cause. But if we saw a number of such projectiles striking the object and all hitting it upon a certain mark, we should immediately conclude that the projectiles were aimed at that mark, and therefore that the whole was the result of some moral volition. . . . Nor would it make any difference in our conclusion whether or not we could discover any particular end which might be answered in striking the object," &c.1 General laws, fixed and constant system, these are proofs of a moral cause, and preclude the idea of blind unseeing fatality. In the same spirit writes Herschel: "When we see a great number of things precisely alike, we do not believe this similarity to have originated except from a common principle independent of them; and that we recognise this likeness chiefly by the identity of their deportment under similar circumstances, strengthens rather than weakens the conclusion. A line of spinning-jennies or a regiment of soldiers dressed exactly alike and going through precisely the same evolutions, gives no idea of independent existence, &c. If we mistake not, then the discoveries alluded to effectually destroy the idea of an eternal self-existent matter, by giving to each of its atoms the essential characters at once of a manufactured article and a subordinate agent." 2

The assumption, however, is still the same, viz., that mind, and mind only, can account for order and adjustment. In neither of the above passages is there any better reasoning than that already examined. The manifestation of a pervading principle does not of itself justify the inference to intelligence; nor do the effects here described destroy the probability of an "eternal self-existent matter." Even positive proof of design would not go this length. The evidence of purpose in the parts of a watch do not show that its contriver made also the brass and the steel, nor even that he conferred upon the steel the elasticity of which he avails himself. There is

1 Connection of Natural and Divine Truth.

2 Natural Philosophy.

not, indeed, the faintest evidence in the nature of the things themselves to support the conclusion arrived at. What evidence have we of mind in the thousand instances of order and symmetry known to every one? Drops of water hit the same spot on a stone, without design, till they bore a hole in it. Certain substances cooling under pressure assume geometrical figures as orderly and as regular as a regiment of soldiers, e.g., basaltic columns. The illuminated point of a vibrating rod, fixed at one end, traces patterns resembling the work of rose-engine turning, e.g., Wheatstone's Kaleidophone. The figures obtained in Chladni's experiment of exciting by means of a violin bow square plates slightly covered with sand, and occasionally damping the vibrations with finger and thumb, are still more complicated and symmetrically beautiful. If the retort be: These last are artificially produced, and therefore equivalent to designed results; I say it is easy to conceive their production by unconscious agents; at any rate, the symmetrical results are due to mechanical laws. If with Coleridge we ask, "Can material objects apply geometry and calculations to themselves?" "Are material particles the joint artists of their own combinations?" the answer must be: Under such and such circumstances they do behave in such and such a way. Beyond this we know nothing. Moreover, there is the old alternative of which the sceptical Philo reminds us: "Instead of admiring the order of natural beings, may it not happen that, could we penetrate into the intimate nature of bodies, we should clearly see why it was absolutely impossible they could ever admit of any other disposition?"

LETTER II.

Of all the difficulties which obstruct religious faith, in its popular form at least, the existence of EVIL is undoubtedly the most insurmountable. The Epicurean dilemma is, and remains, unanswerable. If we accept a CREATOR, we must impute to him limited power or indifference. There is no other course. If harmony and adjustment prove a designer, what does unfitness, and all the misery it entails, prove? Admit creation, and we shackle belief with the imperfection of the work. If there were but one vibrio in existence, that one would gnaw the vitals out of the design argument. Yet, does not every organism, like the dread parasite, prey upon or live at the expense of other life? Ingenious writers have cast up the sums of good and ill, and given to God the benefit of a doubtful residue. But all the subterfuges ever devised to palliate suffering are sophisms which insult our intelligence and mock our anguish. The whole crust of this planet is one vast graveyard of unthinkable misery. No hope of eternal heaven can blot it out; no realisation of eternal bliss can make past agony unsuffered. Yet the believer in an omnipotent Creator must also believe (let him deny it if he can) that God designed this suffering. To realise in thought what this creed implies, and then hold to it, would inevitably plunge a rational being into a hell of despair.

Fortunately, although " omnipotence" is the bane of belief, there is no pretext whatever for inserting it in our creed. If we look to Nature for any indications of the divine attributes, such evidence as we may be thought to

have is directly opposed to the notion of infinite power. This view of the subject is well set forth in Mill's "Essay on Theism." His chapter on "attributes" is especially noteworthy for the closeness of the reasoning, and contains some valuable ideas not to be found in the works of his great master; although this particular point was far too important to be overlooked by Hume. "Supposing," says Cleanthes, "the author of Nature to be finitely perfect -though far exceeding mankind-a satisfactory account may then be given of natural and moral evil, and every untoward phenomenon be explained and adjusted. A less evil may then be chosen in order to avoid a greater; inconveniences be submitted to in order to reach a desirable end; and, in a word, benevolence, regulated by wisdom and limited by necessity, may produce just such a world as the present." In his essay on the "Utility of Religion" Mill says: "One only form of belief in the supernatural-one only theory respecting the origin and government of the universe-stands wholly clear both of intellectual contradiction and of moral obliquity. It is that which, resigning irrevocably the idea of an omnipotent Creator, regards nature and life, not as the expression throughout of the moral character and purpose of the Deity, but as the product of a struggle between contriving goodness and an intractable material."

Why then is the adoption of this hypothesis the choice of an evil in any sense? It appears to me to be the choice of a great, though not unmitigated, good. It is on this supposition alone that the character of a moral governor of the world can in a measure be saved. Omnipotence covers all other attributes. If we suppose the

Deity to be almighty, we must banish completely the idea of his wisdom; for since omnipotence can effect a given purpose by any means it pleases, there can be no wisdom in the selection of means: one is as good as another.1 Perfect knowledge, again, is quite compatible with limited 1 Mill's Theism.

power, but is destructive of absolute benevolence if coupled with omnipotence.

It is vain to struggle against these conclusions on the favourite score that the divine attributes are above our comprehension; for, those who resort to this plea must be reminded that they are the very persons who found the whole argument from design upon the assumed analogy between God and man. Considering the immense difficulties in which this article of our faith involves us, it is strange that we should cleave to it with such bigoted affection. Not only is it objectionable, it is irrational. Every indication of design in the world is so much evidence against the omnipotence of the designer; for what is meant by design, contrivance, the adaptation of means to an end, but the necessity for contrivance? The need of employing means is a consequence of the limitation of power.1 Besides which, what can be more absurdly inconsistent than to admit of an antagonistic power like the Devil, and yet reject as blasphemy the notion of finite power in the Deity? As if the traditional faith in the Devil did not already clandestinely assert the limitation.

Mill echoes Hume, and goes so far as to say, "Grant that creative power was limited by conditions the nature and extent of which are wholly unknown to us, and the goodness and justice of the Creator may be all that the most pious believe," &c. I regret that I am unable to accept this view without reservation. If we reject omnipotence, this is the position we come to: Wherever evil results from mere imperfection, it would be irrational to ascribe that evil to the Deity; but wherever evil results from complicated mechanism, one of the manifest ends of which is pain, the supposition of finite power will not solve the problem. A homely instance may illustrate the case. Toothache, which arises from the imperfection of the teeth, may be due to the inherent properties of dentine. But the consummate apparatus for poisoning the serpent's fang and the sting of

1 Loc. cit.