CHAPTER VII. THE ALLEGATION THAT NO TESTIMONY CAN PROVE THE TRUTH OF A

SUPERNATURAL EVENT.

Hume’s position, which affirmed that it is impossible to prove the truth of a supernatural event by any amount of testimony however strong, is certainly one of the most plausible that have ever been assumed by unbelief. Stated briefly and in his own words, it is as follows: “A miracle is a violation of the laws of nature; and as a firm and unalterable experience has established these laws, the proof against a miracle from the nature of the fact is as entire as any argument from experience can possibly be imagined.” Again: “No testimony is sufficient to establish a miracle unless the testimony is of such a kind that its falsehood would be more miraculous than the fact which it endeavours to establish.” The fallacy of these positions, notwithstanding the plausible arguments by which they are supported, has already been pointed out by a multitude of writers. Mr. Mill himself has practically abandoned Hume’s argument as either a harmless truism, or, in another point of view, one that requires to be modified to such an extent as to deprive it of any real cogency. Under ordinary circumstances, therefore, it might be passed over in silence.

But the author of “Supernatural Religion” has endeavoured to rehabilitate it even against Mr. Mill. He affirms that Christian “Apologists find it much more convenient to evade the simple but effective arguments of Hume, than to answer them; and where it is possible, they dismiss them with a sneer, and hasten on to less dangerous ground.” He then endeavours to show that Mr. Mill has been partly misapprehended, and is partly inaccurate; and he proceeds to address himself to Paley’s argument against Hume, as though it was relied on by modern apologists as entirely conclusive. No other writer is even noticed by him. In the recent work of the late Mr. Warington, “Can I believe in miracles?” one chapter is devoted to the calm and dispassionate examination of Hume’s argument. It is perhaps the ablest dissection of it in existence. Yet this writer, who charges Christian apologists with evasion, and even with getting rid of its force by a sneer, has left Mr. Warington’s crushing reply to Hume completely unnoticed. The position taken by him renders a few general observations necessary. As it will be useless to repeat arguments that have been fully elaborated elsewhere, I shall content myself with briefly stating the positions which have been firmly established on this subject.

First: Experience consists of two kinds; 1st, That which has fallen under our own direct cognizance, which from the nature of the case must have been very limited. 2dly, The general experience of all other men, as far as we have the means of knowing it. This latter experience we become acquainted with exclusively by testimony, and it rests entirely on its validity. The two together constitute what we mean when we say that a thing is, or is not, contrary to experience.

Secondly: There is a sense in which miracles are contrary to our experience. They would be destitute of all evidential value, if they were not so. But while this is freely admitted, we must lay down clearly in what sense we use the words. They are not so, in the sense that we have had direct evidence of their non‐occurrence. They are contrary to our experience only in the sense that we have never witnessed them, and that the order of events which we have witnessed is always different; for instance, we have witnessed as a matter of experience that men die, and that none return again to life; or that blind men, when cured, are never cured by a word or a touch. In this sense alone it is that the resurrection of a dead man, and the cure of a blind man by a touch, is contrary to our experience.

Thirdly: It is not true that an occurrence which in this sense is contrary to our experience cannot be believed on adequate testimony. If it were so, all additions to our knowledge that lie beyond the limits of our past experience, ought to be rejected. Every extraordinary occurrence must be at once pronounced incredible.

Fourthly: The experience of one age differs from that of another. That which lies outside the experience of one century becomes within the experience of the next. The truth is that the sum of human experience is receiving continual additions, in proportion as the sphere of observation enlarges. If it is true that we ought to reject everything contrary to experience, it follows that if many of the inventions of the present age had been reported in a previous one, they ought to have been rejected as incredible. For example: if a century ago it had been affirmed that a message had actually been conveyed one thousand miles in five minutes, the assertion ought on this principle to have been rejected as contrary to the universal experience of mankind. In an earlier age, no miracle could have been more difficult to believe. Yet although contrary to prior experience, it has been established as a fact. The principle, therefore, as laid down by Hume, leads to an absurd conclusion.

Fifthly: The experience of each individual is limited by his own observation and what he has learned respecting that of others. This constitutes as far as he is concerned the experience of mankind. Now, under the Equator the experience of man is that each day and night is twelve hours long. Neither he, nor his ancestors, nor any person whom he trusts, have ever had any other experience than this. To him, therefore, the affirmation that there is a place on the earth where each day and night is six months long, is contrary to experience, and ought to be rejected as a fable.

Sixthly: If we confine experience to scientific experience, extraordinary discoveries are made and facts established in one age which are contrary to that of a former one. On this principle, the ground on which Herodotus rejected the story of the Phœnician navigators that they had sailed round Africa was satisfactory. It was contrary to his experience that they should have seen the sun in the position in which they affirmed that they had seen it, though it is not contrary to ours.

Seventhly: Miracles viewed as mere _phenomena_ stand on exactly the same ground as very unusual occurrences, or very wonderful discoveries. As far as they are contrary to past experience, they are alike credible or incredible. They are events of which the cause is unknown, but may or may not hereafter be discovered. It is quite true that any extraordinary phenomenon requires a stronger testimony to render it credible than an ordinary occurrence. But this involves no question of abstract possibility or impossibility, but is one purely of evidence, each case having to be decided on its own merits. It must be carefully observed that when we affirm that this or that matter lies within human knowledge, or is contrary to it, experience has to do with phenomena alone. All questions of causation lie entirely beyond its cognizance.

Eighthly: The moment we view an event otherwise than as a mere phenomenon, and take into consideration the causes producing it, however unusual it may be, it is impossible to affirm that it is contrary to experience. When we take these into consideration the entire character of the event is at once changed, and the probability of the occurrence must be estimated on wholly different grounds. Under such circumstances, an extremely improbable event, which we might otherwise justly reject as contrary to experience, becomes simply one of which we have had no experience. Thus it is contrary to experience that men can live for one hour under water, but when we take into consideration and thoroughly understand the contrivance of the diving‐bell, the event becomes one of a different order from that of which we supposed that we had experience. Before this apparatus was invented, the assertion that men could live an hour under water would have been rejected as fabulous. The invention has introduced a fresh condition into the case. The event has now become a portion of our experience; but prior to the discovery of the apparatus it was merely an event lying outside our experience, and not to be rejected as being contrary to it. In a similar way, a miracle, as a mere phenomenon, may be said to be contrary to our experience; but the moment that we take into account its true character, viz. that its very conception implies the presence of a force of some kind with which we were previously unacquainted, then such an event is no longer one which we can pronounce contrary to our experience, but merely one which lies beyond or outside it. In the case of miracles, therefore, the position of Hume is inapplicable.

Ninthly: It is not true that in estimating the truth of testimony, we simply balance probability, against probability, as stated in Hume’s argument. The form in which it has been put by him is too abstract to admit of application to individual cases; nor does any man, in estimating the truth of testimony for practical purposes, set down and deliberately balance probabilities against probabilities. The whole process is of a far more instantaneous character, and a number of minute considerations are involved, which do not admit of statement in the form of general propositions. Thus, if an event lying outside my present experience is reported to me by a friend on whose veracity and powers of judgment I have implicit reliance, I accept the truth of his statement, notwithstanding a great degree of abstract improbability; it being assumed that the event was one in which it was impossible that he should be deceived. In estimating this latter point, we never balance the probabilities as to the truth or falsehood of human testimony, but we consider the individual circumstances of the case, whether they are of such a nature that our friend could be deceived about them. If on consideration we are convinced that deception was impossible, we yield assent to his known veracity, although, as far as we know, the event reported by him has never before come within the range of human experience.

Let me remove the question from an abstract into a concrete form. There are numberless events in which it happens that men of unquestionable judgment and veracity are deceived. There are others in which no deception can be possible. An instance of one class is the alleged case of persons living a considerable time without food. Here astuteness may impose on the vigilance of the most wary. Take, on the other hand, the case of a man born blind. One informant, on whose veracity we have the fullest reliance, tells us that he has known the man from his birth; that, up to a certain day, his blindness was established beyond all reasonable doubt to every one who knew him, that on that day, he saw a person touch the eyes of the blind man, who not only instantly received his sight, but could use his eyes as perfectly as those who had enjoyed the use of them from birth. I admit that this case is a supposed one, and does not exactly represent any case recorded in the Gospels. But though an assumed one, it is perfectly valid for the purposes of argument. In it deception would be impossible. If all this was affirmed to have come under the direct knowledge of one, of whose veracity and judgment we were assured, we should accept his statement as true, without balancing the abstract probability of the truth of evidence against the probability of its falsity, although the event narrated lay outside the range of our experience. Our knowledge of the judgment and veracity of the informant is the essential element in judging of the truth of evidence. It is only when our means of forming this judgment are deficient that we attempt to balance abstract probabilities.

Tenthly: The question of the truth of testimony as against past experience and the alleged greater probability that testimony should be false, than that past experience should be unreliable, is greatly modified by the consideration that an overwhelming amount of the sum total of past experience rests for its acceptance on the validity of testimony itself. That portion which is not the result of our own individual experience rests for its truth exclusively on the validity of human testimony, and must be unreliable in proportion as testimony is invalid. It must be observed, however, that I by no means deny that testimony is much more frequently invalid in its narrations of extraordinary events than of ordinary ones.

Eleventhly: While it is freely conceded that the evidence to prove the truth of a very extraordinary occurrence must be far stronger than that which is required to prove an ordinary one, it must never be forgotten that the amount of evidence necessary to prove any particular fact always varies with the amount of the antecedent probability of its occurrence. The very same action may be credible or otherwise, just in proportion as we can discern an adequate purpose for its performance, or infer the presence of a particular motive. If, for example, it were reported that a man of the highest character had been seen during the hours of early morning issuing from one of the lowest haunts of vice in London, those who knew him well would require an overwhelming amount of evidence to establish the truth of the assertion. They would undoubtedly fall back on the question of abstract probability, and argue that it was more likely that it was either a case of mistaken identity (a very common error), or a deliberate falsehood, than that the statement should be true. But, if, on the contrary, it could be shown that he had been sent for to visit a dying person, and had gone at his particular request, the whole of the antecedent improbability would vanish, and the otherwise incredible testimony would become perfectly credible. It follows, therefore, that the credibility of testimony varies with our knowledge of the motive for the performance of the action.

This consideration ought to have due weight in considering the evidence of miracles. Viewed as mere phenomena, their abstract improbability is great. When they are viewed as deviations from the ordinary course of nature, their improbability becomes still greater. But those who believe in the existence of a personal God energizing in the universe at every moment, and in every place, postulate the presence of a force fully adequate to work them, for this is involved in the idea of God. But the question arises, Will He? Until a well‐attested miracle has actually been performed, the antecedent probability derived from our experience of the order of nature is against the supposition that He will, and throws on the reporter the necessity of giving a stronger proof than we require for an ordinary fact. But in proportion as we can show that it is probable that God will make a revelation, the antecedent improbability of a miracle is diminished; and if it can be shown that it is very probable that He will do so, it wholly disappears.

It will be readily admitted that such an argument can only have weight with a believer in the existence of a God, who is the moral Governor of the Universe. To him, however, it is of the utmost value, for on the supposition in question, the probability of some higher manifestation of the divine character than that displayed in the material universe does not rest on theory, but on the facts of man and his condition. Looking at the past history of the world, it is matter of fact that God has made higher and higher manifestations of himself. So far it is antecedently probable that He will continue to do so. His last manifestation has been in the production of a being possessed of a moral nature, with powers capable of immense elevation. It is also no theory, but a fact, that this moral being now is, and ever has been within the historical periods in a state of great imperfection. It is therefore highly probable that the Creator will adopt means for elevating the moral being whom He has created, and that He will effect this by acting, not on matter, but on mind. Contemplating the actual state of man, the known law of the Creator’s previous action, and the moral character of God, the antecedent probability that God will make a further manifestation of himself is established quite independently of the facts or assertions in the Bible.

Twelfthly: Whatever be the supposed antecedent improbability of an occurrence, it is capable of being overcome by an amount of evidence which can leave no reasonable doubt in a mind endowed with common sense. Theoretical objections may be adduced against any evidence which can be brought in proof of particular facts, but the ultimate appeal must be, not to a multitude of abstract theories, but to the common sense of mankind. Of this character is all historical evidence. It rests on the same principles as those which guide us in the affairs of daily life. There is a certain amount of evidence which leaves no doubt on the common sense of mankind, although it may be open to many theoretical objections. Such evidence is capable of proving a fact against a very high degree of antecedent improbability. Mr. Mill may be considered as a witness whose predilections were all in favour of unbelief. Yet his clear logical mind has led him to state the case fairly as far as the _à priori_ probability or improbability of miracles is concerned. His conclusions are adverse to the position assumed by the author of “Supernatural Religion.” I will briefly state the most important of Mr. Mill’s positions.

First. He points out that a miracle involves nothing contradictory to any law of causation. He well remarks that to prove such a contradiction, it is not only necessary that the cause should exist without producing the effect, but that no contravening cause should be present. But the very idea of a miracle presupposes an adequate contravening cause, _i.e._ God. The possibility of a miracle therefore cannot be denied on the ground that it does not presuppose the presence of a force adequate to produce it. Mr. Mill states, “Of the adequacy of that cause, if present, there can be no doubt, and the only antecedent improbability that can be objected to a miracle, is the improbability that any such cause existed,” that is to say, the whole controversy resolves itself into the question between Pantheism and Atheism on the one hand, and Theism on the other.

Secondly. He observes: “All therefore that Hume has made out, and this he must be considered to have made out, is, that (at least in the imperfect state of our knowledge of natural agencies, which leaves it always possible that some of the physical antecedents may have been hidden from us) no evidence can prove a miracle to any one who did not previously believe in the existence of a being or beings with supernatural power, or who believes himself to have full proof that the character of the being whom he recognises is inconsistent with his having seen fit to interfere on the occasion in question. If we do not already believe in supernatural agencies, no miracle can prove to us their existence. The miracle itself, considered as an extraordinary fact, may be satisfactorily certified by our senses, or by testimony; but nothing can ever prove that it is a miracle: there is still another possible hypothesis, that of its being the result of some unknown cause; and this possibility cannot be so completely shut out, as to leave no alternative but that of admitting the existence of a being superior to nature. Those, however, who already believe in such a being have two hypotheses to choose from, a supernatural and an unknown natural agency; and they have to judge which of the two is the most probable in this particular case.”

It is impossible to deny that this is a correct statement of the question. Hume’s position is a generalized statement, that no evidence can establish the reality of a miracle, on the ground that our experience of the uniformity of nature’s laws is so firm and unalterable, that no amount of testimony can establish a fact in opposition to it; or as he elsewhere puts it, “unless the testimony be of such a kind, that its falsehood would be more miraculous than the fact which it endeavours to establish.” He affirms this to be equally true on the principles of Atheism, Pantheism, or Theism, for the only thing that he takes into account is the inadequacy of the testimony, and not the inadequacy of the cause. Mr. Mill therefore says correctly that all that this argument avails to prove is, that it is impossible to prove a miracle, except to persons who are already convinced that a being or beings exist who are possessed of supernatural powers, and that it is in conformity with their character to work one. If this is the only intelligible meaning of Hume’s position (and it is evident that it is), it reduces his argument against miracles to a very harmless one. The conception of a miracle as distinct from an unusual phenomenon implies purpose. Purpose is only conceivable of a being possessed of personality and will. To those therefore who either deny the existence of any such being higher than man, or who affirm that we have no evidence of his existence, it is impossible to prove a miracle _as a miracle_. The utmost that could be done would be to prove that an event had taken place in nature which in the present state of our knowledge could be assigned to no known cause. In such a case the Pantheist and the Atheist have always the alternative of believing that the event in question must be due to the operation of some unknown force in nature, but which in the gradual development of knowledge we may hereafter be able to detect. This is a position that no defender of revelation worthy of the name can be anxious to dispute. Let it further be observed that Mr. Mill does not deny, but affirms, that the occurrence of an extraordinary event analogous to a miracle viewed simply as a phenomenon, may be satisfactorily certified by our senses or by testimony. To affirm the contrary would be simply absurd, as involving the stereotyping of human thought, and making the wisdom of our ancestors the only standard of truth. There was a time when the earth was believed to be an extended plain. If at that time any one had asserted that by continually sailing westward he had at last arrived at the place from which he started, or, in other words, had circumnavigated the globe, this affirmation ought to have been rejected, not only as founded on testimony contrary to all previous experience, but as intrinsically impossible. Yet if Hume’s dictum has any value as an argument against the possibility of a miracle, it must affirm the impossibility of establishing such an occurrence by any amount of evidence whatever. Mr. Mill’s mind was far too logical not to perceive that such a position is altogether untenable.

Mr. Mill, however, affirms that there is one ground on which the argument might be tenable against a theist, not because the evidence is insufficient to prove the occurrence of an extraordinary fact, as a mere phenomenon, but because it could not prove it to be a miracle. It is not only necessary, says he, in order to render this proof valid, that one should believe in the existence of a supernatural being who is able to bring about the occurrence, but also that “the character of this Being is not inconsistent with his having seen fit to interfere on the occasion in question.” Thus a man may be a believer in the existence of God, and yet be persuaded that it was not consistent with his character to interfere with the course of natural phenomena at all, or in such a manner as the conception of a miracle pre‐supposes. To such a theist the utmost that evidence could prove would be, that the extraordinary event had been brought about by the action of an unknown force. Again, the same principle acts, and acts reasonably, on the minds of multitudes of intelligent Christians, who summarily reject a certain class of reported miracles without inquiring into their evidence, on the ground that the working of such miracles is inconsistent with their conceptions of the divine character; that is to say, they think it more probable that the stories should be untrue, than that God should work in the way in question. But to give this argument any validity against the miracles wrought in attestation of Christianity, it must be proved that it is inconsistent with the divine character to make a revelation, or to introduce a deviation from what is to us the ordinary mode of His working; or that the miracles recorded in the Gospels are repugnant to the character of God.

Mr. Mill’s general position is therefore incontrovertible, that those who believe in the existence of God “have two hypotheses to choose from, viz. a supernatural, or an unknown natural agency;” and that they must judge which of these two is the more probable; and that, in forming their judgment, a most important consideration must be the character of God, and the conformity of the supposed event to that character. This position every intelligent Christian will readily accept.

Mr. Mill adds: “But with the knowledge which we now possess of the general uniformity of the course of nature, religion, following in the wake of science, has been compelled to acknowledge the government of the universe, as being on the whole carried on by general laws, and not by special interpositions. To whosoever holds this belief, there is a general presumption against any supposition of divine agency, not operating through general laws; or, in other words, there is an antecedent improbability in every miracle, which in order to outweigh it, requires an extraordinary strength of antecedent probability derived from the special circumstances of the case.” These observations require consideration.

There is no doubt that the polytheistic religions postulated the existence of a vast number of superhuman beings by whose agency and caprice many natural occurrences were brought about. Such a belief indicates a very imperfect conception of “order” in nature. But these supposed interferences with it would by no means realize the notion of what we now designate a miracle, the very idea of which implies an order in nature to which the miracle forms an exception. If there is no order in nature, there can be no miracle.

The Hebrew monotheism involved conceptions directly opposite to this. It viewed the action of God as the foundation of all the forces in nature. Whilst above and outside nature, He was everywhere present in nature. Its forces were the expressions of the energy of His will. Its order (for the Hebrew recognised a high order in nature) was the result of His good pleasure, and due to His constant working. In the Old Testament the commonest events in nature are no less ascribed to God than those which we designate miraculous. A Hebrew never conceived of a miracle as a deviation from the divine order, but as a consistent carrying out of a divine purpose in the government of the world. A modern conception of theism differs from this in supposing that there are certain forces in material nature which, when once called into action, go on energizing without any direct intervention of God. But when this conception comes to be minutely analysed, if we believe in a God, it is impossible to conceive of force, at least in its ultimate form, except as a direct expression of the divine energy.

Science has so far modified religious thought on this subject, that while it still continues to hold that the various forces in nature are modes of the divine acting, it nevertheless believes that God does not deviate from his predetermined course for the purpose of meeting what we are pleased to call special contingencies. The divine action is, in fact, not altered to meet man’s convenience, and His government is carried on as far as it lies within our cognisance by the general forces of nature. God acts in nature in conformity with a definite law, and from that He will not deviate, whatever consequences man’s ignorance or disregard of his mode of action may bring upon him. Mr. Mill observes that to any person holding this belief, there is a general presumption against any supposition of divine agency, not operating through general laws. That is to say, we have had a constant experience of his acting through general laws; and no experience of his acting otherwise. But the idea of a revelation introduces a factor into the case, entirely different from anything of which we have had previous experience. It forms part of a great purpose existing in the divine mind, and is in its nature analogous to the first introduction of life, or the first creation of a free moral agent. Respecting the laws by which God regulates his creative acts, we are ignorant. Yet the theist firmly believes in creative acts of some kind, and that they are regulated by law. In this ignorance of God’s law of creation, it is impossible to affirm that it is antecedently improbable that in making a fresh manifestation of himself, he will operate only through those general laws, which are the ordinary manifestations of his will.

There is some want of clearness in Mr. Mill’s expression, that in order to outweigh the antecedent improbability of miracles, arising from those modes of the divine action which fall within the limits of our experience, an extraordinary strength of antecedent probability, derived from the special circumstances of the case, is required. If by this antecedent probability he means something such as has been above referred to, there can be no objection to his statement. He ought to have observed, however, that the antecedent improbability which may be supposed to belong to miracles, only attaches to them while contemplated as phenomena, and that such an improbability readily yields to positive evidence. This is virtually admitted in a subsequent sentence. “According as this circumstance, viz. the unknown cause, not having previously manifested itself in action, or the falsity of the testimony, appears more improbable; that is, conflicts with an approximate generalization of a higher order, we believe the testimony or disbelieve it with a stronger or weaker degree of conviction, according to the preponderance, at least until we have sifted the matter further.” “This,” says the author of “Supernatural Religion,” “is precisely Hume’s argument, weakened by the introduction of reservations which have no cogency.” We say, this is precisely what Hume’s argument is _not_, for, if it be valid, the whole question of miracles may be summarily dismissed without any inquiry into the evidence on which they rest.

Still, however, as the author affirms and endeavours to prove that Mr. Mill’s position leave Hume’s argument untouched, a few further observations will be necessary. Hume’s statement is, “A miracle is a violation of the laws of nature, and as a firm and unalterable experience has established these laws, the proof against a miracle from the nature of the fact, is as entire as any argument from experience which can possibly be imagined.”

I reply, that the conception of a miracle does not involve any necessary violation of the laws of nature. All that it implies is the presence of another force different from those which have come under our cognisance: and this may act so as to produce the miracle without violating one of nature’s laws. But, it is added, “uniform and unalterable experience has established these laws.” What has this experience really established? It is this, and this only, Given the presence of certain forces, _and no others_, certain results invariably follow. But experience cannot tell us anything, as to what would be the law of nature, if some other force were in action; nor is it able to say one word as to the non‐existence of any force which has not come under its observation. Abstractedly, it is true that the argument against a miracle is as entire as any argument from experience can be imagined, because experience really supplies us with no basis for argumentation in the case. Prior to the invention of railways and the discovery of the uses to which steam can be applied, the argument from experience was equally valid against the possibility of travelling in a carriage not propelled by animal force. In each case a new force enters into the conditions, of which experience is unable to take cognisance.

“Why is it more probable that all men must die?” asks this writer, “or that lead cannot of itself remain suspended in the air; or that fire consumes wood, and is extinguished by water, unless it be that these events are found agreeable to nature, and there is required a violation of its laws, or in other words, a miracle, to prevent them?” I answer that it is probable that all men must die, because we observe under the action of the known forces of nature that all men do die. But this says nothing as to what must take place if another force was present; or a combination of existing forces was discovered sufficiently potent to counteract the action of those which in the present state of things bring about the dissolution of man’s frame. There is no necessity, for the purpose of effecting this, that one of the existing forces should be suspended. The time was, when certain forms of disease invariably resulted in death. The advance of medical science has averted this result. Ought the discovery to have been rejected because it pretended to produce a fact contrary to prior experience? Are any of the laws of nature violated, or are its forces suspended in such a case? What has taken place? Man has discovered agencies which have neutralized the effect of other agencies. Our belief that all men must die rests on the assumption that no force can or will at any future time be brought into action which will counteract the forces now in operation by which that event is produced.

The same remark applies to the other three cases. To the second of them the author has himself supplied the answer: “Lead cannot of itself remain suspended in the air.” Doubtless, it cannot _of itself_. Who ever supposed that it could? But it can be suspended when a force adequate to counteract that of gravitation is present. So fire will always consume wood, or be extinguished by water, as long as no other forces but the usual ones are in operation. But man has already invented the means of producing combustion under water. No violation of nature’s laws is required in any of these cases. Nor is there any required in a miracle. The fact is, that there is an assumption in all arguments of this kind, which for obvious reasons is not openly avowed, but which alone imparts to them an apparent validity. “No such force can exist,” which translated into other language is identical with the proposition, “There is no God.” To keep this assumption in the background, when the very basis of the argument for miracles is the assumption that there is one, is a course which can lead to no good result.

But the author remarks further: “There must, therefore, be a uniform experience against every miraculous event, otherwise the event could not merit that appellation. And as a uniform experience amounts to a proof, there is hence a direct and full proof from the nature of the fact, against the existence of any miracle; nor can such a proof be destroyed, or the miracle rendered credible, by any opposite proof which is superior.”

Here again we encounter the same faults of reasoning, which amount to a virtual assumption of the point at issue. “There must be a uniform experience against any miraculous event, otherwise it would not merit the appellation—doubtless.” But what is the nature of this uniform experience? Exactly this, that the ordinary forces acting around us being present, and none other, the event has not, and therefore cannot take place. But this is not involved in the idea of a miracle. It assumes the presence of another force, viz. God. But what then? The objector will urge that we have had no experience of the existence of any such force. Is it to be urged, that no force can exist, except those of which we have had experience, or any combination of forces now in action, different from the present? The men of a former century were equally entitled to make the same assumption. If they had done so, it would follow, that if the discoverers of America had found our present railway system in full operation, and reported it to be so, the contemporaries of Columbus would have been justified in treating him as an impostor.

But the author further observes: “Mr. Mill qualifies his admission respecting the effect of the alleged counteracting cause, by the all important words ‘_if present_;’ for in order to be valid, the reality of the alleged counteracting cause must be established, which is impossible; therefore the objection falls to the ground. No one knows better than Mr. Mill, that the assertion of a personal deity working miracles, upon which a miracle is allowed for a moment to come into court, cannot be proved; and therefore, that it cannot stand in opposition to a complete induction which Hume takes as his standard.”

This passage strikes us as an extraordinary one to have been written by any one who possesses the logical powers of the author. We are dealing with a formal argument with a view of testing its validity, we have the fullest right to test it by a supposed case. That supposed case is the presence of an unknown cause, or an unknown combination of known causes, or the presence of a personal deity. If the argument breaks down under the application of these tests, it is worthless. Does the author mean to say, that it is necessary to prove every assumption to be a fact, before it can be used in argument? How about the assumptions in Euclid? I submit that the reasoning is by no means vitiated by the assumption, and consequently that by the application of the same principles of reasoning, Hume’s argument falls to pieces. In one sense the words “if present” are all important, yet it is not necessary to prove the fact in order to establish the validity of the reasoning, which is entirely independent of the truth of the assumption. Has the author never heard of contingent reasoning in which both antecedent and consequent may be false, but the proposition valid?

“No one knows,” again says the author, “better than Mr. Mill, that the allegation of a personal God working miracles, upon which a miracle is for a moment allowed to come into court, cannot be proved.” It seems then after all that we are reasoning with a person who rejects theism; although he has been dealing with the question on principles which assume its truth. In arguing a question of this kind it is necessary to be consistent, and take our stand either on the principles of theism, or on those of pantheism or atheism, and not to fall back on either as the exigencies of the case demand. Least of all should this be done by a writer who charges the defenders of Christianity with shifting their ground to suit the necessities of their argument.

But is the case correctly stated? No doubt that the conception of a personal God is essential to it. But that of a personal God actually working miracles forms no portion of it. If this were assumed, the entire reasoning would be a _petitio principii_. We are considering whether miracles are possible; or if, supposing one to be wrought, it can be established by evidence. All that we assume is, that God _can_ work miracles, not that He has wrought them. Whether we can prove by good evidence that He has wrought miracles, is quite independent of the present question.

“No one knows better than Mr. Mill, that the assertion of a personal deity working miracles cannot be proved.” It is perfectly true that Mr. Mill believed that the evidence adduced to prove the being of a personal God was insufficient, and that respecting the origin of all things, nothing can be known. But yet it is impossible to treat the existence of a personal God as a bare assumption. “It is impossible to be proved,” says the author. But to whom? To minds constituted like Mr. Mill’s. The evidence that a personal God exists has appeared irresistible to an overwhelming majority of mankind, including a great majority of minds gifted with equal, and even with greater powers than that of Mr. Mill. One might imagine from the mode in which this point is here represented, that the belief in the existence of a personal God was exploded among all men of intellect, and that the proofs adduced for it were unworthy of attention. Surely the question of miracles has a legitimate place in the court which tries the issue of their truth or falsehood.

One more point requires notice. Hume says, “Though the being, to whom the miracle is attributed be in this case Almighty, it does not on that account become a whit more probable, since it is impossible for us to know the attributes or actions of such a being, otherwise than from the experience which we have of his productions in the usual course of nature.”

This position involves an evident fallacy. It is also one which underlies one or two of the statements of Mr. Mill, whose philosophical theory of necessity was one almost certain to involve him in it. The statement is, that it is impossible to know either the attributes or the actions of such a being, except from our experience of his productions in the course of nature. What is the course of nature here intended? does it include mind as well as matter? If the former is included, and we attain our knowledge of God from that source—and every theist maintains that our chief knowledge of God is derived from it—then the experience we have of man leads us to infer the presence of certain moral attributes in God; and there is nothing in that experience which renders the performance of a miracle inconceivable or impossible—but as far as that experience is concerned, it is rendered antecedently probable. What is included, I again ask, in nature? Are _we_, the percipient beings ourselves? Whether we are regarded as included or excluded from nature, it is evident that a considerable portion of our knowledge of the divine character is derived from the contemplation of our own being. God is more manifested in our rationality, “personality,” freedom, and conscience, than in the material forces and laws of nature. To perform a miracle therefore is consistent with what we know of His character.

These observations will render it unnecessary for me to examine in detail the writer’s observations on Paley’s arguments against Hume. Even if his arguments are not perfectly conclusive, their failure does not establish the truth of Hume’s positions, or invalidate the refutation of them by others. As the object of this author is to re‐establish the validity of Hume’s argument, he ought not to have confined himself to Paley, whose mind was little adapted to the investigation of purely logical or metaphysical questions, but to have noticed the argument of the numerous subsequent writers who have more fully handled the subject.