I I ■ m ^^H LIBRARY OF CONGRESS DDD015flE5flt, Class 'RLSl Book . Mb 181^. THREE ESSAYS ON RELIGION NATURE THE UTILITY OF RELIGION AND THEISM BY JOHN STUART MILL SECOND EDITION LONDON LONGMANS, GREEN, READER, AND DYER MDCCCLXXIV f^?7 rif^te resenrccL] INTRODUCTORY NOTICE The three following Essays on Religion were written at considerable intervals of time, without any intention of forming a consecutive series, and must not there- fore be regarded as a connected body of thought, excepting in so far as they exhibit the Author's delibe- rate and exhaustive treatment of the topics under consideration. The two first of these three Essays were written between the years 1850 and 1858, during the period which intervened between the publication of the Principles of Political Economy, and that of the work on Liberty ; during which interval three other Essays — on Justice, on Utility, and on Liberty — were also composed. Of the five Essays written at that time, three have already been given to the public by the Author. That on Liberty was ex- panded into the now well-known work bearing the same title. Those on Justice and Utility were afterwards incorporated, with some alterations and additions, into one, and published under the name of Utilitarianism. The remaining two — on Nature and Vlll INTRODUCTORY NOTICE on the Utility of Eeligion— are now given to the public, with the addition of a third — on Theism — which was produced at a much later period. In these two first Essays indications may easily be found of the date at which they were composed; among which indications may be noted the absence of any mention of the works of Mr. Darwin and Sir Henry Maine in passages where there is coincidence of thought with those writers, or where subjects are treated which they have since discussed in a manner to which the Author of these Essays would certainly have referred had their works been published before these were written. The last Essay in the present volume belongs to a different epoch; it was written between the years 1868 and 1870, but it was not designed as a sequel to the two Essays which now appear along with it, nor were they intended to appear all together. On the other hand it is certain that the Author con- sidered the opinions expressed in these different Essays, as fundamentally consistent. The evidence of this lies in the fact that in the year 1873, after he had completed his Essay on Theism, it was his intention to have published the Essay on Nature at once, with only such slight revision as might be judged necessary in preparing it for the press, but substantially in its present form. Erom this it is INTRODUCTORY NOTICE IX apparent that his manner of thinking had under- gone no substantial change. Whatever discrepancies, therefore, may seem to remain after a really careful comparison between different passages, may be set down either to the fact that the last Essay had not undergone the many revisions which it was the Author's habit to make peculiarly searching and thorough ; or to that difference of tone, and of ap- parent estimate of the relative weight of different considerations, which results from taking a wider view and including a larger number of considerations in the estimate of the subject as a whole, than in dealing with parts of it only. The fact that the Author intended to publish the Essay on Nature in IS 73 is sufficient evidence, if any is needed, that the volume now given to the public was not withheld by him on account of reluctance to encounter whatever odium might result from the free expression of his opinions on religion. That he did not purpose to publish the other two Essays at the same time, was in accord with the Author's habit in regard to the public utterance of his religious opinions. For at the same time that he was peculiarly delibe- rate and slow in forming opinions, he had a special dislike to the utterance of half-formed opinions. He declined altogether to be hurried into premature de- cision on any point to which he did not think he had X INTRODUCTORY NOTICE given sufficient time and labour to have exhausted it to the utmost limit of his own thinking powers. And, in the same way, even after he had arrived at definite conclusions, he refused to allow the curiosity of others to force him to the expression of them before he had bestowed all the elaboration in his power upon their adequate expression, and before, therefore, he had subjected to the test of time, not only the conclusions themselves, but also the form into which he had thrown them. The same reasons, therefore, that made him cautious in the spoken utterance of his opinion in proportion as it was necessary to be at once precise and comprehensive in order to be properly un- derstood, which in his judgment was pre-eminently the case in religious speculation, were the reasons that made him abstain from publishing his Essay on Nature for upwards of fifteen years, and might have led him still to withhold the others which now appear in the same volume. • From this point of view it will be seen that the Essay on Theism has both greater value and less than any other of the Author's works. The last consider- able work which he completed, it shows the latest state of the Author's mind, the carefully balanced result of the deliberations of a lifetime. On the other hand, there had not been time for it to undergo the revision to which from time to time he subjected most of his writings before making them public. Not only INTRODUCTORY NOTICE XI therefore is the style less polished than that of any other of his published works, but even the matter itself, at least in the exact shape it here assumes, has never undergone the repeated examination which it certainly would have passed through before he would himself have given it to the world. Helen Taylor. CONTENTS PAGB NATURE ................. 3 UTILITY OF RELIGION 69 THEISM .125 PART I INTRODUCTION . . . . ...... 125 THEISM , r* • 130 THE EVIDENCES OF THEISM .....138 ARGUMENT FOR A FIRST CAUSE . . . 142 ARGUMENT FROM THE GENERAL CONSENT OF MANKIND , .155 THE ARGUMENT FROM CONSCIOUSNESS 161 THE ARGUMENT FROM MARKS OF DESIGN IN NATURE . . .167 PART II ATTRIBUTES . , 176 PART III IMMORTALITY 197 PART IT REVELATION '. . . 212 PART V GENERAL RESULT 242 NATUKE NATUKE "VTATUBE, natural, and the group of words derived from them, or allied to them in etymology, have at all times filled a great place in the thoughts and taken a strong hold on the feelings of mankind. That they should have done so is not surprising, when we consider what the words, in their primitive and most obvious signification, represent ; but it is unfortunate that a set of terms which play so great a part in moral and metaphysical speculation, should have acquired many meanings different from the primary one, yet sufficiently allied to it to admit of confusion. The words have thus become entangled in so many foreign associations, mostly of a very powerful and tenacious character, that they have come to excite, and to be the symbols of, feelings which their original meaning will by no means justify; and which have made them one of the most copious sources of false taste, false philosophy, false morality, and even bad law. B 4 NATURE The most important application of the Socratic Elenchus, as exhibited and improved by Plato, consists in dissecting large abstractions of this description ; fixing down to a precise definition the meaning which as popularly nsed they merely shadow forth, and questioning and testing the common maxims and opinions in which they bear a part. It is to be regretted that among the instructive specimens of this kind of investigation which Plato has left, and to which subsequent times have been so much indebted for whatever intellectual clearness they have attained, he has not enriched posterity with a dialogue irepl (frvazvQ. If the idea denoted by the word had been subjected to his searching analysis, and the popular common- places in which it figures had been submitted to the ordeal of his powerful dialectics, his successors probably would not have rushed, as they speedily did, into modes of thinking and reasoning of which the falla- cious use cf that word formed the corner stone ; a kind of fallacy from which he was himself singularly free. According to the Platonic method which is still the best type of such investigations, the first thing to be done with so vague a term is to ascertain precisely what it means. It is also a rule of the same method, that the meaning of an abstraction is best sought for in the concrete — of an universal in the particular. Adopting this course with the word Nature, the first question must be, what is meant by the " nature " of NATURE 5 a particular object? as of fire, of water, or of some individual plant or animal ? Evidently the ensemble or aggregate of its powers or properties : the modes in which it acts on other things (counting among those things the senses of the observer) and the modes in which other things act upon it ; to which, in the case of a sentient being, must be added, its own capacities of feeling, or being conscious. The Nature of the thing means all this ; means its entire capacity of exhibiting phenomena. And since the phenomena which a thing exhibits, however much they vary in different circumstances, are always the same in the same circumstances, they admit of being described in general forms of words, which are called the laws of the thing's nature. Thus it is a law of the nature of water that under the mean pressure of the atmosphere at the level of the sea, it boils at 212° Fahrenheit. As the nature of any given thing is the aggregate of its powers and properties, so Nature in the abstract is the aggregate of the powers and properties of all things. Nature means the sum of all phenomena, together with the causes which produce them ; in- cluding not only all that happens, but all that is capable of happening; the unused capabilities of causes being as much a part of the idea of Nature, as those which take effect. Since all phenomena which have been sufficiently examined are found to take place with regularity, each having certain fixed conditions, B2 b NATURE positive and negative, on the occurrence of which it invariably happens ; mankind have been able to ascer- tain, either by direct observation or by reasoning pro- cesses grounded on it, the conditions of the occurrence of many phenomena ; and the progress of science mainly consists in ascertaining those conditions. When dis- covered they can be expressed in general propositions, which are called laws of the particular phenomenon, and also, more generally, Laws of Nature. Thus, the truth that all material objects tend towards one another with a force directly as their masses and inversely as the square of their distance, is a law of Nature. The proposition that air and food are neces- sary to animal life, if it be as we have good reason to believe, true without exception, is also a law of nature, though the phenomenon of which it is the law is special, and not, like gravitation, universal. Nature, then, in this its simplest acceptation, is a collective name for all facts, actual and possible : or (to speak more accurately) a name for the mode, partly known to us and partly unknown, in which all things take place. For the word suggests, not so much the multitudinous detail of the phenomena, as the con- ception which might be formed of their manner of existence as a mental whole, by a mind possessing a complete knowledge of them : to which conception it is the aim of science to raise itself, by successive steps of generalization from experience. NATURE Such, then, is a correct definition of the word Nature. But this definition corresponds only to one of the senses of that ambiguous term. It is evidently inapplicable to some of the modes in which the word is familiarly employed. For example, it entirely con- flicts with the common form of speech by which Nature is opposed to Art, and natural to artificial. For in the sense of the word Nature which has just been defined, and which is the true scientific sense, Art is as much Nature as anything else ; and every- thing which is artificial is natural — Art has no independent powers of its own: Art is but the employment of the powers of Nature for an end. Phenomena produced by human agency, no less than those which as far as we are concerned are spontaneous, depend on the properties of the elementary forces, or of the elementary substances and their compounds. The united powers of the whole human race could not create a new property of matter in general, or of any one of its species. We can only take advantage for our purposes of the properties which we find. A ship floats by the same laws of specific gravity and equilibrium, as a tree uprooted by the wind and blown into the water. The corn which men raise for food, grows and produces its grain by the same laws of vegetation by which the wild rose and the mountain strawberry bring forth their flowers and fruit. A house stands and holds together by the natural pro- 8 NATURE perties, the weight and cohesion of the materials which compose it : a steam engine works by the natural expansive force of steam, exerting a pressure upon one part of a system of arrangements, which pressure, by the mechanical properties of the lever, is transferred from that to another part where it raises the weight or removes the obstacle brought into connexion with it. In these and all other artificial operations the office of man is, as has often been remarked, a very limited one ; it consists in moving things into certain places. We move objects, and by doing this, bring some things into contact which were separate, or separate others which were in contact : and by this simple change of place, natural forces previously dormant are called into action, and produce the desired effect. Even the volition which designs, the intelligence which contrives, and the muscular force which executes these movements, are themselves powers of Nature. It thus appears that we must recognize at least two principal meanings in the word Nature. In one sense, it means all the powers existing in either the outer or the inner world and everything which takes place by means of those powers. In another sense, it means, not everything which happens, but only what takes place without the agency, or without the voluntary and intentional agency, of man. This dis- tinction is far from exhausting the ambiguities of the NATURE 9 word ; but it is the key to most of those on which important consequences depend. Such, then, being the two principal senses of the word Nature ; in which of these is it taken, or is it taken in either, when the word and its derivatives are used to convey ideas of commendation, approval, and even moral obligation ? It has conveyed such ideas in all ages. Naturam sequi was the fundamental principle of morals in many of the most admired schools of philosophy. Among the ancients, especially in the declining period of ancient intellect and thought, it was the test to which all ethical doctrines were brought. The Stoics and the Epicureans, however irreconcilable in the rest of their systems, agreed in holding themselves bound to prove that their respective maxims of conduct were the dictates of nature. Under their influence the Eoman jurists, when attempting to systematize jurisprudence, placed in the front of their exposition a certain Jus Naturale, " quod natura", as Justinian declares in the Institutes, " omnia animalia docuit " : and as the modern systematic writers not only on law but on moral philosophy, have generally taken the Eoman jurists for their models, treatises on the so-called Law of Nature have abounded ; and references to this Law as a supreme rule and ultimate standard have per- vaded literature. The writers on International Law have done more than any others to give currency to 10 NATURE this style of ethical speculation ; inasmuch as having no positive law to write about, and yet being anxious to invest the most approved opinions respecting inter- national morality with as much as they could of the authority of law, they endeavoured to find such an authority in Nature's imaginary code. The Christian theology during the period of its greatest ascendancy, opposed some, though not a complete, hindrance to the modes of thought which erected Nature into the criterion of morals, inasmuch as, according to the creed of most denominations of Christians (though assuredly not of Christ) man is by nature wicked. But this very doctrine, by the reaction which it provoked, has made the deistical moralists almost unanimous in proclaiming the divinity of Nature, and setting up its fancied dictates as an authoritative rule of action. A reference to that supposed standard is the predominant ingredient in the vein of thought and feeling which was opened bj^ Eousseau, and which has infiltrated itself most widely into the modern mind, not excepting that portion 6f it which calls itself Christian. The doctrines of Christianity have in every age been largely accommodated to the philosophy which happened to be prevalent, and the Christianity of our day has borrowed a considerable part of its colour and flavour from sentimental deism. At the present time it cannot be said that Nature, or any other standard, is applied as it was wont to be, to NATURE 11 deduce rules of action with juridical precision, and with an attempt to make its application co-extensive with all human agency. The people of this genera- tion do not commonly apply principles with any such studious exactness, nor own such binding allegiance to any standard, but live in a kind of confusion of many standards ; a condition not propitious to the formation of steady moral convictions, but convenient enough to those whose moral opinions sit lightly on them, since it gives them a much wider range of arguments for defending the doctrine of the moment. But though perhaps no one could now be found who like the institutional writers of former times, adopts the so-called Law of Nature as the foundation of ethics, and endeavours consistently to reason from it, the word and its cognates must still be counted among those which carry great weight in moral argumenta- tion. That any mode of thinking, feeling, or acting, is " according to nature " is usually accepted as a strong argument for its goodness. If it can be said with any plausibility that "nature enjoins" anything, the propriety of obeying the injunction is by most people considered to be made out : and conversely, the imputation of being contrary to nature, is thought to bar the door against any pretension on the part of the thing so designated, to be tolerated or excused ; and the word unnatural has not ceased to be one of the most vituperative epithets in the language. Those 12 NATURE who deal in these expressions, may avoid making themselves responsible for any fundamental theorem respecting the standard of moral obligation, but they do not the less imply such a theorem, and one which must be the same in substance with that on which the more logical thinkers of a more laborious age grounded their systematic treatises on Natural Law. Is it necessary to recognize in these forms of speech, another distinct meaning of the word Nature ? Or can they be connected, by any rational bond of union, with either of the two meanings already treated of? At first it may seem that we have no option but to admit another ambiguity in the term. Ml inquiries are either into what is, or into what ought to be : science and history belonging to the first division, art, morals and politics to the second. But the two senses of the word Nature first pointed out, agree in referring only to what is. In the first meaning, Nature is a collective name for everything which is. In the second, it is a name for everything which is of itself, without voluntary human intervention. But the employment of the word Nature as a term of ethics seems to disclose a third meaning, in which Nature does not stand for what is, but for what ought to be ; or for the rule or standard of what ought to be. A little consideration, however, will show that this is not a case of ambiguity ; there is not here a third sense of the word. Those who set up Nature as a NATURE 13 standard of action do not intend a merely verbal pro- position ; they do not mean that the standard, whatever it be, should be called Nature ; they think they are giving some information as to what the standard of action really is. Those who say that we ought to act according to Nature do not mean the mere identical proposition that we ought to do what we ought to do. They think that the word Nature affords some external criterion of what we should do ; and if they lay down as a rule for what ought to be, a word which in its proper signification denotes what is, they do so because they have a notion, either clearly or confusedly, that what is, constitutes the rule and standard of what ought to be. The examination of this notion, is the object of the present Essay. It is proposed to inquire into the truth of the doctrines which make Nature a test of right and wrong, good and evil, or which in any mode or degree attach merit or approval to following, imitat- ing, or obeying Nature. To this inquiry the foregoing discussion respecting the meaning of terms, was an indispensable introduction. Language is as it were the atmosphere of philosophical investigation, which must be made transparent before anything can be seen through it in the true figure and position. In the present case it is necessary to guard against a further ambiguity, which though abundantly obvious, has sometimes misled even sagacious minds, and of 14 NATURE which it is well to take distinct note before proceeding further. No word is more commonly associated with the word Nature, than Law ; and this last word has distinctly two meanings, in one of which it denotes some definite portion of what is, in the other, of what ought to be. We speak of the law of gravitation, the three laws of motion, the law of definite proportions in chemical combination, the vital laws of organized beings. All these are portions of what is. We also speak of the criminal law, the civil law, the law of honour, the law of veracity, the law of justice ; all of which are por- tions of what ought to be, or of somebody's suppositions, feelings, or commands respecting what ought to be. The first kind of laws, such as the laws of motion, and of gravitation, are neither more nor less than the ob- served uniformities in the occurrence of phenomena : partly uniformities of antecedence and sequence, partly of concomitance. These are what, in science, and even in ordinary parlance, are meant by laws of nature. Laws in the other sense are the laws of the land, the law of nations, or moral laws ; among which, as already noticed, is dragged in, by jurists and publi- cists, something which they think proper to call the Law of Nature. Of the liability of these two mean- ings of the word to be confounded there can be no better example than the first chapter of Montesquieu ; where he remarks, that the material world has its laws, the inferior animals have their laws, and man has NATURE 15 his laws; and calls attention to the mnch greater strictness with which the first two sets of laws are observed, than the last ; as if it were an inconsistency, and a paradox, that things always are what they are, but men not alwa} r s what they ought to be. A similar confusion of ideas pervades the writings of Mr. Greorge Combe, from whence it has overflowed into a large region of popular literature, and we are now con- tinually reading injunctions to obey the physical laws of the universe, as being obligatory in the same sense and manner as the moral. The conception which the ethical use of the word Nature implies, of a close rela- tion if not absolute identity between what is and what ought to be, certainly derives part of its hold on the mind from the custom of designating what is, by the expression " laws of nature," while the same word Law is also used, and even more familiarly and em- phatically, to express what ought to be. When it is asserted, or implied, that Nature, or the laws of Nature, should be conformed to, is the Nature which is meant, Nature in the first sense of the term, meaning all which is — the powers and properties of all things ? But in this signification, there is no need of a recommendation to act according to nature, since it is what nobody can possibly help doing, and equally whether he acts well or ill. There is no mode of acting which is not conformable to Nature in this sense of the term, and all modes of acting are so in 16 NATURE exactly the same degree. Every action is the exertion of some natural power, and its effects of all , sorts are so many phenomena of nature, produced by the powers and properties of some of the objects of nature, in exact obedieDce to some law or laws of nature. When I voluntarily use my organs to take in food, the act, and its consequences, take place according to laws of nature : if instead of food I swallow poison, the case is exactly the same. To bid people conform to the laws of nature when they have no power but what the laws of nature give them — when it is a physical im- possibility for them to do the smallest thing otherwise than through some law of nature, is an absurdity. The thing they need to be told is, what particular law of nature they should make use of in a particular case. When, for example, a person is crossing a river by a narrow bridge to which there is no parapet, he will do well to regulate his proceedings by the laws of equilibrium in moving bodies, instead of conforming only to the law of gravitation, and falling into the river. Yet, idle as it is to exhort people to do what they cannot avoid doing, and absurd as it is to prescribe as a rule of right conduct what agrees exactly as well with wrong ; nevertheless a rational rule of conduct may be constructed out of the relation which it ought to bear to the laws of nature in this widest acceptation of the term. Man necessarily obeys the laws of nature, NATURE 17 or in other words the properties of things, but he does not necessarily guide himself by them. Though all conduct is in conformity to laws of nature, all con- duct is not grounded on knowledge of them, and intelligently directed to the attainment of purposes by means of them. Though we cannot emancipate ourselves from the laws of nature as a whole, we can escape from any particular law of nature, if we are able to withdraw ourselves from the circumstances in which it acts. Though we can do nothing except through laws of nature, we can use one law to counter- act another. According to Bacon's maxim, we can obey nature in such a manner as to command it. Every alteration of circumstances alters more or less the laws of nature under which we act ; and by every choice which we make either of ends or of means, we place ourselves to a greater or less extent under one set of laws of nature instead of another. If, therefore, the useless precept to follow nature were changed into a precept to study nature ; to know and take heed of the properties of the things we have to deal with, so far as these properties are capable of forwarding or ob- structing any given purpose ; we should have arrived at the first principle of all intelligent action, or rather at the definition of intelligent action itself. And a confused notion of this true principle, is, I doubt not, in the minds of many of those who set up the un- meaning doctrine which superficially resembles it. 18 NATURE They perceive that the essential difference between wise and foolish conduct consists in attending, or not attending, to the particular laws of nature on which some important result depends. And they think, that a person who attends to a law of nature in order to shape his conduct by it, may be said to obey it, while a person who practically disregards it, and acts as if no such law existed, may be said to disobey it : the circumstance being overlooked, that what is thus called disobedience to a law of nature is obedience to some other or perhaps to the very law itself. For example, a person who goes into a powder magazine either not knowing, or carelessly omitting to think of, the ex- plosive force of gunpowder, is likely to do some act which will cause him to be blown to atoms in obedi- ence to the very law which he has disregarded. But however much of its authority the " Naturam sequi " doctrine may owe to its being confounded with the rational precept "Naturam observare," its favourers and promoters unquestionably intend much more by it than that precept. To acquire knowledge of the pro- perties of things, and make use of the knowledge for guidance, is a rule of prudence, for the adaptation of means to ends ; for giving effect to our wishes and intentions whatever they may be. But the maxim of obedience to Nature, or conformity to Nature, is held up not as a simply prudential but as an ethical maxim ; and by those who talk of jus natures, even as a law, fit NATURE 19 to be administered by tribunals and enforced by sanctions. Eight action, must mean something more and other than merely intelligent action : yet no precept beyond this last, can be connected with the word Nature in the wider and more philosophical of its acceptations. We must try it therefore in the other sense, that in which Nature stands distinguished from Art, and denotes, not the whole course of the pheno- mena which come under our observation, but only their spontaneous course. Let us then consider whether we can attach any meaning to the supposed practical maxim of following Nature, in this second sense of the word, in which Nature stands for that which takes place without hu- man intervention. In Nature as thus understood, is the spontaneous course of things when left to them- selves, the rule to be followed in endeavouring to adapt things to our use? But it is evident at once that the maxim, taken in this sense, is not merely, as it is in the other sense, superfluous and unmeaning, but palpably absurd and self-contradictory. For while human action cannot help conforming to Nature in the one meaning of the term, the very aim and ob- ject of action is to alter and improve Nature in the other meaning. If the natural course of things were perfectly right and satisfactory, to act at all would be a gratuitous meddling, which as it could not make things better, must niake them worse. Or if action at c 20 NATURE all could be justified, it would only be when in direct obedience to instincts, since these might perhaps be accounted part of the spontaneous order of Nature ; but to do anything with forethought and purpose, would be a violation of that perfect order. If the artificial is not better than the natural, to what end are all the arts of life ? To dig, to plough, to build, to wear clothes, are direct infringements of the injunc- tion to follow nature. Accordingly it would be said by every one, even of those most under the influence of the feelings which prompt the injunction, that to apply it to such cases as those just spoken of, would be to push it too far. Everybody professes to approve and admire many great triumphs of Art over Nature : the junction by bridges of shores which Nature had made separate, the draining of Nature's marshes, the excavation of her wells, the dragging to light of what she has buried at immense depths in the earth ; the turning away of her thunderbolts by lightning rods, of her inundations by embankments, of her ocean by break- waters. But to commend these and similar feats, is to acknowledge that the ways of Nature are to be conquered, not obeyed : that her powers are often towards man in the position of enemies, from whom he must wrest, by force and ingenuity, what little he can for his own use, and deserves to be applauded when that little is rather more than might be ex- NATURE 21 pected from his physical weakness in comparison to those gigantic ' powers. All praise of Civilization, or Art, or Contrivance, is so much dispraise of Nature ; an admission of imperfection, which it is man's business, and merit, to be always endeavouring to correct or mitigate. The consciousness that whatever man does to improve his condition is in so much a censure and a thwarting of the spontaneous order of Nature, has in all ages caused new and unprecedented attempts at improvement to be generally at first under a shade of religious suspicion ; as being in any case uncompli- mentary, and very probably offensive to the powerful beings (or, when polytheism gave place to mono- theism, to the all-powerful Being) supposed to govern the various phenomena of the universe, and of whose will the course of nature was conceived to be the expression. Any attempt to mould natural phenomena to the convenience of mankind might easily appear an interference with the government of those superior beings : and though life could not have been maintained, much less made pleasant, without perpetual interferences of the kind, each new one was doubtless made with fear and trembling, until experience had shown that it could be ventured on without drawing. down the vengeance of the Grods. The sagacity of priests showed them a way to recon- cile the impunity of particular infringements with the c 2 22 NATURE maintenance of the general dread of encroaching on the divine administration. This was effected by repre- senting each of the principal human inventions as the gift and favour of some God. The old religions also afforded many resources for consulting the Gods, and obtaining their express permission for what would otherwise have appeared a breach of their prerogative. When oracles had ceased, any religion which recognized a revelation afforded expedients for the same purpose. The Catholic religion had the resource of an infallible Church, authorized to declare what exertions of human spontaneity were permitted or forbidden ; and in default of this, the case was always open to argu- ment from the Bible whether any particular practice had expressly or by implication been sanctioned. The notion remained that this liberty to control Nature was conceded to man only by special in- dulgence, and as far as required by his necessities ; and there was always a tendency, though a diminishing one, to regard any attempt to exercise power over nature, beyond a certain degree, and a certain ad- mitted range, as an impious effort to usurp divine power, and dare more than was permitted to man. The lines of Horace in which the familiar arts of shipbuilding and navigation are reprobated as vetitum ?iefas, indicate even in that sceptical age a still unex- hausted vein of the old sentiment. The intensity of the corresponding feeling in the middle ages is not a NATURE 23 precise parallel, on account of the superstition about dealing with evil spirits with which it was com- plicated : but the imputation of prying into the secrets of the Almighty long remained a powerful weapon of attack against unpopular inquirers into nature ; and the charge of presumptuously attempting to defeat the designs of Providence, still retains enough of its original force to be thrown in as a make-weight along with other objections when there is a desire to find fault with any new exertion of human forethought and contrivance. No one, indeed, asserts it to be the intention of the Creator that the spontaneous order of the creation should not be altered, or even that it should not be altered in any new way. But there still exists a vague notion that though it is very proper to control this or the other natural phenomenon, the general scheme of nature is a model for us to imitate : that with more or less liberty in details, we should on the whole be guided by the spirit and general conception of nature's own ways : that they are Grod's work, and as such perfect ; that man cannot rival their unapproachable excellence, and can best show his skill and piety by attempting, in however imperfect a way, to reproduce their likeness ; and that if not the whole, yet some par- ticular parts of the spontaneous order of nature, selected according to the speaker's predilections, are in a peculiar sense, manifestations of the Creator's 24 NATURE will ; a sort of finger posts pointing out the direction which things in general, and therefore our voluntary actions, are intended to take. Feelings of this sort, though repressed on ordinary occasions by the contrary current of life, are ready to break out whenever custom is silent, and the native promptings of the mind have nothing opposed to them but reason : and appeals are continually made to them by rhetoricians, with the effect, if not of convincing opponents, at least of making those who already hold the opinion which the rhetorician desires to re- commend, better satisfied with it. For in the present day it probably seldom happens that any one is persuaded to approve any course of action because it appears to him to bear an analogy to the divine government of the world, though the argument tells on him with great force, and is felt by him to be a great support, in behalf of anything which he is already inclined to approve. If this notion of imitating the ways of Providence as manifested in Nature, is seldom expressed plainly and downrightly as a maxim of general application, it also is seldom directly contradicted. Those who find it on their path, prefer to turn the obstacle rather than to attack it, being often themselves not free from the feeling, and in any case afraid of incurring the charge of impiety by saying anything which might be held to disparage the works of the Creator's power. They NATURE 25 therefore, for the most part, rather endeavour to show, that they have as ranch right to the religious argu- ment as their opponents, and that if the course they recommend seems to conflict with some part of the ways of Providence, there is some other part with which it agrees better than what is contended for on the other side. In this mode of dealing with the great a priori fallacies, the progress of improvement clears away particular errors while the causes of errors are still left standing, and very little weakened by each conflict : yet by a long series of such partial victories precedents are accumulated, to which an appeal may be made against these powerful pre- possessions, and which afford a growing hope that the misplaced feeling, after having so often learnt to recede, may some day be compelled to an unconditional surrender. For however offensive the proposition may appear to many religious persons, they should be willing to look in the face the undeniable fact, that the order of nature, in so far as unmodified by man, is such as no being, whose attributes are justice and benevolence, would have made, with the intention that his rational creatures should follow it as an example. If made wholly by such a Being, and not partly by beings of very different qualities, it could only be as a designedly imperfect work, which man, in his limited sphere, is to exercise justice and bene- volence in amending. The best persons have always 26 NATURE held it to be the essence of religion, that the paramount duty of man upon earth is to amend himself: but all except monkish quietists have annexed to this in their inmost minds (though seldom willing to enunciate the obligation with the same clearness) the additional religious duty of amending the world, and not solely the human part of it but the material ; the order of physical nature. In considering this subject it is necessary to divest ourselves of certain preconceptions which may justly be called natural prejudices, being grounded on feelings which, in themselves natural and inevitable, intrude into matters with which they ought to have no concern. One of these feelings is the astonishment, rising into awe, which is inspired (even independently of all religious sentiment) by any of the greater natural phenomena. A hurricane ; a mountain pre- cipice ; the desert ; the ocean, either agitated or at rest; the solar system, and the great cosmic forces which hold it together ; the boundless firmament, and to an educated mind any single star ; excite feelings which make all human enterprises and powers appear so insignificant, that to a mind thus occupied it seems insufferable presumption in so puny a creature as man to look critically on things so far above him, or dare to measure himself against the grandeur of the universe. But a little interrogation of our own consciousness will suffice to convince us, NATURE 27 that what makes these phenomena so impressive is simply their vastness. The enormous extension in space and time, or the enormous power they exemplify, constitutes their sublimity ; a feeling in all cases, more allied to terror than to any moral emotion. And though the vast scale of these pheno- mena may well excite wonder, and sets at defiance all idea of rivalry, the feeling it inspires is of a totally different character from admiration of excellence. Those in whom awe produces admiration may be aesthetically developed, but they are morally uncul- tivated. It is one of the endowments of the imagina- tive part of our mental nature that conceptions of greatness and power, vividly realized, produce a feeling which though in its higher degrees closely bordering on pain, we prefer to most of what are accounted pleasures. But we are quite equally capable of experiencing this feeling towards male- ficent power ; and we never experience it so strongly towards most of the powers of the universe, as when we have most present to our consciousness a vivid sense of their capacity of inflicting evil. Because these natural powers have what we cannot imitate, enormous might, and overawe us by that one attribute, it would be a great error to infer that their other attributes are such as we ought to emulate, or that we should be justified in using our small powers after the example which Nature sets us with her vast forces. 28 NATURE For, how stands the fact? That next to the greatness of these cosmic forces, the quality which most forcibly strikes every one who does not avert his eyes from it, is their perfect and absolute recklessness. They go straight to their end, without regarding what or whom they crush on the road. Optimists, in their attempts to prove that "whatever is, is right," are obliged to maintain, not that Nature ever turns one step from her path to avoid trampling us into destruction, but that it would be very unreasonable in us to expect that she should. Pope's "Shall gravitation cease when you go by?" may be a just rebuke to any one who should be so silly as to expect common human morality from nature. But if the question were between two men, instead of between a man and a natural phenomenon, that triumphant apostrophe would be thought a rare piece of impu- dence. A man who should persist in hurling stones or firing cannon when another man "goes by," and having killed him should urge a similar plea in exculpation, would very deservedly be found guilty of murder. In sober truth, nearly all the things which men are hanged or imprisoned for doing to one another, are nature's every day performances. Killing, the most criminal act recognized by human laws, Nature does once to every being that lives ; and in a large pro- portion of cases, after protracted tortures such as only NATURE 29 the greatest monsters whom we read of ever purposely inflicted on their living fellow-creatures. If, by an arbitrary reservation, we refuse to account anything murder but what abridges a certain term supposed to be allotted to human life, nature also does this to all but a small percentage of lives, and does it in all the modes, violent or insidious, in which the worst human beings take the lives of one another. Nature impales men, breaks them as if on the wheel, casts them to be devoured by wild beasts, burns them to death, crushes them w T ith stones like the first christian martyr, starves them with hunger, freezes them with cold, poisons them by the quick or slow venom of her ex- halations, and has hundreds of other hideous deaths in reserve, such as the ingenious .cruelty of a Nabis or a Domitian never surpassed. All this, Nature does with the most supercilious disregard both of mercy and of justice, emptying her shafts upon the best and noblest indifferently with the meanest and worst ; upon those who are engaged in the highest and worthiest enterprises, and often as the direct con- sequence of the noblest acts ; and it might almost be imagined as a punishment for them. She mows down those on whose existence hangs the well-being of a whole people, perhaps the prospects of the human race for generations to come, with as little compunc- tion as those whose death is a relief to themselves, or a blessing to those under their noxious influence.. 30 NATURE Such are Nature's dealings with life. Even when she does not intend to kill, she inflicts the same tortures in apparent wantonness. In the clumsy provision which she has made for that perpetual renewal of animal life, rendered necessary by the prompt termina- tion she puts to it in every individual instance, no human being ever comes into the world but another human being is literally stretched on the rack for hours or days, not unfrequently issuing in death. Next to taking life (equal to it according to a high authority) is taking the means by which we live ; and Nature does this too on the largest scale and with the most callous indifference. A single hurricane destroys the hopes of a season; a flight of locusts, or an inundation, desolates a district ; a trifling chemical change in an edible root, starves a million of people. The waves of the sea, like banditti seize and appro- priate the wealth of the rich and the little all of the poor with the same accompaniments of stripping, wounding, and killing as their human antitypes. Everything in short, which the worst men commit either against life or property is perpetrated on a larger scale by natural agents. Nature has Noyades more fatal than those of Carrier; her explosions of fire damp are as destructive as human artillery ; her plague and cholera far surpass the poison cups of the Borgias. Even the love of " order" which is thought to be a following of the ways of Nature, is in fact NATURE 3 1 a contradiction of them. All which people are accustomed to deprecate as " disorder" and its con- sequences, is precisely a counterpart of Nature's ways. Anarchy and the Eeign of Terror are overmatched in injustice, ruin, and death, by a hurricane and a pestilence. But, it is said, all these things are for wise and good ends. On this I must first remark that whether they are so or not, is altogether beside the point. Supposing it true that contrary to appearances these horrors when perpetrated by Nature, promote good ends, still as no one believes that good ends would be promoted by our following the example, the course of Nature cannot be a proper model for us to imitate. Either it is right that we should kill because nature kills ; torture because nature tortures ; ruin and devastate because nature does the like ; or we ought not to consider at all what nature does, but what it is good to do. If there is such a thing as a reduetio ad ahsurdum, this surely amounts to one. If it is a sufficient reason for doing one thing, that nature does it, why not another thing? If not all things, why anything? The physical government of the world being full of the things which when done by men are deemed the greatest enormities, it cannot be religious or moral in us to guide our actions by the analogy of the course of nature. This proposition remains true, whatever occult quality of producing good may reside 32 NATURE in those facts of nature which to our perceptions are most noxious, and which no one considers it other than a crime to produce artificially. But, in reality, no one consistently believes in any such occult quality. The phrases which ascribe perfection to the course of nature can only be con- sidered as the exaggerations of poetic or devotional feeling, not intended to stand the test of a sober examination. No one, either religious or irreligious, believes that the hurtful agencies of nature, considered as a whole, promote good purposes, in any other way than by inciting human rational creatures to rise up and struggle against them. If we believed that those agencies were appointed by a benevolent Providence as the means of accomplishing wise purposes which could not be compassed if they did not exist, then everything done by mankind which tends to chain up these natural agencies or to restrict their mischievous operation, from draining a pestilential marsh down to curing the toothache, or putting up an umbrella, ought to be accounted impious; which assuredly nobody does account them, notwithstanding an undercurrent of sentiment setting in that direction which is occasionally perceptible. On the contrary, the improvements on which the civilized part of mankind most pride themselves, consist in more successfully warding off those natural calamities which if we really believed what most people profess NATURE 33 to believe, we should cherish as medicines provided for our earthly state by infinite wisdom. Inasmuch too as each generation greatly surpasses its pre- decessors in the amount of natural evil which it succeeds in averting, our condition, if the theory were true, ought by this time to have become a terrible manifestation of some tremendous calamity, against which the physical evils we have learnt to overmaster, had previously operated as a pre- servative. Any one, however, who acted as if he supposed this to be the case, would be more likely, I think, to be confined as a lunatic, than reverenced as a saint. It is undoubtedly a very common fact that good comes out of evil, and when it does occur, it is far too agreeable not to find people eager to dilate on it. But in the first place, it is quite as often true of human crimes, as of natural calamities. The fire of London, which is believed to have had so salutary an effect on the healthiness of the city, would have produced that effect just as much if it had been really the work of the " furor papisticus" so long com- memorated on the Monument. The deaths of those whom tyrants or persecutors have made martyrs in any noble cause, have done a service to mankind which would not have been obtained if they had died by accident or disease. Yet whatever incidental and unexpected benefits may result from crimes, they are 34 NATURE crimes nevertheless. In the second place, if good frequently comes out of evil, the converse fact, evil coming out of good, is equally common. Every event public or private, which, regretted on its occurrence, was declared providential at a later period on account of some unforeseen good consequence, might be matched by some other event, deemed fortunate at the time, but which proved calamitous or fatal to those whom it appeared to benefit. Such conflicts between the beginning and the end, or between the event and the expectation, are not only as frequent, but as often held up to notice, in the painful cases as in the agreeable ; but there is nob the same inclination to generalize on them ; or at all events they are not regarded by the moderns (though they were by the ancients) as similarly an indication, of the divine purposes : men satisfy themselves with moralizing on the imperfect nature of our foresight, the uncertainty of events, and the vanity of human expectations. The simple fact is, human interests are so compli- cated, and the effects of any incident whatever so multitudinous, that if it touches mankind at all, its influence on them is, in the great majority of cases, both good and bad. If the greater number of personal misfortunes have their good side, hardly any good fortune ever befel any one which did not give either to the same or to some other person, something to regret i and unhappily there are many misfortunes so XATURE 35 overwhelming that their favourable side, if it exist, is entirely overshadowed and made insignificant ; while the corresponding statement can seldom be made concerning blessings. The effects too of every cause depend so much on the circumstances which acci- dentally accompany it, that many cases are sure to occur in which even the total result is markedly opposed to the predominant tendency : and thus not only evil has its good and good its evil side, but good often produces an overbalance of evil and evil an overbalance of good. This, however, is by no means the general tendency of either phenomenon. On the contrary, both good and evil naturally tend to fructify, each in its own kind, good producing good, and evil, evil. It is one of Nature's general rules, and part of her habitual injustice, that " to him that hath shall be given, but from him that hath not, shall be taken even that which he hath." The ordinary and pre- dominant tendency of good is towards more good. Health, strength, wealth, knowledge, virtue, are not only good in themselves but facilitate and promote the acquisition of good, both of the same and of other kinds. The person who can learn easily, is he who already knows much : it is the strong and not the sickly person who can do everything which most conduces to health; those who find it easy to gain money are not the poor but the rich ; while health, strength, knowledge, talents, are all means of acquiring D 36 NATURE riches, and riches are often an indispensable means of acquiring these. Again, e converso, whatever may be said of evil turning into good, the general tendency of evil is towards further evil. Bodily illness renders the body more susceptible of disease; it produces incapacity of exertion, sometimes debility of mind, and often the loss of means of subsistence. All severe pain, either bodily or mental, tends to increase the susceptibilities of pain for ever after. Poverty is the parent of a thousand mental and moral evils. What is still worse, to be injured or oppressed, when habitual, lowers the whole tone of the character. One bad action leads to others, both in the agent himself, in the bystanders, and in the sufferers. All bad qualities are strengthened by habit, and all vices and follies tend to spread. Intellectual defects generate moral, and moral, intellectual; and every intellectual or moral defect generates others, and so on without end. That much applauded class of authors, the writers on natural theology, have, I venture to think, entirely lost their way, and missed the sole line of argument which could have made their speculations acceptable to any one who can perceive when two propositions contradict one another. They have exhausted the resources of sophistry to make it appear that all the suffering in the world exists to prevent greater — that misery exists, for fear lest there should be misery : a NATURE 37 thesis which if ever so well maintained, could only avail to explain and justify the works of limited beings, compelled to labour under conditions independent of their own will ; but can have no application to a Creator assumed to be omnipotent, who, if he bends to a supposed necessity, himself makes the necessity which he bends to. If the maker of the world can all that he will, he wills misery, and there is no escape from the conclusion. The more consistent of those who have deemed themselves qualified to " vin- dicate the ways of God to man " have endeavoured to avoid the alternative by hardening their hearts, and denying that misery is an evil. The goodness of Grocl, they say, does not consist in willing the happi- ness of his creatures, but their virtue ; and the uni- verse, if not a happy, is a just, universe. But waving the objections to this scheme of ethics, it does not at all get rid of the difficulty. If the Creator of man- kind willed that they should all be virtuous, his designs are as completely baffled as if he had willed that they should all be happy : and the order of nature is constructed with even less regard to the requirements of justice than to those of benevolence. If the law of all creation were justice and the Creator omnipotent, then in whatever amount suffering and happiness might be dispensed to the world, each person's share of them would be exactly proportioned to that person's good or evil deeds ; no human being would have a worse lot D 2 38 NATURE than another, without worse desertg; accident or favouritism would have no part in such a world, but every human life would be the playing out of a drama constructed like a perfect moral tale. No one is able to blind himself to the fact that the world we live in is totally different from this ; insomuch that the necessity of redressing the balance has been deemed one of the strongest arguments for another life after death, which amounts, to an admission that the order of things in this life is often an example of injustice, not justice. If it be said that Grod does not take sufficient account of pleasure and pain to make them the reward or punishment of the good or the wicked, but that virtue is itself the greatest good and vice the greatest evil, then these at least ought to be dis- pensed to all according to what they have done to deserve them ; instead of which, every kind of moral depravity is entailed upon multitudes by the fatality of their birth ; through the fault of their parents, of society, or of uncontrollable circumstances, certainly through no fault of their own. Not even on the most distorted and contracted theory of good which ever was framed by religious or philosophical fanaticism, can the government of Nature be made to resemble the work of a being at once good and omnipotent. The only admissible moral theory of Creation is that the Principle of Good cannot at once and alto- gether subdue the powers of evil, either physical or NATURE 39 moral ; could not place mankind in a world free from the necessity of an incessant struggle with the male- ficent powers, or make them always victorious in that struggle, but could and did make them capable of carrying on the fight with vigour and with progres- sively increasing success. Of all the religious ex- planations of the order of nature, this alone is neither contradictory to itself, nor to the facts for which it attempts to account. According to it, man's duty would consist, not in simply taking care of his own interests by obeying irresistible power, but in standing forward a not ineffectual auxiliary to a Being of per- fect beneficence; a faith which seems much better adapted for nerving him to exertion than a vague and inconsistent reliance on an Author of Good who is supposed to be also the author of evil. And I venture to assert that such has really been, though often unconsciously, the faith of all who have drawn strength and support of any worthy kind from trust in a super- intending Providence. There is no subject on which men's practical belief is more incorrectly indicated by the words they use to express it, than religion. Many have derived a base confidence from imagining them- selves to be favourites of an omnipotent but capricious and despotic Deity. But those who have been strength- ened in goodness by relying on the sympathizing support of a powerful and good Governor of the world, have, I am satisfied, never really believed that 40 NATURE Governor to be, in the strict sense of the term, omni- potent. They have always saved his goodness at the expense of his power. They have believed, perhaps, that he could, if he willed, remove all the thorns from their individual path, but not without causing greater harm to some one else, or frustrating some purpose of greater importance to the general well-being. They have believed that he could do any one thing, but not any combination of things : that his government, like human government, was a system of adjustments and compromises ; that the world is inevitably imperfect, contrary to his intention.* And since the exertion of all his power to make it as little imperfect as pos- sible, leaves it no better than it is, they cannot but regard that power, though vastly beyond human esti- mate, yet as in itself not merely finite, but extremely limited. They are bound, for example, to suppose * This irresistible conviction conies ont in the writings of religious philosophers, in exact proportion to the general clearness of their un- derstanding. It nowhere shines forth so distinctly as in Leibnitz's famous Theodicee, so strangely mistaken for a system of optimism, and, as such, satirized by Voltaire on grounds which do not even touch the author's argument. Leibnitz does not maintain that this world is the best of all imaginable, but only of all possible worlds ; which, he argues, it cannot but be, inasmuch as God, who is absolute goodness, has chosen it and not another. In every page of the work he tacitly assumes an abstract possibility and impossibility, independent of the divine power : and though his pious feelings make him continue to designate that power by the word Omnipotence, he so explains that term as to make it mean, power extending to all that is within the limits of that abstract possibility. NATURE 41 ihat the best he could do for his human creatures was to make an immense majority of all who have yet ■existed, be born (without any fault of their own) Patagonians, or Esquimaux, or something nearly as brutal and degraded, but to give them capacities which by being cultivated for very many centuries in toil and suffering, and after many of the best speci- mens of the race have sacrificed their lives for the purpose, have at last enabled some chosen portions of the species to grow into something better, capable of being improved in centuries more into something really good, of which hitherto there are only to be found individual instances, It may be possible to believe with Plato that perfect goodness, limited and thwarted in every direction by the intractableness of the material, has done this because it could do no better. But that the same perfectly wise and good Being had absolute power over the material, and made it, by voluntary choice, what it is ; to admit this might have been supposed impossible to any one who has the simplest notions of moral good and evil. Nor can any such person, whatever kind of religious phrases he may use, fail to believe, that if Nature and Man are both the works of a Being of perfect good- ness, that Being intended Nature as a scheme to be amended, not imitated, by Man. But even though unable to believe that Nature, as a whole, is a realization of the designs of perfect wisdom 42 NATURE and benevolence, men do not willingly renounce the idea that some part of Nature, at least, must be in- tended as an exemplar, or type ; that on some portion or other of the Creator's works, the image of the moral qualities which they are accustomed to ascribe to him, must be impressed ; that if not all which is, yet some- thing which is, must not only be a faultless model of what ought to be, but must be intended to be our guide and standard in rectifying the rest. It does not suffice them to believe, that what tends to good is to be imitated and perfected, and what tends to evil is to be corrected : they are anxious for some more defi- nite indication of the Creator's designs ; and being persuaded that this must somewhere be met with in his works, undertake the dangerous responsibility of picking and choosing among them in quest of it. A choice which except so far as directed by the general maxim that he intends all the good and none of the evil, must of necessity be perfectly arbitrary ; and if it leads to any conclusions other than such as can be deduced from that maxim, must be, exactly in that proportion, pernicious. It has never been settled by any accredited doctrine, what particular departments of the order of nature shall be reputed to be designed for our moral instruc- tion and guidance ; and accordingly each person's individual predilections, or momentary convenience, have decided to what parts of the divine government NATURE 43 the practical conclusions that he was desirous of establishing, should be recommended to approval as being analogous. One such recommendation must be as fallacious as another, for it is impossible to decide that certain of the Creator's works are more truly expressions of his character than the rest ; and the only selection which does not lead to immoral results, is the selection of those which most conduce to the general good, in other words, of those which point to an end which if the entire scheme is the expression of a single omnipotent and consistent will, is evidently not the end intended by it. There is however one particular element in the construction of the world, which to minds on the look-out for special indication of the Creator's will, has appeared, not without plausibility, peculiarly fitted to afford them ; viz. the active impulses of human and other animated beings. One can imagine such persons arguing that when the Author of Nature only made circumstances, he may not have meant to indicate the manner in which his rational creatures were to adjust themselves to those circumstances ; but that when he implanted positive stimuli in the creatures themselves, stirring them up to a particular kind of action, it is impossible to doubt that he intended that sort of action to be practised by them. This reasoning, fol- lowed out consistently, would lead to the conclusion that the Deity intended, and approves, whatever 44 NATURE human beings do ; since all that they do being the consequence of some of the impulses with which their Creator must have endowed them, all must equally be -considered as done in obedience to his will. As this practical conclusion was shrunk from, it was necessary to draw a distinction, and to pronounce that not the whole, but only parts of the active nature of mankind point to a special intention of the Creator in respect to their conduct. These parts it seemed natural to suppose, must be those in which the Creator's hand is manifested rather than the man's own : and hence the frequent antithesis between man as Grod made him, and man as he has made himself. Since what is done with deliberation seems more the man's own act, and he is held more completely responsible for it than for what he does from sudden impulse, the considerate part of human conduct is apt to be set down as man's share in the business, and the incon- siderate as God's. The result is the vein of senti- ment so common in the modern world (though unknown to the philosophic ancients) which exalts instinct at the expense of reason ; an aberration rendered still more mischievous by the opinion commonly held in con- junction with it, that every, or almost every, feeling or impulse which acts promptly without waiting to ask questions, is an instinct. Thus almost every variety of unreflecting and uncalculating impulse receives a kind of consecration, except those which, NATURE 45 though unreflecting at the moment, owe their origin to previous habits of reflection : these, being evidently not instinctive, do not meet with the favour accorded to the rest ; so that all unreflecting impulses are invested with authority over reason, except the only ones which are most probably right. I do not mean, of course, that this mode of judgment is even pre- tended to be consistently carried out : life could not go on if it were not admitted that impulses must be controlled, and that reason ought to govern our actions. The pretension is not to drive Reason from the helm but rather to bind her by articles to steer only in a particular way. Instinct is not to govern, but reason is to practise some vague and unassignable amount of deference to Instinct. Though the impression in favour of instinct as being a peculiar manifestation of the divine purposes, has not been cast into the form of a consistent general theory, it remains a standing prejudice, capable of being stirred np into hostility to reason in any case in which the dictate of the rational faculty has not acquired the authority of prescription. I shall not here enter into the difficult psychological question, what are, or are not instincts : the subject would require a volume to itself. Without touching upon any disputed theoretical points, it is possible to judge how little worthy is the instinctive part of human nature to be held up as its chief excellence — as the part in which the hand of infinite goodness and wisdom is 46 NATURE peculiarly visible. Allowing everything to be an instinct which anybody has ever asserted to be one, it remains true that nearly every respectable attribute of humanity is the result not of instinct, but of a victory over instinct ; and that there is hardly anything valuable in the natural man except capacities — a whole world of possibilities, all of them dependent upon eminently artificial discipline for being realized. It is only in a highly artificialized condition of human nature that the notion grew up, or, I believe, ever could have grown up, that goodness was natural : because only after a long course of artificial education did good sentiments become so habitual, and so predominant over bad, as to arise unprompted when occasion called for them. In the times when man- kind were nearer to their natural state, cultivated observers regarded the natural man as a sort of wild animal, distinguished chiefly by being craftier than the other beasts of the field ; and all worth of charac- ter was deemed the result of a sort of taming; a phrase often applied by the ancient philosophers to the appropriate discipline of human beings. The truth is that there is hardly a single point of excel- lence belonging to human character, which is not decidedly repugnant to the untutored feelings of human nature. If there be a virtue which more than any other we expect to find, and really do find, in an uncivilized NATURE 47 state, it is the virtue of courage. Yet this is from first to last a victory achieved over one of the most powerful emotions of human nature. If there is any one feeling or attribute more natural than all others to human beings, it is fear ; and no greater proof can be given of the power of artificial discipline than the conquest which it has at all times and places shown itself capable of achieving over so mighty and so universal a sentiment. The widest difference no doubt exists between one human being and another in the facility or difficulty with which they acquire this virtue. There is hardly any department of human excellence in which difference of original temperament goes so far. But it may fairly be questioned if any human being is naturally courageous. Many are natu- rally pugnacious, or irascible, or enthusiastic, and these passions when strongly excited may render them in- sensible to fear. But take away the conflicting emotion, and fear reasserts its dominion : consistent courage is always the effect of cultivation. The courage which is occasionally though by no means generally found among tribes of savages, is as much the result of education as that of the Spartans or Eomans. In all such tribes there is a most emphatic direction of the public sentiment into every channel of expression through which honour can be paid to courage and cowardice held up to contempt and de- rision. It will perhaps be said, that as the expression 48 NATURE of a sentiment implies the sentiment itself, the train- ing of the young to courage presupposes an originally courageous people. It presupposes only what all good customs presuppose — that there must have been in- dividuals better than the rest, who set the customs going. Some individuals, who like other people had fears to conquer, must have had strength of mind and will to conquer them for themselves. These would obtain the influence belonging to heroes, for that which is at once astonishing and obviously useful never fails to be admired : and partly through this admiration, partly through the fear they themselves excite, they would obtain the power of legislators, and could establish whatever customs they pleased. Let us next consider a quality which forms the most visible, and one of the most radical of the moral dis- tinctions between human beings and most of the lower animals ; that of which the absence, more than of anything else, renders men bestial; the quality of cleanliness. Can anything be more entirely artificial? Children, and the lower classes of most countries, seem to be actually fond of dirt : the vast majority of the human race are indifferent to it : whole nations of otherwise civilized and cultivated human beings tolerate it in some of its worst forms, and only a very small minority are consistently offended by it. Indeed the universal law of the subject appears to be, that un- cleanliness offends only those to whom it is unfamiliar, NATUKE 49 so that those who have lived in so artificial a state as to be unused to it in any form, are the sole persons whom it disgusts in all forms. Of all virtues this is the most evidently not instinctive, but a triumph over instinct. Assuredly neither cleanliness nor the love of cleanliness is natural to man, but only the capacity of acquiring a love of cleanliness. Our examples have thus far been taken from the personal, or as they are called by Bentham, the self regarding virtues, because these, if any, might be sup- posed to be congenial even to the uncultivated mind. Of the social virtues it is almost superfluous to speak ; so completely is it the verdict of all experience that selfishness is natural. By this I do not in any wise mean to den}^ that sympathy is natural also ; I believe on the contrary that on that important fact rests the possibility of any cultivation of goodness and noble- ness, and the hope of their ultimate entire ascendancy. But sympathetic characters, left uncultivated, and given up to their sympathetic instincts, are as selfish as others. The difference is in the kind oi selfishness : theirs is not solitary but sympathetic selfishness ; Tego'isme a deux, a trois, or a quatre ; and they may be very amiable and delightful to those with whom they sympathize, and grossly unjust and unfeeling to the rest of the world. Indeed the finer nervous orga- nizations which are most capable of and most require S}'mpathy, have, from their fineness, so much stronger 50 NATURE impulses of all sorts, that they often furnish the most striking examples of selfishness, though of a less repul- sive kind than that of colder natures. Whether there ever was a person in whom, apart from all teaching of instructors, friends or books, and from all inten- tional self-modelling according to an ideal, natural benevolence was a more powerful attribute than self- ishness in any of its forms, may remain undecided. That such cases are extremely rare, every one must admit, and this is enough for the argument. But (to speak no further of self-control for the benefit of others) the commonest self-control for one's own benefit- — that power of sacrificing a present desire to a distant object or a general purpose which is indis- pensable for making the actions of the individual ac- cord with his own notions of his individual good ; even this is most unnatural to the undisciplined human being : as may be seen by the long apprentice- ship which children serve to it ; the very imper- fect manner in which it is acquired by persons born to power, whose will is seldom resisted, and by all who have been early and much indulged; and the marked absence of the quality in savages, in soldiers and sailors, and in a somewhat less degree in nearly the whole of the poorer classes in this and many other countries. The principal difference, on the point under consideration, between this virtue and others, is that although, like them, it requires a course of teach- NATURE 51 ing, it is more susceptible than most of them of being self-taught. The axiom is trite that self-control is only learnt by experience : and this endowment is only thus much nearer to being natural than the others we have spoken of, inasmuch as personal experience, without external inculcation, has a certain tendency to engender it. Nature does not of herself bestow this, any more than other virbues : but nature often administers the rewards and punishments which cul- tivate it, and which in other cases have to be created artificially for the express purpose. Veracity might seem, of all virtues, to have the most plausible claim to being natural, since in the ab- sence of motives to the contrary, speech usually con- forms to, or at least does not intentionally deviate from, fact. Accordingly this is the virtue with which writers like Rousseau delight in decorating savage life, and setting it in advantageous contrast with the treachery and trickery of civilization. Unfortunately this is a mere fancy picture, contradicted by all the realities of savage life. Savages are always liars. They have not the faintest notion of truth as a virtue. They have a notion of not betraying to their hurt, as of not hurting in any other way, persons to whom they are bound by some special tie of obligation; their chief, their guest, perhaps, or their friend : these feelings of obligation being the taught morality of the savage state, growing out of its characteristic eir- E 52 NATURE cum stances. But of any point of honour respecting truth for truth's sake, they have not the remotest idea ; no more than the whole East, and the greater part of Europe : and in the few countries which are sufficiently improved to have such a point of honour, it is con- fined to a small minority, who alone, under any cir- cumstances of real temptation practise it. From the general use of the expression " natural justice," it must be presumed that justice is a virtue generally thought to be directly implanted by nature. I believe, however, that the sentiment of justice is entirely of artificial origin ; the idea of natural justice not preceding but following that of conventional justice. The farther we look back into the early modes of thinking of the human race, whether we consider ancient times (including those of the Old Testament) or the portions of mankind who are still in no more advanced a condition than that of ancient times, the more completely do we find men's notions of justice defined and bounded by the express ap- pointment of law. A man's just rights, meant the rights which the law gave him : a just man, was he who never infringed, nor sought to infringe, the legal property or other legal rights of others. The notion of a higher justice, to which laws themselves are amenable, and by which the conscience is bound with- out a positive prescription of law, is a later extension of the idea, suggested bjr, and following the analogy NATUTtE 53 of, legal justice, to which it maintains a parallel direction through all the shades and varieties of the sentiment, and from which it borrows nearly the whole of its phraseology. The very words Justus and justitia are derived from jus, law. Courts of justice, administration of justice, always mean the tribunals. If it be said, that there must be the germs of all these virtues in human nature, otherwise mankind would be incapable of acquiring them, I am ready, with a certain amount of explanation, to admit the fact. But the weeds that dispute the ground with these beneficent germs, are themselves not germs but rankly luxuriant growths, and would, in all but some one case in a thousand, entirely stifle and destroy the former, were it not so strongly the interest of man- kind to cherish the good germs in one another, that they always do so,inas far as their degree of intelligence (in this as in other respects still very imperfect) allows. It is through such fostering, commenced early, and not counteracted by unfavourable influences, that, in some happily circumstanced specimens of the human race, the most elevated sentiments of which humanity is capable become a second nature, stronger than the first, and not so much subduing the original nature as merging it into itself. Even those gifted organiza- tions which have attained the like excellence by self- culture, owe it essentially to the same cause ; for what self-culture would be possible without aid from E 2 54 NATURE the general sentiment of mankind delivered through books, and from the contemplation of exalted characters real or ideal ? This artificially created or at least artificially perfected nature of the best and noblest human beings, is the only nature which it is ever com- mendable to follow. It is almost superfluous to say that even this cannot be erected into a standard of con- duct, since it is itself the fruit of a training and culture the choice of which, if rational and not accidental, must have been determined by a standard already chosen. This brief survey is amply sufficient to prove that the duty of man is the same in respect to his own nature as in respect to the nature of all other things, namely not to follow but to amend it. Some people however who do not attempt to deny that instinct ought to be subordinate to reason, pay deference to nature so far as to maintain that every natural incli- nation must have some sphere of action granted to it, some opening left for its gratification. All natural wishes, they say, must have been implanted for a purpose : and this argument is carried so far, that we often hear it maintained that every wish, which it is supposed to be natural to entertain, must have a corresponding provision in the order of the universe for its gratification : insomuch (for instance) that the desire of an indefinite prolongation of existence, is believed by many to be in itself a sufficient proof of the reality of a future life. NATURE 55 I conceive that there is a radical absurdity in all these attempts to discover, in detail, what are the designs of Providence, in order when they are dis- covered to help Providence in bringing them about. Those who argue, from particular indications, that Providence intends this or that, either believe that the Creator can do all that he will or that he cannot. If the firs I supposition is adopted — if Providence is omnipotent, Providence intends whatever happens, and the fact of its happening proves that Providence intended it. If so, everything which a human being can do, is predestined by Providence and is a fulfil- ment of its designs. But if as is the more religious theory, Providence intends not all which happens, but only what is good, then indeed man has it in his power, by his voluntary actions, to aid the intentions of Providence ; but he can only learn those intentions by considering what tends to promote the general good, and not what man has a natural inclination to ; for, limited as, on this showing, the divine power must be, by inscrutable but insurmountable obstacles, who knows that man could have been created without desires which never are to be, and even which never ought to be, fulfilled ? The inclinations with which man has been endowed, as well as any of the other con- trivances which we observe in Nature, may be the expression not of the divine will, but of the fetters which impede its free action j and to take hints from 56 NATURE these for the guidance of our own conduct may be falling into a trap laid by the enemy. The assump- tion that everything which infinite goodness can desire, actually comes to pass in this universe, or at least that we must never say or suppose that it does not, is worthy only of those whose slavish fears make them offer the homage of lies to a Being who, they profess to think, is incapable of being deceived and holds all falsehood in abomination. With regard to this particular hypothesis, that all natural impulses, all propensities sufficiently universal and sufficiently spontaneous to be capable of passing for instincts, must exist for good ends, and ought to be only regulated, not repressed ; this is of course true of the majority of them, for the species could not have continued to exist unless most of its inclinations had been directed to things needful or useful for its .preservation. But unless the instincts can be reduced to a very small number indeed, it must be allowed that we have also bad instincts which it should be the aim of education not simply to regulate but to extirpate, or rather (what can be done even to an instinct) to starve them by disuse. Those who are inclined to multiply the number of instincts, usually include among them one which they call destructive- ness : an instinct to destroy for destruction's sake. I can conceive no good reason for preserving this, no more than another propensity which if not an instinct NATURE 57 is very like one, what has "been called the instinct of domination ; a delight in exercising despotism, in holding other beings in subjection to our will. The man who takes pleasure in the mere exertion of authority, apart from the purpose for which it is to be employed, is the last person in whose hands one would willingly entrust it. Again, there are persons who are cruel by character, or, as the phrase is, naturally cruel ; who have a real pleasure in inflicting, or seeing the infliction of pain. This kind of cruelty is not mere hardheartedness, absence of pity or re- morse ; it is a positive thing ; a particular kind of voluptuous excitement. The East, and Southern Europe, have afforded, and probably still afford, abundant examples of this hateful propensity. I sup- pose it will be granted that this is not one of the natural inclinations which it would be wrong to suppress. The only question would be whether it is not a duty to suppress the man himself along with it. But even if it were true that every one of the elementary impulses of human nature has its good side, and may by a sufficient amount of artificial training be made more useful than hurtful ; how little would this amount to, when it must in any case be admitted that without such training all of them, even those which are necessary to our preservation, would fill the world with misery, making human life an exaggerated likeness of the odious scene of violence and tyranny 58 NATURE which is exhibited by the rest of the animal kingdom, except in so far as tamed and disciplined by man. There, indeed, those who natter themselves with the notion of reading the purposes of the Creator in his works, ought in consistency to have seen grounds for inferences from which they have shrunk. If there are any marks at all of special design in creation, one of the things most evidently designed is that a large proportion of all animals should pass their existence in tormenting and devouring other animals. They have been lavishly fitted out with the instruments necessary for that purpose ; their strongest instincts impel them to it, and many of them seem to have been constructed incapable of supporting themselves by any other food. If a tenth part of the pains which have been expended in finding benevolent adaptations in all nature, had been employed in collecting evidence to blacken the character of the Creator, what scope for comment would not have been found in the entire existence of the lower animals, divided, with scarcely an exception, into devourers and devoured, and a prey to a thousand ills from which they are denied the faculties necessary for protecting themselves ! If we are not obliged to believe the animal creation to be the work of a demon, it is because we need not sup- pose it to have been made by a Being of infinite power. But if imitation of the Creator's will as re- vealed in nature, were applied as a rule of action in NATURE 59 this case, the most atrocious enormities of the worst men would be more than justified by the apparent intention of Providence that throughout all animated nature the strong should prey upon the weak. The preceding observations are far from having exhausted the almost infinite variety of modes and occasions in which the idea of conformity to nature is introduced as an element into the ethical appre- ciation of actions and dispositions. The same favour- able prejudgment follows the word nature through the numerous acceptations, in which it is employed as a distinctive term for certain parts of the constitution of humanity as contrasted with other parts. We have hitherto confined ourselves to one of these accep- tations, in which it stands as a general designation for those parts of our mental and moral constitution which are supposed to be innate, in contradistinction to those which are acquired ; as when nature is contrasted with education; or when a savage state, without laws, arts, or knowledge, is called a state of nature ; or when the question is asked whether benevolence, or the moral sentiment, is natural or acquired ; or whether some persons are poets or orators by nature and others not. But in another and a more lax sense, any manifesta- tions by human beings are often termed natural, when it is merely intended to say that they are not studied or designedly assumed in the particular case ; as when a person is said, to move or speak with natural grace ; 60 NATURE or when it is said that a person's natural manner 01 character is so and so ; meaning that it is so when he- does not attempt to control or disguise it. In a still looser acceptation, a person is said to be naturally, that which he was until some special cause had acted upon him, or which it is supposed he would be if some such cause were withdrawn. Thus a person is said to be naturally dull, but to have made himself intel- ligent by study and perseverance ; to be naturally cheerful, but soured by misfortune ; naturally ambi- tious, but kept down by want of opportunity. Finally, the word natural, applied to feelings or conduct, often seems to mean no more than that they are such as are ordinarily found in human beings ; as when it is said that a person acted, on some particular occasion, as it was natural to do ; or that to be affected in a parti- cular way by some sight, or sound, or thought, or incident in life, is perfectly natural. In all these senses of the term, the quality called na- tural is very often confessedly a worse quality than the •one contrasted with it ; but whenever its being so is not too obvious to be questioned, the idea seems to be entertained that by describing it as natural, something has been said amounting to a considerable presump- tion in its favour. For my part I can perceive only one sense in which nature, or naturalness, in a human being, are really terms of praise ; and then the praise is only negative : namely when used to denote the NATURE 61 absence of affectation. Affectation may be defined, the effort to appear what one is not, when the motive or the occasion is not such as either to excuse the attempt, or to stamp ib with the more odious name of hypocrisy. It must be added that the deception is often attempted to be practised on the deceiver him- self as well as on others ; he imitates the external signs of qualities which he would like to have, in hopes to persuade himself that he has them. Whether in the form of deception or of self-deception, or of something hovering between the two, affectation is very rightly accounted a reproach, and naturalness, understood as the reverse of affectation, a merit. But a more proper term by which to express this estimable quality would be sincerity ; a term which has fallen from its original elevated meaning, and popularly de- notes only a subordinate branch of the cardinal virtue it once designated as a whole. Sometimes also, in cases where the term affectation would be inappropriate, since the conduct or demeanour spoken of is really praiseworthy, people say in dis- paragement of the person concerned, that such conduct or demeanour is not natural to him ; and make uncom- plimentary comparisons between him and some other person, to whom it is natural : meaning that what in the one seemed excellent was the effect of temporary excitement, or of a great victory over himself, while in the other it is the result to be expected from the 62 NATURE habitual character. This mode of speech is not open to censure, since nature is here simply a term for the person's ordinary disposition, and if he is praised it is not for being natural, but for being naturally good. Conformity to nature, has no connection whatever with right and wrong. The idea can never be fitly introduced into ethical discussions at all, except, oc- casionally and partially, into the question of degrees of culpability. To illustrate this point, let us con- sider the phrase by which the greatest intensity of condemnatory feeling is conveyed in connection with the idea of nature — the word unnatural. That a thing is unnatural, in any precise meaning which can be attached to the word, is no argument for its being blamable ; since the most criminal actions are to a being like man, not more unnatural than most of the virtues. The acquisition of virtue has in all ages been accounted a work of labour and difficulty, while the descensus Averni on the contrary is of proverbial facility : and it assuredly requires in most persons a greater conquest over a greater number of natural in- clinations to become eminently virtuous than tran- scendently vicious. But if an action, or an inclination, has been decided on other grounds to be blamable, it may be a circumstance in aggravation that it is unnatural, that is, repugnant to some strong feeling usually found in human beings ; since the bad pro- NATURE 63 pensity, whatever it be, has afforded evidence of being both strong and deeply rooted, by having overcome that repugnance. This presnmption of course fails if the individual never had the repugnance : and the argument, therefore, is not fit to be urged unless the feeling which is violated by the act, is not only justi- fiable and reasonable, bat is one which it is blamable to be without. The corresponding plea in extenuation of a culpable act because it was natural, or because it was prompted by a natural feeling, never, I think, ought to be admitted. There is hardly a bad action ever perpe- trated which is not perfectly natural, and the motives to which are not perfectly natural feelings. In the eye of reason, therefore, this is no excuse, but it is quite " natural " that it should be so in the eyes of the multitude ; because the meaning of the expression is, that they have a fellow feeling with the offender. When they say that something which they cannot help admitting to be blamable, is nevertheless natural, they mean that they can imagine the possibility of their being themselves tempted to commit it. Most people have a considerable amount of indulgence towards all acts of which they feel a possible source within them- selves, reserving their rigour for those which, though perhaps really less bad, they cannot in any way under- stand how it is possible to commit. If an action convinces them (which it oftens does on very inadequate 64 NATURE grounds) that the person who does it must be a being totally unlike themselves, they are seldom particular in examining the precise degree of blame due to it, or even if blame is properly due to it at all. They measure the degree of guilt by the strength of their antipathy ; and hence differences of opinion, and even differences of taste, have been objects of as intense moral abhorrence as the most atrocious crimes. It will be useful to sum up in a few words the leading conclusions of this Essay. The word Nature has two principal meanings: it either denotes the entire system of things, with the aggregate of all their properties, or it denotes things as they would be, apart from human intervention. In the first of these senses, the doctrine that man ought to follow nature is unmeaning ; since man has no power to do anything else than follow nature ; all his actions are done through, and in obedience to, some one or many of nature's physical or mental laws. In the other sense of the term, the doctrine that man ought to follow nature, or in other words, ought to make the spontaneous course of things the model of his voluntary actions, is equally irrational and im- moral. Irrational, because all human action whatever, con- sists in altering, and all useful action in improving, the spontaneous course of nature : NATURE 65 Immoral, because the course of natural phenomena being replete with everything which when committed by human beings is most worthy of abhorrence, any one who endeavoured in his actions to imitate the natural course of things would be universally seen and acknowledged to be the wickedest of men. The scheme of Nature regarded in its whole extent, cannot have had, for its sole or even principal object, the good of human or other sentient beings. What good it brings to them, is mostly the result of their own exertions. Whatsoever, in nature, gives indica- tion of beneficent design, proves this beneficence to be armed only with limited power ; and the duty of man is to co-operate with the beneficent powers, not by imitating but by perpetually striving to amend the course of nature — and bringing that part of it over which we can exercise control, more nearly into conformity with a high standard of justice and goodness. UTILITY OF RELIGION UTILITY OF RELIGION IT has sometimes been remarked how much has been written, both by friends and enemies, concerning the truth of religion, and how little, at least in the way of discussion or controversy, concerning its use- fulness. This, however, might have been expected ; for the truth, in matters which so deeply affect us, is our first concernment. If religion, or any particular form of it, is true, its usefulness follows without other proof. If to know authentically in what order of things, under what government of the universe it is our destiny to live, were not useful, it is difficult to imagine what could be considered so. Whether a person is in a pleasant or in an unpleasant place, a palace or a prison, it cannot be otherwise than useful to him to know where he is. So long, therefore, as men accepted the teachings of their religion as posi- tive facts, no more a matter of doubt than their own existence or the existence of the objects around them, f2 70 UTILITY OF RELIGION to ask the use of believing it could not possibly occur to them. The utility of religion did not need to be asserted until the arguments for its truth had in a great measure ceased to convince. People must either have ceased to believe, or have ceased to rely on the belief of others, before they could take that inferior ground of defence without a consciousness of lowering what they were endeavouring to raise. An argument for the utility of religion is an appeal to unbelievers, to induce them to practise a well meant hypocrisy, or to semi- belie vers to make them avert their eyes from what might possibly shake their unstable belief, or finally to persons in general to abstain from express- ing any doubts they may feel, since a fabric of im- mense importance to mankind is so insecure at its foundations, that men must hold their breath in its neighbourhood for fear of blowing it down. In the present period of history, however, we seem to have arrived at a time when, among the arguments for and against religion, those which relate to its use- fulness assume an important place. We are in an age of weak beliefs, and in which such belief as men have is much more determined by their wish to be- lieve than by any mental appreciation of evidence. The wish to believe does not arise only from selfish but often from the most disinterested feelings ; and though it cannot produce the unwavering and perfect reliance which once existed, it fences round ail that UTILITY OF RELIGION 71 remains of the impressions of early education ; it often causes direct misgivings to fade away by disuse ; and above all, it induces people to continue laying out their lives according to doctrines which have lost part of their hold on the mind, and to maintain towards the world the same, or a rather more demonstrative attitude of belief, than they thought it necessary to exhibit when their personal conviction was more complete. If religious belief be indeed so necessary to man- kind, as we are continually assured that it is, there is great reason to lament, that the intellectual grounds of it should require to be backed by moral bribery or subornation of the understanding. Such a state of things is most uncomfortable even for those who may, without actual insincerity, describe themselves as be- lievers ; and still worse as regards those who, having consciously ceased to find the evidences of religion convincing, are withheld from saying so lest they should aid in doing an irreparable injury to mankind. It is a most painful position to a conscientious and cultivated mind, to be drawn in contrary directions by the two noblest of all objects of pursuit, truth, and the general good. Such a conflict must inevitably produce a growing indifference to one or other of these objects, most probably to both. Many who could render giant's service both to truth and to mankind if they believed that they could serve the 72 UTILITY OF RELIGION one without loss to the other, are either totally para- lysed, or led to confine their exertions to matters of minor detail, by the apprehension that any real free- dom of speculation, or any considerable strengthening or enlargement of the thinking faculties of mankind at large, might, by making them unbelievers, be the surest way to render them vicious and miserable. Many, again, having observed in others or experienced in themselves elevated feelings which they imagine incapable of emanating from any other source than religion, have an honest aversion to anything tending, as they think, to dry up the fountain of such feelings. They, therefore, either dislike and disparage all philo- sophy, or addict themselves with intolerant zeal to those forms of it in which intuition usurps the place of evidence, and internal feeling is made the test of objective truth. The whole of the prevalent meta- physics of the present century is one tissue of suborned evidence in favour of religion; often of Deism only, but in any case involving a misapplica- tion of noble impulses and speculative capacities, among the most deplorable of those wretched wastes of human faculties which make us wonder that enough is left to keep mankind progressive, at however slow a pace. It is time to consider, more impartially and therefore more deliberately than is usually done, whether all this straining to prop up beliefs which require so great an expense of intellectual toil and UTILITY OF RELIGION 73 ingenuity to keep them standing, yields any sufficient return in human well being ; and whether that end would not be better served by a frank recognition that certain subjects are inaccessible to our faculties, and by the application of the same mental powers to the strengthening and enlargement of those other sources of virtue and happiness which stand in no need of the support or sanction of supernatural beliefs and inducements. Neither, on the other hand, can the difficulties of the question be so promptly disposed of, as sceptical philosophers are sometimes inclined to believe. It is not enough to aver, in general terms, that there never can be any conflict between truth and utility ; that if religion be false, nothing but good can be the consequence of rejecting it. For, though the know- ledge of every positive truth is an useful acquisition, this doctrine cannot without reservation be applied to negative truth. "When the only truth ascertainable is that nothing can be known, we do not, by this knowledge, gain any new fact by which to guide ourselves ; we are, at best, only disabused of our trust in some former guide-mark, which, though itself fallacious, may have pointed in the same direction with the best indications we have, and if it happens to be more conspicuous and legible, may have kept us right when they might have been over- looked. It is, in short, perfectly conceivable that 74 UTILITY OF RELIGION religion may be morally useful without being intel- lectually sustainable : and it would be a proof of great prejudice in any unbeliever to deny, that there have been ages, and that there are still both nations and individuals, with regard to whom this is actually the case. Whether it is the case generally, and with reference to the future, it is the object of this paper to examine. We propose to inquire whether the belief in religion, considered as a mere persuasion, apart from the question of its truth, is really indis- pensable to the temporal welfare of mankind ; whether the usefulness of the belief is intrinsic and universal, or local, temporary, and, in some sense, accidental ; and whether the benefits which it yields might not be obtained otherwise, without the very large alloy of evil, by which, even in the best form of the belief, those benefits are qualified. With the arguments on one side of the question we all are familiar : religious writers have not neglected to celebrate to the utmost the advantages both of religion in general and of their own religious faith in particular. But those who have held the contrary opinion have generally contented them- selves with insisting on the more obvious and flagrant of the positive evils which have been engen- dered by past and present forms of religious belief. And, in truth, mankind have been so unremittingly occupied in doing evil to one another in the name UTILITY OF RELIGION 75 of religion, from the sacrifice of Iphigenia to the Dragonnades of Louis XIV. (not to descend lower), that for any immediate purpose there was little need to seek arguments further off. These odious con- sequences, however, do not belong to religion in itself, but to particular forms of it, and afford no argument against the usefulness of any religions except those by which such enormities are encou- raged. Moreover, the worst of these evils are already in a great measure extirpated from the more im- proved forms of religion ; and as mankind advance in ideas and in feelings, this process of extirpation continually goes on : the immoral, or otherwise mis- chievous consequences which have been drawn from religion, are, one by one, abandoned, and, after having been long fought for as of its very essence, are dis- covered to be easily separable from it. These mis- chiefs, indeed, after they are past, though no longer arguments against religion, remain valid as large abatements from its beneficial influence, by showing that some of the greatest improvements ever made in the moral sentiments of mankind have taken place without it and in spite of it, and that what we are taught to regard as the chief of all improving influ- ences, "has in practice fallen so far short of such a character, that one of the hardest burdens laid upon the other good influences of human nature has been that of improving religion itself. The improvement, 76 UTILITY OF RELIGION however, has taken place ; it is still proceeding, and for the sake of fairness it should be assumed to be complete. We ought to suppose religion to have accepted the best human morality which reason and goodness can work out, from philosophical, christian, or any other elements. When it has thus freed itself from the pernicious consequences which result from its identification with any bad moral doctrine, the ground is clear for considering whether its useful properties are exclusively inherent in it, or their benefits can be obtained without it. This essential portion of the inquiry into the tem- poral usefulness of religion, is the subject of the present Essay. It is a part which has been little treated of by sceptical writers. The only direct discussion of it with which I am acquainted, is in a short treatise, understood to have been partly compiled from manu- scripts of Mr. Bentham,* and abounding in just and profound views; but which, as it appears to me, presses many parts of the argument too hard. This treatise, and the incidental remarks scattered through the writings of M. Comte, are the only sources known to me from which anything very pertinent to the subject can be made available for the sceptical side of the argument. I shall use both of them freely in the sequel of the present discourse. * " Analysis of the Influence of Natural Religion on the Temporal Happiness of Mankind." By Philip Beauchamp. UTILITY OF RELIGION 77 * The inquiry divides itself into two parts, cor- responding to the double aspect of the subject; its social, and its individual aspect. What does religion do for society, and what for the individual? What amount of benefit to social interests, in the ordinary sense of the phrase, arises from religious belief? And what influence has it in improving and ennobling indi- vidual human nature ? The first question is interesting to everybody ; the latter only to the best ; but to them it is, if there be any difference, the more important of the two. We shall begin with the former, as being that which best admits of being easily brought to a precise issue. To speak first, then, of religious belief as an instru- ment of social good. We must commence by drawing a distinction most commonly overlooked. It is usual to credit religion as such with the whole of the power inherent in any system of moral duties inculcated by education and enforced by opinion. Undoubtedly mankind would be in a deplorable state if no prin- ciples or precepts of justice, veracity, beneficence, were taught publicly or privately, and if these virtues were not encouraged, and the opposite vices repressed, by the praise and blame, the favourable and unfavour- able sentiments, of mankind. And since nearly every- thing of this sort which does take place, takes place in the name of religion ; since almost all who are taught any morality whatever, have it taught to them as religion, and inculcated on them through life prin- 78 UTILITY OF RELIGION cipally in that character • the effect which the teaching produces as teaching, it is supposed to produce as reli- gious teaching, and religion receives the credit of all the influence in human affairs which belongs to any generally accepted system of rules for the guidance and government of human life. Few persons have sufficiently considered how great an influence this is ; what vast efficacy belongs natu- rally to any doctrine received with tolerable unanimity as true, and impressed on the mind from the earliest childhood as duty. A little reflection will, I think, lead us to the conclusion that it is this which is the great moral power in human affairs, and that religion only seems so powerful because this mighty power has been under its command. Consider first, the enormous influence of authority on the human mind. I am now speaking of involuntary influence; effect on men's conviction, on their per- suasion, on their involuntary sentiments. Authority is the evidence on which the mass of mankind believe everything which they are said to know, except facts of which their own senses have taken cognizance. It is the evidence on which even the wisest receive all those truths of science, or facts in history or in life, of which they have not personally examined the proofs. Over the immense majority of human beings, the general concurrence of mankind, in any matter of opinion, is all powerful. Whatever is thus certified to UTILITY OF RELIGION 79 them, they helieve with a fulness of assurance which they do not accord even to the evidence of their senses when the general opinion of mankind stands in opposition to it. "When, therefore, any rule of life and duty, whether grounded or not on religion, has conspicuously received the general assent, it obtains a hold on the belief of every individual, stronger than it would have even if he had arrived at it by the in- herent force of his own understanding. If Novalis could say, not without a real meaning, " My belief has gained infinitely to me from the moment when one other human being has begun to believe the same," how much more when it is not one other person, but all the human beings whom one knows of. Some may urge it as an objection, that no scheme of morality has this universal assent, and that none, therefore, can be indebted to this source for whatever power it possesses over the mind. So far as relates to the present age, the assertion is true, and strengthens the argument which it might at first seem to contro- vert ; for exactly in proportion as the received systems of belief have been contested, and it has become known that they have many dissentients, their hold on the general belief has been loosened, and their practical influence on conduct has declined : and since this has happened to them notwithstanding the re- ligious sanction which attached to them, there can be no stronger evidence that they were powerful not as 80 UTILITY OF RELIGION religion, but as beliefs generally accepted by mankind. To find people who believe their religion as a person believes that fire will bum his hand when thrust into it, we must seek them in those Oriental countries where Europeans do not yet predominate, or in the European world when it was still universally Catholic. Men often disobeyed their religion in those times, because their human passions and appetites were too strong for it, or because the religion itself afforded means of indulgence to breaches of its obligations; but though they disobeyed, they, for the most part, did not doubt. There was in those days an absolute and unquestioning completeness of belief, never since general in Europe. Such being the empire exercised over mankind by simple authority, the mere belief and testimony of their fellow creatures • consider next how tremendous is the power of education; how unspeakable is the effect of bringing people up from infancy in a belief, and in habits founded on it. Consider also that in all countries, and from the earliest ages down to the present, not merely those who are called, in a re- stricted sense of the term, the educated, but all or nearly all who have been brought up by parents, or by any one interested in them, have been taught from their earliest years some kind of religious belief, and some precepts as the commands of the heavenly powers to them and to mankind. And as it cannot UTILITY OF RELIGION 81 be imagined that the commands of God are to young children anything more than the commands of their parents, it is reasonable to think that any system of social duty which mankind might adopt, even though divorced from religion, would have the same advan- tage of being inculcated from childhood, and would have it hereafter much more perfectly than any doc- trine has it at present, society being far more disposed than formerly to take pains for the moral tuition of those numerous classes whose education it has hitherto left very much to chance. Now it is especially cha- racteristic of the impressions of early education, that they possess what it is so much more difficult for later convictions to obtain — command over the feel- ings. We see daily how powerful a hold these first impressions retain over the feelings even of those, who have given up the opinions which they were early taught. "While on the other hand, it is only persons of a much higher degree of natural sensibility and intellect combined than it is at all common to meet with, whose feelings entwine them- selves with anything like the same force round opinions which they have adopted from their own in- vestigations later in life ; and even when they do, we may say with truth that it is because the strong sense of moral duty, the sincerity, courage and self-devotion which enabled them to do so, were themselves the fruits of early impressions. 82 UTILITY OF RELIGION Tlie power of education is almost boundless : there is not one natural inclination which it is not strong enough to coerce, and, if needful, to destroy by disuse. In the greatest recorded victory which education has ever achieved over a whole host of natural inclinations in an entire people — the maintenance through cen- turies of the institutions of Lycurgus, — it was very little, if even at all, indebted to religion : for the Gods of the Spartans were the same as those of other Greek states ; and though, no doubt, every state of Greece believed that its particular polity had at its first establishment, some sort of divine sanction (mostly that of the Delphian oracle), there was seldom any difficulty in obtaining the same or an equally power- ful sanction for a change. It was not religion which formed the strength of the Spartan institutions : the root of the system was devotion to Sparta, to the ideal of the country or State : which transformed into ideal devotion to a greater country, the world, would be equal to that and far nobler achievements. Among the Greeks generally, social morality was extremely independent of religion. The inverse relation was rather that which existed between them ; the worship of the Gods was inculcated chiefly as a social duty, in- asmuch as if they were neglected or insulted, it was believed that their displeasure would fall not more upon the offending individual than upon the state or com- munity which bred and tolerated him. Such moral UTILITY OF RELIGION 83 teaching as existed in Greece had very little to do with religion. The Grods were not supposed to con- cern themselves much with men's conduct to one another, except when men had contrived to make the Grods themselves an interested party, by placing an assertion or an engagement under the sanction of a solemn appeal to them, by oath or vow. I grant that the sophists and philosophers, and even popular orators, did their best to press religion into the service of their special objects, and to make it be thought that the sentiments of whatever kind, which they were engaged in inculcating, were particularly acceptable to the Gods, but this never seems the primary con- sideration in any case save those of direct offence to the dignity of the Gods themselves. For the enforcement of human moralities secular inducements were almost exclusively relied on. The case of Greece is, I believe, the only one in which any teaching, other than religious, has had the unspeakable advantage of form- ing the basis of education : and though much may be said against the quality of some part of the teaching, very little can be said against its effectiveness. The most memorable example of the power of education over conduct, is afforded (as I have just remarked) by this exceptional case ; constituting a strong presump- tion that in other cases, early religious teaching has owed its power over mankind rather to its being early than to its being religious. 84 UTILITY OF RELIGION We have now considered two powers, that of au- thority, and that of early education, which operate through men's involuntary beliefs, feelings and desires, and which religion has hitherto held as its almost exclusive appanage. Let us now consider a third power which operates directly on their actions, whether their involuntary sentiments are carried with it or not. This is the power of public opinion ; of the praise and blame, the favour and disfavour, of their fellow creatures; and is a source of strength inherent in any system of moral belief which is generally adopted, whether connected with religion or not. Men are so much accustomed to give to the motives that decide their actions, more nattering names than justly belong to them, that they are generally quite unconscious how much those parts of their conduct which they most pride themselves on (as well as some which they are ashamed of), are determined by the motive of public opinion. Of course public opinion for the most part enjoins the same things which are enjoined by the received social morality ; that morality being, in truth, the summary of the conduct which each one of the multitude, whether he himself ob- serves it with any strictness or not, desires that others should observe towards him. People are therefore easily able to natter themselves that thej' are acting from the motive of conscience when they are doing UTILITY OF RELIGION 85 in obedience to the inferior motive, things which their conscience approves. We continually see how great is the power of opinion in opposition to conscience ; how men " follow a multitude to do evil ;" how often opinion induces them to do what their conscience dis- approves, and still oftener prevents them from doing what it commands. But when the motive of public opinion acts in the same direction with conscience, which, since it has usually itself made the conscience in the first instance, it for the most part naturally does ; it is then, of all motives which operate on the bulk of mankind, the most overpowering. The names of all the strongest passions (except the merely animal ones) manifested by human nature, are each of them a name for some one part only of the motive derived from what I here call public opinion. The love of glory ; the love of praise ; the love of admiration ; the love . of respect and deference ; even the love of sympathy, are portions of its attractive power. Vanity is a vituperative name for its attrac- tive influence generally, when considered excessive in degree. The fear of shame, the dread of ill repute or of being disliked or hated, are the direct and simple forms of its deterring power. But the deterring force of the unfavourable sentiments of mankind does not consist solely in the painfullness of knowing oneself to be the object of those sentiments; it includes all the penalties which they can inflict : exclusion from social G2 86 UTILITY OF RELIGION intercourse and from the innumerable good offices which human beings require from one another; the forfeiture of all that is called success in life ; often the great diminution or total loss of means of sub- sistence ; positive ill offices of various kinds, sufficient to render life miserable, and reaching in some states of society as far as actual persecution to death. And again the attractive, or impelling influence of public opinion, includes the whole range of what is com- monly meant by ambition : for, except in times of lawless military violence, the objects of social ambition can only be attained by means of the good opinion and favourable disposition of our fellow- creatures ; nor, in nine cases out of ten, would those objects be even desired, were it not for the power they confer over the sentiments of mankind. Even the pleasure of self-approbation, in the great majority, is mainly dependent on the opinion of others. Such is the involuntary influence of authority on ordinary minds, that persons must be of a better than ordinary mould to be capable of a full assurance that they are in the right, when the world, that is, when their world, thinks them wrong : nor is there, to most men, any proof so demonstrative of their own virtue or talent as that people in general seem to believe in it. Through all departments of human affairs, regard for the sentiments of our fellow-creatures is in one shape or other, in nearly all characters, the pervading UTILITY OF EELIGION 87 motive. And we ought to note that this motive is naturally strongest in the most sensitive natures, which are the most promising material for the for- mation of great virtues. How far its power reaches is known by too familiar experience to require either proof or illustration here. When once the means of living have been obtained, the far greater part of the remaining labour and effort which takes place on the earth, has for its object to acquire the respect or the favourable regard of mankind; to be looked up to, or at all events, not to be looked down upon by them. The industrial and commercial activity which advance civilization, the frivolity, prodigality, and selfish thirst of aggrandizement which retard it, flow equally from that source. While as an instance of the power, exercised by the terrors derived from public opinion, we know how many murders have been committed merely to remove a witness who knew and was likely to disclose some secret that would bring disgrace upon his murderer. Any one who fairly and impartially considers the subject, will see reason to believe that those great effects on human conduct, which are commonly ascribed to motives derived directly from religion, have mostly for their proximate cause the influence of human opinion. Religion has been powerful not by its intrinsic force, but because it has wielded that additional and more mighty power. The effect of 88 UTILITY OF RELIGION religion has been immense in giving a direction to public opinion : which has, in many most important respects, been wholly determined by it. But without the sanctions superadded by public opinion, its own proper sanctions have never, save in exceptional cha- racters, or in peculiar moods of mind, exercised a very potent influence, after the times had gone by, in which divine agency was supposed habitually to employ temporal rewards and punishments. When a man firmly believed that if he violated the sacred- ness of a particular sanctuary he would be struck dead on the spot, or smitten suddenly with a mortal disease, he doubtless took care not to incur the penalty : but when any one had had the courage to defy the danger, and escaped with impunity, the spell was broken. If ever any people were taught that they were under a divine government, and that unfaithfulness to their religion and law would be visited from above with temporal chastisements, the Jews were so. Yet their history was a mere succession of lapses into Paganism. Their prophets and his- torians, who held fast to the ancient beliefs (though they gave them so liberal an interpretation as to think it a sufficient manifestation of God's displeasure towards a king if any evil happened to his great grandson), never ceased to complain that their coun- trymen turned a deaf ear to their vaticinations ; and hence, with the faith they held in a divine govern- UTILITY OF RELIGION 89 merit operating by temporal penalties, they could not fail to anticipate (as Mirabeau's father without such prompting, was able to do on the eve of the French Revolution) la calbute generate; an expectation which, luckily for the credit of their prophetic powers, was fulfilled ; unlike that of the Apostle John, who in the only intelligible prophecy in the Eevelations, foretold to the city of the seven hills a fate like that of Nineveh and Babylon; which prediction remains to this hour unaccomplished. Unquestionably the con- viction which experience in time forced on all but the very ignorant, that divine punishments were not to be confidently expected in a temporal form, contributed much to the downfall of the old religions, and the general adoption of one which without abso- lutely excluding providential interferences in this life for the punishment of guilt or the reward of merit, removed the principal scene of divine retribution to a world after death. But rewards and punishments postponed to that distance of time, and never seen by the eye, are not calculated, even when infinite and eternal, to have, on ordinary minds, a very powerful effect in opposition to strong temptation. Their remoteness alone is a prodigious deduction from their efficacy, on such minds as those which most require the restraint of punishment. A still greater abate- ment is their uncertainty, which belongs to them from the very nature of the case : for rewards and 90 UTILITY OF RELIGION punishments administered after death, must be awarded not definitely to particular actions, but on a general survey of the person's whole life, and he easily per- suades himself that whatever may have been his peccadilloes, there will be a balance in his favour at the last. All positive religions aid this self-delusion. Bad religions teach that divine vengeance may be bought off, by offerings, or personal abasement ; the better religions, not to drive sinners to despair, dwell so much on the divide mercy, that hardly any one is compelled to think himself irrevocably condemned. The sole quality in these punishments which might seem calculated to make them efficacious, their over- powering magnitude, is itself a reason why nobody (except a hypochondriac here and there) ever really believes that he is in any very serious danger of incurring them. Even the worst malefactor is hardly able to think that any crime he has had it in his power to commit, any evil he can have inflicted in this short space of existence, can have deserved torture extending through an eternity. Accordingly religious writers and preachers are ■ never tired of complaining how little effect religious motives have on men's lives and conduct, notwithstanding the tremendous penalties denounced. Mr. Bentham, whom I have already mentioned as one of the few authors who have written anything to the purpose on the efficacy of the religious sanction, UTILITY OF RELIGION 91 adduces several cases to prove that religious obligation, when not enforced by public opinion, produces scarcely any effect on conduct. His first example is that of oaths. The oaths taken in courts of justice, and any others which from the manifest importance to society of their being kept public opinion rigidly enforces, are felt as real and binding obligations. But univer- sity oaths and custom-house oaths, though in a religious point of view equally obligatory, are in practice utterly disregarded even by men in other respects honourable. The university oath to obey the statutes has been' for centuries, with universal acquiescence, set at nought : and utterly false state- ments are (or used to be) daily and unblushingly sworn to at the Custom-house, by persons as attentive as other people to all the ordinary obligations of life. The explanation being, that veracity in these cases was not enforced by public opinion. The second case which Bentham cites is duelling ; a practice now, in this country, obsolete, but in full vigour in several other christian countries; deemed and admitted to be a sin by almost all who, nevertheless, in obedience to opinion, and to escape from personal humiliation, are guilty of it. The third case is that of illicit sexual intercourse ; which in both sexes, stands in the very highest rank of religious sins, yet not being severely censured by opinion in the male sex, they have in general very little scruple in committing it j while in 92 UTILITY OF RELIGION the case of women, though the religious obligation is not stronger, yet being backed in real earnest by public opinion, it is commonly effectual. Some objection may doubtless be taken to Ben- tham's instances, considered as crucial experiments on the power of the religious sanction ; for (it may be said) people do not really believe that in these cases they shall be punished by Grod, any more than by man. And this is certainly true in the case of those university and other oaths, which are habitually taken without any intention of keeping them. The oath, in these cases, is regarded as a mere formality, desti- tute of any serious meaning in the sight of the Deity ; and the most scrupulous person, even if he does reproach himself for having taken an oath which nobody deems fit to be kept, does not in his con- science tax himself with the guilt of perjury, but only with the profanation of a ceremony. This, there- fore, is not a good example of the weakness of the religious motive when divorced from that of human opinion. The point which it illustrates is rather the tendency of the one motive to come and go with the other, so that where the penalties of public opinion cease, the religious motive ceases also. The same criticism, however, is not equally applicable to Bentham's other examples, duelling, and sexual irregularities. Those who do these acts, the first by the command of public opinion, the latter with its UTILITY OF RELIGION 93 indulgence, really do, in most cases, believe that they are offending God. Doubtless, they do not think that they are offending him in such a degree as very seriously to endanger their salvation. Their reliance on his mercy prevails over their dread of his resent- ment ; affording an exemplification of the remark already made, that the unavoidable uncertainty of religious penalties makes them feeble as a deterring motive. They are so, even in the case of acts which human opinion condemns : much more, with those to which it is indulgent. What mankind think venial, it is hardly ever supposed that God looks upon in a serious light : at least by those who feel in themselves any inclination to practise it. I do not for a moment think of denying that there are states of mind in which the idea of religious punishment acts with the most overwhelming force. In hypochondriacal disease, and in those with whom, from great disappointments or other moral causes, the thoughts and imagination have assumed an habitually melancholy complexion, that topic, falling in with the pre-existing tendency of the mind, supplies images well fitted to drive the unfortunate sufferer even to madness. Often, during a temporary state of depres- sion, these ideas take such a hold of the mind as to give a permanent turn to the character ; being the most common case of what, in sectarian phraseology, is called conversion. But if the depressed state ceases 94 UTILITY OF RELIGION after the conversion, as it commonly does, and the convert does not relapse, but perseveres in his new course of life, the principal difference between it and the old is usually found to be, that the man now guides his life by the public opinion of his religious associates, as he before guided it by that of the pro- fane world. At all events, there is one clear proof how little the generality of mankind, either religious or worldly, really dread eternal punishments, when we see how, even at the approach of death, when the re- moteness which took so much from their effect has been exchanged for the closest proximity, almost all persons who have not been guilty of some enormous crime (and many who have) are quite free from un- easiness as to their prospects in another world, and never for a moment seem to think themselves in any real danger of eternal punishment. With regard to the cruel deaths and bodily tor- tures, which confessors and martyrs have so often undergone for the sake of religion, I would not de- preciate them by attributing any part of this admirable courage and constancy to the influence of human opinion. Human opinion indeed has shown itself quite equal to the production of similar firmness in persons not otherwise distinguished by moral excel- lence ; such as the North American Indian at the stake. But if it was not the thought of glory in the eyes of their fellow-religionists, which upheld these UTILITY OF RELIGION 95 heroic sufferers in their agony, as little do I believe that it was, generally speaking, that of the pleasures of heaven or the pains of hell. Their impulse was a divine enthusiasm — a self- forgetting devotion to an idea : a state of exalted feeling, by no means peculiar to religion, but which it is the privilege of every great cause to inspire ; a phenomenon belonging to the critical moments of existence, not to the ordinary play of human motives, and from which nothing can be inferred as to the efficacy of the ideas which it sprung from, whether religious or any other, in over- coming ordinary temptations, and regulating the course of daily life. We may now have done with this branch of the subject, which is, after all, the vulgarest part of it. The value of religion as a supplement to human laws, a more cunning sort of police, an auxiliary to the thief-catcher and the hangman, is not that part of its claims which the more highminded of its votaries are fondest of insisting on : and they would probably be as ready as any one to admit, that if the nobler offices of religion in the soul could be dispensed with, a substitute might be found for so coarse and selfish a social instrument as the fear of hell. In their view of the matter, the best of mankind absolutely require religion for the perfection of their own character, even though the coercion of the worst might possibly be accomplished without its aid. 96 UTILITY OF RELIGION Even in the social point of view, however, under its most elevated aspect, these nobler spirits generally assert the necessity of religion, as a teacher, if not as an enforcer, of social morality. They say, that religion alone can teach ns what morality is ; that all the high morality ever recognized by mankind, was learnt from religion ; that the greatest uninspired philosophers in their sublimest flights, stopt far short of the christian morality, and whatever inferior morality they may have attained to (by the assistance, as many think, of dim traditions derived from the Hebrew books, or from a primaeval revelation) they never could induce the common mass of their fellow citizens to accept it from them. That, only when a morality is understood to come from the Gods, do men in general adopt it, rally round it, and lend their human sanctions for its enforcement. That granting the sufficiency of human motives to make the rule obeyed, were it not for the religious idea we should not have had the rule itself. There is truth in much of this, considered as matter of history. Ancient peoples have generally, if not always, received their morals, their laws, their intel- lectual beliefs, and even their practical arts of life, all in short which tended either to guide or to discipline them, as revelations from the superior powers, and in any other way could not easily have been induced to accept them. This was partly the effect of their hopes UTILITY OF RELIGION 97 and fears from those powers, which were of much greater and more universal potency in early times, when the agency of the Glods was seen in the daily events of life, experience not having yet disclosed the fixed laws according to which physical phenomena succeed one another. Independently, too, of personal hopes and fears, the involuntary deference felt by these rude minds for power superior to their own, and the tendency to suppose that beings of superhuman power must also be of superhuman knowledge and wisdom, made them disinterestedly desire to conform their conduct to the presumed preferences of these powerful, beings, and to adopt no new practice without their authorization either spontaneously given, or solicited and obtained. But because, when men were still savages, they would not have received either moral or scientific truths unless they had supposed them to be super- naturally imparted, does it follow that they would now give up moral truths any more than scien- tific, because they believed them to have no higher origin than wise and noble human hearts ? Are not moral truths strong enough in their own evidence, at all events to retain the belief of mankind when once they have acquired it ? I grant that some of the precepts of Christ as exhibited in the Gospels — rising far above the Paulism which is the foundation of ordinary Christianity — carry some kinds of moral 98 UTILITY OF RELIGION goodness to a greater height than had ever heen attained before, though much even of what is sup- posed to be peculiar to them is equalled in the Medi- tations of Marcus Antoninus, which we have no ground for believing to have been in any way indebted to Christianity. But this benefit, whatever it amounts to, has been gained. Mankind have entered into the possession of it. It has become the property of humanity, and cannot now be lost by anything short of a return to primaeval barbarism. The " new commandment to love one another;"* the recognition that the greatest are those who serve, not who are served by, others ; the reverence for the weak and humble, which is the foundation of chivalry, they and not the strong being pointed out as having the first place in God's regard, and the first claim on their fellow men ; the lesson of the parable of the Good Samaritan ; that of " he that is without sin let him throw the first stone ;" the precept of doing as we would be done by ; and such other noble moralities as are to be found, mixed with some poetical exagge- rations, and some maxims of which it is difficult to ascertain the precise object ; in the authentic sayings of Jesus of Nazareth ; these are surely in sufficient * Not, however, a new commandment. In justice to the great Hebrew lawgiver, it should always be remembered that the precept, to love thy neighbour as thyself, already existed in the Pentateuch ; and very surprising it is to find it there. UTILITY OF RELIGION 99 harmony with the intellect and feelings of every good man or woman, to be in no danger of being let go, after having been once acknowledged as the creed of the best and foremost portion of our species. There will be, as there have been, shortcomings enough for a long time to come in acting on them ; but that they should be forgotten, or cease to be operative on the human conscience, while human beings remain cultivated or civilized, may be pro- nounced, once for all, impossible. On the other hand, there is a very real evil conse- quent on ascribing a supernatural origin to the received maxims of morality. That origin consecrates the whole of them, and protects them from being dis- cussed or criticized. So that if among the moral doctrines received as a part of religion, there be any which are imperfect — which were either erroneous from the first, or not properly limited and guarded in the expression, or which, unexceptionable once, are no longer suited to the changes that have taken place in human relations (and it is my firm belief that in so-called christian morality, instances of all these kinds are to be found) these doctrines are considered equally binding on the conscience with the noblest, most permanent and most universal precepts of Christ. Wherever morality is supposed to be of supernatural origin, morality is stereotyped ; as law is, for the same reason, among believers in the Koran. H 100 UTILITY OF RELIGION Belief, then, in the supernatural, great as are the services which it rendered in the early stages of human development, cannot be considered to be any- longer required, either for enabling us to know what is right and wrong in social morality, or for supply- ing us with motives to do right and to abstain from wrong. Such belief, therefore, is not necessary for social purposes, at least in the coarse way in which these can be considered apart from the character of the individual human being. That more elevated branch of the subject now remains to be considered. If supernatural beliefs are indeed necessary to the perfection of the individual character, they are neces- sary also to the highest excellence in social conduct : necessary in a far higher sense than that vulgar one, which constitutes it the great support of morality in common eyes. Let us then consider, what it is in human nature which causes it to require a religion ; what wants of the human mind religion supplies, and what qualities it developes. When we have understood this, we shall be better able to judge, how far these wants can be otherwise supplied and those qualities, or qualities equivalent to them, unfolded and brought to per- fection by other means. The old saying, Primus in orhe Deos fecit timor, I hold to be untrue, or to contain, at most, only a small amount of truth. Belief in Gods had, I conceive, even UTILITY OF RELIGION 101 in the rudest minds, a more honourable origin. Its universality has been very rationally explained from the spontaneous tendency of the mind to attribute life and volition, similar to what it feels in itself, to all natural objects and phenomena which appear to be self-moving. This was a plausible fancy, and no better theory could be formed at first. It was natu- rally persisted in so long as the motions and operations of these objects seemed to be arbitrary, and incapable of being accounted for but by the free choice of the Power itself. At first, no doubt, the objects them- selves were supposed to be alive ; and this belief still subsists among African fetish- worshippers. But as it must soon have appeared absurd that things which could do so much more than man, could not or would not do what man does, as for example to speak, the transition was made to supposing that the object pre- sent to the senses was inanimate, but was the creature and instrument of an invisible being with a form and organs similar to the human. These beings having first been believed in, fear of •them necessarily followed ; since they were thought able to inflict at pleasure on human beings great evils, which the sufferers neither knew how to avert nor to foresee, but were left dependent, for their chances of doing either,, upon solicitations addressed to the deities themselves. It is true, therefore, that fear had much to do with religion : but belief in the Gods evidently H 2 102 UTILITY OF BELIGION preceded, and did not arise from, fear: though the fear, when established, was a strong support to the belief, nothing being conceived to be so great an offence to the divinities as any doubt of their existence. It is unnecessary to prosecute further the natural history of religion, as we have not here to account for its origin in rude minds, but for its persistency in the cultivated. A sufficient explanation of this will, I conceive, be found in the small limits of man's certain knowledge, and the boundlessness of his desire to know. Human existence is girt round with mystery : the narrow region of our experience is a small island in the midst of a boundless sea, which at once awes our feelings and stimulates our imagination by its vastness and its obscurity. To add to the mystery, the domain of our earthly existence is not only an island in infinite space, but also in infinite time. The past and the future are alike shrouded from us : we neither know the origin of anything which is, nor its final destination. If we feel deeply interested in knowing that there are myriads of worlds at an im- measurable, and to our faculties inconceivable, distance from us in space ; if we are eager to discover what little we can about these worlds, and when we cannot know what they are, can never satiate ourselves with speculating on what they may be; is it not a matter of far deeper interest to us to learn, or even to con- UTILITY OF RELIGION 103 jecture, from whence came this nearer world which we inhabit ; what cause or agency made it what it is, and on what powers depend its future fate ? Who would not desire this more ardently than any other conceivable knowledge, so long as there appeared the slightest hope of attaining it ? What would not one give for any credible tidings from that mysterious region, any glimpse into it which might enable us to see the smallest light through its darkness, especially any theory of it which we could believe, and which represented it as tenanted by a benignant and not a hostile influence ? But since we are able to penetrate into that region with the imagination only, assisted by specious but inconclusive analogies derived from human agency and design, imagination is free to fill up the vacancy with the imagery most congenial to itself ; sublime and elevating if it be a lofty imagina- tion, low and mean if it be a grovelling one. Religion and poetry address themselves, at least in one of their aspects, to the same part of the human constitution : they both supply the same want, that of ideal conceptions grander and more beautiful than we see realized in the prose of human life. Eeligion, as distinguished from poetry, is the product of the craving to know whether these imaginative concep- tions have realities answering to them in some other world than ours. The mind, in this state, eagerly catches at any rumours respecting other worlds, 104 UTILITY OF RELIGION especially when delivered by persons whom it deems wiser than itself. To the poetry of the supernatural, comes to be thus added a positive belief and expecta- tion, which unpoetical minds can share with the poetical. Belief in a God or Gods, and in a life after death, becomes the canvas which every mind, accord- ing to its capacity, covers with such ideal pictures as- it can either invent or copy. In that other life each hopes to find the good which he has failed to find on earth, or the better which is suggested to him by the good which on earth he has partially seen and known. More especially, this belief supplies the finer minds with material for conceptions of beings more awful than they can have known on earth, and more excel- lent than they probably have known. So long a& human life is insufficient to satisfy human aspirations, so long there will be a craving for higher things, which finds its most obvious satisfaction in religion. So long as earthly life is full of sufferings, so long there will be need of consolations, which the hope of heaven affords to the selfish, the love of God to the tender and grateful. The value, therefore, of religion to the individual, both in the past and present, as a source of personal satisfaction and of elevated feelings, is not to be dis- puted. But it has still to be considered, whether in order to obtain this good, it is necessary to travel beyond the boundaries of the world which we inhabit ; UTILITY OF RELIGION 105 or whether the idealization of our earthly life, the cultivation of a high conception of what it may be made, is not capable of supplying a poetry, and, in the best sense of the word, a religion, equally fitted to exalt the feelings, and (with the same aid from education) still better calculated to ennoble the conduct, than any belief respecting the unseen powers. At the bare suggestion of such a possibility, many will exclaim, that the short duration, the smallness and insignificance of life, if there is no prolongation of it beyond what we see, makes it impossible that great and elevated feelings can connect themselves with anything laid out on so small a scale : that such a conception of life can match with nothing higher than Epicurean feelings, and the Epicurean doctrine " Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die." Unquestionably, within certain limits, the maxim of the Epicureans is sound, and applicable to much higher things than eating and drinking. To make the most of the present for all good purposes, those of enjoyment among the rest ; to keep under control those mental dispositions which lead to undue sacri- fice of present good for a future which may never arrive; to cultivate the habit of deriving pleasure from things within our reach, rather than from the too eager pursuit of objects at a distance ; to think all time wasted which is not spent either in personal 106 UTILITY OF RELIGION pleasure or in doing things useful to oneself or others ; these are wise maxims, and the " carpe diem" doc- trine, carried thus far, is a rational and legitimate corollary from the shortness of life. But that because life is short we should care for nothing beyond it, is not a legitimate conclusion ; and the supposition, that human beings in general are not capable of feeling deep and even the deepest interest in things which they will never live to see, is a view of human nature as false as it is abject. Let it be remembered that if individual life is short, the life of the human species is not short; its indefinite duration is practically equivalent to endlessness ; and being combined with indefinite capability of improvement, it offers to the imagination and sympathies a large enough object to satisfy any reasonable demand for grandeur of aspi- ration. If such an object appears small to a mind accustomed to dream of infinite and eternal beatitudes,it will expand into far other dimensions when those baseless fancies shall have receded into the past. Nor let it be thought that only the more eminent of our species, in mind and heart, are capable of identifying their feelings with the entire life of the human race. This noble capability implies indeed a certain cultivation, but not superior to that which might be, and certainly will be if human improve- ment continues, the lot of all. Objects far smaller than this, and equally confined within the limits of UTILITY OF RELIGION 107 the earth (though not within those of a single human life), have been found sufficient to inspire large masses and long successions of mankind with an enthusiasm capable of ruling the conduct, and colouring the whole life. Eome was to the entire Eoman people, for many generations as much a religion as Jehovah was to the Jews; nay, much more, for they never fell off from their worship as the Jews did from theirs. And the Eomans, otherwise a selfish people, with no very remarkable faculties of any kind except the purely practical, derived nevertheless from this one idea a certain greatness of soul, which manifests itself in all their history where that idea is concerned and no- where else, and has earned for them the large share of admiration, in other respects not at all deserved, which has been felt for them by most noble-minded persons from that time to this. When we consider how ardent a sentiment, in favourable circumstances of education, the love of country has become, we cannot judge it impossible that the love of that larger country, the world, may be nursed into similar strength, both as a source of elevated emotion and as a principle of duty. He who needs any other lesson on this subject than the whole course of ancient history affords, let him read Cicero de Officiis. It cannot be said that the standard of morals laid down in that celebrated treatise is a high standard. To our notions it is on many points unduly 108 UTILITY OF RELIGION lax, and admits capitulations of conscience. But on the subject of duty to our country there is no com- promise. That any man, with the smallest pretensions to virtue, could hesitate to sacrifice life, reputation, family, everything valuable to him, to the love of country is a supposition which this eminent inter- preter of Greek and Eoman morality cannot entertain for a moment. If, then, persons could be trained, as we see they were, not only to believe in theory that the good of their country was an object to which all others ought to yield, but to feel this practically as the grand duty of life, so also may they be made to feel the same absolute obligation towards the uni- versal good. A morality grounded on large and wise views of the good of the whole, neither sacrificing the individual to the aggregate nor the aggregate to the individual, but giving to duty on the one hand and to freedom and spontaneity on the other their proper pro- vince, would derive its power in the superior natures from sympathy and benevolence and the passion for ideal excellence : in the inferior, from the same feelings cultivated up to the measure of their capacity, with the superadded force of shame. This exalted morality would not depend for its ascendancy on any hope of reward ; but the reward which might be looked for, and the thought of which would be a con- solation in suffering, and a support in moments of weakness, would not be a problematical future exis- UTILITY OF RELIGION 109 tence, but the approbation, in this, of those whom we respect, and ideally of all those, dead or living, whom we admire or venerate. For, the thought that our dead parents or friends would have approved our con- duct is a scarcely less powerful motive than the knowledge that our living ones do approve it : and the idea that Socrates, or Howard or Washington, or Antoninus, or Christ, would have sympathized with us, or that we are attempting to do our part in the spirit in which they did theirs, has operated on the very best minds, as a strong incentive to act up to their highest feelings and convictions. To call these sentiments by the name morality, ex* clusively of any other title, is claiming too little for them. They are a real religion ; of which, as of other religions, outward good works (the utmost meaning usually suggested by the word morality) are only a part, and are indeed rather the fruits of the religion than the religion itself. The essence of re- ligion is the strong and earnest direction of the emotions and desires towards an ideal object, recog- nized as of the highest excellence, and as rightfully paramount over all selfish objects of desire. This condition is fulfilled by the Eeligion of Humanity in as eminent a degree, and in as high a sense, as by the supernatural religions even in their best manifesta- tions, and far more so than in any of their others. Much more might be added on this topic; but 110 UTILITY OF RELIGION enough has been said to convince any one, who can distinguish between the intrinsic capacities of human nature and the forms in which those capacities happen to have been historically developed, that the sense of unity with mankind, and a deep feeling for the gene- ral good, may be cultivated into a sentiment and a principle capable of fulfilling every important function of religion and itself justly entitled to the name. I will now further maintain, that it is not only capable of fulfilling these functions, but would fulfil them better than any form whatever of supernaturalism. It is not only entitled to be called a religion : it is a better religion than any of those which are ordinarily called by that title. For, in the first place, it is disinterested. It carries the thoughts and feelings out of self, and fixes them on an unselfish object, loved and pursued as an end for its own sake. The religions which deal in pro- mises and threats regarding a future life, do exactly the contrary : they fasten down the thoughts to the person's own posthumous interests ; they tempt him to regard the performance of his duties to others mainly as a means to his own personal salvation ; and are one of the most serious obstacles to the great purpose of moral culture, the strengthening of the unselfish and weakening of the selfish element in our nature ; since they hold out to the imagination selfish good and evil of such tremendous magnitude, that it UTILITY OF RELIGION 111 is difficult for any one who fully believes in their reality, to have feeling or interest to spare for any other distant and ideal object. It is true, many of the most unselfish of mankind have been believers in supernaturalism, because their minds have not dwelt on the threats and promises of their religion, but chiefly on the idea of a Being to whom they looked up with a confiding love, and in whose hands they willingly left all that related especially to themselves. But in its effect on common minds, what now goes by the name of religion operates mainly through the feelings of self-interest. Even the Christ of the Gospels holds out the direct promise of reward from heaven as a primary inducement to the noble and beautiful beneficence towards our fellow-creatures which he so impressively inculcates. This is a radical inferiority of the best supernatural religions, compared with the Eeligion of Humanity; since the greatest thing which moral influences can do for the ameliora- tion of human nature, is to cultivate the unselfish feelings in the only mode in which any active principle in human nature can be effectually cultivated, namely by habitual exercise : but the habit of expecting to be rewarded in another life for our conduct in this, makes even virtue itself no longer an exercise of the unselfish feelings. Secondly, it is an immense abatement from tlie worth of the old religions as means of elevating and 112 UTILITY OF RELIGION improving human character, that it is nearly, if not quite impossible for them to produce their best moral effects, unless we suppose a certain torpidity, if not positive twist in the intellectual faculties. For it is impossible that any one who habitually thinks, and who is unable to blunt his inquiring intellect by sophistry, should be able without misgiving to go on ascribing absolute perfection to the author and ruler of so clumsily made and capriciously governed a creation as this planet and the life of its inhabitants. The adoration of such a being cannot be with the whole heart, unless the heart is first considerably sophisticated. The worship must either be greatly overclouded by doubt, and occasionally quite dar- kened by it, or the moral sentiments must sink to the low level of the ordinances of Nature : the worshipper must learn to think blind partiality, atrocious cruelty, and reckless injustice, not blemishes in an object of worship, since all these abound to excess in the commonest phenomena of Nature. It is true, the God who is worshipped is not, generally speaking, the God of Nature only, but also the God of some reve- lation ; and the character of the revelation will greatly modify and, it may be, improve the moral influences of the religion. This is emphatically true of Chris- tianity ; since the Author of the Sermon on the Mount is assuredly a far more benignant Being than the Author of Nature. But unfortunately, the believer UTILITY OF RELIGION 113 in the christian revelation is obliged to believe that the same being is the author of both. This, nnless he resolutely averts his mind from the subject, or practises the act of quieting his conscience by sophistry, involves him in moral perplexities without end ; since the ways of his Deity in Nature are on many occasions totally at variance with the precepts, as he believes, of the same Deity in the Gospel. He who comes out with least moral damage from this embarrassment, is probably the one who never attempts to reconcile the two standards with one another, but confesses to himself that the purposes of Providence are myste- rious, that its ways are not our ways, that its justice and goodness are not the justice and goodness which we can conceive and which it befits us to practise. When, however, this is the feeling of the believer, the worship of the Deity ceases to be the adoration of abstract moral perfection. It becomes the bowing down to a gigantic image of something not fit for us to imitate. It is the worship of power only. I say nothing of the moral difficulties and perver- sions involved in revelation itself ; though even in the Christianity of the Gospels, at least in its ordinary interpretation, there are some of so flagrant a character as almost to outweigh all the beauty and benignity and moral greatness which so eminently distinguish the sayings and character of Christ. The recognition, for example, of the object of highest worship, in a 114 UTILITY OF RELIGION being who could make a Hell ; and who could create countless generations of human beings with the certain foreknowledge that he was creating them for this fate. Is there any moral enormity which might not be justified by imitation of such a Deity ? And is it possible to adore such a one without a frightful distortion of the standard of right and wrong ? Any other of the outrages to the most ordinary justice and humanity involved in the common christian con- ception of the moral character of Grod, sinks into insignificance beside this dreadful idealization of wickedness. Most of them too, are happily not so unequivocally deducible from the very words of Christ as to be indisputably a part of christian doctrine. It may be doubted, for instance, whether Christianity is really responsible for atonement and redemption, origi- nal sin and vicarious punishment: and the same may be said respecting the doctrine which makes belief in the divine mission of Christ a necessary condition of salvation. It is nowhere represented that Christ himself made this statement, except in the huddled-up account of the Resurrection contained in the con- cluding verses of St. Mark, which some critics (I believe the best), consider to be an interpolation. Again, the proposition that " the powers that be are ordained of God" and the whole series of corollaries deduced from it in the Epistles, belong to St. Paul, and must stand or fall with Paulism, not with UTILITY OF RELIGION 115 Christianity. But there is one moral contradiction inseparable from every form of Christianity, which no ingenuity can resolve, and no sophistry explain away. It is, that so precious a gift, bestowed on a few, should have been withheld from the many: that countless millions of human beings should have been allowed to live and die, to sin and suffer, without the one thing needful, the divine remedy for sin and suffering, which it would have cost the Divine Giver as little to have vouchsafed to all, as to have bestowed by special grace upon a favoured minority. Add to this, that the divine message, assuming it to be such, has been authenti- cated by credentials so insufficient, that they fail to convince a large proportion of the strongest and most cultivated minds, and the tendency to disbelieve them appears to grow with the growth of scientific knowledge and critical discrimination. He who can believe these to be the intentional shortcomings of a perfectly good Being, must impose silence on every prompting of the sense of goodness and justice as received among men. It is, no doubt, possible (and there are many instances of it) to worship with the intensest devotion either Deity, that of Nature or of the Gospel, without any perversion of the moral sentiments : but this must be by fixing the attention exclusively on what is beautiful and beneficent in the precepts and spirit of the Gospel and in the dispensations of Nature, and 116 UTILITY OF RELIGION putting all that is the reverse as entirely aside as if it did not exist. Accordingly, this simple and innocent faith can only, as I have said, co-exist with a torpid and inactive state of the speculative faculties. For a person of exercised intellect, there is no way of attaining anything equivalent to it, save by sophis- tication and perversion, either of the understanding or of the conscience. It may almost always be said both of sects and of individuals, who derive their morality from religion, that the better logicians they are, the worse moralists. One only form of belief in the supernatural — one only theory respecting the origin and government of the universe — stands wholly clear both of intellectual contradiction and of moral obliquity. It is that which, resigning irrevocably the idea of an omnipotent creator, regards Nature and Life not as the expression throughout of the moral character and purpose of the Deity, but as the product of a struggle between contriving goodness and an intractable material, as was believed by Plato, or a Principle of Evil, as was the doctrine of the Manicheans. A creed like this, which I have known to be devoutly held by at least one cultivated and conscientious person of our own day, allows it to be believed that all the mass of evil which exists was undesigned by, and exists not by the appointment of, but in spite of the Being whom we are called upon to worship. A virtuous human UTILITY OF RELIGION 117 being assumes in this theory the exalted character of a fellow-labourer with the Highest, a fellow-combatant in the great strife ; contributing his little, which by the aggregation of many like himself becomes much, towards that progressive ascendancy, and ultimately complete triumph of good over evil, which history points to, and which this doctrine teaches us to regard as planned by the Being to whom we owe all the benevolent contrivance we behold in Nature. Against the moral tendency of this creed no possible objection can lie : it can produce on whoever can succeed in believing it, no other than an ennobling effect. The evidence for it, indeed, if evidence it can be called, is too shadowy and unsubstantial, and the promises it holds out too distant and uncertain, to admit of its being a permanent substitute for the religion of humanity ; but the two may be held in conjunction : and he to whom ideal good, and the progress of the world towards it, are already a religion, even though that other creed may seem to him a belief not grounded on evidence, is at liberty to indulge the pleasing and encouraging thought, that its truth is possible. Apart from all dogmatic belief, there is for those who need it, an ample domain in the region of the imagination which may be planted with possibilities, with hypotheses which cannot be known to be false; and when there is anything in the appearances of nature to favour them, as in this I 2 118 UTILITY OF RELIGION case there is (for whatever force we attach to the analogies of Nature with the effects of human con- trivance, there is no disputing the remark of Paley, that what is good in nature exhibits those analogies much oftener than what is evil), the contemplation of these possibilities is a legitimate indulgence, capable of bearing its part, with other influences, in feeding and animating the tendency of the feelings and impulses towards good. One advantage, such as it is, the supernatural religions must always possess over the Eeligion of Humanity ; the prospect they hold out to the indi- vidual of a life after death. For, though the scepti- cism of the understanding does not necessarily exclude the Theism of the imagination and feelings, and this, again, gives opportunity for a hope that the power which has done so much for us may be able and willing to do this also, such vague possibility must ever stop far short of a conviction. It remains then to estimate the value of this element — the prospect of a world to come — as a constituent of earthly happi- ness. I cannot but think that as the condition of mankind becomes improved, as they grow happier in their lives, and more capable of deriving happiness from unselfish sources, they will care less and less for this flattering expectation. It is not, naturally or generally, the happy who are the most anxious either for a prolongation of the present life, or for a life UTILITY OF RELIGION 119 hereafter : it is those who never have been happy. They who have had their happiness can bear to part with existence : but it is hard to die without ever having lived. When mankind cease to need a future existence as a consolation for the sufferings of the present, it will have lost its chief value to them, for themselves. I am now speaking of the unselfish. Those who are so wrapped up in self that they are unable to identify their feelings with anything which will survive them, or to feel their life prolonged in their younger cotemporaries and in all who help to carry on the progressive movement of human affairs, require the notion of another selfish life beyond the grave, to enable them to keep up any interest in ex- istence, since the present life, as its termination ap- proaches, dwindles into something too insignificant to be worth caring about. But if the Eeligion of Humanity were as sedulously cultivated as the super- natural religions are (and there is no difficulty in conceiving that it might be much more so), all who had received the customary amount of moral cultiva- tion would up to the hour of death live ideally in the life of those who are to follow them : and though doubtless they would often willingly survive as indi- viduals for a much longer period than the present duration of life, it appears to me probable that after a length of time different in different persons, they would have had enough of existence, and would 120 UTILITY OF RELIGION gladly lie down and take their eternal rest. Mean- while and without looking so far forward, we may remark, that those who "believe the immortality of the soul, generally quit life with fully as much, if not more, reluctance, as those who have no such expecta- tion. The mere cessation of existence is no evil to any one: the idea is only formidable through the illusion of imagination which makes one conceive oneself as if one were alive and feeling oneself dead. What is odious in death is not death itself, but the act of dying, and its lugubrious accompaniments : all of which must be equally undergone by the believer in immortality. Nor can I perceive that the sceptic loses by his scepticism any real and valuable consolation except one ; the hope of reunion with those dear to him who have ended their earthly life before him. That loss, indeed, is neither to be denied nor extenu- ated. In many cases it is beyond the reach of com- parison or estimate ; and will always suffice to keep alive, in the more sensitive natures, the imaginative hope of a futurity which, if there is nothing to prove, there is as little in our knowledge and experience to contradict. History, so far as we know it, bears out the opinion, that mankind can perfectly well do without the belief in a heaven. The Greeks had anything but a tempting idea of a future state. Their Elysian fields held out very little attraction to their feelings UTILITY OF RELIGION 121 and imagination. Achilles in the Odyssey expressed a very natural, and no doubt a very common, senti- ment, when he said that he would rather be on earth the serf of a needy master, than reign over the whole kingdom of the dead. And the pensive character so striking in the address of the dying emperor Hadrian to his soul, gives evidence that the popular conception had not undergone much variation during that long interval. Yet we neither find that the Greeks enjoyed life less, nor feared death more, than other people. The Buddhist religion counts probably at this day a greater number of votaries than either the Christian or the Mahomedan. The Buddhist creed recognises many modes of punishment in a future life, or rather lives, by the transmigration of the soul into new bodies of men or animals. But the blessing from Heaven which it proposes as a reward, to be earned by perseverance in the highest order of virtuous life, is annihilation ; the cessation, at least, of all conscious or separate existence. It is impossible to mistake in this religion, the work of legislators and moralists endeavouring to supply supernatural motives for the conduct which they were anxious to encourage ; and they could find nothing more transcendant to hold out as the capital prize to be won by the mightiest efforts of labour and self-denial, than what we are so often told is the terrible idea of annihilation. Surely this is a proof that the idea is not really or naturally 122 UTILITY OF EELIGION terrible ; that not philosophers only, but the common order of mankind, can easily reconcile themselves to it, and even consider it as a good ; and that it is no un- natural part of the idea of a happy life, that life itself be laid down, after the best that it can give has been fully enjoyed through a long lapse of time ; when all its pleasures, even those of benevolence, are familiar, and nothing untasted and unknown is left to stimu- late curiosity and keep up the desire of prolonged existence. It seems to me not only possible but pro- bable, that in a higher, and, above all, a happier con- dition of human life, not annihilation but immortality may be the burdensome idea ; and that human nature, though pleased with the present, and by no means impatient to quit it, would find comfort and not sad- ness in the thought that it is not chained through eternity to a conscious existence which it cannot be assured that it will always wish to preserve. THEISM THEISM PAET I INTEODUCTION nnHE contest which subsists from of old between believers and unbelievers in natural and revealed religion, has, like other permanent contests, varied materially in its character from age to age ; and the present generation, at least in the higher regions of controversy, shows, as compared with the 18th and the beginning of the 19th century, a marked altera- tion in the aspect of the dispute. One feature of this change is so apparent as to be generally acknow- ledged ; the more softened temper in which the debate is conducted on the part of unbelievers. The reac- tionary violence, provoked by the intolerance of the other side, has in a great measure exhausted itself. Experience has abated the ardent hopes once enter- tained of the regeneration of the human race by merely negative doctrine — by the destruction of superstition. The philosophical study of history, 126 THEISM one of the most important creations of recent times, has rendered possible an impartial estimate of the doctrines and institutions of the past, from a relative instead of an absolute point of view — as incidents of human development at which it is useless to grumble, and which may deserve admiration and gratitude for their effects in the past, even though they may be thought incapable of rendering similar services to the future. And the position assigned to Christianity or Theism by the more instructed of those who reject the supernatural, is that of things once of great value but which can now be done without ; rather than, as formerly, of things misleading and noxious ab initio. Along with this change in the moral attitude of thoughtful unbelievers towards the religious ideas of mankind, a corresponding difference has manifested itself in their intellectual attitude. The war against religious beliefs, in the last century was carried on principally on the ground of common sense or of logic ; in the present age, on the ground of science. The progress of the physical sciences is considered to have established, by conclusive evidence, matters of fact with which the religious traditions of mankind are not reconcileable ; while the science of human nature and history, is considered to show that the creeds of the past are natural growths of the human mind, in particular stages of its career, destined to disappear and give place to other convictions in a INTRODUCTION 127 more advanced stage. In the progress of discussion this last class of considerations seems even to be superseding those which address themselves directly to the question of truth. KeHgions tend to be discussed, at least by those who reject them, less as intrinsically true or false than as products thrown up by certain states of civilization, and which, like the animal and vegetable productions of a geological period perish in those which succeed it from the cessation of the conditions necessary to their con- tinued existence. This tendency of recent speculation to look upon human opinions pre-eminently from an historical point of view, as facts obeying laws of their own, and requiring, like other observed facts, an historical or a scientific explanation (a tendency not confined to religious subjects), is by no means to be blamed, but to be applauded ; not solely as drawing attention to an important and previously neglected aspect of human opinions, but because it has a real though indirect bearing upon the question of their truth. For, whatever opinion a person may adopt on any subject that admits of controversy, his assurance if he be a cautious thinker cannot be complete unless he is able to account for the existence of the op- posite opinion. To ascribe it to the weakness of the human understanding is an explanation which cannot be sufficient for such a thinker, for he will 128 THEISM be slow to assume that he has himself a less share of that infirmity than the rest of mankind and that error is more likely to be on the other side than on his own. In his examination of evidence, the per- suasion of others, perhaps of mankind in general, is one of the data of the case — one of the phe- nomena to be accounted for. As the human intellect though weak is not essentially perverted, there is a certain presumption of the truth of any opinion held by many human minds, requiring to be rebutted by assigning some other real or possible cause for its prevalence. And this consideration has a special relevancy to the inquiry concerning the foundations of theism, inasmuch as no argument for the truth of theism is more commonly invoked or more con- fidently relied on, than the general assent of man- kind. But while giving its full value to this historical treatment of the religious question, we ought not therefore to let it supersede the dogmatic. The most important quality of an opinion on any momentous subject is its truth or falsity, which to us resolves itself into the sufficiency of the evidence on which it rests. It is indispensable that the subject of religion should from time to time be reviewed as a strictly scientific question, and that its evidences should be tested by the same scientific methods, and on the same principles as those of any of the speculative conclusions drawn INTRODUCTION 129 by physical science. It being granted then that the legitimate conclusions of science are entitled to prevail over all opinions, however widely held, which conflict with them, and that the canons of scientific evidence which the successes and failures of two thousand years have established, are applicable to all subjects on which knowledge is attainable, let us proceed to con- sider what place there is for religious beliefs on the platform of science ; what evidences they can appeal to, such as science can recognize, and what foundation there is for the doctrines of religion, considered as scientific theorems. In this inquiry we of course begin with Natural Eeligion, the doctrine of the existence and attributes of God. THEISM nPHOUGH I have defined the problem of Natural Theology, to be that of the existence of God or of a God, rather than of Gods, there is the amplest his- torical evidence that the belief in Gods is immeasura- bly more natural to the human mind than the belief in one author and ruler of nature ; and that this more elevated belief is, compared with the former, an arti- ficial product, requiring (except when impressed by early education) a considerable amount of intellectual culture before it can be reached. For a long time, the supposition appeared forced and unnatural that the diversity we see in the operations of nature can all be the work of a single will. To the untaught mind, and to all minds in pre-scientific times, the phenomena of nature seem to be the result of forces altogether heterogeneous, each taking its course quite independently of the others ; and though to attribute them to conscious wills is eminently natural, THEISM 131 the natural tendency is to suppose as many such inde- pendent wills as there are distinguishable forces of sufficient importance and interest to have been re- marked and named. There is no tendency in poly- theism as such to transform itself spontaneously into monotheism. It is true that in polytheistic systems generally the deity whose special attributes inspire the greatest degree of awe, is usually supposed to have a power of controlling the other deities ; and even in the most degraded perhaps of all such systems, the Hindoo, adulation heaps upon the divinity who is the immediate object of adoration, epithets like those habitual to believers in a single God. But there is no real acknowledgment of one Governor. Every God normally rules his particular department though there may be a still stronger God whose power when he chooses to exert it can frustrate the purposes of the inferior divinity. There could be no real belief in one Creator and Governor until mankind had begun to see in the apparently confused phenomena which sur- rounded them, a system capable of being viewed as the possible working out of a single plan. This con- ception of the world was perhaps anticipated (though less frequently than is often supposed) by individuals of exceptional genius, but it could only become common after a rather long cultivation of scientific thought. The special mode in which scientific study operates to instil Monotheism in place of the more natural K 132 THEISM Polytheism, is in no way mysterious. The specific effect of science is to show by accumulating evidence, that every event in nature is connected by laws with some fact or facts which preceded it, or in other words, depends for its existence on some antecedent; but yet not so strictly on one, as not to be liable to frustration or modification from others : for these distinct chains of causation are so entangled with one another; the action of each cause is so interfered with by other causes, though each acts according to its own fixed law ; that every effect is truly the result rather of the aggregate of all causes in existence than of any one only ; and nothing takes place in the world of our experience without spreading a perceptible influence of some sort through a greater or less portion of Nature, and making perhaps every portion of it slightly different from what it would have been if that event had not taken place. Now, when once the double conviction has found entry into the mind — that every event depends on antecedents ; and at the same time that to bring it about many ante- cedents must concur, perhaps all the antecedents in Nature, insomuch that a slight difference in any one of them might have prevented the phenomenon, or materially altered its character — the conviction follows that no one event, certainly no one kind of events, can be absolutely preordained or governed by any Being but one who holds in his hand the reins of all THEISM 133 Nature and not of some department only. At least if a plurality be supposed, it is necessary to assume so complete a concert of action and unity of will among them that the difference is for most purposes immaterial between such a theory and that of the absolute unity of the Godhead. The reason, then, why Monotheism may be ac- cepted as the representative of Theism in the abstract, is not so much because it is the Theism of all the more improved portions of the human race, as because it is the only Theism which can claim for itself any footing on scientific ground. Every other theory of the government of the universe by supernatural beings, is inconsistent either with the carrying on of that government through a continual series of natural antecedents according to fixed laws, or with the interdependence of each of these series upon all the rest, which are the two most general results of science. Setting out therefore from the scientific view of nature as one connected system, or united whole, united not like a web composed of separate threads in passive juxtaposition with one another, but rather like the human or animal frame, an apparatus kept going by perpetual action and reaction among all its parts ; it must be acknowledged that the question, to which Theism is an answer, is at least a very natural one, and issues from an obvious want of the human mind. 134 THEISM Accustomed as we are to find, in proportion to our means of observation, a definite beginning to each individual fact ; and since wherever there is a be- ginning we find that there was an antecedent fact (called by us a cause), a fact but for which, the phe- nomenon which thus commences would not have been ; it was impossible that the human mind should not ask itself whether the whole, of which these par- ticular phenomena are a part, had not also a be- ginning, and if so, whether that beginning was not an origin ; whether there was not something ante- cedent to the whole series of causes and effects that we term Nature, and but for which Nature itself would not have been. From the first recorded specu- lation this question has never remained without an hypothetical answer. The only answer which has long continued to afford satisfaction is Theism. Looking at the problem, as it is our business to do, merely as a scientific inquiry, it resolves itself into two questions. First : Is the theory, which refers the origin of all the phenomena of nature to the will of a Creator, consistent or not with the ascertained results of science ? Secondly, assuming it to be con- sistent, will its proofs bear to be tested by the prin- ciples of evidence and canons of belief by which our long experience of scientific inquiry has proved the necessity of being guided ? First, then: there is one conception of Theism THEISM 135 which is consistent, another which is radically incon- sistent, with the most general truths that have been made known to us by scientific investigation. The one which is inconsistent is the conception of a Grod governing the world by acts of variable will. The one which is consistent, is the conception of a Grod governing the world by invariable laws. The primitive, and even in our own day the vulgar, conception of the divine rule, is that the one Grod, like the many Grods of antiquity, carries on the govern- ment of the world by special decrees, made pro hac vice. Although supposed to be omniscient as well as omnipotent, he is thought not to make up his mind until the moment of action ; or at least not so con- clusively, but that his intentions may be altered up to the very last moment by appropriate solicitation. Without entering into the difficulties of reconciling this view of the divine government with the pre- science and the perfect wisdom ascribed to the Deity, we may content ourselves with the fact that it con- tradicts what experience has taught us of the manner in which things actually take place. The phenomena of Nature do take place according to general laws. They do originate from definite natural antecedents. Therefore if their ultimate origin is derived from a will, that will must have established the general laws and willed the antecedents. If there be a Creator, his intention must have been that events should de- 136 THEISM pend upon antecedents and be produced according to fixed laws. But this being conceded, there is nothing in scientific experience inconsistent with the belief that those laws and sequences are themselves due to a divine will. Neither are we obliged to suppose that the divine will exerted itself once for all, and after putting a power into the system which enabled it to go on of itself, has ever since let it alone. Science contains nothing repugnant to the supposi- tion that every event which takes place results from a specific volition of the presiding Power, provided that this Power adheres in its particular volitions to general laws laid down by itself. The common opinion is that this hypothesis tends more to the glory of the Deity than the supposition that the universe was made so that it could go on of itself. There have been thinkers however — of no ordinary eminence (of whom Leibnitz was one) — who thought the last the only supposition worthy of the Deity, and protested against likening Grod to a clockmaker whose clock will not go unless he puts his hand to the machinery and keeps it going. With such con- siderations we have no concern in this place. We are looking at the subject not from the point of view of reverence but from that of science ; and with science both these suppositions as to the mode of the divine action are equally consistent. We must now, however, pass to the next question. THEISM 137 There is nothing to disprove the creation and govern- ment of Nature by a sovereign will; but is there anything to prove it ? Of what nature are its evi- dences; and weighed in the scientific balance, what is their value ? THE EVIDENCES OF THEISM HP HE evidences of a Creator are not only of several distinct kinds but of such diverse characters, that they are adapted to minds of very different de- scriptions, and it is hardly possible for any mind to be equally impressed by them all. The familiar classification of them into proofs a priori and a pos- teriori, marks that when looked at in a purely scien- tific view they belong to different schools of thought. Accordingly though the unthoughtful believer whose creed really rests on authority gives an equal wel- come to all plausible arguments in support of the belief in which he has been brought up, philosophers who have had to make a choice between the a priori and the a posteriori methods in general science seldom fail, while insisting on one of these modes of support for religion, to speak with more or less of disparage- ment of the other. It is our duty in the present inquiry to maintain complete impartiality and to EVIDENCES OF THEISM 139 give a fair examination to both. At the same time I entertain a strong conviction that one of the two modes of argument is in its nature scientific, the other not only unscientific but condemned by science. The scientific argument is that which reasons from the facts and analogies of human experience as a geologist does when he infers the past states of our terrestrial globe, or an astronomical observer when he draws conclusions respecting the physical composition of the heavenly bodies. This is the a posteriori method, the principal application of which to Theism is the argument (as it is called) of design. The mode of reasoning which I call unscientific, though in the opinion of some thinkers it is also a legitimate mode of scientific procedure, is that which infers external objective facts from ideas or convictions of our minds. I say this independently of any opinion of my own respecting the origin of our ideas or convictions ; for even if we were unable to point out any manner in which the idea of God, for example, can have grown up from the impressions of experience, still the idea can only prove the idea, and not the objective fact, unless indeed the fact is supposed (agreeably to the book of Genesis) to have been handed down by tradi- tion from a time when there was direct personal intercourse with the Divine Being; in which case the argument is no longer a priori. The supposition that an idea, or a wish, or a need, even if native to 140 THEISM the mind proves the reality of a corresponding object, derives all its plausibility from the belief already in our minds that we were made by a benignant Being who would not have implanted in us a groundless belief, or a want which he did not afford us the means of satisfying ; and is therefore a palpable petitio principii if adduced as an argument to support the very belief which it presupposes. At the same time, it must be admitted that all a priori systems whether in philosophy or religion, do, in some sense profess to be founded on experience, since though they affirm the possibility of arriving at truths which transcend experience, they yet make the facts of experience their starting point (as what other starting point is possible ?). They are entitled to consideration in so far as it can be shown that experi- ence gives any countenance either to them or to their method of inquiry. Professedly a priori arguments are not unfrequently of a mixed nature, partaking in some degree of the a posteriori character, and may often be said to be a posteriori arguments in disguise; the a priori considerations acting chiefly in the way of making some particular a posteriori argument tell for more than its worth. This is emphatically true of the argument for Theism which I shall first examine, the necessity of a First Cause. For this has in truth a wide basis of experience in the universality of the re- lation of Cause and Effect among the phenomena of EVIDENCES OF THEISM 141 nature ; while at the same time, theological philoso- phers have not been content to let it rest upon this basis, but have affirmed Causation as a truth of reason -apprehended intuitively by its own light. AEGUMENT FOE A FIEST CAUSE rFHE argument for a First Cause admits of being, and is, presented as a conclusion from the whole of human experience. Everything that we know (it is argued) had a cause, and owed its existence to that cause. How then can it be but that the world, which is but a name for the aggregate of all that we know, has a cause to which it is indebted for its existence? The fact of experience however, when correctly ex- pressed, turns out to be, not that everything which we know derives its existence from a cause, but only every event or change. There is in Nature a perma- nent element, and also a changeable : the changes are always the effects of previous changes ; the permanent existences, so far as we know, are not effects at all. It is true we are accustomed to say not only of events, but of objects, that they are produced by causes, as water by the union of hydrogen and oxygen. But by this we only mean that when they begin to exist, their ARGUMENT FOR A FIRST CAUSE 143 beginning is the effect of a cause. But their beginning to exist is not an object, it is an event. If it be ob- jected that the cause of a thing's beginning to exist may be said with propriety to be the cause of the thing itself, I shall not quarrel with the expression. But that which in an object begins to exist, is that in it which belongs to the changeable element in nature ; the outward form and the properties depending on mechanical or chemical combinations of its component parts. There is in every object another and a perma- nent element, viz., the specific elementary substance or substances of which it consists and their inherent properties. These are not known to us as beginning to exist : within the range of human knowledge they had no beginning, consequently no cause ; though they themselves are causes or con-causes of everything that takes place. Experience therefore, affords no evidences, not even analogies, to justify our extending to the apparently immutable, a generalization grounded only on our observation of the changeable. As a fact of experience, then, causation cannot legitimately be extended to the material universe itself, but only to its changeable phenomena; of these, indeed, causes may be affirmed without any exception. But what causes? The cause of every change is a prior change; and such it cannot but be ; for if there were no new antecedent, there would not be a new consequent. If the state of 144 THEISM facts which brings the phenomenon into existence,, had existed always or for an indefinite duration, the effect also would have existed always or been produced an indefinite time ago. It is thus a ne- cessary part of the fact of causation, within the sphere of our experience, that the causes as well as the effects had a beginning in time, and were themselves caused. It would seem therefore that our experience, instead of furnishing an argument for a first cause, is repugnant to it; and that the very essence of causation as it exists within the limits of our knowledge, is incompatible with a First Cause. But it is necessary to look more particularly into the matter, and analyse more closely the nature of the causes of which mankind have experience. For if it should turn out that though all causes have a beginning, there is in all of them a permanent element which had no beginning, this permanent element may with some justice be termed a first or universal cause, inasmuch as though not suffi- cient of itself to cause anything, it enters as a con-cause into all causation. Now it happens that the last result of physical inquiry, derived from the converging evidences of all branches of physical science, does, if it holds good, land us so far as the material world is concerned, in a result of this sort. Whenever a physical phenomenon is traced to ARGUMENT FOR A FIRST CAUSE 145* its cause, that cause when analysed is found to be a certain quantum of Force, combined with certain collocations. And the last great generalization of science, the Conservation of Force, teaches us that the variety an the effects depends partly upon the amount of the force, and partly upon the diversity of the collocations. The force itself is essentially one and the same ; and there exists of it in nature a fixed quantity, which (if the theory be true) is never increased or diminished. Here then we find, even in the changes of material nature, a perma- nent element; to all appearance the very one of which we were in quest. This it is apparently to which if to anything we must assign the character of First Cause, the cause of the material universe. For all effects may be traced up to it, while it cannot be traced up, by our experience, to anything beyond : its transformations alone can be so traced, and of them the cause always includes the force itself: the same quantity of force, in some previous form. It would seem then that in the only sense in which experience supports in any shape the doctrine of a First Cause, viz., as the primaeval and universal element in all causes, the First Cause can be no other than Force. We are, however, by no means at the end of the question. On the contrary, the greatest stress of the argument is exactly at the point which we have now 146 THEISM reached. For it is maintained that Mind is the only possible cause of Force ; or rather perhaps, that Mind is a Force, and that all other force must be derived from it inasmuch as mind is the only thing which is capable of originating change. This is said to be the lesson of human experience. In the pheno- mena of inanimate nature the force which works is always a pre-existing force, not originated, but trans- ferred. One physical object moves another by giving out to it the force by which it has first been itself moved. The wind communicates to the waves, or to a windmill, or a ship, part of the motion which has been given to itself by some other agent. In voluntary action alone we see a commencement, an origination of motion; since all other causes appear incapable of this origination experience is in favour of the conclusion that all the motion in existence owed its beginning to this one cause, voluntary agency, if not that of man, then of a more powerful Being. This argument is a very old one. It is to be found in Plato ; not as might have been expected, in the Phsedon, where the arguments are not such as would now be deemed of any weight, but in his latest production, the Leges. And it is still one of the most telling arguments with the more metaphysical class of defenders of Natural Theology. Now, in the first place, if there be truth in the ARGUMENT FOR A FIRST CAUSE 147 doctrine of the Conservation of Force, in other words the constancy of the total amount of Force in existence, this doctrine does not change from true to false when it reaches the field of voluntary agency. The will does not, any more than other causes, create Force : granting that it originates motion, it has no means of doing so but by con- verting into that particular manifestation a portion of Force which already existed in other forms. It is known that the source from which this portion of Force is derived, is chiefly, or entirely, the Force evolved in the processes of chemical composition and decomposition which constitute the body of nutrition : the force so liberated becomes a fund upon which every muscular and even every merely nervous action, as of the brain in thought, is a draft. It is in this sense only that, according to the best lights of science, volition is an originating cause. Voli- tion, therefore, does not answer to the idea of a First Cause; since Force must in every instance be assumed as prior to it ; and there is not the slightest colour, derived from experience, for supposing Force itself to have been created by a volition. As far as anything can be concluded from human experience Force has all the attributes of a thing eternal and uncreated. This, however, does not close the discussion. For though whatever verdict experience can give in the L 148 THEISM case is against the possibility that will ever originates Force, yet if we can be assured that neither does Force originate Will, "Will must be held to be an agency, if not prior to Force yet coeternal with it : and if it be true that Will can originate, not indeed Force but the transformation of Force from some other of its mani- festations into that of mechanical motion, and that there is within human experience no other agency capable of doing so, the argument for a Will as the originator, though not of the universe, yet of the kosmos, or order of the universe, remains unanswered. But the case thus stated is not conformable to fact. Whatever volition can do in the way of creating motion out of other forms of force, and generally of evolving force from a latent into a visible state, can be done by many other causes. Chemical action, for instance ; electricity ; heat ; the mere presence of a gravitating body ; all these are causes of mechanical motion on a far larger scale than any volitions which experience presents to us : and in most of the effects thus produced the motion given by one body to another, is not, as in the ordinary cases of mechanical action, motion that has first been given to that other by some third body. The phenomenon is not a mere passing on of mechanical motion, but a creation of it out of a force previously latent or manifesting itself in some other form. Volition, therefore, regarded as an agent in the material universe, has no exclusive privilege of ARGUMENT FOR A FIRST CAUSE 149 origination : all that it can originate is also originated by other transforming agents. If it be said that those other agents must have had the force they give out put into them from elsewhere, I answer, that this is no less true of the force which volition disposes of. "We know that this force comes from an external source, the chemical action of the food and air. The force by which the phenomena of the material world are pro- duced, circulates through all physical agencies in a never ending though sometimes intermitting stream. I am, of course, speaking of volition only in its action on the material world. We have nothing to do here with the freedom of the will itself as a mental pheno- menon — with the vexed a questio whether volition is self- determining or determined by causes. To the question now in hand it is only the effects of volition that are relevant, not its origin. The assertion is that physical nature must have been produced by a Will, because nothing" but Will is known to us as having the power of originating the production of phenomena. We have seen that, on the contrary, all the power that "Will possesses over phenomena is shared, as far as we have the means of judging, by other and much more powerful agents, and that in the only sense in which those agents do not originate, neither does Will originate. No prerogative, therefore, can, on the ground of experience, be assigned to volition above other natural agents, as a producing cause of pheno- T 9 Li