Transcriber's Note

The cover image was created by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.

OPINIONS OF THE PRESS.

Secular.

'The book is a distinctly readable one.'—Glasgow Herald, September 18, 1902.

'Really excellent little work.'—Daily News, September 26, 1902.

'We cannot commend it too highly.'—Western Morning News, January 2, 1903.

'Carefully thought-out little work ... written with frank and tolerant impartiality.'—Standard, May 26, 1905.

'The arguments are admirably marshalled; difficulties are not evaded, but met fairly.'—Westminster Review, August, 1905.

'We welcome a new edition.... The appeal of the book is evidently one to common sense, and the success it has met is fully deserved. There is a healthy lay atmosphere about Colonel Turton's arguments which renders them, we fancy, peculiarly effective.'—Pall Mall Gazette, March 11, 1907.

'It is difficult to know whether to admire most the logical precision with which he marshals his facts, and enforces his conclusions, or the charming candour, and freshness of style, which make his book so readable.'—Liverpool Daily Post, March 14, 1907.

'This is a new edition, thoroughly revised, of Lieutenant-Colonel Turton's famous book.... We are specially struck with the detached manner in which he examines the case; he holds the scales evenly, and is not rhetorical. Anyone who has any power of reasoning at all can follow him clearly from start to finish.'—Bristol Times and Mirror, February 18, 1907.

'It is a book for the hour, and needs to be circulated by thousands ... straightforward, manly, and convincing.'—Schoolmaster, March 27, 1909.

Church of England.

'The book is of considerable value to everyone who is concerned with the controversy on Christian Evidences; it presents a perfect storehouse of facts and the conclusions which may be legitimately drawn from them.'—Church Times, November 2, 1900.

'We have already expressed our high opinion of this work—the author of which, it may be mentioned, is serving in South Africa.'—Guardian, October 17, 1900.

'This thoughtful and convincing treatise.... We are glad to be able to give our good word for the book, which should be found in the catalogue of every public library in the kingdom. It is a volume admirably suited for a gift-book to young men. It furnishes an armoury of invincible weapons against the scepticism and semi-scepticism which are rampant among us.'—English Churchman, November 1, 1900.

'This very excellent volume.... We strongly recommend this book to the clergy for their own use and for lending to thoughtful and painstaking readers.'—Church Union Gazette, January, 1901.

'It is one of the best books of its class, readable, candid, convincing, and thorough. It would be cheering news to hear that it had been widely read. The book will continue to make its way; and all Christians will rejoice that it should do so.'—Church Intelligencer, October, 1905.

'We give a hearty welcome to this revised edition. It is admirably suited for general use.'—Churchman, February, 1909.

'This is a textbook on Christian Evidence we would readily place in the hands of the lay worker as an essential part of his equipment.'—Lay Reader, December, 1912.

'There is no padding, and no unnecessary rhetoric. All the available space is filled with good solid reasoning, put in simple language which an intelligent artisan can follow as easily as an educated person.'—Church Family Newspaper, October 3, 1902.

'Throughout the book the reader will be delighted with the sanity and level-headedness of the writer, whose frequent appeals to common sense are remarkably telling and effective.'—Birmingham Diocesan Magazine, October, 1907.

'The brilliancy of the author does not consist in his rhetoric or appeal, but in the really brilliant fairness which he displays towards the other side, in the accuracy with which he analyses each situation, and in the clear and simple arguments which he adduces.'—Church Standard, January, 1906.

'Personally, we have never met with any book which can be more confidently recommended.'—Church Army Review, December, 1912.

'This is the kind of book which strengthens believers and makes converts. It is one which should be placed within the reach of every lad at that period of his life when he begins to think for himself.'—The (Church Lads') Brigade, October, 1905.

Roman Catholic.

'We most heartily wish that a copy of it could be found in the library of every Catholic family, school, and institution.'—Catholic Times, January, 1909 (sixth notice).

'This excellent book, ... well written, attractive in its style, clearly thought out, and convincing.'—Tablet, August 29, 1903.

'This is a work of uncommon merit.... The style is clear and makes for pleasant reading. We wish many of our Catholic young men would try and analyse a chapter in Colonel Turton's helpful defence of Christianity.'—Universe, July 21, 1905.

'Having read and thoroughly approved every page of the book, we can well believe that many clergy and teachers are finding it a useful compendium of replies to all the chief arguments advanced against Christianity. Though written by a non-Catholic, we can most strongly recommend it as a book of the highest merit.'—Catholic Herald, February 19, 1909.

'A capital book already much used by priests in this country, and to be found upon the shelves of very many of our clerical libraries. But we wish that the Catholic paterfamilias would procure it too, and recommend it to his boys ... There is a masculine ring about it, and no shuffling over difficulties.'—Catholic Fireside, March 23, 1907.

Presbyterian.

'One does not know what to admire most in the book—the accurate knowledge gathered from so many fields, the clear reasoning, the sound judgment, or the fine spirit which animates the whole.'—Christian Leader, June 15, 1905.

'Admirably arranged and clearly expressed.'—Weekly Leader, October 6, 1902.

'One of the best books of its kind.'—St. Andrew, June 1, 1905.

'This is an admirable summary. It is clear, simple, and well arranged ... The style also makes it extremely readable.'—Presbyterian, March, 1906.

Nonconformist.

'He is eminently fair to opponents, clear in statement, and convincing in argument for his own case, and his standpoint, is unmistakably evangelical. His style suits his work, being calm, lucid, and simple.'—Methodist Times, August 22, 1901.

'Is a tried favourite, and has served the Kingdom in many lands. There is no book of the class known to us so complete and conclusive.'—Methodist Recorder, February 28, 1907.

'It deserves all the good that has been said of it.'—United Methodist, November 19, 1908.

'One characteristic may be singled out for notice—the writer's extraordinary alertness in the use of the most recent material. He seems to be continually on the watch for discoveries and suggestions, and to be able to utilise them promptly and skilfully.'—Baptist, January 21, 1909.

'On the whole, it is the best popular summary that we have met. It excels in definiteness of purpose, in clearness of statement, in moderation, and in conciseness.'—Baptist Times, October 24, 1902.

'The book is one that every young man would do well to read. Its absolute fairness, convincing logic, and withal extreme simplicity are such as cannot fail to establish the faith of multitudes.' Y.M.C.A. Review, December, 1912.

'The author's line of argument is irresistible in its rugged force. ... A fascinating book.'—Social Gazette (Salvation Army), April 27, 1907.

Agnostic.

'Again, as in 1902, we commend Lieutenant-Colonel Turton's book as a handy epitome of nearly all conceivable arguments in support of Christianity. The twenty-four chapters champion twenty-four propositions, and the whole thing is worked out as systematically as a problem in a successful student's honours paper. ...However, it is of no avail to argue such points with our well-meaning and unimaginative Lieutenant-Colonel; and we will merely remark that he is quite a gentleman, and uses no disdainful language towards the poor Agnostic.'—Literary Guide and Rationalistic Review, March, 1907.

'This remarkable volume contains over 500 pages, with scarcely a dull one among them. The author's easy flow of unlaboured thought, his facility of expression, and his fine gift of exposition, carry the reader on in spite of himself.... Differ as we may from much that is in the gallant Colonel's volume, we gladly pay him the respect due to frankness, cleverness, and transparency of mind and motive, and thank him for putting his own side of a great subject so simply and interestingly, and without prejudice or bitterness.'—New Age, August 3, 1905.

THE TRUTH OF CHRISTIANITY

THE
TRUTH OF CHRISTIANITY

BEING AN
Examination of the More Important Arguments For and Against Believing in that Religion

COMPILED FROM VARIOUS SOURCES BY
Lt.-Col. W. H. TURTON, D.S.O.
LATE ROYAL ENGINEERS

NINTH EDITION FORTIETH THOUSAND
(Carefully revised throughout)

LONDON
WELLS GARDNER, DARTON & CO., LTD.
3 AND 4, PATERNOSTER BUILDINGS, E.C.
AND 44, VICTORIA STREET, S.W.
1919

PREFACE TO NINTH EDITION.

I have again carefully revised the whole book. Some additions have been made here and there, especially in [Chapter XIX.]; but as a rule the alterations have been merely to shorten and condense the arguments where this could be done without spoiling them, and to simplify the language as much as possible. The book is thus shorter, and I hope simpler than any previous edition. Another slight improvement, which will commend itself to most purchasers, is reducing the price to 2s. net. The work, as before stated, lays no claim to originality, and I have not hesitated to borrow arguments and illustrations from any source. The references to the Bible are all to the Revised Version.

W. H. T.

29, Caledonia Place,
Clifton, Bristol,
October 1, 1919.

CONTENTS

PART I.
NATURAL RELIGION.

CHAPTER I.
THAT THE UNIVERSE HAD A CREATOR

(A.) The Origin of the Universe.

Explanation of the universe, its origin, a Free Force.

(1.) The Philosophical Argument. If the universe had not an origin, all events must have occurred before, and this seems incredible.

(2.) The Scientific Argument. From the process of evolution and the degradation of energy.

(B.) The Creator of the Universe.

The Single Supernatural Cause, which originated it.

It is proposed in this Essay to consider the reasons for and against believing in the truth of Christianity, meaning by that term, as will be explained later on ([Chapter XIII.]), the doctrines contained in the Three Creeds. For convenience the subject has been divided into three Parts, Natural Religion, the Jewish Religion, and the Christian Religion; but the second of these may be omitted by anyone not specially interested in that subject. At present we are considering Natural Religion only, which deals with the great questions of the Existence of God, and the probability, or otherwise, of His making some Revelation to man. And we will commence at the very beginning, though the first chapter will unfortunately have to be rather technical.

(A.) The Origin of the Universe.

Now by the universe is meant the material universe, which includes everything that exists (earth, sun, stars, and all they contain), with the exception of immaterial or spiritual beings, if there are any such. And by this universe having had an origin is meant that it was at some time acted on by a Free Force, that is to say, by a force which does not always act the same under the same circumstances, but which can act or not as it pleases. No doubt such a force would be totally different from all the known forces of nature; but there is no difficulty in understanding what is meant by the term, since man himself seems to possess such a force in his own free will. He seems for instance to be able to raise his hand, or not, as he likes. We are not, of course, assuming that man's will is really free, but merely that the idea of a free force, able to act or not as it pleases, is well known and generally understood.

Hence the statement that the universe had an origin means that at some time or other it was acted on by such a Free Force; in other words, it has not existed for ever under the fixed and invariable forces of nature, and without any external interference. We have now to consider the two arguments in favour of this, which may be called the Philosophical and the Scientific argument.

(1.) The Philosophical Argument.

By this is meant that, when we reflect on the subject, it seems inevitable that if the universe had not an origin, all present events must have occurred before. The reason for thinking this is, that if all free force is excluded, it is plain that matter must be eternal, since its coming into existence at any time could not have been a necessity, and must therefore have been due to some free force. It is equally plain that what we call the forces of nature and the properties of matter must also be eternal, since any alteration in them at any time would also have required a free force. And from this it follows that no new event can happen now. For every event which the forces of nature could possibly bring about of themselves would, since they have been acting from eternity, have been brought about long ago. Therefore present events are not new, but must have occurred before.

This is no doubt a possible theory. For example, if we assume that the universe will in process of time work itself back into precisely the same condition in which it was long ago as a nebula or anything else, when it will begin again precisely the same changes as before; then, and only then, is it possible that it has been going on doing so from all eternity. But this theory, though possible, is certainly not credible. For it requires that all events, past, present, and future, down to the minutest detail, have occurred, and will occur, over and over again. They must, in fact, form a recurring series. And when applied to a single example, say the history of the human race, this is seen to be quite incredible.

We must hence conclude that the universe has not existed for ever under the fixed forces of nature, and without any external interference; in other words, that it had an origin. No doubt there are difficulties in regard to this theory also, but they are mostly due to our ignorance. We may not know, for instance, whether matter itself is eternal. Nor may we know why, if a free force once acted on the universe, it never apparently does so at present, and still less can we picture to ourselves what such a force would be like; though the difficulty here is no greater than that of picturing a force which is not free, say gravity.

But our ignorance about all this is no reason for doubting what we do know. And it appears to the writer that we do know that, unless present events have occurred before, which seems incredible, the universe cannot have existed for ever without some Free Force having acted on it at some time. In short, it seems less difficult to believe that the universe had an origin than to believe that it had not.

(2.) The Scientific Argument.

And this conclusion is greatly strengthened by two scientific theories now generally accepted—that of the process of evolution and the degradation of energy; both of which seem to show that the universe had a beginning.

The first subject, that of Evolution, will be discussed more fully in the next chapter. All that need be said here is, that the atoms of the universe, with their evolving properties, cannot have existed eternally; for then the course of evolution would have commenced in the eternal past, and would therefore have been finished now. But this is certainly not the case, and evolution is still in progress, or at all events was so a few thousand years ago; and a state of progress cannot be eternal. It thus differs from a mere state of change which as we have seen, might be eternal, if the changes were recurring. But a state of progress, in which the changes are not recurring, but all tend in one direction, can never be eternal. It must have had a commencement. And this commencement cannot have been a necessity, so it must have been due to some Free Force. In short, evolution requires a previous Evolver; since it cannot have been going on for ever, and it cannot have started itself.

The other theory, that of the Degradation of Energy, is that all energy (motion, etc.) tends to heat; the simplest instance being that of two bodies hitting each other when a certain amount of motion is lost, and a corresponding amount of heat is produced. And heat tends to be equally distributed. The heat, for instance, which is now stored up in the sun will in process of time be distributed throughout space, and the same applies to the whole universe; so that everything will eventually have the same temperature. And though this may take millions of years, they are yet nothing to eternity. Therefore, if the universe with all its present forces has existed from eternity, and without any external interference, it must have been reduced to this state long ago. So if this theory is correct (and the only reason for doubting it, is the curious behaviour of radium), it seems not only probable, but certain, that the universe had an origin.

But an objection has now to be considered. It may be said that the above reasoning is merely another form of the old argument, 'Everything must have a cause, and therefore there must have been a First Cause;' the obvious answer to which is, that then this First Cause must also have had a cause, and so on indefinitely. But this is not the case; for the alleged First Cause is of a different kind from all the others. It is a Free Cause, whereas natural causes are not free, but are themselves effects of other natural causes; and these, again, of previous ones. What we want is a cause which is not also an effect, in other words, a cause which is not moved by anything else, but is moved by itself, or Free. When once we get to such a cause as this, there is no need for a previous one.

This objection, then, cannot be maintained, and we therefore decide that the universe had an origin. And all we know at present about the Force which originated it, is that it was a Free Force. And the conclusion at which we have arrived may be concisely expressed by saying, that before all natural causes which acted necessarily, there was a First Cause which acted voluntarily.

(B.) The Creator of the Universe.

We have next to consider what else we can ascertain in regard to this First Cause. To begin with it can scarcely be disputed at the present day that it was a Single Cause, as modern science has completely established the unity which pervades the universe. We know for instance that the same materials are used everywhere, many of the elements which exist on this earth being also found in the sun and stars. Then there is the force of gravity, which is all-embracing, and applies equally to the most distant stars, and to the most minute objects on this earth; and many other examples might be given. But it is scarcely necessary, as everyone now admits that the universe (as the word implies) is one whole, and this plainly points to a Single First Cause.

Nor can it be disputed that this First Cause was Supernatural, which merely means that it differs from natural forces in being free; for this is exactly what we have shown. It was thus no kind of gravitation, or electricity, or anything of that sort. All these and all similar forces would always act the same under the same conditions; while the Force we are considering was of a different kind. It was a Free Force, a Force which voluntarily chose to originate the universe at a certain time. And such a Force must clearly have been Supernatural.

In conclusion we will call this Single Supernatural Cause, which originated the universe, its Creator. And if it be objected that the universe may have had no origin, owing to some Free Force having been always acting on it, such a Force must also be Single and Supernatural, and may equally well be called its Creator.

CHAPTER II.
THAT THE CREATOR DESIGNED THE UNIVERSE.

Design means voluntary action, combined with foreknowledge.

(A.) Evidence of Design.

Seems overwhelming throughout organic nature; and we are not appealing to it to show the Creator's existence, but merely His foreknowledge.

(1.) The example of a watch: its marks of design show that it had a maker who foresaw its use.

(2.) The example of an eye: this also has marks of design, and must also have had a Designer.

(3.) The evidence cumulative.

(B.) The Evolution Objection.

(1.) The meaning of Evolution: it is a process, not a cause.

(2.) The effect of Evolution on the present argument: it increases the evidence for design.

(C.) The Free Will Objection.

(1.) Its great improbability: for several reasons.

(2.) Free Will and Foreknowledge not inconsistent; so the chief argument in its favour cannot be maintained. Conclusion.

Having decided that the universe had a Creator, we have next to examine whether the Creator designed the universe. Now by Design is meant any voluntary action, combined with foreknowledge of the results that will follow from such action. So when the Creator originated the universe, if He foreknew the results of His action, it would be to design those results, as the word is here used. And these include, either directly or indirectly, the whole course of the universe, everything that exists, or that ever has existed in the world.

By the word foreknew it is not meant that the Creator necessarily thought of all future events, however insignificant, such as the position of the leaves on each tree; but merely that He was able to foresee any of them He wished, and in this sense foreknew them. Compare the case of memory; a man may be able to remember a thousand events in his life; but they are not all before his mind's eye at the same time, and the insignificant ones may never be. In the same way the Creator may have been able to foresee all future events in the world's history without actually thinking about them. At all events, this is the kind of foresight, or rather foreknowledge, which is meant to be included in the term design.

(A.) Evidence of Design.

Passing on now to the evidence of design, this is of the most varied kind, especially throughout organic nature, where we find countless objects, which seem to point to the foresight of the Cause which produced them. The evidence is indeed so vast that it is difficult to deal with it satisfactorily. Perhaps the best way will be to follow the well-known watch argument of Paley, first showing by the example of a watch what it is that constitutes marks of design; next, how a single organ, say the human eye, possesses these marks; and then, the cumulative nature of the evidence.

(1.) The example of a watch.

Now, when we examine a watch, we see that it has marks of design, because the several parts are put together for a purpose. They are so shaped and arranged as to produce motion, and this motion is so regulated as to point out the hour of the day. While, if they had been differently shaped or differently arranged, either no motion at all would have been produced, or none which would have answered the same purpose. And from this, we may infer two things. The first is that the watch had a maker somewhere and at some time; and the second is that this maker understood its construction, and designed it for the purpose which it actually serves.

These conclusions, it will be noticed, would not be altered by the fact that we had never seen a watch made; never knew a man capable of making one; and had no idea how the work could be done. All this would only exalt our opinion of the unknown watchmaker's skill, but would raise no doubt in our minds either as to his existence, or as to his having made the watch for the purpose of telling the time.

Nor should we feel that the watch was explained by being told that every part of it worked in strict accordance with natural laws, and could not possibly move otherwise than it did; in fact, that there was no design to account for. We should feel that, though the action of every part might be in strict accordance with law, yet the fact that all these parts agreed in this one particular, that they all helped to enable the watch to tell the time, did show design somewhere. In other words, we should feel that the properties of matter could only partly account for the watch, and that it required a skilful watchmaker as well, who made use of these properties so as to enable the watch to tell the time.

Now suppose on further investigation we found that the watch also possessed the unexpected property of producing in the course of its movements another watch very like itself. It might, for instance, contain a mould in which the new works were cast, and some machinery which fitted them together. What effect would this have on our former conclusions? It would plainly increase our admiration for the watch, and for the skill of its unknown maker. If without this extra property, the watch required a skilful maker, still more would it do so with it. And this conclusion would not be altered by the fact that very possibly the watch we were examining was itself produced in this way from some previous one, and perhaps that from another. We should feel that, though each watch might be thus produced from a previous one, it was in no sense designed by it. And hence this would not in any way weaken our conviction as to the existence of a watchmaker somewhere and at some time who designed the whole series.

This, then, is the watch argument. Wherever we find marks of design, there must be a designer somewhere; and this conclusion cannot be altered by any other considerations whatever. If, then, we find in nature any objects showing marks of design, the obvious inference is that they also had a designer. And this inference, it should be noticed, does not depend on any supposed analogy between the works of man and the works of nature. The example of the watch is merely given as an example, to show clearly what the design argument is; but the argument itself would be just as sound if man never had made, and never could make, any object showing marks of design.

Moreover, to complete the example, we must assume that the existence of the watchmaker, and the fact of his having made the watch, are already admitted for other reasons. And we are only appealing to these marks of design to show that when he made the watch, he must have known that it would be able to tell the time, and presumably made it for that purpose. And in this case the inference seems, if possible, to be still stronger.

(2.) The example of an eye.

We will next consider the human eye as an example of natural organs showing marks of design. It is a well-known instance, but none the worse on that account. Now, in order to see anything clearly, it is necessary that an image or picture of it should be formed at the back of the eye, that is, on the retina from whence the impression is communicated to the brain. And the eye is an instrument used for producing this picture, and in some respects very similar to a telescope. And its marks of design are abundant and overwhelming.

To begin with, in both the eye and the telescope the rays of light have to be refracted, so as to produce a distinct image; and the lens, and humours in the eye, which effect this, somewhat resemble the lenses of a telescope. While the different humours through which the rays pass, prevent them from being partly split up into different colours. The same difficulty had of course to be overcome in telescopes, and this does not seem to have been effected till it occurred to some one to imitate in glasses made from different materials the effect of the different humours in the eye.[1]

[1] Encyc. Brit., 9th edit., vol. xxiii., p. 137.

In the next place, the eye has to be suited to perceive objects at different distances, varying from inches to miles. In telescopes this would be done either by putting in another lens, or by some focussing arrangement. In the eye it is effected by slightly altering the shape of the lens, making it more or less convex. A landscape of several miles is thus brought within a space of half an inch in diameter, though the objects it contains, at least the larger ones, are all preserved, and can each be distinguished in its size, shape, colour, and position. Yet the same eye that can do this can read a book at the distance of a few inches.

Again, the eye has to be adapted to different degrees of light. This is effected by the iris, which is a kind of screen in the shape of a ring, capable of expanding or contracting so as to alter the size of the central hole or pupil, yet always retaining its circular form. Moreover, it is somehow or other self-adjusting; for if the light is too strong, the pupil at once contracts. It is needless to point out how useful such a contrivance would be in photography, and how much we should admire the skill of its inventor.

Again, the eye can perceive objects in different directions; for it is so constructed that it can turn with the greatest rapidity right or left, up or down, without moving the head. It is also provided in duplicate, the two eyes being so arranged that though each can see separately should the other get injured, they can, as a rule, see together with perfect harmony. Lastly, our admiration for the eye is still further increased when we remember that it was formed before birth. It was what is called a prospective organ, of no use at the time when it was made; and this, when carefully considered, shows design more plainly than anything else.

On the whole, then, the eye appears to be an optical instrument of great ingenuity; and the conclusion that it must have been made by someone, and that whoever made it must have known and designed its use, seems inevitable.

These conclusions, it will be noticed, like the similar ones in regard to the watch, are not affected by our ignorance on many points. We may have no idea as to how an eye can be made, and yet feel certain that, as it exists, it must have been made by someone, and that its maker designed it for the purpose it serves.

Nor should we feel that the eye is explained by being told that every part of it has been produced in strict accordance with natural laws, and could not have been otherwise; in fact, that there is no design to account for. No doubt every single part has been thus produced, and if it stood alone there might be little to account for. But it does not stand alone. All the various and complicated parts of the eye agree in this one remarkable point, and in this one only, that they all help to enable man to see; and it is this that requires explanation. We feel that there must be some connection between the cause which brought all these parts together and the fact of man's seeing. In other words, the result must have been designed.

Nor does the fact that every organism in nature is produced from a previous one of the same kind alter this conclusion. Indeed, as was shown with reference to the watch, it can only increase our admiration for the skill which must have been spent on the first organism of each kind. Moreover, no part of the design can be attributed to the parents. If, for instance, the eyes of a child show design, it is not due to the intelligence or designing power of its father and mother. They have not calculated the proper shape for the lens, or the mechanism of the iris, and as a rule know nothing whatever about it. And the same applies to their parents, so that our going back ever so far in this way brings us no nearer to what we are in search of. The design is still unaccounted for, we still want a designer.

We hence conclude that the marks of design in the eye afford, at all events, what seems to be a very strong argument in favour of a Designer. And if only one eye existed in the universe, and there were no other mark of design in nature, this conclusion would be none the less clear.

(3.) The evidence cumulative.

But the argument is far stronger than this. It is cumulative in a triple sense. To begin with, an eye is found not in one man only, but in millions of men, each separately showing marks of design, and each separately requiring a designer. Secondly, the human eye is only one example out of hundreds in the human body. The ear or the mouth would lead to the same conclusion, and so would the lungs or the heart. While, thirdly, human beings are but one out of many thousands of organisms in nature, all bearing marks of design, and showing in some cases an even greater ingenuity than in the human eye. Of course, as a rule, the lower organisms, being less complicated than the higher ones, have less striking marks of design, but their existence is equally clear; the flowers of plants affording some well-known examples.

Nor is this all, for even the world itself bears traces of having been designed. Had it been a mere chaos, we might have thought that the Creator was unaware of what would be the result of His action. But a planet like our earth, so admirably adapted for the support of life, can scarcely have been brought about by accident.

We conclude then, on reviewing the whole subject, that there are countless objects in nature, more especially organs like the eye, which bear strong marks of having been designed. And then the Unity of Nature, and the fact that all its parts act on one another in so many ways (the eye for instance being useless without light), shows that if anything has been designed, everything has been designed. Now there are two, and only two, important objections to this argument, which may be called the Evolution and the Free Will objection.

(B.) The Evolution Objection.

The first objection is that the whole of nature has been brought about in accordance with fixed laws by the process of Evolution. Therefore, though it is possible the Creator may have foreseen everything that exists; yet the apparent marks of design in nature, being all the necessary results of these laws, do not afford any evidence that He actually did so. And before discussing this objection we must first consider what we mean by laws of nature and natural forces.

Now by a law of nature is meant any regular, or uniform action which we observe in nature. For example, it is called a law, or rule of nature that (with certain exceptions) heat should expand bodies, which merely means that we see that it does so. In other words, we observe that heat is followed by expansion, and we therefore assume that the one is the cause of the other. But calling it a law of nature for heat to expand bodies, does not in any way account for its doing so. And the same is true in other cases, so that a law of nature explains nothing, it is merely a summary of the facts to be explained.

It should also be noticed that a law of nature effects nothing. It has no coercive, or compelling power whatever. The law of gravitation, for instance, has never moved a planet, any more than the rules of navigation have steered a ship. In each case it is some power or force acting according to law which does it. And natural forces are those which, as far as we know, always act according to some fixed law. They have no freedom of choice, they cannot act or not as they like; they must always and everywhere act the same under the same circumstances. We pass on now to the subject of Evolution, first considering its meaning, and then its effect on the present argument.

(1.) The meaning of Evolution.

Now by the term Evolution is meant to be included the processes of Organic Evolution, Natural Selection, and the Survival of the Fittest. The former may be described as meaning that all the different forms of life now existing, or that ever have existed on this earth, are the descendants of earlier and less developed forms, and those again of simpler ones; and so on, till we get back to the earliest form of life, whatever that may have been.

And the theories of Natural Selection and the Survival of the Fittest explain how this may have taken place. For among the slight modifications that would most likely occur in every organism, those, and only those, would be perpetuated which were of advantage to it in the struggle for existence. And they would in time, it is assumed, become hereditary in its descendants, and thus higher forms of life would be gradually produced. And the value of these theories is that they show how Organic Evolution may have taken place without involving any sudden change, such as a monkey giving birth to a man. We must remember, however, that the subject is far from settled; and even now naturalists are beginning to doubt whether all the modifications were in reality very slight. But still, speaking broadly, this is the theory we have to discuss.

It will, of course, be noticed that Evolution is thus a process, and not a cause. It is the method in which certain changes have been brought about, and not the cause which brings them about. Every slight modification must have been caused somehow. When such modifications were caused, then Natural Selection can explain how the useful ones alone were perpetuated, but it cannot explain how the modifications themselves arose. On the contrary, it supposes them as already existing, otherwise there would be nothing to select from. Natural Selection, then, rather weeds than plants, and would be better described as Natural Rejection. It merely shows how, as a rule, among the various modifications in an organism, some good and some bad, the useless ones would disappear, and the useful ones would remain; in other words, how the fittest would survive. But this survival of the fittest does not explain in the slightest degree how the fitness arose. If, as an extreme example, out of a hundred animals, fifty had eyes and fifty had not, it is easy to understand how those that had eyes would be more likely to have descendants; but this does not explain how they first got eyes. And the same applies in other cases.

How, then, did the variations in each organism first arise? In common language they may be ascribed to chance; but, strictly speaking, such a thing is impossible. The word chance is merely a convenient term for the results of certain forces of nature when we are unable to calculate them. Chance, then, must be excluded; and there seem to be only two alternatives. Either the organisms in nature possessed free will, and acted as they did voluntarily; or else they did not possess free will, and acted as they did necessarily. The former theory will be examined later on; the latter is the one we are now considering.

(2.) The effect of Evolution.

How then would this theory affect our previous conclusion that the Creator designed all the organs of nature, such as the eye, and hence presumably the whole of the universe? As we shall see, it only confirms it. For to put it plainly, if all free will on the part of the organisms is excluded, so that they were all bound to act exactly as they did, it is clear that the earth and all it contains is like a vast mass of machinery. And however complicated its parts, and however much they may act on one another, and however long they may take in doing so, yet if in the end they produce an organ showing design, this must have been foreseen and intended by the Maker of the machinery. In the same way if a mass of machinery after working for a long time eventually turned out a watch, we should have no hesitation in saying that whoever made the machinery, and set it going, intended it to do so. And is the inference less clear, if it not only turned out a watch, but a watchmaker as well, and everything else that exists on this planet?

All then that evolution does is this. It shows that the whole of nature forms such a long and continuous process; that if the end has been foreseen at all, it must have been foreseen from the beginning. In other words, just as the Unity of Nature shows that if anything has been designed, everything has been designed; so Evolution shows that if it has been designed at all, it has been designed from the beginning. We must hence conclude that the organs in nature, such as the eye, which undoubtedly show design, were not designed separately or as after-thoughts, but were all included in one grand design from the beginning. And this can only increase our admiration for the Designer. Thus evolution, even in its most extreme and automatic form, cannot get rid of a Designer. Still less can it do so, if (as is probable) it is not automatic at all; but is due to the continuous action of the Creator, who is what is called immanent in nature, and directs every step.

It should be noticed, moreover, that in one respect evolution rather increases the evidence of design. For if, to take a single example, a human hand has been evolved from a monkey's foot merely by the monkey using it as a hand, and taking hold of things; it increases the amount of design which must have been spent on the foot to enable it to do so. And if all the organs in nature have been evolved in this way from simpler ones, it increases the amount of design which must have been spent on those simpler ones to an extent which is practically infinite.

Thus Evolution implies a previous Involution; since all forms of life must have been involved in the first form before they could be evolved from it; so that creation by evolution is more wonderful than creation by direct manufacture. And it seems to many to be a far nobler conception of the Creator that He should obtain all the results He desired, by one grand system of evolution, rather than by a large number of separate creations. For then the method in which the results were obtained would be as marvellous, and show as much wisdom and foresight as the results themselves; and each would be worthy of the other. Evolution, then, seems to be the highest form of creation; and so far from destroying the present argument, it only destroys its difficulties, by showing that every single part of every single organism may have been designed, and yet in a manner worthy of the great Creator.

Nor is the conclusion altered if we carry back the process of evolution, and assume that the earliest form of life was itself evolved from some previous form of inanimate matter; and this again from a simpler one, and so on till we get back to the original form of matter, whatever that may have been. For if the results as we now see them show design, then the argument for a Designer is not weakened, but our ideas of His skill are still further increased, if we believe that they were already secured when our earth was merely a nebula.

(C.) The Free Will Objection.

We have, lastly, to consider the other, and more important objection, that arising from Free Will. Why, it is urged, may not all organisms in nature have possessed free will within certain limits, and have selected those forms which suited them best? For example, referring to the case of a watch, if telling the time were of any advantage to the watch itself, and if the spring, wheels, and hands possessed free will; then it might be thought that they had formed themselves into that arrangement which suited them best. And if so, the idea that the watchmaker foresaw and intended them to adopt this arrangement seems unnecessary.

Now, in the case before us, as the organs showing design in nature, such as the eye, always conduce to the welfare of their possessor, the objection is certainly worth considering. But as we shall see, it is most improbable, while the chief argument in its favour cannot be maintained. It need scarcely be pointed out that we are not assuming that the organisms have free will, but merely admitting that they may have it; and if anyone denies this, the objection, as far as he is concerned, falls to the ground at once.

(1.) Its great improbability.

This is apparent because low down in the scale of nature (plants, trees, etc.), the free will of the organisms, if they have any, must be extremely limited; yet they bear unmistakable marks of design. While, in higher beings which have (or may have) an undoubted free will, it is hard to believe that it can effect anything like what is required. Would, for instance, wishing to see or trying to see, even if blind animals were capable of either, have ever given them eyes? And the same applies in other cases. It is hence most improbable that the marks of design in nature are due to the organisms themselves, rather than to their Creator.

But there is one important argument on the other side, which, if it could be maintained, would be sufficient to outweigh all this improbability. It is, that some beings, such as man, do, as a matter of fact, possess a free will, and that man can and does alter his condition, to a slight extent, by using that free will. Therefore, it is said, it is impossible for the Creator to have foreknown what man's condition would be, because free will and foreknowledge are necessarily inconsistent. But this latter point is disputed.

(2.) Free Will and Foreknowledge not inconsistent.

Now, although at first sight freedom of action seems inconsistent with any foreknowledge of what that action will be, yet on closer examination this will be found to be at least doubtful. For our own experience seems to show that in some cases, at all events, it is not in the nature of things impossible to know how a free being will act.

For example, I myself may know how, under given external conditions, I will act to-morrow. Never being sure of these, I cannot be said to actually foreknow the event; so that foreknowing with man is never more than foreguessing. But I may be quite sure how, under given conditions, I will act. For instance, I may know that, provided I keep in good health, provided I receive no news from anyone, provided, etc, I will go to my office some time to-morrow morning.

Yet I feel equally sure that this foreknowledge of mine does not prevent the act when it comes from being quite free on my part. My knowing this evening what I will do to-morrow does not oblige me to do it. My foreknowledge of the event does not bring the event about. It is in no sense its cause. The act when it comes is due to my own free will, I merely foreknow what use I will make of my freedom. And these are probably the common feelings of mankind on the subject.

It seems, then, that my foreknowledge need not be inconsistent with my free will. And hence, if I tell someone else how I will act, his foreknowledge would not be inconsistent with my free will. So that in some cases, and under given conditions, it does not seem impossible for a man to foreknow how another man will act, yet without interfering with his freedom. In short, free will does not seem to be necessarily inconsistent with the foreknowledge even of man, though it is always practically so, owing to man's imperfect knowledge of the surrounding circumstances. But the Creator knows, or may know, these circumstances fully, therefore it must be still less inconsistent with His foreknowledge.

Of course it may be said that if the Creator foreknows how I will act to-morrow, I am certain to act in that way; and this is doubtless true. But it does not follow that I need act in that way; for certainty is not the same as necessity. This is obvious enough in regard to a past event. I certainly did it, but I need not have done it; and it may be equally true in regard to a future event. I will certainly do it, but I need not do it. Therefore the Creator may know that I will do it, though it will still be free on my part.

And this is strongly confirmed when we reflect that the difficulty of knowing how a free being will act, however great in itself, seems as nothing compared with the difficulty of creating a free being. Apart from experience, we should probably have thought this to be impossible. Yet man has been created somehow. Is it then unlikely that the Being who was able to overcome the greater difficulty, and create a free man, should also be able to overcome the lesser difficulty, and foreknow how he would act?

Moreover, if free will and foreknowledge are always and necessarily inconsistent, then the Creator cannot have any foreknowledge of His Own acts, or else they are not free on His part; neither of which seems at all probable. We are not, of course, arguing from this that He actually does foreknow how He will act Himself, or how a free man will act, but only that it is not in the nature of things impossible that He should do so; in other words, that free will and foreknowledge are not necessarily inconsistent.

And this is precisely what we had to show. The marks of design in nature afford what seems to be overwhelming evidence in favour of the foreknowledge of the Creator. The objection we are considering is that, in spite of all this evidence, we must still deny it, because some of the organisms in nature, such as man, possess a free will; and therefore any foreknowledge is in the nature of things impossible. And the instant it is shown that such foreknowledge is not impossible, the objection falls to the ground.

We may now sum up the argument in this chapter. We first explained that by Design was meant any voluntary action combined with foreknowledge of the results of that action. We next considered the evidence for design in nature, taking, as a single example, the human eye. And this evidence appeared complete and overwhelming; more especially as we were not appealing to it to show the existence of a Creator, which is already admitted, but merely His foreknowledge. And we have since considered the two apparent objections to this argument arising from Evolution and Free Will. But when carefully examined, the former only strengthens the argument, while the latter does not weaken it. We therefore conclude, on reviewing the whole subject, that the Creator designed the universe.

CHAPTER III.
THAT THE EXISTENCE OF GOD IS EXTREMELY PROBABLE.

(A.) Meaning of the Term God.

The Personal Being who designed and created the universe.

(B.)Two of God's Attributes.

Wisdom and Power. He is also Omnipresent.

(C.) The Objection that God is Unknowable.

This is partly true; but everything is unknowable in its real nature, though in each case the partial knowledge we can obtain is all we require.

(D.) Summary of Argument.

The position in the argument at which we have now arrived is this. We showed in the last chapter that the Creator designed the universe; in other words, that when he created it, He foreknew its future history. And from this the next step, as to the existence of God, is quite plain; in fact, it is merely a question of words.

(A.) Meaning of the term God.

Now any being who is able to design we will call a personal being. And God is the name given to the Personal Being who designed and created the universe.

But it ought to be noticed, before we pass on, that the term personal being is also applied to man, and is said by many writers to involve the three ideas of thought, desire, and will. But these seem to be all included in design; for if I design anything, I must first of all think of it, then wish it, and then accomplish it.

We will examine in the next chapter whether man is a personal being as we have used the term; but if we admit that he is, we have another and independent argument in favour of the Creator being so too. For the Creator has somehow or other produced man, with all his attributes; so He cannot be a mere impersonal Being or Force, since a cause must be able to account for its effect. And a free and intelligent man cannot be due to a Force, which is neither free nor intelligent. Therefore, if man is a personal being, it follows that man's Maker must be so too.

It should also be noticed that man's mind and spirit, which make him a personal being, cannot be discovered by any physical means. And this meets the objection that we cannot discover God by any physical means. It would be much more surprising if we could. But though the telescope can find no God in the heavens, just as the microscope can find no mind in man, the existence of each may be quite certain for other reasons. In popular language, all we can see is the house, not the tenant, in either case.

(B.) Two of God's Attributes.

We must next notice somewhat carefully two of God's attributes, Wisdom and Power. Both of these are involved in the idea of a Personal Being able to design. For design, as used in this Essay, means originating or freely doing anything, as well as previously planning it. Therefore, if we use the word, as is often done, for planning alone, we must remember that a personal being is one who can both design and accomplish. The former implies a mind able to form some plan, and the latter a free force, or will, able to carry it out. So a personal being must of necessity have wisdom to design and power to accomplish. And considering the vastness of the universe and the variety of its organisms, it seems only reasonable to conclude that the Creator possesses these attributes to the greatest possible extent, so that He is both Omniscient and Omnipotent.

It is important, however, to notice the meaning given to these words. By Omniscient, then, we mean possessing all possible knowledge. Now the only knowledge which might be thought impossible is how a free being would act in the future, and we have already shown that such knowledge is not in the nature of things impossible; so there does not seem to be any necessary restriction here.

But with Omnipotent the case is different. This means, as just said, possessing all possible power; that is to say, being able to do anything which is not impossible. Of course some Christians may be inclined to answer, that with God all things are possible; but as He who said so began one of His own prayers with the words if it be possible, this cannot be taken in its widest sense.[2] And provided the word impossible is used in its strict meaning, we have no reason for thinking that God could do impossible things; such as make a triangle with the properties of a circle, or allow a man a free choice between two alternatives, and yet force him to choose one of them. These, then, are two of the great attributes of God, Wisdom and Power. There is a third, which will be considered in [Chapter V.]

[2] Matt. 19. 26; 26. 39.

It should also be noticed that besides being the Designer and Creator of the universe in the past, God seems to be also its Preserver at the present, being, in fact, the Omnipresent Power which is still working throughout nature. That there is such a Power can scarcely be denied (however hard it may be to realise), and that it is the same as the Creating Power is plainly the most probable view. God is thus the Cause of all natural forces now, just as He was their Creator in times past; and what are called secondary or natural causes, have probably no existence. They may, indeed, be called secondary forces, but they are not causes at all in the strict sense; for a cause must be free, it must have the power of initiative. Thus man's free will, if it is free, would be a real secondary cause, but the forces of nature are mere links in a chain of events, each of which is bound to follow the previous one. This is often spoken of as the Divine Immanence in nature, and means little else than the Omnipresence of a Personal God—the all-pervading influence of One 'who is never so far off as even to be called near.'

(C.) The Objection that God is Unknowable.

We must lastly consider an important objection which may be made to the whole of these chapters. It may be said that the human mind is unable to argue about the First Cause, because we have no faculties for comprehending the Infinite; or, as it is commonly expressed, because God is Unknowable.

Now this objection is partly true. There is a sense in which all will admit that God is Unknowable. His existence and attributes are too great for any human mind to comprehend entirely, or for any human language to express completely and accurately. Therefore our statements on the subject are at best only approximations to the truth. We can apprehend His existence, but we cannot comprehend it, and God in His true nature is certainly Unknowable.

But, strictly speaking, it is the same with everything. Man in his true nature is also unknowable, yet we know something about man. So, again, the forces of nature are all unseen and unknowable in themselves, yet from their effects we know something about them. And even matter when reduced to atoms, or electrons, or anything else, is still a mystery, yet we know a good deal about matter. And in each case this knowledge is not incorrect because it is incomplete. Why, then, should the fact of God being in His true nature unknowable prevent our having some real, though partial, knowledge of Him? In short, we may know something about God, though we cannot know everything about Him.

And it should be noticed that Natural Religion and Natural Science are alike in this respect—they are both founded on inferences drawn from the observed facts of nature. For example, we observe the motion of falling bodies, and infer the existence of some force, gravity, to account for this. Similarly, we observe the marks of design in nature, and infer the existence, or at least foresight, of some Being who designed them. In neither case have we any direct knowledge as to the cause of what we see. And in some respects Religion is not so unknowable as Science. For our own, real or apparent, mind and free will do give us some kind of idea as to the existence of a personal being, apart from what he does; while of a natural force, such as gravity, apart from its effects, we can form no idea whatever. Thus our knowledge of every subject is but partial, and it finally leads us into the Unknowable.

But now comes the important point. This partial knowledge, which is all we can obtain in either Science or Religion, is all we require. It is not a perfect knowledge, but it is sufficient for all practical purposes. Whatever the force of gravity may be in itself, we know what it is to us. We know that if we jump off a cliff we shall fall to the ground. And so in regard to Religion. Whatever God may be in Himself, we know what He is to us. We know that He is our Maker, and therefore, as will be shown in the next chapter, He is the Being to whom we are responsible. This is the practical knowledge which we require, and this is the knowledge which we can obtain.

Moreover, though our reason may be to some extent unfit to judge of such matters, the vast importance of the subject seems to demand our coming to some conclusion one way or the other. This is especially the case because important results affecting a man's daily life follow from his deciding that there is a God, and to leave the question undecided is practically the same as deciding that there is not a God. In the same way, if a ship were in danger of sinking, and a steamer also in distress offered to take off the passengers, for one of them to say that he did not know whether it was safer to go in the steamer or not, and would therefore do nothing and stay where he was, would be practically the same as deciding not to go in the steamer. So in the case before us. To refuse to decide the question because of the supposed inadequacy of human reason is practically the same as to deny the existence of God.

Still, it may be urged, granting that our reason must decide the question one way or the other, and granting that our reason seems to force us to conclude in the existence of God, are there not great difficulties in honestly believing this conclusion? No doubt there are, and no thoughtful man would think of ignoring them. But after all it is only a choice of difficulties; and, as we have shown, there is less difficulty in believing what we have here maintained than the contrary. It is less difficult, for instance, to believe that the universe had an origin, than to believe that it had not. Similarly as to the existence of God; the theory is not free from difficulties, but, with all its difficulties, it is still by far the most probable theory to explain the origin and present state of the universe. We therefore decide, judging by reason alone (which is the line adopted in this Essay), that the existence of God is extremely probable.

(D.) Summary of Argument.

In conclusion, we will repeat very briefly, the main line of argument thus far. To begin with, in the present universe we observe a succession of changes. If these changes are not recurring, which seems incredible, they must have had a commencement; and this is supported by the theories of Evolution and the Degradation of Energy. Therefore, as this commencement cannot have been a necessity, it must have been due to some Free Force. And a Free Force must be a Supernatural Force, since natural forces are not free, but always act according to some fixed law, while the unity of nature points to its being a Single Supernatural Force, which we called the Creator.

Next, it follows that the Creator must have foreknown the consequences of His acts, judging by the marks of design which they present. And this conclusion was shown to be not inconsistent with either the process of evolution, or the existence of free will in man or other beings. Hence He must have been a Personal Being, possessing both Wisdom to design, and Power to accomplish.

Or the whole argument may be repeated in an even shorter form. The universe (in its present condition) has not existed always, it is therefore an effect,—something that has been effected, or brought about somehow; and therefore like every effect, it must have had a Cause. Then since the effect shows a certain unity throughout, the Cause must have been One. Since the effect shows in some parts evidence of having been planned and arranged, the capacity for planning and arranging must have existed in the Cause. In other words, a universe showing marks of design is the effect, and nothing less than a Personal Being who designed it can be the Cause. And God is the name given to this Personal Being.

CHAPTER IV.
THAT MAN IS A FREE AND RESPONSIBLE BEING.

(A.) Man's Mental Attributes.

Man possesses a mind as well as a body; the opposite theory, materialism, has great difficulties.

(B.) Man's Moral Attributes.

(1.) Man possesses a will.

(2.) Man's acts are partly determined by his will.

(3.) Man's will is free.

(4.) Man knows that his will is free; and this enables him to design, and makes him a personal being.

(5.) Man's responsibility for his acts.

(6.) Man's moral sense of right and wrong; which enables him to distinguish the quality of acts, and makes him a moral being.

(7.) Man's conscience, by which he can judge of this quality in some cases.

(C.) Difference between Animals and Men.

There is a great mental difference, though probably only of degree; and entire moral difference, since animals, even if free, do not possess a known freedom, and are hence not personal beings.

(D.) Conclusion.

Man consists of three parts, body, mind, and spirit: his unique position.

Having decided on the Existence of God, which is the great truth of Natural Religion, the question now arises whether, if nature can lead us so far, there is no means of getting further. No one will deny that further knowledge is desirable, both as to God, ourselves, and our future destiny, and is there no means of obtaining it? And this brings us to the subject of Revealed Religion, that is to say, of God's making some Revelation to man. And the probability of this will depend partly on the character of man—is he a being at all worthy of a revelation; and partly on the Character of God—is He a Being at all likely to make one? The former question alone will be discussed in this chapter, and we will consider man's mental and moral attributes separately. Nothing need be said about his bodily or physical characteristics, as they have no bearing on the present argument.

(A.) Man's Mental Attributes.

By these are meant man's thoughts and feelings, and that they are different from the matter composing his body seems self-evident. Matter possesses size, weight, colour, shape, and hardness. Mind does not possess any of these. They have no conceivable meaning when applied to thoughts and feelings. Yet both mind and matter exist in man. We each feel conscious that we have something which thinks, and which we call mind; as well as something which moves, and which we call matter (i.e., our bodies); and that these are absolutely distinct from one another. And from the nature of the case this inherent conviction is all we can appeal to. For mind, if it exists at all, being different from matter, is beyond the reach of ordinary scientific discovery. We cannot however be more certain of anything than of these inherent convictions, which form the basis of all our knowledge. Even the propositions of Euclid are only deductions from some other of our convictions, such as that the whole is greater than its part.

Still the difficulty of understanding this compound nature in man, part mind and part body, has led some persons to adopt the theory of materialism. According to this there is no such thing as mind; what we call thoughts and feelings being merely complicated motions of the molecules of the brain. Now, that the mind and brain are closely associated together none will deny, but it does not follow that they are identical. The brain may be merely the instrument of the mind through which it acts. And though, as far as we know, the mind can never act without the brain, it may certainly have a separate existence, and possibly, under different conditions, may be able to act separately. It is in fact no more difficult to conceive of thought without a brain, than to conceive of thought with a brain. All we can say is, that within the range of our experience the two seem to be somehow connected together.

Recent investigations, however, in what is called telepathy (or thought-transference) seem to show that in some cases one mind can influence another at a distance, and without any material connection. And this (if admitted) proves that the mind is something more than a mere collection of particles of matter.

Moreover materialism, to be consistent, must deny not only that man has a mind, but that he has anything immaterial at all; he must be matter in motion, and nothing else. But this is disproved by our memory, which convinces us that we are the same persons now as we were ten years ago; yet we know that every particle of our bodies, including our brains, has changed in the interval. We must then have something immaterial which survives, in spite of everything material changing.

The case, it should be noticed, is not like that of a tree, which may be popularly said to be the same now as it was ten years ago, though every particle of it has changed in the interval. For as far as we know, the tree has nothing which connects its present state with its former state, it has no memory of what happened to it then. We have, that is just the difference. We can remember now what happened to us ten years ago, though our bodies now do not contain a single atom or molecule which they did then. We must, therefore, have something else besides atoms and molecules, in other words, something immaterial; and if so, there is an end of materialism in its only logical form.

This theory then cannot possibly be accepted, and we must abide by our inherent conviction that we have a mind as well as a body. This is an ultimate fact in human nature; and we are as certain of it as we are of anything, though like some other ultimate facts it has to be assumed, because it can be neither proved nor doubted.

(B.) Man's Moral Attributes.

We pass on now to man's moral attributes, which we will consider in detail.

(1.) Man possesses a will.

In the first place man possesses what, in common language, is called a will. Strictly speaking, of course, the will is not anything independent of the man, which he possesses, as he might possess a dog; it is the man himself who wills, or who possesses the power of willing. But the common language is so generally understood, that it will be used here. Now the chief reason for believing that man has a will is his own inherent conviction. He feels certain that he does possess a will which is distinct from his body and his mind, though closely associated with both, and apparently to some extent controlling both. For example, I may resolve to raise my hand, and then do it; or I may resolve to think out a problem, and then do it. In each case the will is felt to be something distinct from the subsequent bodily or mental action.

(2.) Man's acts are partly determined by his will.

In the next place, a man's acts (and also his thoughts) are partly determined by his will. By this is meant that a man's will is able to move his limbs, so that, for instance, he can raise his hand when he wishes, and this gives him the power of determining his acts. It is not meant that a man's will can move his limbs directly; his limbs are moved by his muscles, which are directed by his nerves, and these by certain motions in the brain. All that the will can do is to give a particular direction to these motions, which, combined with various other forces, brings about the observed result.

Now we have in favour of this action of the human will on the human body the universal experience of mankind, which is that a man can somehow or other move his limbs at pleasure. Indeed, the question whether a man can walk across the room when he wishes, seems to most people to admit of a convincing answer: solvitur ambulando. But still, the action of will on matter seems so improbable, and so difficult to understand, that attempts have naturally been made to find some other explanation.

But no satisfactory one can be suggested. For my wishing to move my body, is followed by my moving it so frequently and so universally, that there must be some connection between them. And though we cannot imagine how a mere wish can move particles of matter (in the brain or anywhere else), it is just as hard to imagine how the movement of particles of matter can produce a wish. The latter theory is no easier to understand than the other; and, as just said, it is opposed to the daily experience of mankind, which is that a man's will can, somehow or other, move his limbs, and hence determine his acts.

(3.) Man's will is free.

It must next be noticed that man's will is a free will, and this is a most important point. It is quite distinct from the previous question. Then we decided that a man's raising his hand, for instance, was the result of his wishing to do so. We have now to consider whether this wish was free on the man's part, or whether he could not help it; the latter view being called that of Necessity, or Determinism, and meaning that a man's acts are necessarily determined, and not free. Of course everyone admits that there are limits to human freedom. A man cannot always raise his hand when he likes, it may be paralyzed. The important point is whether he is ever free; and there are two main arguments on each side.

Now the great argument in favour of free will is, again, our own inherent conviction. It is one of the most universal, and one of the most certain, beliefs of mankind that he has free will. This belief is forced upon him by his own daily experience. He feels, for instance, that he is free to raise his hand or not. And what is more, he can verify the fact by actually raising it, whenever he likes; so it is literally true to say that the conviction rests on the daily experience of the human race. And to many, this argument alone seems conclusive.

But, as a matter of fact, it is fully confirmed by human conduct. For a man's conduct is variable and quite unlike the uniformity which we find in chemistry and physics, where there is no free force, and everything is brought about in accordance with fixed laws. So we seem to require some free force in man to account for his variable conduct. These, then, are the two arguments in favour of free will—man's inherent conviction, confirmed by his variable conduct; and no more powerful arguments can be imagined.

On the other hand, the chief argument against human freedom is that it would be an anomaly in nature; since natural forces always act in the same way, and any free force, able to act or not as it likes, is quite unknown. If, then, man possesses such a force, no matter how limited it may be, he is partly, at least, a supernatural being, not bound by fixed laws.

Now all this may be admitted, but what then? Why should not man be a partly supernatural being? God, Who has made man, is Supernatural; He possesses free will, and He might, if He thought fit, bestow some of this attribute on man, allowing him, that is to say, within certain limits, to act in one way or another. No doubt, to persons who study physical science alone, the existence of any free force in man seems most improbable. But, on the other hand, to those who study the actions of men, such as barristers, soldiers, or politicians, the idea that man is a mere machine seems equally improbable.

And does not the same principle apply in other cases? Suppose, for instance, that a man were to study inorganic chemistry alone, living on an island where vegetation was unknown, would not a tree be a complete anomaly to him? Yet trees exist and have to be allowed for. In the same way man's free will may be an anomaly, but the evidence for it is overwhelming.

Moreover, the anomaly is greatly lessened by the fact that man already occupies a very anomalous position. For as we have seen, his acts are often determined by his will, and this is utterly unlike anything that we find elsewhere in nature. Indeed the action of a will is as great an anomaly as its freedom; and with the possible exception of animals (see further on) we have no experience whatever of a will that can act and is not free. Therefore claiming freedom for a man, is not like claiming freedom for a mineral, or a plant. He is anyhow a unique being, by far the highest and most important on this planet; and that he should be partly supernatural as well does not seem so very unlikely after all.

We must also remember that we know more about ourselves where we are conscious of freedom, than we do about the surrounding universe, where we infer a rigid uniformity. Indeed, our own free will is the only force of which we have any direct knowledge, and the so-called forces of nature, such as gravity, are, strictly speaking, only assumptions which we make to account for observed facts. And, as we have shown, even these forces seem to have originated in the Free Will of the Creator; so as far as we can judge, free will, of some kind is the ultimate cause of all force.

The other important argument against free will is that it would be inconsistent with what is called the Conservation of Energy, since it is said any voluntary act would involve the creation of energy. But this is at least doubtful; for the will might be free as to its acts, were it only able to control energy without producing it. And it could do this if it possessed the power of altering either the time, or the direction of force; deciding, for instance, whether to raise my hand now, or a minute hence, or whether to raise my right hand or my left. And if it possessed either of these powers, it could turn the latent force, which a man possesses, into actual motion when and how it pleased. And it would thus be free as to its acts, without creating any energy at all.

We therefore decide on reviewing the whole subject, that man's will is free; since this alone agrees with his own inherent conviction, and fully accounts for his variable conduct. While, on the other hand, though an anomaly in nature, it is not on that account incredible; nor is it inconsistent with the conservation of energy.

(4.) Man knows that his will is free.

Having now decided that man's will is free, little need be said about the next point, which is that man knows that his will is free, since, as we have shown, this is the chief argument for admitting its freedom. There are, however, many other arguments for proving that man believes that he has a free will, for it is shown by his acts. It is this known freedom which enables a man to set before him an end, and deliberately work towards it; in other words, it enables him to design, and makes him a personal being, as we have used the term. And it is needless to point out that the evidence of human design is universal. Again, human language affords a conclusive proof that man has always and everywhere believed himself to be free; for such terms as I will, I choose, I decide, exist in all languages. However, we need not pursue this subject, since it is undisputed that man believes that he has a free will; and it is taken for granted in all human affairs.

(5.) Man's responsibility for his acts.

By this is meant that a man is responsible for the way in which he uses his freedom; and this seems to follow at once from his knowing that he is free. Moreover, a sense of responsibility is among the inherent convictions of mankind. Of course, there may be exceptions to this as to most other rules; but taking mankind as a whole, he certainly believes in his own responsibility.

He also believes that this responsibility is in the first place to God, or some other supernatural Being. No doubt he is also responsible to his fellow-men, more especially to those among whom he is living; but a moment's reflection will show that this is not the leading idea. For a man must in the first place be responsible to his Maker rather than to his fellow-men. In the same way a child is first of all responsible to his parents, and then, secondly and consequently, to his brothers and sisters. Therefore, because God has made us, we are responsible to Him; and because He has placed us among other men, and presumably wishes us to take some part in human society, we are in a lesser degree responsible to them also. So the brotherhood of man, as it is called, naturally follows from the Fatherhood of God.

(6.) Man's moral sense of right and wrong.

In the next place, man has the remarkable faculty of distinguishing the quality of acts which are free, regarding some as right and others as wrong, the latter being called sins. And it may be noticed in passing, that the existence of moral evil or sin seems to many to be an additional argument in favour of man's freedom; otherwise God would be the sole author of man's misdeeds. Of course, in this case, they would not be really sins, for if man has no free will, he is a mere machine, and can no more sin against God (or man either) than a watch can sin against its maker. Such a man might be imperfect, and so might a watch, but he could not be wicked; yet few will say that there are no wicked men in the world. Now we will call a being who is thus able to distinguish the quality of acts a moral being. Man is therefore a moral being, having this moral sense, as it is called, of distinguishing right from wrong.

It will perhaps make the meaning of this moral sense plainer if we compare it with one of man's other senses, say that of sight. The one, then, distinguishes right from wrong, just as the other distinguishes red from yellow, or blue from green. And as man's sense of colours is not disproved by one man thinking a colour blue which another thinks green—or his sense of taste, by one man thinking a taste nice, which another thinks nasty—so his moral sense is not disproved by one man thinking an act right which another thinks wrong.

Moreover this sense of right and wrong is quite distinct from the pleasant or unpleasant consequences which are associated with certain acts. For instance, I may avoid putting my hand into hot water, because I remember having done so before, and it was painful; but this is quite different from avoiding an act because it is wrong. It is also quite distinct from expediency, or the idea of benefiting by an act. For an act may not benefit us at all, or may even injure us, and yet it may be right. In short, 'fifty experiences of what is pleasant or what is profitable do not, and cannot, make one conviction of what is right'; the ideas differ in kind; and not merely in degree.

(7.) Man's conscience.

Lastly, as to man's conscience. This is often confused with his moral sense, but a little reflection will show that the two are distinct. For a man might possess a moral sense, and be able to classify acts as right or wrong, yet have no direct means of knowing to which class any particular act belonged. He might have to work this out by reasoning; and in difficult cases we sometimes do so. But as a rule this is unnecessary. For mankind possesses a very remarkable something, called a conscience, which tells him at once, and without either argument or reasoning, that certain acts are right and others wrong. Conscience is thus like an organ of the moral sense, and may be compared to the eye or organ of sight; for just as the eye perceives that certain colours are red and others blue, so conscience perceives that certain acts are right and others wrong. In each case the perception is almost instantaneous, and quite distinct from any kind of reasoning.

Conscience, it will be noticed, does not make the act right or wrong, any more than the eye makes the colour red or blue; it merely tells us what acts are right and what wrong. It is thus an intermediary between Someone else and ourselves; and this Someone else can only be God, Who gave us our conscience, so that in popular language it may be called the Voice of God. And it tells us we ought to act right, because this is the way in which God wishes us to act.

Now that mankind possesses a conscience is indisputable. It is shared alike by young and old, rich and poor, educated and uneducated. It has existed in all ages, countries and races. We all have it, and what is very remarkable it seems to be independent of our will, and not at our disposal. We do not correct it, but it corrects us; for it not only tells us what acts are right and what wrong, but it approves definitely of our doing the former, and disapproves just as definitely of our doing the latter. Indeed, one of the most striking effects of conscience is this feeling of remorse or self-condemnation after wrong-doing; and such a feeling is practically universal.

And if it be objected that one man's conscience may say that an act is right, which another man's conscience says is wrong, we must remember that the decision of a man's conscience, only refers to the man himself. It tells a man what is right for him, with his knowledge and surroundings, and it is quite possible that this may be wrong for another man.

These, then, are the moral attributes of the human race, and it follows at once that man is a free and responsible being. But as this conclusion is often disputed, because of the similarity between animals and men, and the difficulty of admitting that they also are free and responsible beings, or else of showing where the distinction lies, we must examine this subject.

(C.) Difference Between Animals and Men.

Now the bodily difference between certain animals and men is admittedly small; and though the accompanying mental difference is enormous, it is probably only one of degree; for all animals seem, to some slight extent, to possess a mind, which enables them at least to feel conscious of pleasure and pain. We must therefore pass on to the moral attributes of animals; and as we know nothing as to their feelings on the subject, it is difficult to say (referring to the first three points) whether they have a free will or not. Of course, if they have not, that would be a clear distinction between animals and men. But we have no right to assume this, and there is a good deal to be said on the other side, at least in regard to the higher animals, so the question had better be left open.

But with regard to the next point, that of known freedom, we are on surer ground; for the proof of man's believing himself to be free does not depend solely on his own feelings. It is shown by his acts, as it enables him to design, and it is doubtful if there is anything corresponding to this in animals. For though many of their works show design somewhere, it does not seem to be due to them. This kind of unconscious designing (which strange to say is most apparent in the lower forms of animal life) is called instinct, and there are at least three reasons for thinking that it differs from real design implying forethought.

The first is, that, if these works were due to the design of the animals themselves, they must possess intellectual powers of a very high order. Take, for instance, the well known example of the cells of bees. These are built on the most perfect mathematical principles, the three rhombs which close the hexagonal columns having the exact angles so as to contain the greatest amount of honey, with the least expenditure of wax. And as we require advanced mathematics and a book of logarithms to work out such problems, it is hard to see how the bees can do it. Nor is heredity of any use, for the bees which build cells are all workers (as they are called) and have no descendants; while those which have descendants are either drones or queens, and these do no building. Thus the cells are built by bees, none of whose ancestors have ever built cells; so the design cannot be ascribed to anything they have inherited from their parents.[3] Secondly, animals are only able to design in a few special cases, and in other respects they often act with the greatest stupidity. A bee, for example, with all its mathematics, cannot very often, if it has flown in through an open window, retrace its way, but will buzz helplessly against another which is shut.

[3] Encyc. Brit., 9th edit., vol. iii., pp. 490, 484. The angles are 109° 28' and 70° 32'.

Thirdly, the instincts of animals are practically the same, always and everywhere. They are not more advanced in some countries, than in others; or in some individuals, than in others. They are not even more advanced as time goes on. The last cell built by a bee is no better than the first, and no better, as far as we know, than cells built by bees thousands of years ago; while the young of animals, without any experience to guide them, have the same instincts as the old. Clearly, then, an animal's instinct is born with it, and not acquired; and therefore, any apparent design there may be in what is done by instinct cannot be attributed to the animal itself, any more than the design shown in its eyes, but to its Maker.

So far all is plain. It may, however, be urged that in some of the higher animals, especially those in contact with man, we do find certain acts which seem to imply forethought and design. A dog, for example, will bury a bone one day, and go and look for it the next. But when once it is admitted that what are apparently far more striking instances of design are to be explained by instinct, it seems better to explain them all in the same way.

And this is confirmed by the fact that even the higher animals do not appear to have any idea of responsibility, or any sense of right and wrong, which in man are the result of his known freedom. Of course, this also may be disputed, since as we punish a dog for doing what we dislike, it looks as if we held it responsible for the act. But this does not follow. We punish the dog to prevent its repeating the act. And it may avoid doing so, because its memory associates the act with pain, and not because it feels responsible for it, or considers it to be wrong. While in the vast majority of cases we never think of holding an animal responsible for its acts, or look upon its injuring anyone as a sin. We conclude, then, that moral attributes form the great distinction between animals and men; because though animals have, or may have, a free will, it is not a known freedom, so they are not able, like men, to design, and are hence not personal beings.

Two further remarks may be made before leaving this subject. The first is, that though there are difficulties in placing this known freedom as the difference between animals and men, there are as great, if not greater, difficulties in placing it anywhere else. If we say that an ape or a dog can design, the difficulty is not lessened; it is merely transferred lower down the scale. Can a jellyfish design? The momentous attribute of known freedom must begin somewhere; and it seems less difficult to place it between animals and men than anywhere else.

The second and more important point is, that our ignorance about animals is no reason for doubting what we do know about man. To do this would be most illogical. Indeed, we might as well deny that a man could see, or hear, because there are difficulties in deciding where sight and hearing commence in the scale of animal life.

(D.) Conclusion.

We may now conclude this chapter. With regard to man, it is clear that his bodily, mental, and moral attributes are quite distinct. A man may be strong in body, yet of weak intellectual power; or he may have a great intellect, yet be of weak moral character. This makes it probable that human nature consists of three parts—body, mind, and spirit; the mind corresponding to the mental reasoning part of man, and the spirit to the free moral part, the word soul being often used for either of these latter.

And the difference between animals and men is probably that the former have no spirits, but only bodies and (undeveloped) minds. All life on this planet would then form three great groups—vegetation, consisting of matter alone; animals, of matter and mind; man, of matter, mind, and spirit. And from this it seems to follow that while a man's body may (conceivably) have been evolved from any other form of matter, and his mind from any other form of mind, yet his spirit is essentially distinct, and cannot have been evolved from anything else.

Moreover, as a man's body and mind are both (to some extent) under the known control of his free will, or spirit, this latter must be looked upon as his real self. Thus he is not, strictly speaking, an organism at all, but a free being served by organs both of body and mind. They are his; they do not constitute him. He is the personal being, who controls both. In other words man is a spirit, and has a body and mind.

And our present conclusion is quite plain. We have shown that man is a free being, his freedom distinguishing him from natural forces, and making him in part supernatural. And he is a responsible being, his responsibility being due to his known freedom, and distinguishing him from animals. He has thus a unique position. Nothing else on this planet resembles him, and in his attribute of known freedom which enables him to design, and makes him a personal being, he resembles God alone.

CHAPTER V.
THAT GOD TAKES AN INTEREST IN MAN'S WELFARE.

(A.) The Evidence in its Favour.

Since God is a Moral as well as a Personal Being, He must be capable of caring for all His creatures; and we have abundant evidence that He does so, especially for man. But there are two great difficulties.

(B.) The Insignificance of Man.

(1.) Some counter-arguments, showing that even if insignificant, God might still care for him.

(2.) Man's real importance, due to his mind and spirit.

(3.) The supposed inhabitants of other planets.

(C.) The Existence of Evil.

(1.) Physical evil in animals. The objection that it is vast in amount, wholly unmerited, and perfectly useless, cannot be maintained.

(2.) Physical evil in man. Several ways of lessening the difficulty. Its explanation seems to be that God's designing evil does not mean His desiring it, as it is essential for forming a man's character.

(3.) Moral evil in man. The possibility of this is essential to free will; and wicked men are as necessary as any other form of evil.