it, and turn to the consideration of the qualities of the materials. Not at all ; we preserve our plan, and keep it con stantly before us, — -taking care only to fill into each particular part such materials as possess suitable qualities, and can fulfil the purposes we require. Hence, all mixed science (which is, in fact, the only real science, for mathematics does not contain a fact, and the descriptive sciences contain only classifica tions, more or less elaborate) proceeds universally on the principle of alternation. Mathematical science is linear, and so is an a priori argument; but as mathematical science cannot prove any thing more than relations, so neither can the a priori method, of which mathematics is only one illustration or depart ment. We have, then, as our very first proposition — which is a proposition oi fact — the intuition of our own personal existence. I am is the indubitable of my ontological consciousness ; as / ought is the impera tive of my moral consciousness. We now approach one of the most remark- 256 THE INTUITIONAL, OR COMPOSITE ARGUMENT. able and one of the most interesting phenomena of cognition, namely, that the moment a fact is given to the human intellection, it is given under certain conditions — which conditions are not contained in the fact itself, but spring from the reason in its con templation of the fact. This formal deliverance of the reason is termed metaphysic, and metaphysic consists of those abstract or axiomatic schemes, into which we instantly locate the materials of our knowledge. The elucidation of this portion of philosophy was the object of the illus trious Kant, when he asked the important question, " How is a synthetic proposition a priori possible ? " No sooner do we appreciate any fact, or any real object of existence, than we find our knowledge assuming a form, which appears to be inherent in the human intellect as intellect. We cannot arbi trarily think, neither can we remain the mere reci pients of impressions. We must think through forms, or abstract categories, and those categories have de finite laws attached to them — the laws of the higher logic. The form of our thought is as much deter mined by the laws of our intellection, as the material of our thought by intuition or experience; and though there may be a vast power in man to use his intellect in any given direction, and for any specific purpose, yet he can only use it, as he uses his body, or the powers of nature, under primordial laws, which determine the mechanism of the process. Without this formal determination, man would not be rational, — he would be merely sensitive and percep- KANT'S A PRIORI PROPOSITION. 257 tional, — science would be impossible, and the mind, instead of being a person, with a spontaneous agency, would be only a reflecting mirror, standing in the presence of phenomena, and shadowing forth the series of changes which roll ceaselessly onward. Kant, however, in asking the question, " How is a synthetic proposition, a priori, possible ? " asked a question, the language of which was liable to be mis understood, and the meaning of which was liable to be misstated by the empirics. The term a priori, with Kant, meant "that which is logically antece dent ; " with the empirics it means, " that which is chronologically precedent." Now, in the latter sense there can be no a priori proposition of metaphysic, for the metaphysical axiom (and the axiom in its true sense was all that Kant meant) only originates chronologically when some fact of intuition or expe rience has been presented to the mind. But it is a priori in this sense, that it has no origin in any other proposition that logically contains it ; it is primary, spontaneous, and intuitional, — intuitional, not in the sense of being contained in the mind were there no fact present to the mind, but intuitional in the sense that, when a fact is presented to the mind, the axiom makes its appearance as the necessary element of belief which accompanies the fact, and co-ordinates it into abstract categories. So that, if we were to drop out the fact, after we have seen it arrange itself in a certain form, we should find an abstract proposi tion remaining, which proposition is metaphysical and not real, — that is, it is abstract and not concrete. R 258 THE INTUITIONAL, OR COMPOSITE ARGUMENT. And we should find, also, that the abstract proposition had carried us beyond the original fact, and had transcended the original fact, giving us to know things which the fact did not contain, and truths which are original and underivative. When, for in stance, we become conscious of a change, we become also indubitably and universally convinced that a change must have a cause ; and here we have a uni versal and abstract proposition annexed to a real fact. But this proposition has only a chronological origin in the fact. It has no logical origin, no logical ante cedent from which it could spring, or out of which it could be evolved. It is a primary intuition of direct knowledge, by aid of which all other subsequent knowledge must range itself in particular form, and assume systematic order. It is the presiding prin ciple of all dynamics, of all astronomy, of all mecha nics, chemistry, electricity, physiology, &c. It is the axiom of the whole world of change, and by it we work in every region in which we construct a science out of apparent phenomena. Assuming, then, the fact of personal existence to be indubitable, we next inquire into the conditions under which we necessarily think our existence. These conditions I have already announced in discussing the a priori argument, but I repeat them at length. Necessary division — All persons must be either self-existent or not self-existent. Philosophical necessity — All persons not self- existent, must derive their existence from a self- existent person. CAUSATION. 259 Logical necessity — If there be a person not self- existent, there must be a person self-existent. Fact — Jam a person not self-existent. Conclusion — Consequently, there is a self-existent person. Converse conclusion by negation — If there be not a self-existent person, then am I not. But this being impossible to the consciousness, the argument entails the absolute necessity of my admitting the existence of a self-existent person. In this argument, two propositions will arrest attention : First, The philosophical necessity; and, Second, The fact. We shall, therefore, consider the proposition, "A person not self-existent, must derive existence from a self-existent person." The ques tion, then, is, " Whether is this proposition necessary, or not necessary?" Let us, then, translate it into its more general form, and we shall find that it contains two propositions, and is, in fact, the concise expres sion of the axioms, "Every change must have a cause;" and, "Every change must have an adequate cause." Whatever we may say, we are compelled to think that every change must have a cause, and all dynamic science whatever is based on this axiom. We regard this proposition, therefore, as indubitable. We must also admit, that every change must have an adequate cause, and the only ques tion is, whether the cause of a mind must be itself a mind. It is plainly evident, that if we were to affirm, "All matter not self-existent, must derive existence 260 THE INTUITIONAL, OR COMPOSITE ARGUMENT. from self-existent matter" we should affirm a proposi tion that is erroneous. Why, then, do we make the affirmation with regard to mind, when it does not hold good with regard to matter ? For this reason : — A cause must be conceived of such a nature as to account for the effect. Now, all that is necessary in a cause is, that it should be potentially sufficient ; and the cause of matter need only comprehend the power of producing matter, and need not consist of any assignable material whatever. Here, then, we have the operation of that most useful doctrine of exten sion and comprehension, which has been elaborated by Sir W. Hamilton. A cause must be correlative with its effect both in extension and in comprehen sion ; and, therefore, when we assign a mind as the cause of mind, we do so because mind is the highest of all objects with which we are acquainted ; and, consequently, a dependent mind must have a cause, at the least, as high in comprehension as itself. Thus, we could not assign space as the cause of matter, because space does not comprehend potentially the qualities that matter comprehends. Neither could we assign inorganic matter as the cause of organ ism, — nor matter at all as the cause of mind. The cause of matter must contain, at the least, attributes sufficient to account for the qualities of matter, and the cause of mind must contain, at the least, attri butes sufficient to account for the qualities of mind. And, consequently, mind being the highest potence with which we are acquainted, it must have a cause, at the least, as great in comprehension as itself; THE MORAL ARGUMENT. 261 otherwise we should be assigning effects of a charac ter superior to the cause from which they sprung. Hence, the cause of a mind must be, at the least, a mind, — a conscious agent of some kind or other, — for we cannot conceive thought issuing out of a uni verse in which there was no thought, any more than we could conceive matter issuing out of a universe in which there was only blank space. There must be a potence sufficient to account for the product, and this, in the case of mind, can only be a conscious and intelligent power. The second proposition that requires attention is the fact, " I am a person not self-existent." How, then, do we know this fact ? It is plainly evident, that although a knowledge of our existence be given by direct intuition, a know ledge of our mode of existence cannot be derived from intuition, but must be derived from experience. Experience, therefore, comes into play, to assure us that we are limited and not infinite. At this point, therefore, we can link to our pre vious argument experience or observation, — first, to tell us what we are ourselves ; and, second, to tell us the character of that great Mind, from which we suppose our own to proceed. Sect. II. — Evolution of the Moral Argument. Here we have arrived at the most important part of a strictly natural theology, namely, at the grand bifurcation of knowledge, — at the division of the uni- 262 THE INTUITIONAL, OR COMPOSITE ARGUMENT. verse into the ontological or natural and the deonto- logical or moral. In the ontological division we in quire, What is ? — in the moral division, we inquire, What ought to be ? In the ontological division we are engaged with the Not-me, in the categories of quantity, time, space, and matter, — that is, with mathematical and physical science ; and with the Me, in the criticism of our own attributes, — that is, with psychological science, or the natural history of mind. In the moral division we are engaged with the Me in the category of duty, which is incommensurate with time and space, — that is, the methods of measurement or determination, which we employ in the outward region of the ex ternal w6rld, are inapplicable to what we term duty. Duty, if it exist at all, exists as an absolute, and aims at perfection. Our moral judgment may, it is true, be obscured and clouded, and we may mistake whether any particular act be or be not an act of duty, just as we may mistake whether any particular line be or be not a straight line ; but the conception of duty, like the conception of straightness, is abso lute and perfect, — it is either "Yea," or "Nay," with out gradations or summations of advantages, — it either is or it is not ; and as between existence and non-existence there is no gradation, but the mere ab solute Yes, or No, so in the matter of duty it is of no immediate importance whether duties be many or few, great or small, well-known or ill-known, the one single question is, " Is there a duty ?" for if there be, then is the universe a moral universe, and the RESPONSIBILITY. 263 whole theory of moral obligation is entailed. Just as if we were given a universe of space, and the question was as to the existence of matter, — a grain of sand, or a particle of dust, would entail the whole theory of material existence, quite as absolutely as the solar system, or a thousand solar systems. There would be the question absolute solved in a particular manner, — awaiting inquiry into quality, quantity, relation, and operation. The question, "Am I responsible?" admits of only one method of solution ; the question, " Is man responsible ? " admits of another. In the first case, when I ask myself, "Am I responsible ? " I am en gaged with a question of my own consciousness, and my consciousness affirms that the ought is a por tion of my constitution, — that my freedom has limits which are not merely the limits of impossibility, but limits which I consciously recognise as imperatively to be applied by myself, in the exercise of my spon taneous activity. If any man were to affirm that he had no such conception, it would be scarcely possible to convey to him its meaning ; nor are we too hastily to conclude, that there may not be such an indivi dual, seeing that we know not the amount of dete rioration which man may undergo. But that cannot affect us, if we have the consciousness of responsi bility. If we have the conception of duty, the question is settled so far as we are concerned. With the race, however, we may use another method. We appeal to history, and to the universal confession of mankind made through institutions, 264 THE INTUITIONAL, OR COMPOSITE ARGUMENT. laws, religions, and rules of action. These, although they cannot prove to me that I am responsible, are, at all events, confessions on the part of other men, that they considered themselves lying under the obligations of duty ; and so far I have the corrobo ration of the race, that the moral imperative existing in my own mind, is a universal imperative for the race of man, — for those whom I regard as my peers and equals, and who, so far as their judgment may be of value to me, confirm the deliverance of my intuitive consciousness, that I am responsible. Their acknowledgment of a moral law is not the origin of my belief in a moral law ; but it greatly removes those difficulties which I should encounter, if none were to acknowledge responsibility except myself. We may, then, diverge either into the region of morals, which does not implicate space, or into the region of matter, which does not implicate moral responsibility. But we are now in a position essen tially different from that which we occupied when we endeavoured to form an induction. In an induc tion of the external world, we endeavoured to extract the idea of God from the ever-changing phenomena ; but now, on the contrary, we begin with a self- existent mind, and carry the idea of this mind into the region of nature. The question then is, " How are we to construe this mind ? " for we have two regions, each of which will furnish a method of de termination. The difference between the external world of space, and the internal world of moral responsibility, has QUOTATION FROM KANT. 265 been drawn with consummate skill by Kant, in a passage of surpassing grandeur : — " Two things there are, which, the oftener and the more steadfastly we consider, fill the mind with an ever new, an ever rising admiration and reverence — the starry heaven above, the moral law within. Of neither am I compelled to seek out the existence, as shrouded in obscurity, or only to surmise the possi bility, as beyond the hemisphere of my knowledge. I contemplate both lying clear before me, and con nect both immediately with the consciousness of my being. The one departs from the place I occupy in the outer world of sense, — expands beyond the limits of imagination that connection of my being with worlds rising above worlds, and systems blending into systems, and protends it also to the illimitable times of their periodic movement — to its commence ment and continuance. The other departs from my invisible self, from my personality, and represents me in a world, truly infinite indeed, but whose in finity is to be fathomed only by the intellect, with which also my connection, unlike the fortuitous re lation I stand in to the world of sense, I am com pelled to recognise as necessary and universal. In the former, the first view of a countless multitude of worlds annihilates, as it were, my importance as an animal nature, which, after a brief and incompre hensible endowment with the powers of life, is com pelled to refund its constituent matter to the planet (itself an atom in the universe) on which it grew. The aspect of the other, on the contrary, elevates 266 THE INTUITIONAL, OR COMPOSITE ARGUMENT. my worth as an intelligence, even to infinitude, and this through my personality, in which the moral law reveals a faculty of life independent of my animal nature — nay, of the whole material world ; at least, if it be permitted to infer as much from the regula tion of my being, which a conformity with that law exacts, — proposing as it does my moral worth for the absolute end of my activity, conceding no com promise of its imperative to a necessitation of nature, and spurning in its infinity the limits and conditions of my present transitory life." We must, therefore, consider how the self-existent mind is to be construed. If we pass at once into the region of objectivity, of quantity, space, and matter, this Mind will become the Great Geometrician, the Great Mechanician, the Great Architect of the uni verse. Wherever constructive skill is detected in the object, we shall assign wisdom to the author; and wherever there is an adaptation of means and circum stances suitable to the requirements of the animated creatures tenanting the earth, we may, so far, assign goodness. But still, as I have said before, this ex ternal method of determination leads us inevitably to the conclusion, that the Master Mind of nature acts fatalistically, by definite and invariable laws, and that, farther than those laws can exhibit the charac ter of the Author of Nature, we cannot enter into the Immortal Presence, but must ever remain in the outer vestibule of creation. We could not know God in the sense of knowing the person to whom we are indebted for being, — we could only know the OUR MORAL INTUITIONS. 267 laws by which God carries on the operations of Nature, and we could have no knowledge whether God did or did not take an interest in our fate, far ther than the single fact, that if we obeyed certain laws, we should escape pains that would certainly be incurred if we disobeyed those laws. We should be ever on the outside of the temple of this vast uni verse, shut out from all communication with the inward sanctuary. We should be only strangers, beholding at a distance the divine arrangements, but never admitted into the presence of that God whom at a distance we ignorantly worshipped. It is quite otherwise, however, with our moral intuitions, which, if allowed to give forth their utter ance, will lead us into the presence of the Eternal, — darkly, vaguely, uncertainly, and obscurely, it is true — but yet, into the divine presence, in a sense far different from that which can be applied to any " seeing of God in his works." In the works we see not God, — we see only the manifestation of his eternal power and wisdom working fatalistically for given ends and purposes. But in the moral convic tions of the soul, God is no object to be sought for and found out, but a present God wherever and whenever we may be. In the works, we ourselves are products created or evolved by the same power that evolves the universe ; but, in the moral intuition, we are persons, — dependent, unknowing, fleeting, hoping, fearing, — but yet, persons standing in the presence of our Maker and Lawgiver, without the mediation of any universe or outward form that can 268 THE INTUITIONAL, OR COMPOSITE ARGUMENT. be construed by the understanding. Not that we are in presence, as if we could know God and com prehend his being, but that we are in presence, in the immortal duty of obedience ; in presence of the law of our voluntary action, that we may not think nor act in the smallest matter, save only under the subjection of the finite person to the Infinite Per son, — the finite Me has found its Infinite correlative. I am no fortuitous creation, — no accident of produc tion in the ever producing world, — no sensitive atom thrown up by Fate, and left to wander many weary hours till Fate arrive again and wind up the chronicle of my existence. I am not this. I am a person, a living intelligence and moral agent, made for the service of God, and made to dwell in his presence ; darkened and deluded as I am, this is my nature and my destiny, as designed in my creation ; God has made me not for the uses of his universe, but for Himself; my relation is direct, infinite, and absolute, — the relation of service and obedience from which, so long as I am, I cannot escape. Such is the deliverance of our moral nature, and the conclusion of a moral argument. The question, then, is, " Am I to construe my conceptions of God according to what I learn from the objective universe, or according to my moral intuition ?" It may be said that the two will coin cide. To this we reply, that we cannot know whether they will or will not coincide, until we have scrutinised the science of the objective universe, a long process, — very long, in fact. And, also, the IDEALISM. 269 presumption is, that they will not coincide, because one will introduce qualities which the other does not contain. The objective universe is fatalistic, and this is in direct antagonism to the very conception of a moral ruler, and a moral subject. Objectively I am bound in fate ; in my moral aspect I slip from the fetters of my outward captivity, and stand endowed with the freedom of responsibility. For two reasons, then, we must give the moral idea of God the precedence, and carry the moral idea into the natural world, and not the natural idea into the moral world. This, in fact, is the crucial point of all natural theology, and on the course taken at this period of the argument, depends the con clusion at which any system will arrive. If we go outwardly, we shall conclude God to be the Great Geometrician, the Great Mechanician, the Great Chemist, the Great Physiologist, the Great Political Economist, regulating all by fatalistic laws, and executing all purposes with irrevocable precision. If we go inwardly, we shall conclude God to be the Moral Lawgiver, reigning over a universe of conscious intelligences, and giving moral laws to intelligent agents. In the first place, then, and to allege the first rea son, why we are constrained to give supremacy to the moral intuition, we must turn for a moment to the often mooted question of Idealism. That I am, is certain. But is it also certain, that there is an external world 1 This may be certain, or, at least, certain enough 270 THE INTUITIONAL, OR COMPOSITE ARGUMENT. for all practical purposes; but, assuredly, it is not philosophically certain in the same sense, as that our own existence is certain. I say philosophically, be cause natural theology is only a branch or section of philosophy, and, therefore, every question must be put and answered, not merely in such a manner as to satisfy the ordinary requirements of the multitude, but in such a manner as to meet those philosophical objections which can be originated by subtle heads, ardently striving to discover some new mode in which the universe can be construed. The doctrine of Idealism — Absolute Idealism — means, that every apparent phenomenon (or reality, for it makes no difference which term we employ,) is a phenomenon of our own consciousness, intellec tion, or thought, — that thought is the all, that there is nothing but thought, and that all things are thoughts, and nothing more. Whether this doctrine be true or false, it is unquestionably a view which may most legitimately be taken for the purpose of hypothesis. It may, like a hypothesis in physics, be supposed true, and then brought to the touchstone ol fact. If it would stand uncontradicted by fact, — that is, if it would admit all the facts of our cognition, — then it would hold its ground not as true, but as being as good an explanation as any other, suppos ing that another theory had only equal presumptions in its favour. If it will not square with all the facts, it cannot be true; if it admit all, it may be true. I apprehend, then, that no man can be said to have had the slightest insight into philosophy, who IDEALISM. 271 has not succeeded in conceiving this scheme of ab solute Idealism, and of presenting it to his own mind, not merely as a logical proposition, but as a con ceived fact. As to the material world, it makes no difference — no possible difference — whether we con ceive it as a genuine reality, or only as a permanent phenomenon of thought common to all human in telligences. Supposing the variable phenomena to be permanent, and that no man should ever wake out of his dream, it could make no difference in any practical department of human life whether matter were real or ideal, for of its substance we know no thing. The sun may be an older object than any human thought, holding his place before man was, and possibly holding his place after this world shall have undergone some mighty transformation, and man has been forgotten ; or the sun may be only a permanent phenomenon of every man's thought, manifesting to the thinking point of intellection a seeming sun, regulated, however, by the intelligible laws of geometry, optics, and mechanics. It makes no conceivable difference. The Arab would still shelter himself under the shadow of the rock, — the navigator would still make his observation of the apparent altitude, — the flower would still welcome the luminary as he journeyed from another tropic, — the waving grain would ripen under his beneficent ray, — summer and winter, day and night, would al ternate as they do now. Let us, then, consider the operation of the ideal philosophy in regard to a moral law. The external 272 THE INTUITIONAL, OR COMPOSITE ARGUMENT. world may be conceived as a phantasm, without sup posing an alteration in man's constitution. It may be either real or ideal, and yet man may remain exactly the same. But not so with the moral law. The moral law of the conscience is part and parcel of man himself, and it cannot be obliterated without supposing a radical change in the very essence of the human consciousness. Grant that the material world is ideal, yet man remains unchanged, because the objective universe is apprehended by the under standing, at least in its finite manifestations. But the very nature of a moral law is, that it is not appre hended by the understanding, but implanted in the being. It cannot be cast off for a moment, even in thought, without supposing man to be no longer man. We have changed his nature by the very supposition, and converted him into a mere intelli gence. We have, in fact, destroyed his essence, — for the essence of a moral mind is the capacity of willing, in accordance to a moral reason ; and, if we obliterate this, we destroy what we mean by man, and leave only an intellectual being, distinguished essentially from man by the absence of the moral intuitions. To man, therefore, under any circumstances, the moral law of the conscience is the nearest, the most imminent, and the most certain of all that can be called knowledge, after the knowledge of our own existence. It is so, logically, though, perhaps, not so chronologically ; for the moment the spontaneous activity of mind is supposed to come into operation, THE MORAL LAW. 273 that very moment do we suppose the moral law to act also. All speculations as to how thoughts and feelings arise in the mind of a child (although of great use in the theory of education), are of no im portance to philosophy, because they refer only to the chronological sequence of mental occurrences. Many authors, however, writing of the origin of our notions, have confounded the chronological with the logical origin, and hence have landed themselves in a system of mere empiricism. These would tell us that sensation was the nearest phenomenon to the consciousness of existence, — in fact, that it was the origin of all our thoughts, and the fountain of all our knowledge. And so it is, chronologically, just as our material construction is the radical origin of our whole being, and just as our parents are the causes of our life. Such a philosophy, however, is too con temptible to require refutation ; it is no more to the purpose, than if a chemist were to inquire into the origin of water, and were told that it came out of the fountain. Quite true, but of no value to him — of some value, however, to those who wanted water, but did not know where to procure it. Hence, then, the moral law stands firm to man under any or all circumstances of philosophy. The material creation — the world, the sun, the moon, the stars, even space itself, and time, may be only phe nomena of conscious thought, — the material universe may be a phantasmagoria, — there may be in reality nothing but spirit; yet the moral law stands, and entails with it the consciousness of responsibility. 274 THE INTUITIONAL, OR COMPOSITE ARGUMENT. If I am a spirit finite in my nature, there must be a Spirit infinite in nature ; and if I am bound by the moral imperative of my intuition, that Infinite Spirit must be a moral being — the correlative of the moral law, and the object of my reverence. But again, let us not confine ourselves to the sup position, that matter may be only the spontaneous production of my intellectual activity. We see no reason in the world for supposing that matter has not a real existence, or for supposing that the multi tude are wrong when they believe that matter is a real substance. The ideal philosophy explains no thing that cannot be quite as well explained by the admission of the reality of matter. There is, how ever, good reason for stating the hypothesis, for examining it, for following it into its conclusions, and for giving it all due consideration, — especially for endeavouring to show that neither this hypothesis nor any other can shake the validity of the moral law, or deprive man of his moral nature. We may use it for a purpose as a hypothesis, and having done so (as an intellectual exercise), we lay it past among the theories that have been advanced by the various schools of philosophy. From absolute Materialism up to absolute Idealism, we may have many theories all worthy of examination, and all contributing to throw considerable light on the philosophy of man. All are, so far, explanations of distinct portions of our being. Materialism is a most true and most import ant doctrine within a certain limit. So is Mysticism, so is Idealism. Every doctrine, in fact, is a point of THEORETIC SYSTEMS. 275 view of man ; and the error is, in supposing that any one doctrine (which starts from homogeneous pre mises) can by any possibility give an explanation of the whole nature of man. The physician, in treating the mental complaint of melancholy, is a materialist, when he endeavours to relieve dejection by acting on the stomach, liver, or skin ; and we all concur that he ought to be so. The dynamist, on the contrary, treating of levers which are inflexible, yet have neither breadth nor thickness, and contain no mate rial, is an absolute idealist ; yet we all agree that he ought to be so. All systems, in some department or other, have their uses and their applications, because they are only systems framed for the elucidation of some one particular portion of man's nature. All, in so far as they are true, are good and useful theo ries ; but each is radically erroneous when advanced as the exclusive explanation which we are to accept by the rejection of every other. We accept each in its own department, — and in its own department alone. Idealism, then, is one of these systems, — perhaps the highest and most subtle; yet, what ever its conclusions, it does not affect the validity of the moral law, nor does it assail, in any reasonable manner, a genuine belief in the moral existence of God. Let each system be confined to its own legi timate province, and it will never be found to impugn the conclusions of theology. But there is a second consideration. We have asserted that the moral idea of God must take prece dence of the natural idea, and we have exhibited one 276 THE INTUITIONAL, OR COMPOSITE ARGUMENT. reason for the same, by supposing the possible truth of the ideal philosophy. Let us now turn to the second reason. In nature, or seen through nature, God is to some extent one of the objects of the universe. All history informs us that there is a powerful tendency in man to objectify the idea of God. Hence idolatries and mythologies. Also, in nature we are ever endea vouring to construe to the understanding, to com prehend, and, hence, we endeavour to comprehend God as an object. Now, this view is radically erroneous, and contrary to the teaching of the moral dictate. God is not an object of nature, and cannot be comprehended. It may, in fact, be said (liable to misconstruction, however) that God does not exist in the universe, but that the universe exists in God. It is said that space exists necessarily, and so it does in this sense, that it is the necessary condition of material existence, and that we cannot think objec tively that space should be removed. Space and time are the foundation thoughts of all objective existence or cognition. But the moral idea has nothing to do with space ; and though we cannot think space non-existent, we may, with the ideal philosophy, think it only as thought, — that is, we may suppose space to have no objective existence what ever, save only in the human cognition ; for this, in fact, is the ideal philosophy. According to this view, there would be no difficulty in supposing that the heavens might be rolled together as a scroll, and that an entirely new form of existence might be THE MORAL INTUITION. 277 given to man. Of course, we cannot conceive space obliterated, — that is, as at present constituted, we cannot conceive this; but if the ideal philosophy were true, or if we were to accept it as possible, we should come to this conclusion, that space was necessary to us in our present state, but that there might be some feasible doubts as to whether it had or had not an objective necessity, entirely indepen dent of all other being. But the moral intuition has no reference to any world or being that is objective to us in space. God is not objective in space, as matter is, because mind, either divine or human,, is not commensurable with space, nor has it any reference to extended substance. Mind is the substance of thought, consciousness, will, power, — and these are not measurable in space, nor have they any direct relation thereto. That which has relation to space, must either have dimension, or direct relation to that which has dimension, (as the centre of the circle,) but will has neither of these qualities, and, consequently, has no relation to space. And hence, even if space were no longer existent in our apprehension, the moral law might remain intact, and the moral theology would still be valid. Let us, then, consider this point, that God is not an object capable of being comprehended by the reason. We are inhabitants of this world, and this world seems to us great. Yet we know it limited — it is but a planet ; and though we cannot transcend it in fact, we can transcend it in thought, and imagine ourselves removed to a distance. Let us. 278 THE INTUITIONAL, OR COMPOSITE ARGUMENT. then conceive that we were endowed with the power of passing through space, and that we withdrew to the verge of our solar system. The earth would be an object, — filled with memories it is true, — but now only a small object, that occupied but a point in our mind's estimation. Let us conceive that we with draw still farther into some far distant region, where the whole solar system was almost lost to gaze, — no bigger than a toy circling in the illimitable expanse. The solar system would then be but a mean and trifling object, its boundaries would be measured in a corner of the eye, it would sink into a nothingless relation to us,— no greater now than was a grain of sand in our terrestrial abode. Let us suppose that we pass still farther into some region of remotest space, where the solar system is long since forgotten, and where the very utmost stars of our present faint detection had been passed far and far, and that we had reached the verge, if verge there be, of the whole material creation. Thousands upon thousands of systems are there before us, gradually sinking into one minute object, which we call the material uni verse. We are bidding farewell to all things visible, to light and star, — to all things palpable, knowable, or construable by sense or reason. Onward, then, we pass, plunge into the outer darkness, and bid good night to all creation. We are alone in the outer realms of space, no fellow-mortal there, all things have faded like the forgotten vision of our child hood's dream, — we are alone. Are we alone ? We have passed all things but GOD IS EVERYWHERE. 279 ourselves ; but are we alone ? We are there, and with us has come that inward conscience that be speaks our own dependence, our finity, our respon sibility. In passing all things, have we also passed by God, and seen the Almighty fade into an object, like the whole of his stupendous handiwork ? Not at all. In all the plenitude of Divine Majesty, God is there. No greater and no less in the lost regions of unutterable darkness, than in the ardent bright ness of the sun, or the prolific teeming of the ever bearing world. God is there above us, beneath us, around us, — God is there in the ineffable fulness of divinity, curtailed in no attribute, shortened in no power, shorn of no glory, — the Infinite Mind dwell ing in the plenitude of omnipotence, and only need ing to will, that the whole realm around might be lit up with a myriad of glorious systems, or peopled with the hosts of heaven. God is in no sense an object, and never can be com prehended by the reason. He waxes not nor wanes, — changes not; in him there is no variableness, nor shadow of transforming. He is the All- Perfect, above and beyond all human reason, — the Infinite Author of all that is, or moves, or has a being. Hence, then, we say from the two preceding con siderations, that we must carry our moral idea of God into the natural world, and not the natural idea into the moral world. We must construe the natural world on the plan of our moral intuitions ; for only by this course can we arrive at a conclusion that will satisfy our moral nature. 280 THE INTUITIONAL, OR COMPOSITE ARGUMENT. We have now to ask, " What are the requirements of our moral nature ?" Our moral nature must have an author, and according to the requirements of our moral nature, so must necessarily be (to us) the character of that author. In the first place, the very existence of moral obli gation confirms and corroborates the conclusion at which we had arrived from intuition and metaphysic, namely, that the cause of our mental existence is an intelligence. When we admit the existence of law in the natural world, we, in fact, admit no more than a scheme of constantly recurring fact, and our own ability ration ally to construe the same. Such law does not carry with it the certain and indubitable evidence of an in telligent lawgiver, because we only approach the law from the outside, — and the law itself is an inference. It is quite otherwise, however, with the moral law, which we approach, not from the outside, but from the inside. In the former case, we know the facts or concrete examples, and from these we infer the general expression or law ; but in the latter case, we know the law, and have to investigate its particular application. It is quite possible that the Lawgiver of external nature might have remained an inscrut able cause, — that we might never have been able to decide certainly what the character of that cause was ; we might, in fact, have doubted, and, perhaps, have remained in uncertainty to the end, — oscillating between an inclination to believe in a personal cause, and a half-acknowledged doubt that Fate (that is, an A MORAL LAWGIVER. 281 absolutely inscrutable power) was the origin of all things. We say, then, that it is quite otherwise with the moral law. This of necessity supposes a personal, intelligent, and moral Lawgiver, in the fullest sense in which we can imagine personality. Either there is no moral law whatever, no duty, no crime, or there is necessarily a moral Person, with whom the moral law originates, of whose will it is the expression, and to whom the finite creature must necessarily be responsible. And this, perhaps, is the meaning of the Apostle Paul, when he says, " For when the Gentiles, which have not the law, do by nature the things contained in the law, these, having not the law, are a law unto themselves : which show the work of the law written in their hearts, their conscience also bearing witness, and their thoughts the mean while accusing or else excusing one another." Hence, then, the first requirement of man's moral nature is the existence of a personal God. What, in mere intellect, was a progenitor, — a mind that must have preceded the existence of human mind, — a shadowy outline, indicating with certainty some thing, but that something all unknown, hidden, and mysterious, — becomes in morals a moral and personal DEITY, whose existence is substantiated by the most imminent of all possible evidence, namely, by the very intuitions of that portion of our nature from which we cannot escape under any circum stances of time or place. The moral argument, that God exists, thus ap- 282 THE INTUITIONAL, OR COMPOSITE ARGUMENT. pears to outweigh all other arguments, and to be the genuine origin of that common belief in a God, which, under some form or other, is present through out the globe. It is the argument that does con vince men ; for no nation has ever professed a reli gion based on an inference from nature. It is not the external power extended in space that men ever profess to worship; it is a moral person, and this even where the conception has been greatly degraded. The Moslem, all fatalist as he is sometimes called, has still a moral deity, who will (he supposes) dis pense punishments and rewards ; and the very hope of reward incites the Moslem warrior to combat dauntlessly in the field, that he may win the sensual paradise of his sensual hopes. His deity is still a moral deity, in this sense, that he will regard the actions of men in this life, and portion out some future destiny, according to a scheme of present conduct — reward to the good, and punishment to the evil. And this very same idea of reward and punishment pervades all religions, more or less, how ever imperfect, degraded, or degenerated may be the conception of the nature of the punishment or re ward. In fact, wherever there is a religion at all, there is a moral idea at the bottom of it. It is not a natural, or merely intellectual idea, and never was derived from external nature, — it is a moral idea, springing essentially from the very centre of man's spiritual being, — yet, like all else, even like man him self, capable of being degraded down into some vile and corrupted image, which is the last faint symbol THE DIVINE PERFECTION. 283 of man's relation to the Almighty. That man's con ception of God may degenerate, is no evidence against a theology, it is only evidence that man himself may degenerate, and that in his fall he drags with him all the elements of his spiritual being, and squares his conceptions to suit his nature. Could we, in fact, imagine the sensual savage entertaining the idea of an infinitely holy God ? Not at all. Either that theology would tend to elevate the fallen man, or the fallen man would presently degrade the spiritual idea. Hence, all false religion is distinct evidence of two of the greatest truths of the Christian theology, — namely, the moral existence of God, and the fallen nature of man. That religion may be corrupted, is only evidence that man may be corrupted. The second requirement of man's moral nature is the moral perfection of the Divine Being. Nothing less than perfection will satisfy the moral nature of man ; nor is the corrupt form of actual religion any evidence against this proposition, because we are speaking, not of what man in his fallen condition requires, but of what the moral law in its nature requires — and it is the very nature of a moral law to require perfection. For what, in fact, is the basis of a moral law which supposes obedience to a person ? It is the perfection of that person. Any thing short of per fection would change the very ground of obedience. If the person to whom obedience is owed were not perfect, then the obedience would not be moral obe dience, it would only be prudential obedience ; and hence, we find universally, that wherever man bus 284 THE INTUITIONAL, OR COMPOSITE ARGUMENT. departed from the conception of infinite holiness, there the moral idea has given way to the prudential idea, and God has been propitiated, — served, not be cause it was right to serve, but because pains and penalties would be visited by an implacable God on those who did not serve. Any thing short of perfection destroys the very nature of morals. If, for instance, God were not infinitely and perfectly just, we could not owe him moral obedience ; if God were not infinitely and perfectly good, we could not owe him perfect love ; if God were not perfectly wise, we should not owe him perfect confidence ; if God were not infinitely powerful, we should not owe him infinite trust. There is, in fact, no possibility of conceiving a moral law, unless we conceive the infinite perfection of the person who is the object of obedience. The smallest possibility of error on the part of God would cast the whole universe loose from its moral obliga tion, and would substituteyear for duty. God claims obedience, from his own infinite perfections ; an obedience which man owes, not because he will be punished, not because he will be rewarded, but be cause God is the all in all of the moral universe, and that it is right that the finite mortal should give perfect obedience to the infinitely holy Creator. We cannot escape from this conclusion — either that there is no moral law whatever, or that there is a God infinitely and perfectly just and holy. Hence, then, we see that although the natural •^>rld throws little light on the moral attributes of PERFECT OBLIGATION. 285 God, inasmuch as it does not reach high enough, yet the moral world throws great light on the natural attributes of God. This point is of great importance. We cannot, for instance, owe to God perfect trust and confidence, if God be not infinitely powerful ; because nothing less than infinite power can afford us perfect security, and nothing less than perfect security is worthy of perfect trust. Again, if God were not infinitely powerful, there might be another more powerful than he, or as powerful as he, and we should not be bound to obey by perfect moral obligation. Nothing but perfection will save the moral law of man's obligation to God, and this per fection must extend in every direction in which we can have thought or being. When, for instance, we turn from the moral world to the natural world, and contemplate space with its orbs and boundless region of suns and stars, we say, " God made every one of them, God rules them, God is their master." But how can we say this, with no other evidence than the moral law ? Because, if God be not their master, then are we not bound to trust God. One of those orbs might come from some far region in space, and crush not us only, but the universal frame-work of the world, and obliterate mankind from being; and if this could take place without the permission of God, then are we not morally bound to trust God, for God might be willing, but not able to protect us. Hence, the moment we admit a moral law, — and a moral law we must admit, because it is implanted in our being, — that very moment do we also acknowledge 286 THE INTUITIONAL, OR COMPOSITE ARGUMENT. and proclaim, that God must be the Creator and ruler of the whole natural world, however vast it may be, or however far it may extend. This consideration removes at once, and in toto, all difficulties connected with the origin of the exter nal world, its mechanism, and its fatalistic series of events. The external world, instead of being the universe, sinks into the mere outward framework which God has prepared for his sensitive and moral creatures. The moral universe becomes the essen tial of existence, while the material sinks into the accidental ; not that it thereby sinks into insignifi cance, for it is God's handiwork, but that it assumes the second place only, and becomes subservient to the purposes of a higher world than itself. The third requirement of our moral nature, is moral unity, — there is but one God. Here it is necessary to draw again the distinction between the natural universe and the moral universe ; for men have sometimes attempted, and sometimes still attempt, to reason of things above their com prehension, thereby entangling themselves in here sies, error, or profanations. We know that the Trinity, with its mysterious, but all-important and most vital doctrine, has furnished occasion for many vain disputations, and, probably, for much that had better remained unwritten or unsaid. We know that men have attempted to apply their reason to the doctrine of the Trinity, and to tell us in plain words that three cannot be one, and that one cannot be three, and so forth. THE DIVINE UNITY. 287 This whole method is radically erroneous, and erro neous in this sense — not that the conclusions are either true or false, for of that we know nothing, and pretend to know nothing, but that the whole method is ab initio illicit, illegitimate, and inapplicable. With the clearest conviction, we may affirm that the na tural reason is not applicable to the moral and spiri tual world ; and we may affirm, also, that many vain and profane reasonings have been made, because men attempted to apply their logical reason to things that are incommensurable with the natural world, and that cannot be construed by reason.* Neither do we intend to advance into the region of theology to prove this proposition. It is quite unnecessary to drag the question into the presence of the highest mysteries of the faith. We can * On the other hand, all that belongs to the region of objec tivity, — all that is cognisable by the natural faculties, is subject to the natural reason. We find this principle universally recog nised in Scripture, and with a consistency of logical division that could never have been there had Scripture not been inspired. Our Saviour says, " I and my Father are one," — a spiritual truth, given on divine authority, and not subject to rational compre hension as to mode. But our Saviour tells Thomas to verify, by his senses and his understanding, the reality of the print of the nails and the wounded side. The Eoman doctrine of a trans muted wafer is utterly without a shadow of foundation ; it is a grand mistake, sinning as it does against one of the highest prin ciples of philosophy, and against the very criterion to which God has deigned to subject himself. The very brazen serpent was Nehushtan. From the beginning of Scripture to the end of it, there is not a single miracle that affords the slightest countenance in its character to the doctrine of transubstantiation. 288 THE INTUITIONAL, OR COMPOSITE ARGUMENT. decide the question without such dangerous experi ments. We can decide it by reference to human mind. Let us, then, consider that natural reason has definite provinces, and expresses itself in definite sciences. These are, the mathematical and mixed sciences, the physical, the physiological, and the psychological sciences. All this is the region of natural reason, and here we operate by methods. In astronomy, for instance, we operate with the mathematical sciences, as methods, and our conclu sions are valid and are confirmed by experience. But neither the mathematical nor the physical sciences are applicable to mind and spirit. True, a mind is con ceived as a unit, and, so far, arithmetic may be said to apply to mind. But let us try to establish our mind in space, and we fail instantly. We cannot link our mind with the external universe, because we cannot assign to it extension. It is not an object in the realm of objective cognition; we cannot measure it, nor even locate it, for it is only our body that we locate. Mind, in fact, is incommensurable with space. Two portions of matter cannot occupy the same space, but with mind it is entirely different ; a thousand minds might, for any thing that we can know, occupy the same point, — all that is necessary being distinct consciousness and individuality. The moment we speak of body, or frame, or appear ance, or any thing that indicates extension, we have left the region of spirit, and entered the outward region of objectivity. Hence, when the schoolmen THE UNITY OF GOD. 289 asked how many angels could stand on the point of a needle, the answer was, of course, duplex. If the angel had an extended frame, then that frame follows the laws of space ; but if the question were how many minds could tenant the minutest point that imagination could conceive, then we answer myriads of myriads, because mind to us is utterly incommensurable with extension. But so it is also with substance, by which we mean, that noumenon that underlies appreciable quality. In speaking of persons, we carry with us too often the idea of sub stance, as if mind had a substance, and as if two persons must be substantially distinct. Now, if we attach to substance the objective idea, — that the sub stance could be cognisable through its qualities, and that two substances could not occupy the same space, — we have departed altogether from the region of mind or spirit, and materialised our conception. Mind is the substance of thought, will, and power, and these in themselves (though they may act in space) have no cognisable qualities or dimensions by which we can link them with the objective world. We cannot objectify thought in space, — locate it, measure it, or appreciate it. It is incommensurable with space, and has, in fact, no commensurable relation to the outward world. Now, the very same principles apply to the unity of God. If we endeavour to make God an object, and to assign in any way whatever a substance which could be objectively cognisable, or even imaginable, we have altogether departed from the region of mind 290 THE INTUITIONAL, OR COMPOSITE ARGUMENT. and spirit, and introduced the natural method where the natural method is utterly vicious and illegitimate. Hence, all questions as to how the doctrine of the Trinity can or cannot be reconciled with our notions of arithmetic, are utterly vain, — being, in fact, per fectly and totally useless and absurd ; that is, that the method of construing is as totally inapplicable as if we were asked to extract the square root of our own mental existence. Let those who wish for a natural explanation of the Christian mysteries, first give a natural explanation of their own mental existence, and then we may listen to their logic, but not till then.* In speaking, therefore, of the unity of God, we cannot attempt to talk of substances, or of persons, or to measure the Divine Being in any way whatever as an object, construable by logic, or comprehensible by the understanding. When we speak of unity, we speak neither of arithmetical unity nor of substantial iden tity : we speak of moral unity; God is morally one.f * Human existence is supposed to be understood only because it is familiar, but it is no more comprehensible than the deepest mystery of religion. f The Athanasian Creed, when it discourses of Divine substance, is wise beyond what is written ; for if we have no conception of the substance of t he human soul, and do not even find it neces sary to suppose a substance (that is, a substance objective in space), how can we dare to pronounce a positive judgment on the Divine substance 1 We may piously wish to obviate objections, or to explain difficulties ; but surely we are not at liberty to in trude the beggarly elements of our human logic into the region of the most sacred mysteries. THE UNITY OF GOD. 291 By unity, therefore, we mean nothing whatever that can be construed into an assertion regarding the substance of the Divine Being, — nothing whatever that can be understood as approaching in any way the doctrine of the Trinity. That doctrine we re ceive, on the faith of God, as one of those things which, being plainly declared, we are to receive and accept as children. With any attempt to explain that doctrine, or to reason regarding it, we have no concern. We renounce, and take care to renounce ex plicitly, the smallest attempt to speculate in a region which we are surely convinced is above and beyond our reason. Whether the mode of the Divine existence — Father, Son, and Holy Spirit — be or be not com prehensible by any created intelligence, even the highest of the angelic host, we know not, and cannot know. But we know, certainly, that the mode of the Divine existence is not comprehensible by our limited faculties, and we believe as certainly that God has made known all that it is necessary for man to know in his present earthly probation ; and thus, though we are bound to read, mark, and learn, we are not bound to reason, as if we were to excogitate some truths which God had left in the background ; and which, if they were to be discovered by reasoning (as mathe matical or physical truth may be discovered), would be only open to the man of large ability and logical cultivation — whereas, there is not the slightest ground for supposing that the greatest natural intellect can see farther than the humblest believer into the spiritual mysteries of God. 292 THE INTUITIONAL, OR COMPOSITE ARGUMENT. Nor do we even approach in this place the scrip tural doctrine that God is One. That is not the meaning. We mean that the moral nature of man points to One Supreme Will. If there be a moral law in the universe, there is necessarily one Su preme Will — one Infinite Majesty, to whom all persons and to whom all things are subject. This, in fact, is moral unity, and it in no wise militates against the Christian doctrine of the Trinity. When we say, then, that God is one, we mean that there is One Will, absolutely supreme, — that there cannot be two or more antagonistic wills of equal authority — that there are not two infinite per sons antagonistic — that there is not an immortal good and an immortal evil — that the Manichsean doctrine is false, and that God is universal Lord over all. But moral unity goes much farther than this. It links the whole universe of intelligent and moral being into one, — it leaves no discrete moral agents, — it allows no separate mind to be independent, — it grants no emancipation from the universal binding together of all created natures that are endowed with the moral element, — it makes man the brother of the angel, and makes the archangel brother to the little child. Moral unity has an absolute centre, and an infinite circumference. All moral beings meet in God. God is the universal centre and the universal circumference, — universal centre, inasmuch as he is present wherever there is a moral intelligence ; and universal circumference, inasmuch as he bounds all THE MORAL THEOLOGY. 293 moral beings, and folds them within the immortal bands of obligation to himself. This moral theology is, in fact, the theology, — for without a moral theology, we might as well be with out a theology at all. For what would it advance us to discover in external nature a fatalistic power, that wrought its way regardless of man, — scorning alike his hopes and his fears, — bringing him into ex istence for a small season, and trampling him out again as unworthy of regard, — indifferent to every pang that rends the human heart, and to every aspi ration which the human spirit sends forth after the Immortal Good ? Where, in fact, in the outward universe is that heaven, after which the hopes of man are ever going forth ? Is it in the sun ? or in the stars ? Look at them well and ponder them, and say, if that be all the evidence, whether the moral heaven of purity and bliss be not a delusive fable. Look at the outward world and ask yourself, Where is the habitation of God ? Where is the city with its twelve gates, and the river of life, and the nightless ever, and the light of God's countenance, and the clearing up of all things, and the heart that has found its home at last, and the eye that has forgotten its scalding agonies ? Where is He who died on Cal vary ; who, in the outward form of man, told us of these things, and promised us this heaven, — for, true or false, it is, at all events, historical, that he pro mised all this ? Has the Man of Sorrows also been trodden out by immortal destiny, and is he no where 1 Yet where is he 1 Look round on all the 294 THE INTUITIONAL, or composite argument. stars, and tell us if you think he is in any one of them, or if they hold out the slightest hope that you will see that Man of Sorrows clothed in the in effable glory, and reaping the reward of the immor tal love of the redeemed. If we look only outwardly and dwell on the visible creation, are not all these things mere fables ? If we were to travel on for ever, and to search through all the universe, should we find God and heaven, and see our departed friends ? It may be so ; but what evidence does this outward world afford that it will be so? None. The moral world, on the other hand, assures us that God is everywhere, and that in a moment — in the twinkling of an eye — all that we now outwardly perceive might be blotted from our appre hension, and that a new creation might be instantly before us, — that we might be transferred, as it were, from this outward world of sense into a world of spirit, — that, in fact, there may be now around us (but unknown) the bright spirits of heaven, — that they might at once become visible, and that we might hold converse with them. That such a supposition is not contrary to the teaching of Scripture, is plainly evident from certain indications contained in the sacred writings. We need not say that there is not a visible heaven, situ ated in some magnificent orb, where angelic beings would be apparent to the natural vision, as exercised by man in his present mode of existence. Nor need we say that our own sun, or some still more majestic sphere, does not contain the visible habitation of TWO WORLDS. 295 angels. We need not say this, because we do not know. But we say that we have no outward evi dence from the objective and external world that it is so. Our moral nature, on the contrary, assures us that God is everywhere present, and that, under all circumstances of time and place, he might make to us any manifestations whatever, — that though we cannot at present, from the form of our constitution, see more than the outward world located in space, yet that we might have our eyes opened to an alto gether different world, which really exists, yet which we cannot see, because we are under a different dis pensation from the inhabitants of that world. We say that there are indications in the sacred Scriptures sufficient to prove that this supposition is not at all contrary to the teaching of revelation. When, for instance, Elisha prayed that the eyes of the young man might be opened, that young man saw, and be hold the mountain was full of horses and chariots of fire round about Elisha. Now, are we to suppose that those horses and chariots existed only as visions in the imagination of the young man ? Are we not rather to suppose that they had quite as real an existence as the mountain itself, except only that, belonging to a world different from our natural world, they were not appreciable by ordinary sense, until miraculously assisted for the time by an exercise of the Divine power ? Again, did those horses and chariots come, by the ordinary transit of passage through space, from any part of our cognisable universe. We have no evi- 296 THE INTUITIONAL, OR COMPOSITE ARGUMENT. dence that such was the case. And that very same occurrence that gave rise to the opening of the eyes of the young man, so that he might see the other world, furnishes the example of what is termed the blinding of the Syrians, — meaning thereby, we pre sume, not such blinding as consists of loss of sight, but such as consists of their not seeing the natural world in such a manner as to recognise the objects according to the common laws of our present consti tution. Again, in that sublime spectacle called the trans figuration, do we suppose that Moses and Elias were not as really there as Peter, James, and John? And that the manifestation of Christ was not, in fact, the real exhibition of the Son of God, whom, in other times, for the great purpose of the incarna tion, men saw divested of his glory? Are not these things only indications of another world, which has as real an existence as the outward world of space and matter, but which, at present, is hid from our eyes, and invisible, except under miraculous assist ance from on high ? Hence, then, this moral theology leads us, not to an abstract Deity existing always hid, and never manifesting himself except under fatalistic laws, but to a real and personal God, present at all times, and in all places, and who may at any moment open the eyes of man to another world, which most assuredly exists, but which is not cognisable by our present faculties. That the moral theology is incomparably more rant's CONCLUSION. 297 valid and more precise in its teaching, than any inference from external nature ever can be, is a truth distinctly recognised and plainly stated by one of the most profound thinkers that the world has ever seen, namely, Immanuel Kant. We greatly rejoice, therefore, that we can adduce his clear decision as to the view he took, finding it perfectly coincident with the scheme we have endeavoured to evolve. In a case of this nature, Kant is no mean authority, for cer tainly he was endowed with a peculiar comprehen sion of intellect, which carried him far above the mere naturalists. Aristotle was a natural-ist and a method-ist; Bacon, also, was a great method-ist, — but in the true comprehension of the problem of man's philosophy, Kant must be regarded as surpassing both of these incomparably ; not that Aristotle can be surpassed in his own department, for both he and Bacon must be looked on as prodigies, but that Kant, disregarding the mere acquisition of natural truth which passes through the senses to the under standing, and thence to the reason, fixed his mind especially on the capacity of man for the evolution of a true philosophy. It matters little whether the mere conclusions he expressed in words be, or be not, strictly correct. His province was to open up such a comprehensive view of man's position, that no mere subtleties of logic could ever afterwards be held to stand in the way of a genuine belief in God. Kant, indeed, is far too little studied, and though his argu ment requires much elucidation, and his conclusion no small amendment, yet he exhibits so clearly the 298 THE INTUITIONAL, OR COMPOSITE ARGUMENT. utter hopelessness of scepticism, and so completely devastates the cobwebs and sophistries of all argu ments and objections springing from the natural rea son, that we cannot but attach great value to the deliberate deliverance of so impartial and so gifted a man. The mere naturalist, or the mathematical logician, will recoil from Kant, and vainly imagine that he can detect faults and flaws in his exposition. Granted; but the beauty of Kant's method is, that mere logic cannot touch it, — that he has lifted us into a region, at all events, of possibility, where the mere method of computation (of working from the known to the unknown) is powerless; a region which the mere calculator cannot see, and, therefore, cannot comprehend, because signs, symbols, and methods, are no longer valid. In fact, of all philosophical works, the " Critik of Pure Reason " most approaches the conception of a spiritual world above the world of sense. Kant, it is true, left that world unpeopled, and told us that the speculative reason could teach us nothing certainly, but he quite as confidently assures us, that the existence of the moral law is the perfectly secure basis of a natural theology. Kant, then, expresses himself as follows : — ¦" Now, this moral theology has a peculiar advantage over the speculative, that it leads infallibly to the conception of a single, all most perfect, and reasonable first Being, whereto speculative theology never, from objective grounds, directs us, and much less could be able to convince us of the same. For we find neither in transcendental nor in natural theology, however far CONCLUSION FROM REASON. 299 therein reason may lead us, any sufficient ground for admitting a single being only, whom we presuppose (to account) for all natural causes, and upon whom we had, at the same time, sufficient reason for making all these, in all respects, dependent. On the contrary, if we look from the point of view of moral unity, as a necessary law of the world (or universe), the cause which alone can give to this the adequate effect, — and, consequently, as to ourselves, obligatory force, — it must then be a single supreme WILL that comprehends all these laws within itself. For how could we find, under different wills, perfect unity of ends? This will must be omnipotent, so that all nature and its relation to morals in this world may be subjected to it, — omniscient, so that it may cognise the internal of sentiments and their moral worth, — omnipresent, so that it may be ready imme diately for all the necessities which the highest optimism demands, — eternal, so that at no time this harmony of nature and liberty be wanting." Such is the conclusion of the greatest philosopher that the modern world has produced, — that "the Great First Cause is, necessarily, from the direct teaching of our moral nature, an Infinite and Most Perfect Intelligence, to whom all beings and all things are subject " (beings, morally subject ; and things, fatalistically or passively subject), — " a single Supreme Will, that is omnipotent, omniscient, omni present, and ETERNAL." Conclusion. — We have now, therefore, to an nounce our conclusion from the moral world, — that 300 THE INTUITIONAL, OR COMPOSITE ARGUMENT. is, from the moral nature which we know ourselves undoubtedly to possess, and from which we cannot divest ourselves : — First. We concluded from an induction of the external and objective world, that there must exist A POWER to which we can assign no limits, either in space, in potence, or in constructive skill. Also, we had the fact of pleasure and pain, of approbation and disapprobation, of justice and in justice, and of punishment and reward in their human exhibition. Second. We had also the fact, that when we turn from the region of physical nature to the region of moral and social nature, the order and perfection of constant result is lost, and that the social world is a confused, disordered, and discordant region, which presents perpetual imperfection. Third. We had, therefore, the alternative conclusion, either, — 1. That the CAUSE of the moral world is imper fect in power or in intention ; or, 2. That the world was once fair and perfect, man innocent, and rectitude of conduct answering to the perfection of moral dictate; and that some event, some vast catastrophe has occurred, whereby the CONCLUSION FROM MORAL WORLD. 30 1 primeval harmony has been disordered, and man, from his first estate of innocence, reduced to ignor ance, depravity, and corruption. Fourth. The conclusion from the moral world decides which alternative we must elect. For, — 1. From the consideration of our moral nature we conclude, certainly, that there is an Intelligent Great First Cause. 2. That this Mind or Person is all-perfect, omni present, OMNISCIENT, OMNIPOTENT, ETERNAL, perfectly good, perfectly just, and perfectly holy. 3. That this Holy Being is morally one, and has no comparable antagonist. That all nature, and all moral beings, are his subjects, and that he is in fact the Supreme Lord and Governor of all things — the Divine Majesty, God over all. Fifth. That hence, as we conclude that God is perfect, we must necessarily elect the second member of our alternative, — That the world was once fair and perfect, man innocent, and rectitude of conduct answering to the perfection of moral dictate; and that some vast catastrophe has occurred, whereby the primeval harmony has been disordered, and man, from his first estate of innocence, reduced to ignorance, de pravity, and corruption. BOOK Y. THE INTUITIONAL, OR COMPOSITE ARGUMENT. CHAPTER II. APPLICATION OF THE MORAL ARGUMENT TO THE EXTERNAL WORLD. In applying the moral argument to the external world, the first grand admission that we are com pelled to make, and on which the whole course of argumentation depends — on which, in fact, the whole philosophy of man, and the cognisable universe depends — is, that there are two worlds, the one invisible, and the other visible. This is the radical fact on which all moral law, all natural theology, and all revealed religion is primarily based. Either matter and space are the All, or there is an invisible Person, to whom man has relations — as certain, though perhaps not so apparent, as those which he holds to the outward world of sense and experience. Hence, when we apply the moral conception of God to our reading of the external world, we reverse APPLICATION OF ARGUMENT. 303 entirely the ordinary process of reasoning known by the name of induction. From the external universe we can infer only a fatalistic power, that acts accord ing to fixed laws of absolute determination. The minutest action of the material universe is determined a priori, — all is purely mechanical, all is regulated, ordained, and executed with the most perfect pre cision, according to the qualities of the objects, the universal forces that act on them, and the circum stances in which they are placed. All, in fact, is fatalistic, and subject to fatalistic laws. We do not, therefore, base our theology on an induction from the fatalistic universe ; but, on the contrary, carry the idea of an Infinite Moral Person into the fatal istic universe, and behold in the operations of Nature, not that which is to furnish evidence of God's exist ence, but that which is to furnish an illustration of the Divine power and wisdom. The external world is not, therefore, a region from which we are to draw a dark and uncertain inference, but a region which is itself to be lit up by the moral conception of a perfect God, and to be viewed as flowing from the same Divine hand that implanted in our nature the intuition of moral responsibility. Man, then, is a denizen of both worlds, and has direct relations to both. Inasmuch as he is an in habitant of the external world, he is guided by his logical intellect, by his animal desires, by his appe tites and passions, by his tastes, impulses, and social affections. He can criticise and analyse the material framework of his astronomic and terrestrial home, and hence he elaborates the material sciences. He 304 THE INTUITIONAL, OR COMPOSITE ARGUMENT. can calculate and compute the results of his own actions, and hence he elaborates political economy and social science. He can speculate with his reason as to the higher causes that operate in the objective world, and hence he elaborates a philosophy more or less correct. The whole of his life may be con cisely summed up in two short schemes, — first, desire, leading to action; or, second, criticism and knowledge, leading to action. These are the two modes in which he acts in the world of his external relations. In the moral world, however, it is different. The very theory of a moral world forbids the operation of either of these schemes. Neither can desire de termine action, nor can criticism and knowledge be employed in the same manner as in the external world, where we act according to our own judgment, and regulate our actions according to a conscious perception or expectation of certain specified results. In the moral world, on the contrary, the motive is obedience, — obedience to a law whether we can or cannot understand the reason of the law, or whether we can or cannot trace the results of the action. If ever, then, the moral law should come into anta gonism with our desires, or should point in an oppo site direction to what we suppose to be knowledge, there must arise a question as to which motive must take precedence of the other ; in fact, as to which world shall have the supremacy, — which world claims the allegiance of man most imperatively, — which world is the essential world, and which the accidental. We do not, therefore, derive from Nature the idea FAITH. 305 of a perfect moral Ruler, but we carry into nature the idea of an infinite and all-perfect Being. Now, let us consider the vast difference that this view makes to our reading of the objective universe. In the first place, if we were to consider the material world as furnishing the criterion as to what God is, we should certainly arrive either at Pantheism, or at some dark, inscrutable Fate, ruling all things from some unknowable region, utterly beyond the farthest reach of human discovery. We should be in a per plexed mystery, without a clue to guide us in the unravelling of our nature, or the anticipation of our destiny. We should never know any thing worthy of being known ; and, though we might acquire all science, it would only be the knowledge of the out ward shell-work of creation, — so that, having known all science, we should be as ignorant as before, and should, in fact, have achieved, not the measurement of the universe, but only the measurement of our own ignorance, and of our own incapacity for such higher knowledge as could instruct us regarding the causes and primordial energies that called the world into being. But when, on the other hand, we carry the moral idea of an all-perfect God into the realm of objective nature, we call forth the exercise of that vital quality which, more or less, enters into all religions, and which is the cardinal requisite of Christianity — namely, Faith. It may, at first sight, appear out of place to intro duce faith into a. system of natural theology; yet it may be shown that faith is really and truly one of 306 THE INTUITIONAL, OR COMPOSITE ARGUMENT. the most necessary principles of such natural theo logy as does not confine itself merely to barren spe culation, but admits also (as all genuine philosophy ought to admit) the ethical element which proposes for its end the direction of the human activity. We say, then, that the moment we admit the existence of two worlds, and the supremacy of the moral, in visible, and spiritual, over the natural and visible world, that moment do we logically require the element oi faith, because on no other supposition can we reconcile any real or possible antagonisms that may appear to exist between the moral world and the natural world. Here, then, is our position. Outwardly we be hold the objective universe of space and matter — the astronomic region, which we conceive to be non- limited. In this region we work with our logical reason, and we subject all things to the scrutiny of our intellect. Here the natural reason is supreme, and (except in the infinitudes, which are above our in telligible conception) all things are true or false, just as the reason is led to decide after sufficient investigation. In this objective world, all things, so far as human experience has extended, are regulated by laws; that is, that with similar materials, similar phenomena will manifest themselves in similar cir cumstances. There are no accidents, no departures from the ordinary recurrence of events ; there is, in fact, nothing that indicates any thing but Fate. This region is the region of science, which has the quality of being the same for all men, wherever they may be FAITH. 307 situated; and, consequently, of furnishing for the whole race of mankind a body of truth, which unites the human intelligences in the contemplation of the same general facts, and the same general laws. On the other hand. Inwardly we are conscious of a moral world, which necessarily bears with it the evidence of a Moral Lawgiver, a Divine Spirit, who is to us invisible. Inwardly we are conscious of a moral law, which requires infinite perfection to satisfy it. Inwardly we are assured that there is more in the universe than can be appreciated by the eye or the senses, — that there is, in fact, another world, out of which we are, as it were, banished for a season. It is not appreciable to sense, yet we cannot possibly deny its existence without contradicting the very constitution of our own nature and being. Hence, then, moral perfection being certainly the character of the Author of our moral being, — and moral imperfection (with pain, evil, death, and other things difficult to co-ordinate with the conception of perfect goodness) being certainly the character of man, — how can we reconcile the outward world with the conception of the perfect moral world ? To this we answer, " By faith," — by faith in our own moral nature, and in the moral perfection of God. Let us make the admission that the moral world is the essential world, and the outward universe only the subsidiary world, and all difficulties as to the goodness of God, — at least, such difficulties as originate in a scrutiny of the outward events that perplex our reason, — fall at once to the ground. 308 THE INTUITIONAL, OR COMPOSITE ARGUMENT. That is, they may still be incapable of solution, they may still appear as mysteries, they may still perplex us in so far as they are at present insoluble, but they no longer afford a ground of scepticism or denial of the goodness of God. We say, therefore, that all objections (and they are innumerable), — all objections derived from the existence of pain, evil, and death, in the outward world, — which, indeed, would be most real and valid objections, if we had only the outward world to depend upon for our knowledge of God ; — we say that all such objections are demolished the moment we grant the supremacy of the spiritual world over the corporeal. And this, we apprehend, is the mean ing of the divine direction : " Fear not them who can kill the body," — plainly implying, that pain and death are not the evils which it behoves man to rank in the first category ; and, in fact, that what we call evil — outward evil — may conduce to real good; that is, to moral good. That which, is evil in the outward and corporeal world may be the discipline of the spirit, and this whole world may be a dispensation of pro bation. And that it is so, becomes pre-eminently probable the very moment we admit the existence of a spiritual world. We know that it is so, from revelation ; but we maintain that, from considerations independent of revelation, there is the very highest probability or presumption, that man is undergoing a course of probation in the outward vestibule of the universe, and that, if his eyes were opened to see what the universe actually does contain, he might THE TWO WORLDS. 309 see an entirely different world, peopled with pure created spirits, who were living in the performance of that moral obedience which is impossible for our fallen race. How, then, are we to construe the two worlds ? Each world, we know, has laws. The physical universe (and in all probability the psychological universe) is under dynamic regulation, — that is, all its operations are determined by God, according to a schematic system which produces similar phenomena in similar circumstances. That thought is subject to laws exactly in the same sense as matter, is no argu ment against a moral universe, for thought has, of course, a mechanism or process, both logical in its analysis and chronological in the fact of its occur rence. The moral world, however, has to do with the will ; and unless it could be shown that the will was determined on a fatalistic plan, (which, indeed, some have attempted, but which, if true, would obliterate the very idea of will,) no theory of the merely intellectual process would affect the doc trine that man was morally responsible, and was to some degree the conscious selecter of his own actions. The moral law is of an entirely different nature from a physical, organic, or psychological law. It is the law of the ought addressed to a will, — and moral perfection consists in the mind consciously and freely choosing to obey its dictate. Man, we know, is im perfect; and imperfect in this sense and from this very fact, that he does not, and cannot, obey the dictate of 310 THE INTUITIONAL, OR COMPOSITE ARGUMENT. his moral nature. He not only does that which he ought not, but he does that which he would not, and he fails to do that which he would fain do. Of all facts connected with man, this is one of the most in dubitable, that one portion of his nature strives against the other portion, and that the wrong por tion gains too often the mastery. It matters little whether at this part of our argument we call human nature a fallen nature, or a corrupt nature, or a dis ordered nature, the name being of little importance, but it is absolutely certain that there is in man the fact of a moral antagonism, and the fact of moral imperfection. Now, let us consider : on the one hand we have the temptation, something which is outwardly good and pleasant ; and inwardly, we have the moral law, telling us that it is not good. Between these, there fore, there is antagonism, there is war, conflict, and continual strife. Desire on the one hand is alluring, duty on the other is forbidding; if the outward world gain the victory, then has man done wrong ; if the inward world gain the victory, then has man so far escaped from doing wrong. But this perpetual strife is fatal to the idea of perfection, for perfection requires that the mind should freely elect the good ; and this the human mind certainly does not do, as we are assured by our own consciousness, and by the universal confession of those who are entitled to attention. We must admit then, fully, and to the utmost extent, that man by his own efforts cannot attain to PROBATION. 311 moral perfection, that he cannot fully and constantly obey the moral law, even of his own nature, and that morally he is an imperfect and disordered being. But, speculatively, even this fact (although it greatly tends to distort the intellectual vision of truth) does not absolutely prevent the reconciliation of the conception of a perfect Moral Governor, with the existence of pain and evil in the outward world ; which is the first objection we propose to remove. Let us clearly fix in our mind that the spiritual world is supreme, that man's spiritual welfare is par amount to his corporeal welfare, and that pain and sorrow (great evils in themselves, if the outward world were the all) may be the very means employed by God to advance the spiritual welfare of the human race, in its present state of probation. We say this may be so ; it is not necessary to prove distinctly that it is so, for the very possibility is sufficient to destroy all that course of argumentation which founds on the occurrences of the outward world. Let us admit that man is in a state of probation, of discipline, of preparation, of trial, and, in one sense, of education. By what means was man to be tried, proven, and educated ? By presenting on the one hand, and in the outward world, some object of desire, and by forbidding the appropriation of that object, through a moral law. Obedience would continually tend to strengthen the soul of man, and to establish the habitual supremacy of the spiritual world. Dis obedience would tend to make the outward world supreme, and to make the soul sink from its spiritual 312 THE INTUITIONAL, OR COMPOSITE ARGUMENT. relationship to God, into an outward relationship to the external world. Supposing, then, that such may have been the case, we can plainly perceive, that pain and evil in the outward world might be em ployed as the elements of discipline ; for if man had found the outward world all fair, prosperous, and pleasant, he would have been tempted to dwell there, and to shut his eyes as much as possible to the dic tates of his moral nature. Pain, in the outward world, may be (and, as a fact, we know it often is) the means of driving man to ponder on his spiritual condition, and to seek for satisfaction elsewhere than in the outward region of sense. Nor is it at all necessary that this pain should be visited on man in a specific form, — that is, that each breach of the moral law should meet at once with a specific punishment, specially intended to declare the disapprobation of God. We have no reason for supposing that such is the dispensation of the pre sent world. The most pious and conscientious men have been subjected to the most cruel trials, while the impious have appeared to pass successfully through life, and to escape with less than an ordinary degree of suffering. Lazarus sits at the gate, while Dives feasts at the table ; but this only proves, that in this world all are placed under a common dispensation, and that, on the other hand, a pious man may be pre eminently successful, while a wicked man may also be abandoned to the utmost worldly wretchedness. All that is necessary is, that the ordinary constitu tion of the outward world be such as conduces to the PROBATION. 313 probation of all parties, — that it should afford a suit able residence for man during his trial, — that its pleasures, and pains, and all its outward events, should be squared upon a plan that tests and tries, but that does not absolutely punish, and does not absolutely reward. If, then, we admit that man, in his present state, is in a state of probation, let us ask in what does that probation consist, and by what means can it be effected for the advancement of man's good ? It will now be seen (if we thoroughly establish in our own minds the idea that the spiritual world is supreme), that the term good does not apply to out ward prosperity, freedom from pain, or to any worldly success, or worldly advantage. It applies entirely to the development of spiritual good, of godliness in the soul of man, — in the triumph of the spiritual world over the corporeal and external world. The Stoic had hold of a great truth, though he knew not what to make of it. Probation, then, consists in this, that man should be placed in circumstances where there was a struggle or antagonism between the two worlds, — the out ward world presenting, as its supreme good, gratifi cation ; the inward world presenting, as its supreme good, obedience. Now, it is not necessary that in every case there should be antagonism between grati fication and obedience, but only in some case, so that man should be tested as to whether he would or would not admit the supremacy of the moral law. This would be probation, proof, trial, the testing of 314 the will, the verification of the true and genuine nature of the individual, the experimental process by which should be determined the essential character of man. For this purpose there must necessarily be a law on the one hand, and a proposed qualification on the other, which the law forbade ; for only by this means could it be fairly tested, whether man would adhere to the moral unity of the universe by obedi ence to God, or whether he would endeavour to establish an independent will of his own, by presum ing to indulge in the forbidden gratification. By what means, then, could this probation be effected for the advancement of man's spiritual good? We reply, by the exercise of Faith. Without faith there could be no successful probation — faith being that quality that would tend to keep the spiritual world present to the mind, and to counter balance the desire of gratification, by the perpetual suggestion of the higher good. Faith, then, belongs, really and truly, to natural theology, and its province is to keep the moral attri butes of God present to the mind under all circum stances of moral temptation, or intellectual difficulty. When we experience pain, in our outward frame or in our trembling heart, what can assure us that God is infinitely good ? Faith. When we are immersed in difficulties which we cannot explain ; when we cannot understand the reason of events, or the construction of the world, and would fain believe, from outward evidence, that God is not wise, good, and merciful, — what can relieve us from our painful doubts, and FAITH. 315 convince us certainly that we are but limited and erring mortals, and that we must not oppose our par tial reading of the universe against the assurance of God's moral perfection ? Nothing but faith. The outward world is to the inward world only a seeming, — it may seem imperfect, or it may seem partial in its distribution, or it may seem inconsistent with itself, or it may seem incompatible with the divine perfec tions, or it may rack and torture us with intellectual difficulties, with temptations to believe in Pantheism, or in Fate, or with the stupendous wretchedness of belief that God cares not for man, and has thrown him for ever out of his presence, heedless what be comes of him, of his hopes, his fears, or his affections. All this the outward world may do, and it may bring us through fiery trials of outward condition, or still as fiery trials of mental conflict and spiritual agony. What, then, can afford us inward support and in ward consolation, — nay, more, inward assurance and firm conviction ? It is faith, — faith in our moral in tuitions, and faith in the perfections of God. The outward world may seem what it will ; but so long as our moral nature stands, and so long as we have faith in God, then so long is God the All-Perfect and the Infinitely Good, and in a moment he may transfer us from the outward world of probation into the spiritual world of essential being, — out of the world where we see as through a glass darkly, into the world where we should see face to face. Pains, troubles, trials, intellectual difficulties, in- 316 scrutable events, and all the outward phenomena of the world, are not, therefore, any evidence whatever against the moral perfection of God. They are only evidence that man is in a state of probation ; and that it matters not how much we may suffer in our ex perience of life, or how much we may be perplexed in our endeavour intellectually to construe the uni verse, provided the spiritual discipline has been achieved, and the soul of man has emerged from its probationary experience, confirmed in obedience, and strengthened in its moral powers, energies, and affections. In taking this view of faith, however, it must be remembered, that faith is here spoken of in its utmost generality, as that faith which might have been common to Socrates the philosopher and Stephen the martyr — as faith in a perfect Lawgiver, who has implanted in man a moral nature, and sub jected him to a moral law. We have not yet arrived at a specific faith ; we have, as yet, only its generic form in its most general operation. We have not yet what has been termed (correctly enough) a posi tive religion. We have only the abstract elements of a positive religion, just as when we have mathe matical science, we have the abstract elements of physical science. We are still wandering in the dark as to who God is, and what are the specific rules which he wishes us to obey. We have all the form of religion, but none of its material ; all the theory, but none of the specific facts which can transform that theory into an operative rule of life. We have A PROBABLE REVELATION. 317 the moral law in its general imperative, but not in its specific precept. We know that we ought to obey the moral law, but we do not as yet know its specific commandments. We do not know the actions which it enjoins, nor the actions which it forbids. We know it only in the general proposition, that if we knew its commandments, then those command ments would be imperative. We know that it is valid, and ought to be obeyed; but the particular manner of obedience we do not know, until we shall have received specific communication from the Author of our being. Hence, then, it is (from these considerations) pre eminently probable, that there should be such a com munication. So far, indeed, from revelation being improbable, it is so very probable, that without it there would be a distinct vacancy in the scheme of knowledge. There would be a universal preparation for it, and yet that itself should be wanting. There would be all the abstract form of a religion, but none of its real matter. There would be man, constructed in every point for the fulfilment of duty, for obe dience to God, and for reverence of the Most High, and yet altogether at sea as to what was duty, igno rant as to who was God, and reverencing an unknown person. Such a supposition, so far from being pro bable, is utterly absurd, — it has nothing whatever to commend it, no parallel in the whole history of the world, no analogy with any thing we know, and no resemblance to any thing whatever that falls within the limit of our experience. We say, then, that so 318 THE INTUITIONAL, OR COMPOSITE ARGUMENT. far from a revelation being improbable, it is the very requisite that reason points out as necessary to com plete the scheme of human belief. Reason, in fact, terminates at the very proposition, — "Look for a revelation." Reason says, " I have prepared the way for the specific knowledge of God, by showing you that such knowledge is the main want of hu manity, and that without it you can know nothing that is worth knowing, — look for a revelation." Such is the very province of reason, not to teach us a re ligion, not to tell us who God is, not to inform us as to our specific relations to God, and our specific duties to God, but to tell us that there is a God, and that his will is supreme, and ought universally to be obeyed. Hence, then, reason points directly and immediately to revelation ; not that reason is incomplete, or its teaching insufficient, for this would be a fatal supposition, but that the province of reason (let it even be perfect reason) is only of that general nature, that it requires specific revelation to complete it. So far as it goes, reason is a most valid and trustworthy instructor; but its province is not to instruct us in religion, only to instruct us in those general forms that admit a true religion, and point out its absolute necessity. Reason furnishes the scheme, revelation furnishes the fact and the doc trine ; and we are no more to decry reason, because it does not teach us the specific facts and precepts of a positive religion, than we are to decry mathe matics, because they do not teach us the specific facts and laws of the physical creation. ALTERNATIVES. 319 Hence, then, we say that when we carry the con clusions derived from our moral nature into the external and objective world, we carry with us also a high probability, that if we search we shall find a revelation from the Divine Being. This revelation, if, indeed, there be one, would entirely supersede all inductions from the external world, and it would supply the concrete facts and precepts necessary to complete the abstract teachings of a moral theology. Having thus indicated the method by which we remove all the moral difficulties connected with the conception of a perfect God reigning supreme in the spiritual world on the one hand, and an ex ternal world of pain, sorrow, disease, and death, on the other hand ; we might now proceed to the consideration of revelation. But as the object is not so much to remove the moral difficulties that have to do with the conduct, as the speculative diffi culties that have to do with the belief, and to exhibit the genuine conclusions of a natural theology elabor ated in its various departments, we shall still offer a few observations on the conciliation of the knowledge and belief derived from external nature, with the convictions derived from moral intuition. When we say, "a natural theology elaborated in its various departments," we do not mean that any such theology has yet been achieved, or even that at this age of the world, with science only half com pleted, it is capable of achievement, because man has not yet scrutinised all the departments of research that are capable of enlightening him. The natural 320 history of society has yet to be much more fully investigated, and moral science has still to assume a form and certitude, which will place it in a very different position from that which it at present occupies. We mean that we may take up every department, and approximate by a general method the probable conclusion which it would furnish, were each department completed. This method is quite legitimate, because a small advance in any science is sufficient to indicate in general terms the theological conclusion it is destined to furnish. How, then, do we remove the sum total of the difficulties connected with the external world, — a world in which the wicked are often prosperous, while the righteous are trodden under foot. First, Either there is no moral law whatever, no moral obligation, no duty, no crime, no conscience, and no religion ; or, there is another world (we need not say a future, but another world), invisible to the eye of man. Second, Either the moral dictate implanted in the soul of man is entirely fallacious ; or, God is per fectly just and holy. Third, In this world, we do not observe any re gular execution of moral justice ; that is, the events of the world are not squared on a plan of equal dis tribution, equal retribution, and equal reward. Fourth, Either, then, God is not just, or there re mains some other dispensation of punishment and reward, fairly proportioned to the requirements of each individual case. ALTERNATIVES. 321 Fifth, Hence the events of this world are not to be taken as the final operations of God. Sixth, But if this world be not, as regards man, the final dispensation, two consequences arise, — first, that this life is transitory and probationary ; second, that there must remain for man a future world, in which justice shall be infallibly executed, according to the most perfect rule of right. Seventh, But if this world be a world of proba tion, then must it contain antagonisms, for only on the supposition of antagonisms can we conceive pro bation. Eighth, These antagonisms, therefore, so far from being inexplicable in the reason of their existence (their final cause), are the very circumstances that constitute the probation ; and hence, the very appear ances of their inexplicability, or the doubts they throw over the perfect goodness and justice of God, are themselves a portion of the probation to which man is subject. Ninth, Hence, under all circumstances of human life, of human trial, of human doubt, and human difficulty, it is requisite that man should exercise faith, because faith is the element that will bring man through his probation, and cause him to main tain in his own mind the habitual presence of the spiritual and unseen world. Tenth, But as man himself, by the universal ac knowledgment of all religions, and of all human con sciousness, is incapable of fulfilling what even he establishes as a perfect moral law ; and as he is thereby 322 THE INTUITIONAL, OR COMPOSITE ARGUMENT. for ever excluded from the possibility of a successful probation, either man is without hope, lost, ruined, and undone, and absolutely excluded from that world of moral perfection and bliss to which his moral na ture necessarily directs his reason ; or, there must remain some means of redemption and restoration, which has not its origin with man but with GOD. Such, then, may be presented as a fair and impar tial conclusion. Man's moral corruption, and the antithesis of the two worlds, are as certain and as well-established facts as any fact with which man is acquainted. We have now, therefore, to inquire whether there is any solution of this master-difficulty ; whether God has deigned to enlighten man on the major problem of human philosophy ; and, above all, whether God has provided man with means by which he can achieve a successful probation, and at last be translated into the world of spiritual purity and bliss. We shall now, therefore, sum up the whole con clusion of a natural theology, and determine the position in which the Reason leaves us when we approach the question of Revelation . GENERAL CONCLUSION. THEOLOGY. 1. The universe in which man dwells is duplex, — first, the natural universe, which is cognisable by the senses, the understanding, and the reason ; and, second, the spiritual or supernatural universe, which is incognisable by the senses and the understanding, GENERAL CONCLUSION. 323 but necessarily recognised in its existence by the moral faculties and the higher reason. 2. There is (not in the universe as being contained in space, but there is universally) AN INFINITE PERSON, who is the author of all else that exists as substantial being. 3. In the natural universe, space and time are the primordial necessaries of thought, of which we cannot divest ourselves by any possibility. They are con ceived, the first as infinite in all directions, and the second as without a beginning and without an end. 4. In the spiritual universe space and time are non-necessary, and, consequently, space and time may be, for any thing we can certainly know, only the primordiaiybrnzs of terrestrial thought.* 5. Be this as it may, however, and whether we do or do not admit the reality of material substance (a * It is, therefore, possible that space and time, like all limited existence, may be entirely dependent on the creating PEESON, and that space and time might be obliterated from the human apprehension, although we cannot conceive the mode of thought that would prevail were space and time removed. That there may exist consciousness without the conception of space and time, is proven by certain mental states and conditions superinduced by the action of certain medicines, and, consequently, man might remain in such condition for a longer or shorter time, as, for in stance, after death. The conceptions, space and time, are not absolutely requisite to consciousness, but only requisite to the exercise of the intellect in man's present form of existence. Space and time, therefore, are to be ranked as the pre-requisites of the natural universe, but they are not to be ranked as the pre-requi sites of the spiritual universe, inasmuch as mind is incommensur able with space. We must admit, then, that though we cannot conceive the absence of space, and though space be the first re- 324 THE INTUITIONAL, OR COMPOSITE ARGUMENT. question which seems to be incapable of philosophical solution, inasmuch as either hypothesis might be in capable of refutation, had we no other means of knowledge than the exercise of our intellect), we must necessarily admit — that the universe contains, or rather is coincident with, an INFINITE PER SON, who is (in the natural universe) Omnipresent, Omniscient, Omnipotent,Eternal, — that he is the universal Creator and Cause of all things, ordering all things by his wisdom, and ruling all things by his power, — that without him no being could be possible. 6. In the moral universe God is the ALL-PER FECT. In the natural universe, God is the Infinite in extension ; in the moral universe, God is the infi nite in intension, — in breadth of existence, perfect; and in depth of nature, perfect. Thus, in the moral universe, God is Perfect in knowledge, Perfect in wisdom, Perfect in power, Perfect in truth, Perfect in justice, Perfect in goodness, Perfectly holy, and perfectly claiming as his right quisite for the existence of the natural world, yet that there exists a universe other than the universe of space, a world in which the units of being (minds) have no sensible or conceivable dimension. general conclusion. 325 the perfect obedience, confidence, love, and service of all created beings. 7. God is morally one. There is one Supreme Will. Such are the conclusions of a speculative theo logy. To complete the scheme of man's intel lectual requirements, we must have the elements of a practical theology, and introduce what we have learnt of man, that we may thereby establish the relation between the Divine Creator and the human creature. ANTHROPOLOGY. 1. Man is a sensational, intelligent, rational, and moral being, — Limited in space ; Having a beginning in time ; Partial in knowledge ; Partial in power ; !N ot self-existent ; Dependent for being ; The creature of God. 2. Man is Imperfect in knowledge, Imperfect in wisdom, Imperfect In power, Imperfect in truth, Imperfect in justice, Imperfect in goodness ; an imperfect and incapable being, owing perfect obedience, confidence, love, and service to God. 326 THE INTUITIONAL, OR COMPOSITE ARGUMENT. 3. Inasmuch as man does not render perfect obedience to God, man is a guilty being. 4. That inasmuch as God could not have created man imperfect, and incapable of obeying the moral law to which he was to be subject, man cannot now be in the original condition of his creation. 5. That there must have occurred some great moral catastrophe, whereby present man has in herited a nature that will not and cannot obey the perfect moral dictate. 6. That inasmuch as perfect justice is not executed in this world, man is in a state of suspended con demnation ; and there is, therefore, a high presump tion that man must have a future existence, in which punishments and rewards shall be dealt out on some principle which is not in operation in this world. 7. That inasmuch as man is now placed (and, from the constitution of the world, appears always to have been placed) in the predicament of having an object of desire on the one hand, and a moral restric tion on the other, man is in a state of probation, — of proof, trial, and testing of the will. 8. That the achievement of a successful proba tion — inasmuch as man cannot obey the moral law of his nature — is a hopeless impossibility, if man be left to the exercise of his own energies alone. 9. That, under any circumstances, the only means by which any man could have achieved a successful probation, is faith. 10. That inasmuch as judgment is not executed GENERAL CONCLUSION. 327 on man in this world, it seems highly probable that God may not have cast man off utterly, but may have provided some means of restoration, whereby man should still attain to the capacity of obedience. 11. That, hence, it is also probable that God has given a revelation to mankind. BOOK VI. REYELATION. BOOK VI. REYELATION. § 1. Revelation a Solution of a Problem. — We now come to the operation of the first principle with which we started, namely, that a theological argu ment must necessarily assume the form of a demon stration or of a solution, — the demonstration of a theorem, or the solution of a problem. All that has hitherto been advanced, is merely the statement of the conditions of a great problem, of which Revelation must furnish the solution. We do not arrogate the belief, that we have advanced a de monstration of the moral existence of God, as if the Infinite Wisdom needed aid and assistance from finite and erring powers. By no means ; in all that has been stated, we have continually borne in mind that God himself has spoken, and that it behoves man only to scrutinise the conditions of such prior belief as might exist without the divine communication. We have endeavoured to lay bare the requirements which a Revelation must fulfil, and to determine with some small precision the necessities of belief which, as it 332 REVELATION. were, precede and await the Divine instruction. But we have not endeavoured (and thought not of endea vouring) to supersede the need of Revelation, or to substitute a vague and general notion for an immi nent and vital truth. We affirm, then, that all natural theology is no more than the specification of the conditions of Revelation, — that if there were no Revelation, reason would not be practically worthy of regard further than that it might hold out a vague and dim hope that God might still dispense a ray of divine light to illumine the obscure darkness, and dispel the mystic supersti tions that gather around the heart, when exposed un aided to the contemplation of the great problem of the universe. Nay, we may say more, — we may affirm that natural theology, in a correct form, is only pos sible after the reception and study of Revelation ; for it is Revelation alone that clears up the master-diffi culties, and thereby enables us clearly to perceive the elements of the problem that has been solved. It is, therefore, no objection to natural theology, that it could not be elaborated by the heathen. Of course , it could not. If, however, we could find a heathen, or rather a man, of large intellect, and with out moral bias or prepossession, — without any bias of tradition or authority, and perfectly impartial, — then that man could, in all probability, elaborate some such theology as is here advanced. Such a man, however, cannot be found ; and, consequently, there never has existed on the face of the earth any one man who was in a position to elaborate a natural SOLUTION OF THE PROBLEM. 333 theology, — fairly to discover, weigh, and estimate the theological conclusion that the sum total of human cognition actually does contain. It is only after man's reason has been set free by Revelation, that man is able to reflect on the whole phenomenon, and to see, not how much he has learnt from nature, but how much he might have learnt. The logical value is precisely the same in both cases, — that is, a natural theology, whether arrived at in the onward course of investigation, or arrived at through the solution which Revelation has afforded of the great problem of the universe, is equally conclusive, pro vided it be really and truly a genuine natural theo logy. It matters not how we were able to arrive at the scheme, provided the scheme be logically un objectionable ; its value is the same whether it be an acquisition or a gift, — and we conceive that a true and tolerably complete natural theology is really one of the gifts conferred by Revelation — that God, in solving the great problem for man, has also given him the means of the highest intellectual exercise,' and furnished him with a theme which will always afford fitting occupation for the highest genius of man. This is the position. Revelation has solved the question. Now, accept Revelation, and then go into the field of Nature, and build up logically, step by step, such a natural theology as you can elaborate by the ordinary process of analysis, synthesis, and analogy. On the one hand, you must not infringe the laws of logic ; on the other, you must arrive at 334 REVELATION. a conclusion compatible with Revelation. If in your process you have sinned against logic, then your con clusion is illegitimate; if your conclusion does not coincide with Revelation, then your scheme is erro neous, either in its premises or in its process. If you have made an error in your process, then you must recalculate ; if you do not arrive at the re quired conclusion, then you must pull your scheme to pieces, and re-investigate the whole. Revelation is, in fact, the criterion of natural theology ; and the genuine problem of natural theology is to discover a system that shall have natural premises (admitted or unobjectionable), — that shall involve no logical error in its process, — and that shall arrive at a conclusion com patible with the essential doctrines of the Bible. If we discover such a system (even although it should have been entirely originated by our study of Revelation), then we have a genuine natural theology, that no thing can overturn. We must, therefore, determine the light in which *we propose to regard Revelation. By Revelation is meant, of course, the sum of truth contained in the Old and New Testaments,— in fact, THE BIBLE, which is a concise and convenient name for the whole scheme of history, philosophy, ethics, and religion, contained in those inspired writings, which convey to us a knowledge of The True God. The Bible may be used for various purposes. First, for its essential purpose, — the exhibition of the plan of redemption ; second, for the solution of the great problem of the universe; third, for its historical THE BIBLE. 335 teaching ; fourth, for its philology ; fifth, for its pru dential precept as applicable to this world; sixth, for its prophetic anticipation of this world's future history ; and so forth. All of these purposes are legitimate. We may study the Bible in many different modes, and for many dif ferent purposes. In this place, however, we use it entirely and exclusively as affording the solution of the major problem of the universe; and to place our view clearly and apparently before the apprehen sion of the student of natural theology, we shall use a double syllogism, and show, in the most concise manner, the elements of two courses of argumenta tion. First, then, we say, — 1. Whatever affords a solution of the major pro blem of the universe is divine : * The Bible affords a solution of the major problem of the universe : Therefore, the Bible is divine. And, second, we say, — 2. Whatever scheme comes from God, and teaches' man the facts and principles of the true religion, will contain a solution of the major problem of the universe : * The major problem of the universe is the substantiation of real existence objective to, and independent of, our own thoughts and consciousness, — the determination of an existence that would still exist were all finite mind and thought obliterated. The argument is, that revelation is subjective in its evidences, — objective in the matter of its truth; and, if so, it affords the only possible solution of the problem. 336 REVELATION. The Bible comes from Godj and teaches man the facts and principles of the true religion : Consequently, the Bible contains a solution of the major problem of the universe. We have purposely presented these two syllogisms together, because they form a circle; and it may even be said, that the two taken together present an instance of reasoning in a circle. To this we reply, that every problem with its solu tion forms, when solved, a circle. The very circum stance, that the solution is found, enables us to reason from either side of the equation ; whereas, if we were to reason only from the one side, we should reason from the known to the unknown, and should proceed upon the principle of discovery. When the solution of a problem is found, we proceed no longer on the principle of discovery, but of demonstrable correla tion ; and when we have the whole truth, we may indifferently prove either that the conditions of the problem lead to the conditions of the solution, or that the conditions of the solution lead to the condi tions of the problem. Thus, the divinity of the Bible leads us to anticipate that it will afford a solution of the grand problem that has baffled all human intel lect ; and, on the other hand, a complete solution of the philosophic difficulty is in itself sufficient proof that such solution must be of divine origin. When nature and reason propose the question, and when a scheme (professing to come from God) actually fur nishes a full and sufficient answer, then we say, with out hesitation, that we must believe in the divinity of AUTHENTICITY OF REVELATION. 337 that scheme, even if it were substantiated by no other evidence ; we know that there is other evidence, and perfectly sufficient evidence ; but any man, giving a fair, impartial, and candid consideration to the two terms, — namelyj the conditions of the question, and the answer furnished by the Bible, — must logically dismiss all intellectual doubt as to the divine origin of the Christian scheme. This seems, indeed, to be the strongest of all possible evidence that addresses itself to the mere intellect, because it is perpetual and uni versal; and though this peculiar kind of evidence has met with less elaborate exposition than other kinds, we conceive that it, and it mainly, is the true reason why the Christian missionary may fearlessly expound the Christian doctrine to any human audience, with out adducing the smallest evidence that the Bible came from God. He need not trouble himself with external evidences ; yet, in every country under the sun, and among all tribes of men, he may confidently expect that the bare suitability of the gospel to the great intellectual and moral requirements of man, will convince at least some that the Christian scheme is of divine, and not of human origin. If the Bible, in stead, of being authenticated in every possible way, had been found by a far-sailing navigator on some barren rock in the midst of the ocean ;= — and if the work of redemption, instead of being finished on Calvary, had been wrought out in some distant island that had long since sunk beneath the waves, and left no record save that contained in the new-found book, — the evi dence of the divinity of that Bible would have been 338 REVELATION. perfectly sufficient, — and it might have been accepted for this reason, and for this reason alone, that the Bible scheme is the only thing in the world that even approaches to a solution of the intellectual and moral difficulties which have baffled all the intellects, and all the researches, and all the philosophies, and all the false religions, and all the agonising cries for knowledge, that have ever prevailed on the surface of our globe. Hence, then, we regard the Bible as furnishing the solution of those intellectual and moral difficulties which present themselves to our reason when we carefully scrutinise nature and man. We need not say that every possible question is solved, but every question which it behoves man to know in his pre sent state, and every question which required to be solved to enable man to achieve his probation. The moment we admit a Revelation, we must admit that God would make it suitable to man's necessities. § 2. The conditions fulfilled by Revelation. — We have now, then, to enter on a criticism of Scripture, and to determine the conditions which a Revelation must fulfil. These we must divide into the philosophical and the moral. First, then, the master-difficulty of philosophy is the substantiation of objective truth. This objective truth may be expressed by many names. It may be called the knowledge of Essences and Causes, — the knowledge of the Infinite and the Absolute, — the knowledge of the Noumenon, as dis- CONDITIONS OF REVELATION. 339 tinguished from the knowledge of the Phenomenon, — the knowledge of Reality, as distinguished from the knowledge of Appearance, — the knowledge of what is, as distinguished from what seems ; and so forth. The same idea lies lurking in all these expressions. When philosophers not only disregard Revelation, but evidently pursue an erroneous method, it is neither surprising that they should arrive at an erroneous conclusion, nor that their conclusions should be altogether rejected by the mass of man kind. When they assure us that all our knowledge is relative, subjective, or phenomenal, we must re gard their statement as merely an imperfect reading of the laws of thought ; for this reason, that not only does the world refuse to believe it, but that the phi losophers never succeed in believing it themselves. The common sense, or, as it should rather be termed, the common reason of mankind, and even of the philosophers themselves, rejects the theory of an un knowable external world. All may be thought, but there is no evidence that any man has yet succeeded in convincing himself that his own thoughts are the All. In every question of this kind, the first, and most important proceeding (and the one almost always for gotten by philosophers), is to determine the possible modes by which the question could be solved. It is, for instance, utterly vain to argue concerning the im mortality of the soul, unless we first determine how the question could possibly be decided. What evidence could possibly be sufficient to convince us that the 340 REVELATION, soul is immortal ? It is plain that no presumption founded upon a finite experience could ever be suffi cient. There might be a presumption in favour of a future existence, but a future is not necessarily an endless existence. Now, what evidence could be suf ficient ? Suppose even an angel, who has existed myriads of ages, — how could that Being possibly know that he should not go out of existence ? His past life (however great the time, provided it had a com mencement) is incommensurable with infinity, and cannot afford a certainty that he shall always con tinue to exist. What evidence, then, is possible? There is, in the whole universe, only one possible evi dence — namely, a Revelation from an Infinite Being. Opinions of philosophers, therefore, are mere pre sumptions — because the only evidence that could be satisfactory, is a Revelation from Infinite Know ledge. The whole question, then, resolves itself into this, " Is there, or is there not, a Revelation ? " And so it is in this great question of objectivity or subjectivity. Philosophers have forgotten to ask, "What evidence could possibly be satisfactory?" — and until they ask this question, and answer it, their speculations (highly important as they are, for the elucidation of the intellectual powers and processes) are merely learned trifling. That is, — for secular purposes, their speculations are of great value ; for mental education, for the instruction of the reason, for the development of that acuteness that leads to accuracy of thought and statement, for the general exercise of the logical and rational faculties — these POSSIBLE MODES OF PROOF. 341 speculations are admirable. But theologically, these speculations are matters of indifference; because, though speculation be admirable as an exercise, yet the amount of truth which it could achieve under any circumstances, must be totally insufficient to satisfy the whole requirements of man. What possible means, then, could any created being have, of arriving at objective truth ? Let the intel lect be as great as it may — angelic — far beyond all human intellect — must not the knowledge be merely relative to the mind that knows ? How could even an angel be sure that his knowledge was not phe nomenal, ideal, subjective? Can we conceive any possible intellect (of a finite and created nature) being perfectly certain that the universe was not merely the phenomenon of thought ? However great the intellect, the knowledge must be relative to the knowing mind, when that mind acquires its know ledge only by its own exertion. Were it shut out from communication with the Infinite and Divine Being, we do not say that it could not arrive at ob jective truth, but we do say, most emphatically, that man cannot possibly conceive how it shauld arrive at objective truth, and be certain that it had arrived at the substratum of the universe. Neither do we here contradict what has been previously said with regard to farce (Book I. Chap. II. Sec^ n.), in the " argument from science, that man can know causes." When the sceptical philosophy affirms that we cannot attain to a knowledge of causes, it is a sufficient refutation of that system to adduce the use oi force in dynamic 342 REVELATION. science ; because force is at once positive and super sensible. But though we destroy the sceptical theory, and substantiate a noumenon, we have only lifted the question into a higher and more remote region, and never could be sure that our conclusions were abso lutely veracious, if left merely to the exercise of our own intelligence. Hence, in the whole universe, there is only one possible mode by which a finite creature can arrive at a knowledge of absolute truth, — namely, by a Revelation from the infinite God. And hence, also, Revelation solves the master- difficulty of philosophy, and actually places the Christian upon higher ground than any philosopher has ever attained. It may now be asked, however, how a finite being, who cannot attain to objective truth, can be sure that the Revelation comes from God ? To this we answer, By ascertaining whether the person making the Revelation be entitled to infinite confidence. The whole matter is summed up in this, — "Is the person making the Revelation entitled to the absolute con fidence of our whole being ? " We cannot go farther than this, for this is, to us, absolute. If, for instance, our Saviour were entitled only to such a degree of confidence as might arise from the exhibition of marvels and miracles, then that would not claim the whole confidence of man, because no merely intel lectual conviction can satisfy man's moral nature. These things may be taken and accepted as indica tions of a superior power, but they must be combined with a moral purpose and moral scheme that enlists UNLIMITED CONFIDENCE. 343 man's whole being. And when man's whole being, intellect, heart, and soul, combine to give unlimited confidence, or to assure him that notwithstanding the weakness and frailty of his nature, he ought to give unlimited confidence, then can he go no farther, but must say, " This is the true God,. I resign my whole being for ever and for ever into his hand and keeping." Thus, a Revelation may truly solve the great diffi culty of philosophy, by being subjective in its evidences and objective in the matter of its truth. We say, then, that Revelation is subjective in its evidences, and objective in the matter of its truth; and this consideration shows where (in the matter of Revelation) reason may be legitimately exercised, and where it may not be exercised. All the evidences are subjected to our reason, and God has made man judge of them, claiming acknowledgment only after proof. But the matter of Revelation is not thus sub jected to reason; it contains mysteries, — glorious mys teries, it is true, but still mysteries, — things beyond the province of reason, things that are to be believed on the testimony of God, who has first established his own truthfulness, and then given to man a knowledge of things to which man could never have attained. Nor is this method in the least unreasonable, or con trary to the analogy of nature, where the child be lieves the parent, not because he understands all that the parent teaches, but because he knows that his parent is worthy of confidence, and will not deceive him. Those who rush into the mysteries of the faith, 344 REVELATION. and pretend that they are not credible, because they are not comprehensible, depart entirely from every rule of method, inasmuch as they forget that what is sub jected to their reason is not the matter of the faith, but the evidence of the Revelation; and if they will perversely endeavour to construe that which never was intended to be construed, we need notwonderthatthey fall into errors and unbelief, — errors and unbelief, caused not by any insufficiency in the Revelation or its evidences, but by the tortuous and disingenuous mind which they have brought to bear on the subject. " If they believe not Moses and the prophets, neither would they believe if one rose from the dead." Hence, then, Revelation solves once and for all that mighty question that has so much perplexed the philosophical world. But how does it solve it ? In purely natural theology, we arrived at the fact, that there must necessarily be a Divine Person. We say we arrived at the fact, but we did not arrive at the knowledge of the PERSON. Like an orphan in the present world;, we were absolutely certain that we must have had a progenitor, a parent, but who the parent was we could not know. Revelation, then, gives us the knowledge of the Person, — " I am the Lord thy God." And now, we find an entirely new object for the operation oi faith. In natural theology we had faith in our moral nature, faith in the spiritual world, faith in the supremacy of the spiritual world, and faith in the perfection of God. But now our faith is transposed from faith in our subjective intuitions, FAITH AND REASON. 345 to faith in the object of our intuitions. It is no longer faith in our own moral nature, but faith in God himself. We have found the Divine Person, not by our own research, but by his revelation of himself; and thus there is the completion of the two terms, — -the finite and dependent creature rely ing upon the Infinite Creator. It will now be said, that this is not a genuine solution, because faith is not reason, and philosophy professes only to reason. But we reply, that faith is reason, and the very highest form of reason. If by reason we mean the mere comprehending intellect, then faith is not that reason, and that reason will never attain to the knowledge of the Infinite. It needs no philosopher to tell us, that we shall never be able to comprehend God as we comprehend thefinite exhibitions of matter, or the finite phenomena of human existence. The logical reason is a mere mechanism, a tool, a thing to work with,— a thing in the hands of the soul, to do the soul's work, when it contemplates the forms of the finite, and rationally elaborates science. But that reason is not the highest reason, nor is it com petent to act when th& soul, brought into the pre sence of its Maker, operates, not from the process of analysis, synthesis, and computation, but from the spontaneous and spiritual motive that involves the whole being of man. That is the higher reason ; and in this sense, faith is not only rational, but the most rational operation that the soul can perform. Faith is the very essence of reason, — the very quintessence 346 REVELATION. of man's rational being, — so high above mere logic, that it casts the arts of computation to the winds, and rushes at once to the object of its aspiration. Faith, in this sense, is like sight, — it brings us into the very presence of God, and makes man believe God with a belief that ought to be as infinite as the imperative of moral obligation. To say that faith is not reason, is as if we were to say that reason is not sensational appreciation, — a truth which only marks the superiority of reason over sense. Reason is the highest form of sense, and faith is the highest form of reason, — each operating in different regions of exist ence, but each operating on the universal principle of correlation between the faculty and its object. Hence, then, when God makes himself known, the problem is solved, and solved to the perfect satisfac tion of the higher reason. There remains, and there can remain, nothing else to solve. Of course, there may still remain (in extension) an infinite know ledge to acquire, but, in intension, the problem is absolutely solved ; because, if we may use the expres sion (and with reverence), faith is the union of the finite creature to the Infinite Creator. All creation is then seen as springing from God, — and God be comes man's Heavenly Father. We say, therefore, that Revelation solves perfectly the great mystery of the universe, and we have now to ask what solution God has given of man's present condition. § 3. In thus endeavouring to scrutinise the solu tion furnished by Scripture, of what may be termed the terrestrial problem, we confine the argument to THE THREE COMMANDS, 347 some of the essential doctrines contained in the in spired books. First, then, it is to be noted that the Bible does not furnish, and never pretends to furnish, a com plete and logical exposition of the proofs of the divine existence. Revelation is, therefore, presenta- tive, not representative. When God has deigned to speak or to reveal, the Revelation is of the most im minent character, affording the very highest degree of possible certitude, — the certitude of presence, not the certitude of inference. We have the record of the Revelations ; but those who received the Revela tions had the certitude of immediate communica tion, and, therefore, they had the highest proof that could possibly be afforded. God, in the full plenitude of majesty, has spoken to man, as man, three times. These communica tions have been made at long intervals, in dif ferent circumstances, and, seemingly, for different purposes. The first revelation may be termed, The prohibi tion. The second, The rule of life. The third, The way of salvation. In this order and arrangement, there is a logical connection that astonishes us at once with its sim plicity and its completeness. The first was, " Of every tree of the garden thou mayest freely eat ; but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, thou shalt not eat of it" The second was given many centuries later, — it was The Decalogue. 348 REVELATION. The third was at the transfiguration, — " This is my beloved Son, hear him." These, if we mistake not, are the only occasions on which God has spoken, in the plenitude of authority, to man, — not to man as placed under this or that dis pensation, or in this or that accidental circumstance, (accidental in its logical sense,) but to man as the finite creature generalised throughout the world, and receiving from the Creator the divine law for the guidance of his life. In these three divine commands, we have the most concise summary which can possibly be presented of the whole of the Bible scheme. The very fact, that these commands were given in the circumstances recorded in the Bible, is in itself a distinct proof of the divinity of the Bible. That human intelli gence originated the circumstances described, and the three laws to which we have referred, is so totally and hopelessly absurd, that we might believe any thing whatever, if we believed that this record did not come from God. The very highest efforts of human literature bear to this divine record about the same relation that an orrery does to the firma ment ; and we might as soon believe that man made the heavens and the earth, as we might believe that the three events were of human origin. God must have been there. § 4. First, then, we shall speak of the prohibition. Either the whole of human nature is an utter delusion, or there must have been a Paradise. Man must have been created innocent ; and for this reason. We know that there are such things, such a thing as A STATE OF INNOCENCE. 349 love, and hope, and poetry, and aspiration, and the dream of perfection. All the spontaneous senti ments of the soul point to innocence as the only condition that can satisfy our moral judgment. Now, we have this alternative. We may believe that our whole nature is a perfect mockery,-— that some demon produced us for the purpose of satanic recrea tion, — that he made us for some diabolic gratifica tion of his scorn and ridicule, — that he threw us into existence with the aspiration of immortal purity in our soul, and the necessity of impurity in our nature, — that all our hopes are lies, and our imagin ings of good only dreams which were given by some malignant spirit,- — that we might pass our life in torture, and end it in the agony of disappointment. Or we may believe, on the other hand, that our dreams of innocence are the shattered remnants of a fallen nature, — that there was a state of innocence, — ¦ that God is true, — that all poetry represents some lost reality, — and that our nature, like the broken lyre, has only ceased to discourse its heavenly music, because sin has swept its chords with a deadly hand, and left us only the wreck of our im mortal heritage. Human nature, in fact, has no meaning, if man were not once innocent. Honour, virtue, love, innocence, purity, hope, and freedom, would all be mythical, — superstitious unrealities, which we ought to sweep away for ever from our scientific age, — for they represent nothing that exists, and nothing that we have any experience of. There must have been a time of innocence, or man could never have con- 350 REVELATION. ceived it, — there must have been a Paradise, or man never could have imagined the garden of Eden, — there must have been an Eve, or the whole of our present poetic nature is a perfect lie and imposition. There must have been a Paradise, or there could not now be a moral law pointing to innocence as the model of perfection. But we are told that man has been developed — that he has grown out of the lower animals, or out of some low, degraded savage. This doctrine (which appears to have more adherents than we could ex pect, did we not remember that those who reject Revelation are the most romantically credulous on all other matters), — this doctrine is said to be scientifically preposterous, by those sober investiga tors who cultivate knowledge as distinguished from empirical pretension. On the scientific question we do not intend to speak, but of this we are perfectly assured, that the theory of development is impossible in literature. If man were developed out of some brute, or even out of some wandering savage, how does it happen that the very oldest literature in the world should contain the very highest conception of human life, — that the very oldest book in the world (for we suppose it will scarcely be contested, that the five books printed at the beginning of our Bibles, and the Book of Job, are the very oldest of all extant literature,) should contain a picture which no modern and no other book has ever even approached ? Every literary man in the world must perceive, upon a mo ment's reflection, that what is termed development THE DEVELOPMENT THEORY. 351 is absolutely impossible in literature. If, indeed, we found a Bushman, or an Australian savage, producing the majestic Book of Genesis, our faith might so far be shaken ; but when we find the savage universally confining his attention to matters of physical interest, degrading superstition, or the rags of tradition, we must, as literary men, scout this doctrine of develop ment as a vain and conceited confusion — the con fusion of an analogy with a literal fact. It is quite true that there is an analogy between the gradual formation of an individual animal, and the gradual development of forms in the specific arrangement of the whole animal kingdom. This is quite true, and a rabid guesser might guess that the lower animal grew gradually into the higher. But a fatal fact is ever in the way of this theory of development. The whole realm of animated nature does not contain one transitional form. True, the egg changes into the fowl or the reptile, but the specific difference is uni versally preserved, and no instance can be adduced in which there is the slightest evidence of a change transforming one species into another. The whole theory originates entirely in confounding an analogy with a fact. The development of an individual animal is analogous to the gradual increase of com plexity observed in the classification of the animal kingdom, but no transitional form of one species into another has ever been discovered; and the whole theory of development is without one single fact on which to base its preposterous scepticism. But there is another fact, which is apt to be over- 352 REVELATION. looked. It matters not how man was produced. So long as he is a moral being endowed with a moral will, it matters not whether he were made out of an ape or out of the dust of the ground. Of what consequence is it whether the material substance that forms his body were or were not arranged into a previous organism ? It is mere matter after all, — mere carbon, earthy salts, and gases, with traces of metals. Does this make any difference to the nature and destiny of the immortal spirit that inhabits the tenement ? Does any fact whatever connected with the corporeal residence of the soul unhinge our moral convictions, and cast us loose from the bands of religion ? Man is man, not because he is formed in this manner or in that, but because God has breathed into his mortal frame the breath of life, and endowed him with a spiritual existence, that entails with it the highest responsibilities. A paradise, a condition of primeval innocence, a state of probation, and a fall, are absolutely requisite before we can explain any thing connected with man. Without these, philosophy would lead us only to a hopeless mystery ; we should know absolutely nothing, and never should be able to attain to know ledge, for all the science that has ever been evolved does not advance man a single step in the explana tion of his moral nature and moral condition. No man who has rejected these four particulars has ever been able to advance an explanation possessing even the most remote claims to acceptance. They, and they only, solve the perplexing question of human THE FALL. 353 existence, — of man endowed with the conception of the virtues, yet constantly practising the opposite evils. Scripture, then, informs us that man was originally created pure and innocent,— that he was placed in circumstances of happiness, — that he had direct com munication with God, — that to him was appointed a probation,— that he was tempted, — that he fell, and in his fall entailed with him his race. And hence the origin of all the wickedness, violence, and sin that have prevailed throughout the world ; and which spring not from ignorance merely, but from an evil and corrupt nature. Knowledge (as mere intellection) is an accident, a corrupt nature is an inherent character of our essential being. As this dissertation proposes only a logical inquiry into what the Bible does teach, and the conciliation of this doctrine with the conditions of the terrestial problem, we shall not dwell on the picture of man's early existence in the garden of Eden. But, surely, there is no human heart that can remain untouched at the contemplation of that fairest scene that ever broke on the imagination of mankind ? The poetic feeling of our nature t(and the poetic feeling, to whatever uses turned, is of heavenly origin, and possibly was given to man to clothe all things with loveliness) may dwell with unlimited satisfaction on the beauty of that unmarred world, where innocence walked hand in hand with love, and where the very thought of sorrow was as yet unknown. It is gone, but not gone for .ever.; the Book .that opens with the 354 REVELATION. vision of the earthly paradise, closes with the vision of the heavenly home, where God shall wipe all tears from the eyes of his children, and where sin and sorrow shall be seen no more. We have said, in our conclusion from Natural Theology, that man, placed on the earth, must be in a state of probation ; and Scripture perfectly con firms and explains that conclusion. Man was in a state of probation, he was created into a state of probation, — it was his condition by nature, the con dition appointed for him when God called him into existence. The probation consisted in his having an object of desire on the one hand, and a law, for bidding his appropriation of the object, on the other. It was not, as we previously concluded, a moral law derived from the intuitions, forbidding something which the senses or appetites desired, but which the moral intuitions would not sanction. It was a posi~ tive and specific law, applied to a positive and specific action, which, without the law, might, perhaps, have been indifferent. The permanent or immutable morality did not consist in doing, or not doing, this particular action, but in rendering, or not rendering, obedience to God. Hence, this first portion of Reve lation exhibits* another principle at which we pre viously arrived, namely, the supremacy of God. God's will is absolute, and demands rightfully the * We say exhibits, not proves, as the Bible does not pretend to prove. It makes an exhibition of truth, and the proof is con tained in the exhibition. There are no doubts in the Bible, ex cept on the part of man. THE DIVINE SUPREMACY. 355 most perfect and consummate obedience; for this universal obedience to the one Supreme will, is that which constitutes the harmony of the moral uni verse, — not that the term absolute has any relation to what we term tyranny or despotism (which is the reign of human and finite will), but that God, being infinite in all perfections, it is at once a matter of right, and a matter of the highest reason, that his will should be supreme. If we make God an object, or reason of these things as if God were not the very fountain of the universe itself, — the Infinite Person by whom all things consist, — then we fall into a false notion regarding the supremacy of the Divine will, and are apt to suppose it oppressive ; whereas, if we duly consider that moral harmony can only be at tained by universal obedience, and that all sin is really and truly disobedience to the law of God, God being infinitely wise and good, we shall see that all such thoughts are only the dark misgivings of our own fallen nature, and that God infinitely merits obedience, — if we may use the term merits to express that which the Divine Being not only desires, but infinitely deserves as due. Of course, we, as fallen creatures, repine and rebel against God ; but that is not the question, the question is, Whether, in the judgment of our reason, a divine and infinitely per fect Being is entitled to absolute obedience from his creatures; for if not, then what rule could possibly be established or even conceived? We say, then, that God is supreme, not merely in power but in right; it is God's right to receive obe^ 356 REVELATION. dience, as it is man's duty to render obedience ; but not only man's duty, it is the duty of every possible creature that ever existed, or ever can exist. God is the All, and on God all things are dependent. But not only do we learn the assertion of God's supremacy, and the fact that man was placed in a state of probation, we learn that vital fact which is the key to all human history, namely, the fail of man. Unless we admit the fall, the whole of past history, of present fact, and of possible philosophy, becomes altogether inexplicable. We cannot reason a single step concerning man, unless we admit this moral catastrophe. It may be difficult to reconcile our present notions with the scriptural doctrine, that the disobedience of our representative father should entail on all his descendants a fallen nature. But of the fact there .can be no reasonable doubt — because we cannot conceive a morally perfect God creating man such as he is at present ; and we have the distinct assertion of Scripture, that Adam's transgression was the fall — not of Adam as an individual — but of Adam as man. God placed man in a state of pro bation, and man transgressed against God. Thence forth all men born into the world by natural genera tion partook of Adam's transgression. It may be difficult to reconcile this with our reason, it may even be impossible to reconcile it (on this we pronounce no judgment), but most assuredly it .is the fact, and we shall hereafter have to point out a correlative fact, which is the counterpart of the fall. If there be no fall, there is, in fact, no Revelation whatever, for the THE FALL. 357 whole of the Bible scheme hinges on the fall ; and if there be no fall, the Bible is a mere myth, of no more value than a story-book. The fall, then,— which consisted in the fact of man's disobedience to God, and the consequences of that disobedience, — is the great moral catastrophe which throws the first gleam of light on the philo sophy of man. It is the origin (the logical origin, not the origin in time, for as with God there can be no contingency, so must we necessarily suppose all His purposes to be eternally foreordained), — we say the fall is the origin of that wonderful scheme, which is afterwards exhibited in the development of the Christology. After the fall, the Bible scheme begins imme diately to change its character, at first with the sha dowy announcement of a plan of mercy, to be wrought out by some mysterious personage, whose real cha racter and lineage are only faintly surmised ; but growing gradually more precise through consecutive revelations, symbolic instructions, and prophetic an ticipations, until at last the mighty advent had arrived, and the Son- of God- appeared on earth as the Man of Sorrows. We must, therefore, distinguish in the Bible doc trine that which is Theology and that which is Christo logy. This distinction we can make without entering into any of those vain disputations concerning the persons of the Trinity, which proceed upon a hidden assumption, that we can make this mighty mystery more intelligible by the application of our logical 358 REVELATION. reason. We renounce every thing of the kind. We do not attempt to reason for one single moment con cerning the persons of the Trinity, or the relation that Christ bears to Him whom he calls Father. It is a mystery ; and even if it be capable of being un derstood by the human intelligence, we must accept it as an intentional mystery, satisfied that the form of Revelation is divine as well as its Maker, and that God had given exactly such a revelation as is best suited to the wants of the human race. We say, therefore, that we must distinguish be tween what the Bible teaches as theology, and what the Bible teaches as christology. [This term is not much used in this country, but it is unobjectionable, as it is analogous with theology, and expresses the theoretic scheme of Christianity, whereas the term Christianity is more frequently applied to the moral scheme.] Hence, when we pass onward from the fall of man, we find a double course of Revelation, the Revelation of God and of the law of perfect rectitude, and the Revelation of Jesus Christ and of his Gospel of glad tidings. § 5. The second Revelation to which we have refer red, was a theological revelation. It consisted of the Decalogue, The Decalogue was given twice, and per haps we may discover some remarkable instruction conveyed even under that circumstance, which appears in Scripture as a mere narration. Why was the Deca logue given twice ? We may suggest a reason for this fact, not dependent on the anger of Moses, or the idolatry of the children of Israel, but a reason that the decalogue. 359 links itself immediately with the whole scheme of Revelation. Man had fallen, he had lost the image of his Maker, and a nation had been selected to exhi bit by its terrestrial career the allegory of that scheme by which man passes from the bondage and servitude of sin into the promised land of God's free gift. In choosing Abram and his descendants, God ex hibits that supreme right of election which is taught from the beginning of Scripture to the end of it. Election by God is one of those vital facts which run through the whole of Scripture, teaching us that both in the world of nature and in the world of grace, there is a Providence that overlooks the world, and directs what is termed the destiny of man. This Providence is sometimes confounded with the doc trine of miracles ; but miracles, — that is, departures from the ordinary laws of nature in the objective world of matter, — are not in the slightest degree required to establish the doctrine of a special providence. God, in his infinite foresight, may have constructed the laws of the world on such a plan, that every operation of those laws should work specially as well as generally ; and also, God may so determine the volitions of the mind at certain times, and in certain circumstances, that a real providence is achieved, even without our knowing it, quite as much as if God had stayed the sun in the heavens, or caused the waters of the sea to divide. Miracles are in no respect necessary to the doctrine of providence. Why, then, was the Decalogue given twice ? We cannot suppose that God, who had designed the 360 REVELATIOSf. " whole career of the Israelites with so minute a par ticularity, allowed so remarkable a circumstance to take place without some symbolic meaning or moral purpose being cognisable in the outward event. Attaching, as we do, great significance to the fact that God has spoken to man, as man, only these three times, we offer what appears to be the expla nation of the breaking of the tables. There is per haps a very high meaning in this occurrence.- Man had fallen, and had become incapable of rendering perfect obedience to God. But God could not abate or diminish his perfect law. That which was right was right under all circumstances, and whether man were innocent or guilty, capable or incapable, the law must be proclaimed and justified, whatever the consequences to man. What, then, was the first giving of the Decalogue ? and what was the second giving of the Decalogue ? We shall observe a very remarkable difference in many of the particulars-. [Read the 19th and 20th chapters of Exodus, and the 5th chapter of Deu teronomy, &c.]' We have said that the only laws which God has given to man, as man, and in the plenitude of Divine Majesty, are The Prohibition, The Deca logue, and The Injunction to hear the Son of God. We refer exclusively to the first giving of the Decalogue. The first giving of the Decalogue was distinguished from the second by these particulars — ¦ 1. It was spoken by God himself, THE DECALOGUE. 361 2. In the plenitude of power, 3. To the whole assembled people ', 4. It was written- with the finger of God on tables of stone ; 5. It was the only part of the law spoken by God to the people. " These words the Lord spake unto all your assembly in the mount, out of the midst of the fire, of the cloud, and of the thick darkness, with a great voice ; and he added no more : and he wrote them in two tables of stone, and delivered them unto me." The Decalogue, therefore, in its first publication, is essentially distinguished from what is termed the Mosaic law. Moses was not the means of commu nication between God and man when the Decalogue was first given. The Decalogue is thus entirely in dependent of Moses. It was given by God to the whole assembled multitude, with signs, and wonders, and evidences ; it had no mediator, none standing between- the Almighty as the immortal Lawgiver, and man as the recipient of the law, — Moses himself was sent down to stand among the people ; and Moses himself received the law at its first promulga tion, merely as one of God's human creatures, stand ing with his fellows in the presence of the Infinite Lawgiver. Any assertion, that the Mosaic law is abrogated, does not affect the Decalogue. Such assertions have been made as if they did include the Decalogue,— but they only betray a careless and indifferent reading of Scripture, which does not usually terminate in any thing calculated to benefit 362 REVELATION. mankind — much more especially when they weaken the validity of that beneficent institution, which, one day in seven, relieves man from toil, and makes him remember that God is a God of mercy. The second giving of the Decalogue was entirely Mosaic. The first tables were " the work of God, and the writing was the writing of God, graven upon the tables." The second giving of the Decalogue was, — 1. Through Moses. 2. Moses hewed the tables. 3. God gave no commands, but gave the record or repetition of the former law, " I will write upon these tables the words that were in the first tables, which thou brakest." 4. It had a mediator, — Moses being the medium of communication between God and man. 5. The Decalogue was here given in connection with a large body of other law and precept. 6. It was accompanied by a revelation of mercy, whereas the first giving spoke only of obedience : "The Lord, the Lord God, merciful and gracious, long-suffering, and abundant in goodness and truth, keeping mercy for thousands, forgiving iniquity, and transgression, and sin, and that will by no means clear the guilty." — (Exodus xxxiv. 6.) This is an apparent contradiction, but it is one of those con tradictions which in Scripture contain the very highest possible truths. At the first giving of the Deca logue there was not a hint oi forgiveness. How, then, are we to construe the remarkable fact, THE DECALOGUE. 363 that the Decalogue was given twice, under such very different circumstances, — that the one was given without a mediator, and that the other was given through a mediator ? This, then, appears to be the explanation. The first Decalogue was a covenant of works ;* the second was a rule of life, annexed to a covenant of mercy. The first involved the idea of justification, — of non-culpability, — of freedom from the condemnation of God for actual transgression, — provided any man had kept the whole law perfectly. " This do, and thou shalt live," seems to have been the meaning of the first Decalogue ; but then, man was a fallen being, and could not observe the law in any sense of meri torious observance. The second Decalogue, on the contrary, had no thing whatever to do with justification. It did not involve the idea of merit, — it was not a covenant of works, — it was a rule of life. Man required to know how he was to live, even under a covenant of mercy, just as he still requires to know how he is to live * By a covenant of works, it is not meant that the first deca logue was actually a covenant of works, but that it was so in its nature. If this were all that God required from man, then man would have been free had he fulfilled all ; and this oonsideration constitues the decalogue a covenant of works. In the covenant of mercy, however, the theory of the whole matter forbids the very idea of man fulfilling all. A covenant of mercy, and a covenant of grace, are based on the very fact that man cannot fulfil all ; and that God, out of his infinite mercy, has provided some other means for the fulfilment of the law that could not be relaxed in its requirements. 364 REVELATION. under the gospel. And the Decalogue was the gracious Revelation of the perfect rule of life, of in estimable value to mankind, but of no avail for the justification of man with God. Consequently, as by the works of the law no flesh living shall be justified, the first tables — that is, the divine law of righteousness and the covenant of works — were first promulgated, as of necessity they must have been ; and they were then broken, show ing, by this most significant expression, that God had destroyed the covenant of works, because it was in capable of application to man. For the covenant of works God substitutes a covenant of mercy; and then the precepts, or commandments, which were incapable of effecting the justification of man in the sight of God, were reproduced as the universal rules of life for the universal guidance of mankind. The Decalogue, therefore, must be carefully distin guished from the Mosaic law. The Mosaic dispen sation was a dispensation of mercy, — of anticipative atonement,^— of foreshadows,— of offerings, sacrifices, purifications, types, and symbols, all having reference to a future manifestation of Christ. The moral law remained imperative, and the Decalogue was the moral rule of life, the infringement of which constituted sin, in contradistinction to the breach of the ceremonial law, which constituted uncleanness ; and as unclean ness was to be washed away by ceremonial purifica tion, so was sin to be forgiven through faith in that promised Redeemer, who was to fulfil the law, and to offer himself a sacrifice for sin* THE DECALOGUE. 365 Hence, we conclude, that the Decalogue is a law of universal obligation, although in no respect a means of justification. It ever remains the law that ought to be obeyed, under one single reservation, namely, that God in a subsequent Revelation of divine command, said in the fulness of authority, " This is my beloved Son, hear him." If Christ taught that the Decalogue was abrogated as a rule of life (for surely he taught that it was not a means of salvation), then the Decalogue would be superseded on God's own authority ; but if Christ did not teach that the Decalogue was abrogated, then the Decalogue remains a permanent body of divine command, which is universally obligatory on the whole of the human race, — not that it forms a portion of what may be peculiarly termed the christology, seeing that Christianity has to do with the redemption of man, but that it remains the permanent rule which would have been in operation, whether man had or had not fallen. True, had man not fallen, there might have been no need to give the Decalogue as a system of law specifically enacted, but it would have been in operation, — that is, it would have been the rule of life, even for unfallen creatures, and would have been exhibited in the actual conduct of Adam's descendants. But whether this be true or not, the great point of our argument is, that the abrogation or non- abrogation of the Mosaic law does not affect the first giving of the Decalogue, and that God, by telling man to hear his Son, placed the whole matter in the hands of Christ. In fact, we may connect 366 REVELATION. the two last revelations, the Decalogue and the Injunction, in this manner, " I am the Lord thy God : Thou shalt have none other gods before me. This is my beloved Son, hear him." For, in fact, the latter command may be termed the eleventh commandment, seeing that it was given, as Peter says, (not by any ordinary means of revelation through a prophet or individual, but) "from the excellent glory, — from heaven."* It was the con summation of theologie revelation, it was the authen tication of Christ as the Son of God, and as the supreme director of what was to be done and believed by man. Just as " the Lord said unto Moses, Lo, I come unto thee in a thick cloud, that the people may hear when I speak with thee, and believe thee for ever." The same Divine authentication that was given to Moses was given to Christ, with this important difference, that every law which Moses was to pro mulgate was given to Moses by God himself ; where as, when Christ appeared it was, " This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased, hear him," — con stituting Christ the supreme and authoritative revealer of the new dispensation. Thus, then, Christ was installed, not merely by miracles, which Moses and Aaron also wrought, but by the voice from * A distinct acknowledgment that heaven may be about us, even though we cannot see it, and that we are as it were only shut out from the true universe, inhabiting a sort of vestibule or outward chamber of existence, where we must live by faith and not by sight. " Our Father, which art in heaven," is not addressed to God in some far distant star, for God is every where, and can reveal himself at any moment. THE DECALOGUE. 367 the excellent glory, — by God as the infinite and supreme Lord, verifying the person and the mission of the God-man, who was the true and only Mediator, the true and only Redeemer. Having thus endeavoured to estimate the Deca logue in its external relations, and to determine its position in the scheme of Revelation, we shall con sider for a moment what its internal character was, — what it meant. What was the Decalogue ? It was the Revelation of God in his personality, and the reduction to positive statute of the moral law which was befitting to a pure human nature, with the addition of a command to set apart one day in seven for the universal cessation of worldly labour. The Decalogue, then, naturally falls to be considered under three heads. It, first, answers the question, " Who is God ?" Second, it specifies the law which the moral intuitions absolutely approve, but which fallen man would never have discovered. And, third, it appoints a time of rest from worldly labour, thereby perpetually showing forth that the curse of earthly toil was graciously relaxed one day in seven. 1. First, then, the Decalogue reveals who is God. This question is insoluble to the reason. Reason, at the utmost, conducts us to the conclusion that there is a God, — a supreme and divine person ; but the knowledge of the fact that God is, differs essentially from the knowledge of the person who is 368 REVELATION. God. This is the difference. Reason assures us that God is ; but we cannot know whether God will deign to hold communication with us, — to instruct us, — to guide us, — to preserve us, otherwise than by the general laws which relate to organization, — to explain to us specifically his will, — to forgive our transgressions of his laws, — to aid the infirmities of our nature,— to reconcile us to himself,- — and to end that moral strife and intellectual doubt which is a portion of our inheritance. Reason is here power less. With reason -alone, we are on the dark side of the universe, shut out from God, — but knowing that there is a God from whom we are shut out. One word of Revelation solves the whole; a single word of communication from God cleaves the uni verse of knowledge to its very centre, and lays bare the immortal secret. "I am the Lord thy God" is no sooner spoken, than the realm of the cognisable is bathed in the ineffable light. That single sentence contains more knowledge than all the efforts of all the intellects that ever bent their powers to the study of philosophy. This, in fact, is the second condition, that Revela tion must fulfil. Without knowing who is God, we should be wanderers in the outward region, where all possible knowledge would be only a better kind of ignorance, — a knowledge that we did not know and could not know. We should not have specified the universe, but should only have specified the terms of the necessity under which we were to remain in ignorance; we should have specified our own intel- THE ABSOLUTE. 369 lectual incapacity, and attained, not to a knowledge of God, but to a knowledge of those limitations of our intellectual nature which would forbid the pos sibility of our attaining to the divine knowledge. All pretensions of knowing the Absolute, if by the Ab solute be meant God, are based on a phenomenon which is common to other pursuits as well as to philosophy. The poet has his inspiration, the de votee (in any religion) his rapture, the painter his one fair vision of absolute beauty, — which, as it were, has revealed itself from some other world; why, then, should we forbid to the philosopher his intel lectual ecstasy, which may proceed from the super- excitation of the rational faculty, just as the rapture of religious ecstasy proceeds from some super-excita tion of the devotional faculty even in a false religion ? But this philosophic ecstasy, which professes to reach the absolute, does nothing more than lead us to the centre of a circle. We may follow each radius in the pursuit of the centre, and we may possibly find the centre ; but the moment we have found it, it vanishes. It is nothing, — the centre has no dimension, and centre though it be, with positive relations to all around it, it is in itself nothing ; and the moment we arrive at it, all positive conception of substantive existence disappears. So it is with the philosophic conception of the absolute. Phenomena are the radii of knowledge, and we may pursue them till the sen sible dimension disappears. We then find the abso lute; but in finding it, we have found only the centre, that has no conceivable existence as a positive item, 2a 370 REVELATION. but which exists only in and through the positive relations that surround it on every side. We have arrived at the absolute nothing ; and so true is this, that one German school pretends to make a synthesis of this philosophy, and to develop the all out of the nothing, having reduced the all into the nothing. The whole theory of the scriptural Revelation pro- ceedsonthe prineipleof revealing a Person, not merely a fact. The Revelation is not " that there is," but " I AM." God does not confine himself to the announce ment that he is; but he makes known his name, his at tributes, and his purposes. It is a personal Revelation, beyond which we can conceive nothing in kind, al though there may be an indefinite increase in degree; it is absolute in quality, but it may go on inde finitely in quantity. It is, in fact, the Revelation of the true God; and God in making himself known, has solved the mystery of the universe, and left man not to exist in doubt, but to live in faith. 2. The Decalogue, again, contains the moral law. A moral law necessarily implies three things : — first, the moral Lawgiver ; second, the moral capa city of the creature owing obedience ; and, third, the law itself, or body of specific commandment which may be intelligently apprehended. Man, with his moral intuitions, has a capacity, — a capacity for understanding moral obligation, and for subjecting himself to moral command. His capacity is based upon intuitions which form a portion of his nature ; but these intuitions are only the vague pre- THE DECALOGUE. 371 parations for something which is objective to him self. They fix upon man general duties, or general principles of duty; and by very careful and impartial investigation, they might even originate some of the specific duties which are incumbent on the race. But the moral intuitions are totally insufficient, and they must find their objective correlative before they can come into that formal and consistent operation which constitutes the main end of existence. True, we may be told of man's moral capacity, and we may be called on to magnify human nature, — we may be told that man is a great and glorious being, because he is endowed with these intuitions, — we may be called on to laud the dignity of humanity, seeing that it is so separated from the animated creation that surrounds us. All this may be true ; but we must not forget that the very essence of moral nature supposes the specific law and the definite Lawgiver, — not merely the vague intuition, which impels us to acknowledge some law, whether it be correct or in correct. The moral scheme is only complete when the correlatives of the intuitions are discovered : and these correlatives constitute the body of truth ; where as the intuitions, at the utmost, only constitute the innate capacity for the reception of truth, when the truth is made known from some objective source. We shall here, then, consider the nature of this moral law which was revealed in the Decalogue ; and this will afford us the opportunity of illustrating the two distinct meanings of the term law. First, then, let us suppose that man was entirely 372 REVELATION. pure and innocent, that he had an entirely good na ture, and that he had lived in the world in the habitual expression of his native innocence. By an observation of what he did, and what he did not do, we should ar rive at an inductive law of his conduct, just as we arrive at the inductive laws which prevail in the physical universe. We should observe that he did not make graven images, nor worship them ; we should observe that he did not kill, did not steal, did not bear false witness, and did not covet any thing that was his neighbour's. All this we should observe ; and we should arrive at the inductive law, that idolatry, mur der, theft, false witness, and covetousness, were not the fit and becoming actions of a human being. But by mere observation alone we should never arrive at the principle that man ought not to murder and steal ; we might conclude that he ought not, but we should never certainly know that he ought not. We should only know certainly the fact that he did not ; and though we might have a high presumption that these actions were unbecoming, inasmuch as he constantly and invariably avoided them, we should never arrive at that specific certainty which accom panies the other meaning of the term law. We should only have the constantly recurring fact, — that is, the inductive form of law, — the generalised or uni- versalised occurrence. It is quite otherwise with the law which is ex pressed in distinct legislation. Legislation exhibits the imperative nature of the fact, whether the fact do or do not take place in actual reality. The fact THE DECALOGUE. 373 ought to take place ; and this is the sum and sub stance of moral command. Hence, when man was a fallen creature, he required to know the specific duties which it was incumbent on him to fulfil, and the specific crimes and sins which it was incumbent on him to avoid committing. He never would spon taneously exhibit the realization of law, except under the most erroneous and corrupted form. He would mistake that for a duty which was in reality a crime, and that for a crime which was in reality a duty ; he would fill the earth with error, cruelty, and violence, and would wander on in a constant scene of uncer tain wickedness, sinning and repenting, doubting and believing, — at one moment giving way to passion, at another to remorse, — at one moment believing the most frantic acts to be sacred duties, at another distrusting his judgment, and suffering under the agonies of his mingled emotions. He would be — like the world that he had made — a confusion, — a wretched wreck, storm-tossed on the tempestuous sea of passion in the dark night of consummate ignorance, without helm, without haven, and without hope. Such did the Decalogue find man, when once and for all it opened up to him the course he was to steer, shedding the rays of heavenly light across the dark waters of his existence, and guiding him, by divine illumination, through the disasters of his lost condition. We consider, then, the Decalogue as the permanent rule of life, graciously revealed by Almighty God for the purpose of instructing man in the law of right- 374 REVELATION. eousness. It was not given to justify man ; it could not save, but it clearly exhibited the things which man ought to do, and the things which man ought not to do. It was not abrogated by Christ, but ful filled by Christ. § 6. We have now (though we have left many things unsaid which might have found a fitting place at this portion of our dissertation — things on which we should desire to enlarge at some future time) — we have now to turn to the third occasion on which God spoke directly to man, without a mediator, in the plenitude of power, and with a command intended, not for any special person, but for the whole human race. We come to the injunction, " This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased ; hear him." This was the third grand Revelation from heaven, — the conclusion of the whole matter, so far as divine command went. " Hear him," was the final precept, — the winding up of that long scheme of preparative guidance which found its consummation in the in carnation of the Son of God. We have already said, that the three laws have a logical connection : for, in fact, Christ is called the second Adam ; and also, Christ came to fulfil the law — which may, perhaps, be here taken as signifying the whole body of law, thereby achieving a perfect righteousness of obedience. In Christ the law was perfectly satisfied, and by him alone was it ever satis fied ; so that we must look to the law on the one hand, and to Christ on the other, otherwise the christian truth. 375 Christian scheme is made unintelligible, or trans formed from a scheme of redemption into some vague and inconsistent scheme of moral teaching. To regard Christ as a moral teacher of duties, and merely as a moral teacher, is in fact to destroy, not only the Christology, but to destroy the whole scheme of biblical Revelation. If Christ were merely a moral teacher, the revelation, the record, the prophecy, the type, the symbol, the great allegory of the Abrahamic selection, the promised land, nay, the gospel itself, the apostolic epistle, and the apocalypse, sink into a vain and unintelligible confusion, without a single shred of probability to claim any man's belief, and without a single ray of hope to enlighten the dark vision of man's future destiny. As the whole scheme of biblical instruction hinges on the character of Christ, and the object of his in carnation, we shall state precisely what we conceive to be the teaching of the Bible on this subject : — 1. Christ is a divine person. 2. The Son of God. 3. Equal and one with the Father. 4. Claiming as his right the worship of man's soul. 5. He became incarnate. 6. And was born of the virgin Mary. 7. To justify and fulfil God's perfect law. 8. And to redeem his people by the sacrifice of himself. And here we come to the essential character of the great mass of the biblical scheme, namely, that it is Christology, and not merely Theology. 376 REVELATION. For man, in his present condition, a mere theo logy would be inoperative, inefficient. It could do nothing for us but exhibit the righteous grounds of our condemnation. It would enlighten us, but it would enlighten us only to render apparent the grounds of our absolute destruction. Not only should we be lost, but we should see that we were lost, and lost without the possibility of restoration. A theo logy — meaning thereby the exposition of the being and attributes of God, with the specification of his righteous law, and an exhibition of the relations which man bears to God — would be only a perfect demonstration that "all have sinned; for by the law is the knowledge of sin, and by the law shall no flesh be justified." Thus the biblical scheme is a theology for the exhibition of the divine perfections, for the enunciation of the perfect law, and for the condemnation of all who have broken the law, both through their actual transgression, and through the inheritance of disobedience which derives from the original transgression of our first parent. But the biblical scheme is not a theology for the purpose of enabling present man to work out a suc cessful probation. Man has already come short of the divine requirements, and is already under con demnation ; so that, in fact, his probation is past, and if he cannot find a sacrifice that will be accepted by God, all that theology can teach him will be only that his own righteousness never could be transformed into the means of justification. The great practical revelation, then, of the Bible, christian truth. 377 is the Christology, the Christian scheme of the incar nation and redemption, faintly announced to Adam, foreshadowed in the ceremonial law and in the history of the Hebrew people, prophetically antici pated by those ancient seers who were under divine influence and illumination, and realised in the ap pearance of the Son of God on the earth. This is not the theme of the Bible merely, it is the theme of the whole world's history. The progress of history has been co-ordinated in relation to this one master event, which is the central point of all history, of all religion, of all true philosophy, of all morals, of all hope for the future, and of all possible good. It is the essence of the world's present being, the origin and the end of the terrestrial dispensation, the Alpha and the Omega of all that relates to the world, and of all that interests man ; it is the one thing needful, the sum total of all necessary knowledge, and the Revelation, not merely of the ground of man's con demnation, but of the means by which man can be saved. It is emphatically the Revelation, — the Reve lation, not of a fact or of a law, but the Revelation of the Son of God himself; who, visiting the world for the purpose of redemption, has dispelled all doubts and made known the truth, — bringing man into a new relation to God, and exhibiting that wondrous plan by which man, once lost and fallen, may be perma nently restored to the divine family, and cleansed from the pollution of his sinful nature. We have now, therefore, to inquire into some of the prominent points of the Christology. 378 REVELATION. In the first place, we must consider that between the righteous God and the fallen creature there could be no other relation than that of judge and criminal. God, as lawgiver, must justify his law ; and man, having no possible means of fulfilling the law, must abide the consequences of his lost condition. With God as the lawgiver, man can have no hope ; for the law is the reason of man's condemnation, and it has no provision for any thing like forgiveness. Thus, then, the first main fact of the Christology is, that Christ is the incarnate God, — that he is the God-man, — that he is very God of very God, and yet the Son of the Virgin, — that he is the Mediator, the great High Priest of a new covenant ; — that he has the whole nature of man, so that he may bear our sorrows, understand our griefs, and represent his people ; and yet that he is God, who can save to the uttermost all who come to him by faith ; — and that, being God and being man, he is the second Adam, to fulfil the law perfectly ; and the divine Redeemer, who makes atonement for sin by a sacrifice which is infinitely acceptable. Thus, also, after the fall there could be nothing valid for man except a Christology. God as God was the judge, — man as man was the criminal; and no redemption could take place without a mediator and an atoning sacrifice. All that human nature could do was insufficient, and all that ceremonial observance could do was vain and useless. The plan, whatever it might be, must be divine, of divine origin, and of divine achievement. And this CHRISTIAN TRUTH. 379 wonder, this mystery, this glorious plan of redeem ing love, is carried out by the incarnation of Christ, who stands on earth as perfect man, and who sits upon the throne at the right hand of the Father as perfect God : God and man, — man and God, united into a mysterious personality, that satisfies every possible requirement of our nature, and shows us at once how God may be perfectly just, and yet the justifier of the chief of sinners. When, therefore, the voice from the excellent glory gives the command, " Hear him," we are not to anticipate a new law ; for Christ came to fulfil the law, and to develop that scheme by which the fallen nature of man might be supplied with a divine grace that should give man a new power of obedience. What is the end of human existence ? The perfect love of God and perfect obedience to his law. But fallen man can neither love nor obey ; and Christ comes, so to restore his people, by the renewal of their nature, that they may be brought to see the beauty of holiness, and to strive after an obedience of which they had no previous conception, and for which they had no previous capacity. In endeavouring, therefore, to extract the essential theory of the Christology, we shall find two things : first, that it is not in harmony with the original con stitution of man, and that it contradicts (or if that term be considered liable to objection, that it entirely surpasses and goes beyond) the natural reason of man : and, second, that it gives the promise of new and supernatural powers, — in fact, of 380 REVELATION. a divine power, to enable man to love the holiness which by nature he could not love ; and to enable him to strive after an obedience which, without the divine aid, would have been impossible. First, then, we have to consider the peculiar characteristic of Christianity, — that characteristic which separates it from every other system of morals or religion ever professed on the surface of the earth. In so doing, we shall find an entirely new philosophy of morals, and an entirely new philosophy of man, — a system which transcends all possible efforts of the human reason, and establishes the Christology on a pinnacle of its own, where it acknowledges no relationship to any other system save that which was the symbolic representative of itself, — its sha dow that had gone before. The peculiar characteristic of Christianity. The conception of merit and demerit is common to all mankind. All men have the idea of innocence and guilt, of right and wrong, of righteousness and unrighteousness. Whatever diversities of opinion there may be among different nations, or among different men, as to what particular acts are right or wrong, all accord in the one general principle, or general fact, that there is a something right and a something wrong, and that it is possible for men to be blameworthy or meritorious, innocent or guilty. On the universality of this conception is based all that is known as morals, and all that is known as religion ; and when it is said that " man is a moral being," all that is thereby meant is, that man has NATURAL MORALS. 381 the capacity of conceiving his voluntary actions to be right or wrong, and himself in a condition of in nocence or guilt. Co-extensive with this conception of right and wrong, is the conception of the mode by which men naturally judge of merit and demerit. They judge, universally, that merit or demerit is inherent in the individual, according to the character of his thoughts, his feelings, and his actions. If the thoughts, the feelings, and the actions of a man, are what any man, or any nation, judges to be right ; then, in the esti mation of that man, or that nation, is he considered meritorious : and if his thoughts, his feelings, and his actions, are judged to be wrong ; then he himself is considered to be blameworthy or guilty. This mode of pronouncing judgment on the char acter of an individual appears to form part of the original constitution of the human mind. It is underived, primary, and universal. It may be ob served in the earliest dawn of mind that breaks forth in the infant, and it may be traced, in unal loyed consistency, through every system of morals that has emanated from the mind of man ; so per fectly intuitive does this mode of judgment appear, that no other mode seems ever to have suggested itself to the human mind. All that men think, all that men say, and all that men have written, on the subject of morals, is based on the principle that a man is meritorious or blameworthy, innocent or guilty, according to what he himself is and does, is not and does not. In every age and in every nation 382 REVELATION. a man's own character has been made the measure of his righteousness ; neither does it seem possible that the human mind could ever have originated any other principle on which to pronounce its judgment. The infant and the aged man, the most unlettered barbarian and the most profound philosopher, have agreed, in the most perfect unanimity of judgment, that the man whose own character and actions are good, is the man who is meritorious ; and that the man whose own character and actions are bad, is the man who is blameworthy and guilty. Where justice and benevolence are held to be virtues, there also is the just and benevolent man held to be meritorious ; and where the slaughter of the unbeliever is viewed as the highest duty, there also is the blood-stained warrior deemed worthy of the highest praise and the highest reward. What ever judgment may be passed upon the action, the same judgment is pronounced on the man who, knowingly and wittingly, performs the action ; and praise or blame is accorded exclusively on the prin ciple, that the man who acts righteously is righteous, and that the man who acts unrighteously is un righteous. Let us now conceive another principle. Let us suppose some one to advance, that a man is righteous, not on account of what he himself 'does, but on account of what is done by another, — that a man is not reckoned righteous on account of the goodness of his own actions, but reckoned righteous because the ac tions of another are good. CHRISTIAN TRUTH. 383 Could the human mind conceive such a principle? Is it not absolute foolishness ? ' Is it not altogether incomprehensible ? When did the coldest abstrac tion of the speculatist, or the wildest dream of the fanatic, ever invent so strange a thought — so vain, so idle a supposition ? And still more strange, — it is true. For, "as by the offence of one judgment came upon all men to condemnation ; even so by the righteousness of one the free gift came upon all men unto justification of life." "For as by one man's disobedience many were made sinners, so by the obedience of one shall many be made righteous." — (Rom. v.) This, then, is the distinguishing characteristic of Christianity, — the character by which it is entirely separated from every other system of religion, and from every theory of morals that has emanated from, or been excogitated by, the human intelligence : and though in sacrificial rites the Christian may perceive a faint emblem of the truth, the unenlightened Jew or Pagan, who offered a sacrifice for sin, judged not differently from other men as to the character of human righteousness ; for he deemed the offering of a sacrifice a right action, and the man who made the offering meritorious, on account of having done so. This Christian truth is emphatically foolishness to the philosophic moralist, and a stumbling-block to the pharisaical professor of se^f-righteousness. It is folly when brought in contact with the natural principle by which men universally judge of merit or praiseworthiness ; and it must ever remain an 384 REVELATION. obstacle and a stumbling-block to those who are intent on raising a righteousness of their own, based on the meritorious performance of any duties whatever. The scheme of righteousness contained in Christian doctrine must necessarily have been a matter of Revelation, authenticated and supported by the evi dence of miracles. It must have been revealed, be cause it surpasses every thing that men naturally conceive on the subject of righteousness ; and it must have been supported by miracles, because, without the authentication of miraculous evidence, none would have been assured of the truth of a principle so diametrically opposed to every other system of human credence. Vicarious righteousness, or righteousness through another, could never have originated in the human mind, and never could have been believed had it not been supported by super natural evidence, which, when fairly examined, left no possible room for doubt, Christianity alone furnishes an answer to the ques tion, " How shall a man be just before God?" And the answer is of infinite importance : " The just shall live by his faith." " Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved." This gives to man a righteousness which is not of his own procuring, one which depends not on him self, but on the Lord Jesus Christ ; and no man can be a Christian (that is, a follower of Christ) until he entirely abandons the natural scheme of self- righteousness, and unreservedly accepts the super- THE HISTORIC FACTS. 385 natural scheme of vicarious righteousness set before him in the gospel. And who is the Lord Jesus Christ ? This question may be answered from two sources : first, from systems of theology, written by unin spired men ; or from the Scriptures, written by men under the immediate inspiration of God, In the former, the Saviour is regarded speculatively ; in the latter, the Saviour is presented historically. We prefer, on this occasion, to take the historical account of the Messiah. These, then, are the historical facts : — About eighteen hundred years ago, in the time of Augustus Csesar, there appeared in Palestine (Judea, &c.) a person who was the son of a virgin. He had all the attributes of man, with one exception, — no error could be detected either in his words or in his actions. In worldly circumstances his lot was one of poverty and obscurity, for he was dependent for his daily food and shelter on the kindness of his friends. Of his early history we have little information, ex cept that his birth was ushered in by prophetic announcement, and that, while still an infant, he was regarded as a holy person by some who had received divine intimation of his extraordinary dignity. Thus, when his mother carried him to the Temple, to offer the sacrifice appointed in the Jewish law at the birth of every male child, Simeon, a just and devout man, who was waiting for the consolation of Israel, and to whom it was revealed by the Holy Ghost that he should not see death till he had seen the Lord's 2.B 386 REVELATION. Anointed, took the child in his arms and blessed God, and said, " Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, according to thy word: for mine eyes have seen thy salvation, which thou hast pre pared before the face of all people ; a light to lighten the Gentiles, and the glory of thy people Israel." This, with the general intimation, that the child grew and waxed strong in spirit, that he was filled with wisdom, and that the grace of God was upon him, forms nearly the whole of our information as to the early years of the person — Jesus, who was called the Anointed. The history of what Jesus said and did commences only from the time when he began to be about thirty years of age; and by general admission he stands out from all other persons mentioned in history, as not coming within the limits of comparison. The sublimity of his doctrine, the purity of his life, and the perfect nature of his character, distinguish him as knowing more than man can naturally know, and as being more than man can naturally be. But to these he superadded an unlimited power of working miracles, and an unlimited knowledge of the thoughts that were passing in the hearts of men. When thirty years of age, he began to teach his countrymen the true character of God, the true character of man, and the true destiny that awaited the human race. And to authenticate the divine ori gin of his teaching, he wrought a multitude of mira cles, — opening the eyes of the blind, making the deaf to hear, the dumb to speak, the lame to walk, THE HISTORIC FACTS. 387 and even raising the dead from the grave; shadowing forth, in the supernatural power he exercised over the physical frailties and corruptions of mankind, that spiritual power which he was also able and willing to exert over their spiritual frailties, spiritual corrup tions, and spiritual death. His life was an unceasing progress of benevolence and kindness, of the most tender sympathy for the afflicted, and of the most efficient aid for those who sought his help. None came to him in vain, — none was sent empty away. It may well be supposed that the account this person gave of himself could not fail to be deeply interesting, but it rises into inestimable importance when we find him declaring, that he, — a man in all outward appearance, eating as a man, drinking as a man, slseping as a man, walking with his friends, dis coursing with them, and manifesting all the attributes of humanity save sin, — that he, Jesus, was the Son of God, and that whosoever should believe on him should not perish, but have everlasting life. Among the many extraordinary circumstances that attended the eventful life of Jesus, not the least ex traordinary were his predictions as to the character of his death, and the purpose for which he was to die. He taught that he should die, — not in the common course of nature,— not from the ordinary necessity that brings human beings to the grave, — but that he should lay down his life of himself, for the salvation of his people. And for the propagation of this doctrine, on which alone must be rested all man's reasonable hope of a future glorious immortality, he selected 388 REVELATION. a certain number of men, who were to carry its glad tidings unto all nations, and tribes, and people ; and to declare free remission of sin, and perfect righte ousness, for all who should truly believe. The scheme of Christian righteousness could not be so completely unveiled to the human apprehen sion until after the death of Jesus; and thus the teaching of this great doctrine was more full and explicit after that stupendous event. In the writings (commonly called the Gospels) of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, we have an account of the life and teaching of the Lord Jesus himself ; and in the Acts of the Apostles, we have an account of the life and teaching of some of those who had been selected to propagate the glad tidings. In the Epistles, we have the written instructions of the inspired servants of Christ ; and in the Apocalypse, we have the revela tion of the future coming of Jesus, — of his divine glory, — of the immortal bliss and perfect happiness of those who have taken him for their righteousness. A brief summary of -Christian doctrine is con tained in the 9th chapter of the Epistle to the He brews : " But now once, in the end of the world, hath Christ appeared, to put away sin by the sacrifice of himself. And as it is appointed unto men once to die, but after this the judgment ; so Christ was once offered to bear the sins of many: and unto them that look for him shall he appear the second time, without sin, unto salvation." The question now arises, "Whence comes it that so great a discrepancy exists between the natural THE THEORY OF MORALS. 389 or intuitive judgment of mankind, and the truth re vealed by the Lord Jesus Christ ? " To suppose the natural and intuitive judgment of mankind to be altogether erroneous, and always to have been erroneous, would be contrary to the suppo sition that God constituted the human mind in ac cordance with the circumstances in which; man was placed at his creation ; and would also be contrary to the very Revelation that now teaches us the false hood of every principle that would make righteous ness to consist in obedience to any law whatever. In every man's mind there is naturally implanted the abstract principle, " That the man who perfectly obeys right law is righteous, and that the man who disobeys right law is unrighteous;" and this prin ciple is held by the human mind to be necessarily and universally true. This principle, however, is abstract ; that is, it pronounces not on a particular? fact that is, but on a general fact that must be, pro vided the premises are actually real. It states, " If there be a right law, and if there be a man who per fectly obeys that right law, then the necessary and universal consequence is, that the man who' so obeys is righteous*" And the contradiction between the natural scheme of righteousness, and the scheme re vealed in the gospel, does not affect the conclusion, but depends on the non-reality of one of the pre mises. The conclusion is valid, under all circum stances, — that is, it flows necessarily from the premises, but Revelation steps in with the fact, that no man, no woman,, from the commencement of time to 390 REVELATION. the present day, has perfectly obeyed right law ; and that, therefore, no human being is, or ever has been, righteous through obedience to law. The abstract principle is correct, but its non-applicability to man is universal ; and if man be righteous at all, it must be through some other means than that of obedience. In the original condition of man's creation, right eousness would have been by obedience, and the constitution of the human mind was regulated ac cording to that condition. But in the present cir cumstances of man, there is an accidental condition that overturns every application which might be made of a principle originally true and applicable ; for no man is obedient, — and, consequently, no man is righteous through obedience. " But now the righteousness of God without the law is manifested, being witnessed by the law and the prophets; even the righteousness of God which is by faith of Jesus Christ unto all and upon all them that believe; for there is no difference: for all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God ; being justified freely by his grace, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus; whom God hath set forth to be a propitiation through faith in his blood, to declare his righteousness for the remission of sins that are past." Having thus endeavoured to point out the pecu liar characteristic of Christianity, — that which se parates it from every thing that could be excogitated by the reason, when the reason takes what may be termed the merely scientific and philosophical view FAITH. 391 of the universe, — we have now to inquire into the character of the Christian doctrine itself. The great question is, — " How shall a man be just before God?" And this question the Christology answers in the most precise and unhesitating manner. We shall now, therefore, consider the Christian doctrine (or teaching), as to the method by which the merits of the Lord Jesus Christ are made avail able to man ; and also inquire what is necessary on man's part, before he can be discharged from the condemnation which has already been declared on every man and woman on account of sin : " He that believeth on him is not condemned; but he that believeth not is condemned already, because he hath not believed in the name of the only-begotten Son of God." — (John iii. 18.) We have, therefore, to treat, not of any possible scheme of human righteousness, • but of that divine scheme of which God is the author. This, then, is — JUSTIFICATION BY FAITH. The Greek word wleng (pistis), which is rendered faith in the English version of the New Testament, occurs very frequently in those writings, — about 244 times altogether. In Acts xvii. 31, it is rendered assurance ; in 2 Thess. ii. 13, it is rendered belief; and in Tit. ii. 10, it is rendered fidelity. In all the other passages, amounting to 241, if we mistake not, it is translated faith. It will be observed, that faith is a noun substantive, and that language can express 392 REVELATION. the action as well as the object; and this it does by a verb. The verb mersiu (pistuo) is the word made use of in the New Testament, to signify faith operating ; and this word is translated believe. It occurs even more frequently than faith ; and the two taken to gether form the most prominent subject of the Chris tian writings. In the New Testament it is clearly and specifi cally declared, that man's salvation depends on faith, or believing ; — that is, that if a man believe, he shall be saved ; and if he believe not, he shall be condemned. We shall hereafter quote certain texts or portions of the sacred writings, in which it is distinctly taught that man is justified by faith ; but it must be remem bered that the doctrine does not depend merely on those passages that announce it directly in words, but also, and very particularly, on the whole mass of revealed truth contained in the Scriptures. Just as we do not judge whether the rain that descends on the earth is beneficial to the vegetable creation, merely by observing one or two drops of its water, and fol lowing them through their transformations until they are absorbed by a plant ; but also, and more particu larly, by observing the general effects that follow the genial showers, when we behold the fields renewing their greenness and their vigour, and see the whole face of nature refreshed by the moisture, and every plant growing and expanding with a new and vigor ous life. And so it is with Scripture ; we are not confined to the letter of one or two passages, which CONSISTENCY OF SCRIPTURE. 393 may directly teach us a- truth in the most plain and convincing terms; but we may also look at the truth as it stands connected with the great body of Reve lation, and thus place it on a broad and stable basis, from which it cannot be removed. We may study how the whole scheme of Revelation works together, — how part illustrates part, — how the related events are only teachings of the very same doctrines by actions instead of words, — how all, in fact, that Scripture teaches, is only a reproduction of one and the same truth under different forms and at differ ent stages, — and how all that is taught circles around Christ, who is the centre of the whole seheme, from the gate of Eden to the day of judgment. The Reve lation, in fact, is the- Revelation of The Christ, — the manifestation of the Son of God. Truth may be taken to pieces and studied in portions, but the Reve lation of Christ is one Revelation, on which the whole scheme of history is constructed, and on which God rules the whole destinies of the world for the final triumph of the church, and for the glorious time when Christ's kingdom shall be established on earth, as we anticipate from prophecy. We state, then, that some of the most important truths revealed in Scripture depend not merely on those passages in which they are announced directly in words, but also on their connection with the great body of scriptural truth, revealed and developed by many different men in different ages of the world, as they were moved and instructed by the Spirit of God. If we take,, for example, the scriptural teaching of our 394 REVELATION. Saviour's atonement, we should certainly be far from pursuing the course most likely to end in our right apprehension of the truth, were we to adhere to those texts alone that directly and plainly announce that the Lord Jesus made an atonement for mankind. It is true, that even in the letter of instruction there is suffi cient to establish the fact indubitably, that Jesus who was crucified, died not for himself, but for sinful man. But the mighty event is found not merely in those passages that directly declare it in words, but in the whole united body of scriptural truth, which is spread over many centuries ; and in the historical accounts of God's ancient people it is reiterated in almost every possible form. It is darkly hinted in the first promise made to fallen man, and from that very moment it is shadowed forth in almost every page of Scripture, with constantly increasing distinctness. Why was there an Isaac led to Mount Moriah, or a Joseph carried captive into Egypt ? why was there a bondage and a better land ? a Joshua, a Samson, or a David ? why was there a sacrifice and a high priest, a fiery serpent and a brazen image? nay, why was there a chosen people, with the law and the covenant, with the prophet, the priest, and the king? why but that the salvation which is by Jesus Christ might be made so plain to men, that they should be without excuse if they rejected the Messiah ? The atonement on the cross, with the consequent salvation of the believer, is the very foundation of all Scripture, without which there could be no true religion. The law and the prophets, the people of Israel and the FAITH. 395 land of Canaan, are but portions of God's great teaching, that in due time his well-beloved Son should appear, to " bear the sin of many," and to " make intercession for the transgressors." And so it is with man's justification by faith. This truth depends not merely on those passages which distinctly announce it in words, but on the whole body of Scripture, as one Revelation, — all the parts of which were fitted and intended to instruct man in those truths which could be made effectual to the salvation of his soul. The death and resur rection of the Lord Jesus is the fact oi the Christian religion; and justification by faith is the doctrine of the Christian religion, — and as such, it is taught in many different ways, and by many different figures, from the beginning of the Bible to the end of it. As the fact of Christ suffering for man pervades the cere monial law and the prophecies, so does the doctrine of justification through faith, and not through obe dience, as the one great doctrine which the Bible was intended to teach, — which is, in fact, the great practical end for which the Bible itself was bestowed upon mankind. It is true, that the doctrine does not appear on the surface of the Old Testament with so palpable a distinctness as the death of the Messiah : but this partial obscurity vanishes, in a great measure, when we apply the key of the New Testament to unlock the treasures of the Old ; and when we go from the apostle's teaching of the doctrine, back to the history of God's chosen people, and compare his inspired assertion of the truth with the foreshadow- 396 REVELATION. ing events that might, and no doubt did, bring the truth home with peace and consolation to the heart of the pious believer, we can have no hesitation in affirming, that justification by faith is the one great doctrine of the Old Testament, as much as it is the one great doctrine of the New. The question is not so much, how plainly the doctrine is taught, but how universally and exclusively it is taught ; and we main tain, that from the promise of the Seed that should "bruise the head of the serpent," down to the "Unto you that fear my name shall the Sun of righteous ness arise with healing in his wings," of the last chapter of Malachi, there is no other doctrine what ever taught in Scripture as to the means of man's acceptance with God, except that the believer is gra ciously accepted, and the unbeliever rejected. It may seem that obedience is very often, and, indeed, most often, made the test of judgment ; but this arises from a misunderstanding as to what was the law. The law of the ten commandments was the pure law, which if any man had always perfectly obeyed, it would have been reckoned to him of debt, and he would have been justified by his obedience. No other law was known in the same character, no other law could justify ; and yet we find that obedi ence is reckoned the test of Saul's rejection and of David's acceptance. Now, if we consider for a mo ment, we shall find that this test is never applied, on no occasion whatever, — as meaning obedience to the Decalogue (the only law that could justify), but as obedience to some other commands given at various FAITH. 397 times by the Almighty. What, then, was this obe dience ? It was nothing more than the sign or mark of faith; just as the Christian's works do not justify him, but they are evidences of the faith that does justify. And thus we often find the works, which are the fruit and the evidence, put for the principle of faith from which they flow ; — a mode of expression which will not suit systematic theology, but which is scriptural, and therefore perfectly good and cor rect for the great practical purposes of religious instruction. In Scripture, then, we have two methods of in struction: the first, by direct declaration in words; and the second, by the record or history of those great events which God selected for the purpose of teach ing the same truths. That a man is justified by faith, and not by works, is taught by the first method, clearly, distinctly, and indisputably. But what we also wish to impress upon the reader is, that the same truth is taught in every part of Scripture that teaches how man can be saved ; and to come at once to the great example set forth in illustration of the coming judgment, we take the case of Noah and the deluge. In the 6 th chapter of Genesis, we are informed that God purposed to destroy man from the face of the earth ; but that he would establish his covenant with Noah, who was a righteous man, and would save him, with his sons, his wife, and his sons' wives. God commanded Noah to make an ark of gopher- wood, which should be the means of his safety while 398 REVELATION. the waters were on the face of the earth. Noah obeyed the command, — constructed the ark, entered it with his family, and was saved. We might here, perhaps, suppose that Noah was saved by his obedi ence, (and, in one sense, that is true,) but let us in quire at the inspired apostle for his explanation of the event : Heb. xi. 7, " By faith Noah, being warned of God of things not seen as yet, moved with fear, prepared an ark to the saving of his house ; by the which he condemned the world, and became heir of the righteousness which is by faith." This example is entitled to especial attention, from the circumstance of the deluge being the very type selected to figure forth the judgment to come. Let us turn for a moment to the circumstances of the case. Scripture declares that there is a day coming which God hath set apart for the judgment of the world ; that men are naturally sinful ; and that no man can naturally stand justified in the sight of God. Scripture also declares that there is a supernatural means of safety provided, in the righteousness of the Lord Jesus Christ, who offered himself a propitiation for our sins. Scripture also declares, that whosoever believes in the Lord Jesus Christ shall be saved, and that whosoever believes not shall be condemned. The circumstances here are, the spiritual and final salvation or condemnation of the members of the human race. The truths regarding these events are taught in words, — plainly, clearly, and without mys tery. But is this all? Far from it; the truths of religion that are the most necessary for man to know, have FAITH. 399 been taught and illustrated in a series of events, the most stupendous in the world's history. God's method of teaching is not confined to words; and the spiritual judgment of mankind has been exhibited before the eyes of the world, in the record of the greatest event affecting external nature that has oc curred since the appearance of the human family on the surface of the earth. To shadow forth the judgment of the spirit, and to strike the callous heart of man with awe, — to awaken in the blinded sinner, if it were possible, some salutary fear oi future death, — to press upon all mankind the necessity of fleeing from the coming wrath to the spiritual Ark of safety, and to convince men that judgment was a serious reality, and not an idle dream, — a world was drowned; a race of human beings, rich in all the attributes of reason and of life, — rich in the endowments they had received from the Creator, — rich in the world's fair inheritance, with its mountain, its forest, and its field, its morning and its evening, its seed-time and its harvest, its sun-shine and its shade, its azure sky and its waters teeming with life, — rich in their length of years, rich in beauty, rich in manly strength, — this race, with all its world of intellect, of heart, and of affection, was drowned in one general destruction, all save eight persons, who were saved by faith. Again, Scripture teaches us, that in addition to the coming judgment and the coming condemnation of the unbeliever, there is a heaven, an everlasting abode of peace prepared for the believer ; and this 400 REVELATION. heaven, or spiritual land of promise, was foreshadowed by a natural country, which was promised to Abra ham and his seed : Gen. xii,, " Now the Lord had said unto Abram, Get thee out of thy country, and from thy kindred, and from thy father's house, unto a land that I will show thee. So Abram de parted, as the Lord had spoken unto him ; and Lot went with him : and into the land of Canaan they came. And the Lord appeared unto Abram, and said, Unto thy seed will I give this land." Now Abram was old and childless, and every natural reason and probability was against the occurrence of those events which the Lord had promised : " After these things the word of the Lord came unto Abram in a vision, saying, Fear not, Abram : I am thy shield, and thy exceeding great reward. And Abram said, Lord God, what wilt thou give me, seeing I go childless, and the steward of my house is this Eliezer of Damascus. And Abram said, Behold, to me thou hast given no seed : and, lo, one born in my house is mine heir. And, behold, the word of the Lord came unto him, saying, This shall not be thine heir ; but he that shall come forth out of thine own bowels shall be thine heir. And he brought him forth abroad, and said, Look now toward heaven, and tell the stars, if thou be able to number them. And he said unto him, So shall thy seed be. And he believed in the Lord ; and he counted it to him for righteousness." Let us now turn to Paul's teaching, and observe the uniformity of the sacred writers as to the method of justification, — remembering that a period of 1500 FAITH. 401 years had elapsed between the writing of the Book of Genesis and the writing of the Epistle to the Romans ; and that, during that long interval, many new revelations had been made to man, — many cere monial rites instituted, for the purpose of teaching religious truth, — many prophets and preachers of righteousness sent to instruct the people of God ; and that, finally, Emmanuel had appeared to fulfil the law and the prophets, — had taught divine truth, not as the Scribes and Pharisees, but as having au thority in himself, — and had sealed the scheme of promised redemption by the shedding of his blood. All which circumstances must necessarily have altered the scheme of religious doctrine, had any such alter ation been contemplated or intended: Rom. iv. 13, " For the promise, that he should be the heir of the world, was not to Abraham, or to his seed, through the law, but through the righteousness of faith. Ver. 20, " He staggered not at the promise of God through unbelief; but was strong in faith, giving glory to God ; and being fully persuaded, that what he had promised, he was able also to perform. And therefore it was imputed to him for righteousness. Now, it was not written for his sake alone, that it was imputed to him ; but for us also, to whom it shall be imputed, if we believe on him that raised up Jesus our Lord from the dead; who was delivered for our offences, and was raised again for our justification." Now, if we ask what are the two great salient points of human salvation, we may state these as, — first, deliverance from the condemnation of sin ; and, 2 c 402 REVELATION. second, adoption into the family of God, which shall bring with it the purification of the spirit, and ulti mate translation to heaven. [We speak here, not in the language of systematic theology, but merely as pointing out the great char acteristics of the Christian doctrine, not for the pur pose of evangelization, but for the purpose of argu ment.] The first of these was figured in Noah and the flood ; the second was figured in the seed of Abra ham, and the promised land. To show forth the condemnation of sin, and the destruction to which sin necessarily leads, a world was drowned. To show forth the promised heaven that awaits the people of God, a distant country was selected, and promised to a nation. That nation was led through many miraculous and wonderful scenes, designed not merely to teach them, but to teach us and all mankind, the true character of practical religion, and of religious doctrine. The first event we have considered in its scriptural explanation, and have shown that Scrip ture declares that Noah was saved by faith. The second we have also considered, and have shown that Scripture declares that Abraham inherited the pro mised land by faith. Now, these two include all things relating to the ultimate destiny of man ; and we therefore hold it to be the universal and exclu sive doctrine of all Scripture, — whether of ancient times, before the coming of the Messiah, or of the apostolic times, when the Messiah had appeared and completed the work of human redemption, — that man FAITH. 403 is justified by faith, and by faith alone; that no works of meritorious obedience which man has it in his power to perform, are of the slightest avail, as being the ground of man's acceptance with God, — that all such works, viewed as means of acceptance, are "as filthy rags:" but that God does accept the believer through his faith in the atonement, right eousness, and person, of the Lord Jesus Christ, — the Lamb of God, who taketh away the sin of the world. Having thus given an outline of the universality with which the doctrine of justification by faith is taught in Scripture, a few special passages may be adduced, in which it is taught plainly in words : — Gen. xv. 6, " And he believed in the Lord ; and he counted it to him for righteousness." Isa. lvii. 12, "I will declare thy righteousness, and thy works ; for they shall not profit thee." Jer. xxxiii. 16, " And this is the name wherewith she " (Judah, Jerusalem, the people of God, the church) " shall be called, The Lord our Righteous ness." 1 Cor. i. 30, " But of him are ye in Christ Jesus, who of God is made unto us wisdom, and righteous ness, and sanctification, and redemption. Hab. ii. 4, " The just shall live by his faith." John iii. 36, " He that believeth on the Son hath everlasting life : and he that believeth not the Son shall not see life ; but the wrath of God abideth on him." Mark xvi. 16, " He that believeth, and is baptized, 404 REVELATION. shall be saved ; but he that believeth not shall be damned." (Condemned. — -The Greek word occurs nineteen times in the New Testament, and is always rendered "condemned," except in this passage and Rom. xiv. 23.) John iii. 14-16, "And as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of man be lifted up ; that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have eternal life. For God so loved the world, that he gave his only-begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life." Ver. 18, " He that believeth on him is not con demned : but he that believeth not is condemned already, because he hath not believed in the name of the only-begotten Son of God." John xi. 26, "Whosoever liveth, and believeth in me, shall never die." Heb. x, 39, " But we are not of them who draw back unto perdition ; but of them that believe to the saving of the soul." The 11th chapter of the Hebrews, compared with Old Testament history; and 1 Peter i. 5, 9, &c. Mark v. 36, "Be not afraid, only believe." THE PRACTICAL CONCLUSION. Having thus pointed out the cardinal fact and the cardinal doctrine of the Christian Revelation, we have to estimate the general philosophy of man under the Christian system. THE PROBLEM OF HUMAN LIFE. 405 What is the knowledge to which man attains even under the instruction of the Christology ? It is a solution, not of the problem of the universe, but a solution of the problem of human life. This is its end and purpose; and only by viewing it in this aspect, can we attain to a systematic understanding of the light which Revelation throws on the pheno menon of human existence. Human life is divided into two embranchments ; the external, objective, and scientific, where the lo gical reason is employed to acquire truth progres sively ; and the internal, moral, and spiritual, where the logical reason does not progressively acquire truth. The first embranchment includes every division of knowledge that can be mastered or achieved by the spontaneous and reflective operation of the human intellect. Its region is science, and that philosophy which may be constructed by the criticism of science. It embraces also the arts, whether imitative, crea tive, or scientific. It has this world for a field of operation ; and it proceeds by the method of analysis, synthesis, and analogy. Its method is duplex ; and in the duplexity of method may be found the key to that grand antagonism which has manifested itself as a constant phenomenon of philosophy, and which expresses itself to the popular mind as the antagon ism between the inductive and the deductive methods. Aristotle is conventionally accepted as the apostle of one method, Bacon of the other; but this clumsy classification is only of value to mark the difference 406 REVELATION. which is an inherent and radical intuition of the human intellect itself, — Aristotle and Bacon being only the received representatives of methods which are as old as humanity, and which depend upon the possibility of two different starting-points. These two methods may be termed, the method by which we make an analysis and synthesis of thought as thought (Aristotle), and the method by which we make an analysis and synthesis of nature as nature (Bacon) ; — to which must be added Bacon's correla tive, namely, Descartes, who treated thought as a con crete reality, and applied the same method to thought that Bacon applied to external nature. The course of history, of knowledge, of life, and, indeed, of the whole progressive phenomenon of human development, is always at one and the same time duplex, — both Aristotelian and Baconian. Hence history contains within it two courses, which may be termed the course of logic and the course of reality; the one beginning with an ultimate abstrac tion of thought, and pursuing it to the point of realization; the other, beginning with the real world, and pursuing it to the ultimate abstraction. Hence the world of intellect will — unless man be destined to arrive at the point of unity — always present two great intellectual sects, who imagine that they are opposed to each other, but who, in fact, are only pursuing each its own limited and partial course. Natural theology being a portion of natural know ledge, will, consequently, present itself in two forms; namely, that which proceeds on the analysis and THE TWO WORLDS. 407 synthesis of thought, — which is the a priori argument, represented by Samuel Clarke ; and that which pro ceeds on the analysis and synthesis of nature, popu larly represented by Paley. To these may be added the argument of analogy (a method strictly scientific also, and actually employed in the physical sciences, chemistry, for instance), represented by Butler. The composite argument, if properly achieved, would represent one of the mixed sciences, where mathematics combine with observation. It would be a true progress in the course of theological argument; just as any science has made a real progress when it becomes susceptible of mathematical deduction. In this region and in this embranchment of life, man is progressive. He has more knowledge to-day than he had yesterday. Truth is acquired, arts are developed, and the course of humanity shows an increment of knowledge to which chronological dates can be assigned. Man, in his outward life, is essen tially a progressive creature; and is thereby distin guished from the constructing animals which do not progress. It is a character of man, that he can and does progress ; but we must not confound this indu bitable fact with any supposition that the race began in a state of savage wildness, and achieved civiliza tion, — a vain and foolish surmise, which has not a single fact to depend on. But what is the other embranchment of human life? Is it also progressive by means of analysis, synthesis, and analogy ; or is it, on the contrary, a permanent course of stable truth, life, action, ex- 40S REVELATION. perience, — the same to-day that it was a thousand years since ? That man has in his soul a mental, moral, and spiritual life, distinguished from the acquisition of his intellect, is a truth which it is needless to discuss, as the fact is the theme of every moral writer. But the question is, Is man progressive in this life ? Does the experience of former generations descend to the present generation, as in science ? Do we know more of this region on account of any experiences of other men, however accurately described ? Of course, we admit a successive and progressive Revelation ; but this fact has nothing to do with our present question, which is, Was Abraham's know ledge of spiritual life capable of being transmitted to his descendants, in the same manner as his knowledge of nature1? Or was Paul's knowledge capable of being transmitted to the early Christians, in the same manner as Aristotle's logical doctrine, and could any subsequent Christian improve on Paul's doctrine, as subsequent logicians might improve on some por tions of Aristotle ? Science, we know, has made immense progress since the days of the Greeks; who, however, laid its foundations, through Aristotle, Eu clid, and Archimedes : and scientific men have now more knowledge than the Greeks had, and we can apply their knowledge and go beyond it. But, since the promulgation of Christian truth, has any man ever had more knowledge than the apostles ? mean ing hereby not that verbal knowledge which may be learnt by rote, but that actual perception of spiritual PROGRESSIVE KNOWLEDGE. 409 truth which was present with the apostle Paul when he wrote his epistles. We say, without hesitation, that Newton saw farther into nature than Aristotle did, and that Laplace saw farther than Newton, and that Lavoisier saw farther than any Greek, and that Liebig sees farther than Lavoisier ; and that, in all probability, there will soon arise men who will see farther than any past or present man. They are not greater men ; — for Socrates, the doubter, questioner, and moralist, — Plato, the comprehensive genius, — Aristotle, the analytic genius, — and Archimedes, the founder of positive science, — are the representative men of the world of intellect. We expect no greater; for, in fact, in the circumstances, we can scarcely conceive that they were as great as they were. But still, modern men have known more, and do know more. In a modern cotton factory Archi medes would be a child in knowledge, though a giant in thought. Knowledge progresses, but man does not progress, — he only fills up with realities the categories of his intellect ; and the greatest genius is the man who has most capacity ; while the man who has most knowledge is the man who has most mate rial filled into his capacity. But, while we admit that science has progressed, has the knowledge of religion progressed, since the days of the apostles ? Is it not rather that men fell away from the truth, and that every effort of modern man has only been to re-approach, or to return to, that very same truth that Paul announced. In theology, — that is, in natural, scientific, or philosophi- 410 REVELATION. cal theology, — we look forward, knowing that every new acquisition of man will give him a more certain ground of scientific faith ; but in religion, in the spiritual life and doctrine, in the elements of our faith, and the complete exemplification of the radical truth of humanity, we ever look backward, even for the assurance of the coming of Him who shall come "a second time unto salvation." In this spiritual life of man, we must, however, separate between those mysticisms which pretend that man may have a personal and individual com munication with God (in the way of personal reve lation), and the Christian system, which teaches that God enlightens the human mind by the Holy Spirit, through the teaching of the Word. That the Spirit of God teaches man, is a doctrine so plainly expressed in Scripture, that it stands next to the doctrines we have adduced; but the great element of diverse opinion, in this department, is, that man may be instructed by God directly, or may be instructed through the Scriptures. In the former case, we should emancipate man from every rule of ecclesiastical order or discipline, and establish each individual Christian as, in fact, a prophet, under special inspiration ; in the latter case, we preserve the outward ordinances of religion, the validity of church discipline, the construction of the church, the appointment of officers, teachers, administrators, and courts of the church, and, in fact, an ecclesiastical economy, founded on the Scriptures themselves. Now, if any doctrine be taught in Scripture with SUPREMACY OF SCRIPTURE. 411 absolute and unswerving consistency, (and, notwith standing all the objections that have been brought against the Bible, the consistency of Scripture is one of its most striking peculiarities,) it is the supremacy of the revealed will of God over every effort of the human imagination, and over every dictate of the individual consciousness. This doctrine — namely, the absolute supremacy of the revealed Word — is taught, like all the other great doctrines, from the beginning of the Bible to the end. It is taught in words, in figures, in real events, and in every form in which we can suppose teaching to be required. The very first transgression was the abandonment of the revealed Word for a superior faith in the human judgment: "And when the woman saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was pleasant to the eyes, and a tree to be desired to make one wise, she took of the fruit thereof, and did eat." And so it is with those who abandon Scripture. They see that the full confidence in the human faculty is destined to make them wise, and thus, rejecting the revealed Word, they perpetuate the first transgression. So, also, at the very close of the Sacred Book, — almost its last words are, " If any man shall add unto these things, God shall add unto him the plagues that are written in this book : and if any man shall take away from the words of the book of this prophecy, God shall take away his part out of the book of life, and out of the holy city, and from the things which are written in this book." 412 REVELATION. So, also, when Saul disobeyed the word that had been spoken to him, Samuel tells him, " Behold, to obey is better than sacrifice, and to hearken than the fat rams." — (1 Sam. xv.) So, also, when the man of God out of Judah was commanded to eat no bread and drink no water, and at the instigation of his fellow-prophet disobeyed the voice of the Lord, he was slain by a lion. So, also, with the very fact of a Revelation. What does a Revelation mean, but that man must abandon his judgment in every matter where God gives him the command, — using his judgment, however, to scrutinise the evidences of the Revelation, and to ascertain the true meaning of what is revealed. Not that God requires man to abandon his reason (as some have asserted), but that God, by placing man on a higher platform than that of mere reason, claims the right to direct man through this terrestrial probation, and to lead him to a promised land, where knowledge shall supersede that species of faith which is here required at our hands. We have said that Revelation is the solution of a problem. It is the solution of the problem of the universe, in so far as to enable man to achieve his terrestrial probation successfully. It is not a scientific revelation, nor a philosophic revelation, nor a revela tion of truth which can be excogitated into more perfect system, or increased in amount. It stands permanent, while all scientific truth is capable of im provement, either in its matter, its method, or its extension. But the scriptural revelation is not a THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 413 revelation of knowledge for the instruction of the intel lect, as if man had already passed his probation ; but a revelation of truth, which contains just so much knowledge as is necessary to establish the moral system which is the end of the revelation. The earth is not man's home, it is the wilderness through which man is passing. And just as in the wilder ness through which the children of Israel journeyed, God fed them and guided them; so in man's terres trial condition does God feed man with sufficient truth to sustain him. Not that man enters into his rest, but that God will lead him in safety and security, if he confide in God, and believe in the record which God has borne of his Son. Thus we have two kinds of knowledge, just as we have two kinds of life, and just as there are two worlds, the objective and the spiritual. The spiritual life is an individual phenomenon, beginning with the individual, and terminating with the individual. It is not capable of transmission, like a knowledge of art or a knowledge of science ; and no education, save that of God himself, can positively secure its successful issue. That which man has discovered in science, or in scientific art, can be transmitted from man to man, and thus the labours of the race in the objective world become the heritage of the unborn. But not so with spi ritual knowledge, which undergoes no accumulation, and is susceptible of no transmission. This spiritual life is the permanent of humanity, while the intel lectual life is the fluctuating of humanity. And so 414 REVELATION. Scripture is the permanent of knowledge, while science is the fluctuating or expansible of knowledge. In science, the object is to go beyond all that has hitherto been known ; in the spiritual life, the object is to absorb what has already been declared. In science, the best works are only the stepping-stones to future achievements ; in the world of religious life, the Scriptures are the well-springs of inexhaust ible treasures, which may be drawn upon without diminution. In science, it is man constantly en larging his knowledge of nature ; in Scripture, it is God declaring the absolute truth, which every man requires to know exactly in the same manner. Hence, then, as there is a spiritual and essential world, so there is a spiritual and essential knowledge; and as there is an objective and accidental world, so there is a scientific and accidental knowledge. Now, one of the most striking features of Scripture, is the consistent manner in which it constantly sets forth the spiritual world, and insists on a moral theme. The moral theme is never forgotten; it is the object held constantly in view, with a persevering uniformity, that marks the Bible out from every other book that has been written. The conduct of man, and not his mere information, is perpetually before us in the most vivid reality. We are never allowed to wander from the main purpose, except in those few instances where a small portion of supplementary knowledge was necessary to explain to us the course of events; and even here we are restricted to the narrowest limits, and to the bare but definite statement of facts. CONCLUSION. 415 Of all the books in the world, the Bible is the one that exhibits the clearest idea of a purpose, and the most unswerving adherence to that purpose; which seems to pervade it like a living soul, and to render it instinct with life. From beginning to end it breathes a divine air; not as if it had caught an in spiration, but as if itself were the fountain out of which the waters of life were to flow, and the heavenly country out of which the air of life was to be wafted to the soul. It breathes divinity; not as if it were ascending upwards to the Creator, but as if it were issuing forth from the eternal throne, and shedding the mantle of God's fatherly care over the lost and erring children of our outcast world — gathering back the wanderers to the divine fold, feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, opening the eyes of the blind, and bringing to life the dead in trespasses and sins. What, then, is the great conclusion that man arrives at from a criticism of natural theology and of the Scriptures ? It is this, — That man is a denizen of two worlds, the one spiritual and the other natural : That in the objective world, he is called upon to study the laws which God has established for the general government of the creation, acknowledging, at the same time, that God is the Great Ruler, who can order things according to his will, and can most cer tainly, and does most certainly, exercise his provi dence in the affairs of the world ; that hence, in nature, as well as in the spiritual world, man is bound to commit himself and his cares into the hands of God; and while constantly endeavouring to increase 416 REVELATION. his knowledge, and to conform to the laws which he can discover, yet ever to rely on the overruling Power which may direct his steps aright, and lead him by a way which he knew not of: That man in the spirit ual world is a fallen, lost, and ruined spirit, by na ture an outcast from God, bearing a burden of guilt which must be accounted for, and a burden of sinful desires which prevents him from obeying the law of God : that Christ has appeared to offer a perfect example of righteous obedience ; and also, and as especially, by his obedience unto death, has made an atonement for sin, and thereby has become the righte ousness of his believing people : that inasmuch as man requires not only to be delivered from the ju dicial condemnation which has already been passed on him, but to be divinely delivered from the power of his sinful nature, God has promised the influence of the Holy Spirit to create anew the love of God in the soul of man, so that man shall strive after righte ousness, not as a means of justification, but as the very end of his existence, to the glory of God and to his own immortal good. The doctrines of the Bible are very few in number, although they may be exhibited in many various forms, and expressed with a great diversity of lan guage or circumstance. We may sum them up in a few words, — not that we have here all that the Bible teaches, but that we have the essential scheme or plan upon which every thing depends : — 1. The existence of God in absolute perfection of attribute. CONCLUSION. 417 2. The creation, probation, temptation, and fall of man. The universal guilt of man, and universal actual transgression of every man who acts with the consciousness of volition. He either transgresses or comes short of the perfect requirement. 3. The incarnation of the Son of God for the pur pose of the redemption, — his temptation, — his perfect righteousness of life, — his atoning death, — his resur rection, and his future coming. 4. The influence of the Holy Spirit for the sancti fication of the soul. 5. The unlimited, unmerited, and absolute elec tion by God of his people to eternal life. 6. The resurrection of the dead, the day of judg ment, and the close of the terrestrial dispensation. 2d TERMINAL NOTE EOE THE STUDENT 0E LOGIC. TERMINAL NOTE FOE THE STUDENT OF LOGIC. Every possible truth, every possible error, every possible proposition; every thing that man can think or believe ; every thing that can be apprehended, discussed, or discoursed upon by the human reason, or in human language ; must range itself under the following forms : — The Universal Negative. — Nothing is A. The Universal Affirmative. — Everything is A. The Particular Negative. — Something is not A. The Particular Affirmative. — Something is A. To these must be added a form singularly over looked by logicians — The Confession of Ignorance : I know not whether A is, or is not, — is anything, or nothing. Under these forms all human belief must be ranged; we therefore apply this scheme of human thought to the argument of theology, to show the principle on which all systems and religions must be classified. First. There is the Universal Negative, — Athe ism, — " There is no God ; " or, by conversion, " God is nothing," (save a name.) 422 TERMINAL note Second. There is the Universal Affirmative, — Pantheism, — "God is the Universe;" or, by conver sion, "All that is, is God." Third. There is the Particular Negative, — Scep ticism, — "This or that is not God." Scepticism, when applied to each and every faith, becomes Athe ism ; with this difference, that Scepticism is discrete, and proceeds in detail, while Atheism is absolute, and proceeds by a universal distribution. Fourth. There is the Particular Affirmative,--— God distinguished from the conditioned universe; or, in the language of logic, "Something is God;" with which is understood the complementary propo sition, " Something is not God." These forms may be exhibited to the eye, thus: — Universals. Universal Negative : Universal Affirmative : ATHEISM. PANTHEISM. Nothing is God. The Universe is God. Particulars. Particular Negative : PARTICULAR SCEPTICISM. Particular Affirmative : THEOLOGY. Something is not God God is distinguished from the Universe. FOR THE STUDENT OF LOGIC. 423 These are, in general, the possibilities of a theo logical or anti-theological scheme of the universe : and if we take the fourth form, — Theology, — and divide it into two elements ; the one subjective, or the product of the reason, the intuitions, or of some thing that resides in ourselves ; the other objective, or the product of the senses, or of something external to ourselves ; we arrive at a logical scheme which will classify all religions. All religions must necessarily lie at or between absolute subjectivity, and absolute objectivity; and, therefore, if we draw a diagonal line across a diagram exhibiting the two elements, we must necessarily exhibit the position of every possible faith. All religious credence must lie at or between faith in the absolute ideal, and faith in the absolute real, — at or between the German Negationist, who makes thought the all, and the African worshipper of the Fetish, who deifies the grossest matter. Thus : — The two elements being ultimate-, and relatively absolute, and being in the inverse ratio of each other, all theologie credence must lie at or between these; and, therefore, the question is, to locate the forms of faith on this scheme according to the amount that each faith contains of each respective element. 424 TERMINAL NOTE Thus, all religious credence must lie at or between philosophical Idealism and literal Paganism : but, as extremes meet, the most extreme results of each of these systems will present the same conclusion, and both will land in virtual Atheism ; for it can make no practical difference whether thought be the all, or matter the all. All religions, therefore, must be classed under the following forms ; but, practically, some religions will be a mixture or combination of several of these forms : — 1. Theism. — Or the bare admission of God's existence. It rejects all revelation. At one extreme it becomes Pantheism, and at the other merges into Rationalism. 2. Rationalism. — Which explains away all that is supernatural in revelation, but admits the divinity of genius, and of the higher moral teaching. At one extreme it becomes mere Theism, at the other it merges into Unitarianism. 3. Unitarianism. — Which admits the personal God of the Bible, but denies the divinity of the Saviour. At one extreme it becomes Rationalism, at the other extreme it approaches towards Protestantism. 4. Protestantism. — Which establishes the supre macy of Scripture in all things revealed, but admits the validity of reason in all things subject to the reason and the senses. 5. Romanism. — Which joins to revelation the ele ment of tradition, and denies the validity of the reason and the senses in the transubstantiation of the FOR THE STUDENT OF LOGIC. 425 wafer. On one side it approaches Protestantism, on the other it becomes symbolic or literal Paganism. 6. Symbolic Paganism. — Which uses the idol, but professes to regard it as the representative and not the real God. On one side it becomes tantamount to Romanism (basing on tradition), on the other side it merges into literal Paganism. 7. Literal Paganism, or Fetishism. — Which wor ships the idol as God. The God has become matter, and thus Fetishism has once more become Panthe ism. It is plain that the first three forms contain a pre dominance of the subjective or rational element, and that the last three contain a predominance of the objective or sensuous element, and that Protestant ism lies midway between the two classes. All the forms may therefore be represented thus : — Subjective . Element. Objective' Element. Theism.Eationalism.Unitarianism.Protestantism.Romanism. Symbolic Paganism. Literal Paganism. But if we consider Theism, Rationalism, and Uni tarianism, to be defective on the side of Revelation ; and if we consider Romanism and Paganism to be defective on the side of Reason; the ultimate 426 TERMINAL NOTE, ETC. figure, that must represent every possible form of religion, is as follows : — Protestantism. Unitarianism. f\ Bomanism. Rationalism. / \ Symbolic Paganism. Theism. / \ Literal Paganism. Rational Pantheism. / \ Material Pantheism. From Protestantism we may descend logically downward through Unitarianism, Rationalism, and Theism, to Speculative Pantheism ; and, on the other side, we may descend downward through Romanism and Paganism to Material Pantheism. On the one hand, we arrive at the conclusion that thought is the all (our own thoughts); on the other, that matter is the all — that matter makes thought. Beyond this the plunge is into absolute scepticism, — that the All is Nothing, and that Nothing is the All, — that, Naught is every thing, And every thing is Naught. THE END. ,YAIrf UNIVERSITY LIBRARY _3 9002 02419 7379