The geologist who finds the rude drawing of an animal on a fossil-bone, or even the rudest flint arrow-head or flake, sees in them evidences of design and intention which can only be the product of the mind of man, and utterly repudiates the suggestion that they were the result of chance; and if he sees still more elaborate design in the works of nature, how can he avoid the conclusion that they also are the result of intelligence?

Take, for instance, the ear of man. It is a wonderful contrivance, by which not only is the mind enabled to distinguish the force, the volume, the distance, the direction of every sound, but also its character, or the difference between the voices of animals, and even between the sounds of different musical instruments, so that the mind is able to recognise the cause of each, and not only so, but to recognise and distinguish between each note of music. It is a contradiction in terms to say that this elaborate design is the result of chance; it is impossible to conceive that it is so, and if not it must have been intended.

But as we proceed with our inquiry we are forced to another conclusion. We might at first have thought that the works of nature were the work of many minds, but the more we examine them the more we are convinced that all are so correlated as to produce a combined and harmonious whole; that, in short, there is that unity in nature which proves that they could only have been the work of one, and not of many minds, and that there is the same unity of law, and combinations of laws, as far as we can ascertain, throughout the whole universe.* If so, then the Author or First Cause of all must be ' a Mind,' and therefore a Mind of infinite wisdom. Attempts are made to discredit this conclusion by

See Unity of Nature,' Duke of Argyle.

calling it the carpenter theory of Creation,' which implies that everything is supposed to be formed by the Creator as a carpenter makes a box; but the conclusion implies nothing of the sort. The ear and every other organ of man, and man himself, and every animal and every plant, are not constructed and 'built up' by the Creator, but are the products of life and generation. What that life is, and how it works to produce even the growth of a plant, we know not; but this we do know, that it is the result of forces acting on fixed laws. The roots of a vine have been known to travel for a quarter of a mile in a straight line towards the soil and water it required for its nourishment, and in like manner a plant in a cellar will grow straight towards the one aperture by which light enters. In like manner we may conceive that all the functions of life, and of every form of life, are the result of innumerable forces of attraction and repulsion, some common to all, and some peculiar to each form, with which they were endowed from the first by the Creator, in order to produce the results we see. There is no parallel here, or point of comparison, to any of the works of man, save in the fact of intention common to both. Even if we admit the theory of evolution, we must still suppose that the potentiality for the development of each form was originally implanted in it, ready to be called forth by change of circumstance or environment, and that all was foreseen and intended.

An objection is made by some to the evidence of design, that there is apparently a constant failure of intention in the boundless waste of Nature, and in the abortive growths which are without object. Now, all these are undoubtedly evidences of defect and imperfection, or of natural evil.' But it has been shown in Section I., chapter i., that this imperfection and evil must necessarily accompany all things which are natural, that death and decay and change are the conditions of all natural existence, and

that the pain and suffering, consequent thereon, teach us that such things are doomed, and that freedom from suffering is impossible to moral defect or imperfection.

Now, just in proportion as man is higher than the mere animals, so is moral perfection higher than physical perfection, and everything, in consequence, fades into insignificance in comparison with man's moral education. If so, we may conceive that there may be no want of intention in the evidence before us that all that is natural is imperfect, and doomed to death and decay. But is there therefore waste in nature? Not a particle of matter is lost, or an ounce of force. They change only into new forms as useful and as necessary as the previous forms, each of which has a purpose to fulfil in the future, as in the case of those countless organisms which have died to form some of the most important strata of the earth's surface. The only seeming waste is that of life. But what is life? Where does it go to? How do we know that it is wasted?

The chief objection to the argument from design' is that it is supposed to compare the Creator's method of creation with man's method of construction; and this, as shown, overlooks the real point at issue, which is the fact of design, not the manner in which it is carried out. Thus Mr. Spencer says: If for a moment we adopt the 'grotesque supposition that the ticking and other move'ments of a watch constituted a kind of consciousness, ' and that a watch possessed of such a consciousness in'sisted on regarding the watchmaker's actions as determined, like its own, by springs and escapements, we should simply complete a parallel of which religious 'teachers think much.' He supposes a watch to have a

*

mind capable of observation and reflection, and therefore to be in that respect very like the watchmaker. But in that

* First Principles - The Reconciliation,' p. 111.

case we should certainly suppose that a watch, of ordinary observation and intelligence, would come to the conclusion that there were great and inexplicable differences between its movements, and those of the watchmaker. Mr. Spencer, after bestowing reason on his watch, has denied his assumption by denying it the attributes of reason. But the point of comparison which is made by those who have used the watch simile, is not between man's method of making a watch and God's method of making man, but in the evidence of design in each result. If an intelligent watch was to devise and carry out some plan for winding itself up, it would not be altogether wrong if it concluded that the watchmaker had constituted its automatic movements by the exercise of an intelligence similar to, but greater than its own.

6

CONCLUSION.

In conclusion, let it be observed that the moral effect of regarding the Creator as absolute,'' unrelated,' and 'unknowable' is the same as that of denying His existence. Mr. Spencer says: It seems somewhat strange 'that men should suppose the highest worship to be in assimilating the object of their worship to themselves, not ' in asserting a transcendent difference, but in asserting 'a certain likeness.'* What is the higher worship' Mr. Spencer would substitute? Why should any be so foolish as to worship that which they know not, and which, being in no way related to them, cannot affect them? Would it not be the highest wisdom' not to worship that which is unaffected by their worship, to cease from doing that which can be of no possible benefit to them, and to dismiss from their minds that which it is useless to think of? He says again: 'Religion continues to be irreligious 'because it professes to have some knowledge of that

'First Principles,' p. 109.

But what religion can

'which transcends knowledge.'* there be of the unknowable'? Religion consists of trust, dependence, loyalty, reverence, and obedience. But how can

we trust that which we do not know, or obey commands we have never heard of? But if, in any degree, the will of the Creator may be known, then surely the truest religion would be to endeavour to ascertain and obey it.

Again, he says, 'A sincere recognition that our own and all other existence is a mystery absolutely and 'for ever beyond our comprehension contains more true religion than all the dogmatic theology ever written.'+ But what religion there is in assenting to the fact that everything in its essence must remain unknown to us, is not apparent.

Here, however, as in other places, he confuses and treats as if it were one the undoubted fact that the First Cause, being infinite, must in His essence be unknowable, with the assertion that the First Cause is also 'the absolute.' In the latter case, which is not true, He would be wholly unknowable; but in the former our ignorance of the nature and essence of His existence in no way prevents our attaining a relative knowledge of Him; just in the same way as,-although we cannot know the mind of another in its nature and essence of existence, we may yet know it most intimately by its characteristics.

So, again, arguing from the absolute,' he says that 'we are not permitted to conceive the reality behind the ' veil of appearance; and yet it is said to be our duty to 'believe, and thus in a manner to conceive, that this 'reality exists in a certain defined manner. Shall we call 'this reverence, or shall we call it the reverse?' But who considers it his duty to believe that the infinite ' exists in a certain defined manner'? Do we conceive

'First Principles,' p. 101. + Ibid., p.

112.

+ Ibid., p. 110.