CHAPTER VI.

CONSERVATION.--THE RELATION OF GOD TO THE WORLD.

"The relations which unite the creature and the Creator compose a problem obscure and delicate, the two extreme solutions of which are equally false and perilous: on the one hand, a God so passes into the world that He seems to be absorbed in it; on the other hand, a God so separated from the world, that the world has the appearance of going on without Him; on both sides there is equal excess, equal danger, equal error."--COUSIN.

In the preceding chapters we have endeavored to present the Christian doctrine concerning God, and concerning the world as the work of God. God is a _person_--the unconditioned Personality, all of whose determinations are from Himself. And creation is the voluntary act of God, who freely chooses to award existence to other beings distinct from Himself. If our scientific conceptions are in harmony with this doctrine, we are safe from the temptations of materialism on the one hand, and proof against the seductions of pantheism on the other. Henceforth we must regard the unconditioned Being as essentially distinct from the material universe. Matter with its phenomena is limited in extent and duration, God is infinite and eternal. Extension is not an attribute of the Divine substance. Succession is not a mode of God's eternity. The Divine life infinitely transcends the dynamical life of the universe.

Still there is some connection, some relation between God and the world. Of this we have the fullest assurance, however incapable we may be of comprehending the mode. The material universe is the product of the Divine efficiency, and therefore the first and most fundamental relation of God to the world is that of _causality_. The universe exists solely through the will of God. It had a beginning, and the beginning of the world was the beginning of time. Prior to that beginning there was no succession, no limitation, no finite existence; only the eternal and infinite One. The creative efficiency was put forth, and matter, as the statical condition necessary to the manifestation of physical phenomena, began to be. The Spirit of God moved upon the formless abyss, and phenomenal change commenced its history. With motion and consequent succession there arose the relations of time. With the differentiation and collocation of matter there arose the relations of space. And the wealth and fullness of inorganic and organic nature sprang up under the directive, formative, and vitalizing energy of the Spirit of God.

But is there no further relation of God to the world, beyond that which is involved in the primary and solitary fact of creative causality? Did the connection of God with his works terminate in an event which belongs to the inapproachable past? Did the Creator, in the beginning, give self-being to the substance of the universe, and endow it with active forces, so that it can exist and act apart from and independent of God? Have the laws of nature a real efficiency, so that the further agency of God is dispensed with, and the universe can pursue a fixed and inevitable path of self-development without his control and oversight? Or is God still immanent in nature, upholding all substance, the power of all force, the life of all life, shaping all forms, and organizing all systems? In a word, has the Divine efficiency remained, since the first creative act, in sublime repose, or does "the Father work hitherto," sustaining, moving, vitalizing, and perfecting the universe--the _Conservator_, as well as the Creator, of all things? This is the living question of our times, whether viewed from the scientific or the theological stand-point. The mental posture we assume in relation to this question must determine our systems of philosophy and religion.

The language of Scripture on this point is direct and explicit, and unless our interpretation thereof needs to be modified in order to place it in harmony with the general spirit and tenor of Christian teaching, or with the unquestionable facts of nature, which are also a revelation of God, there can be no difficulty in determining the Christian doctrine of God's relation to the world. It teaches us, not only that all things were made by God, but that all things are _sustained_ by God. God is still the first and immediate cause of all existence. "He giveth to all life, and breath, and all things" (Acts xvii. 25). The created universe is in complete and ceaseless dependence on the Divine causality; it consists by the same will and the same word by which it was first originated. He who made all things, continues to "uphold all things by the word of his power" (Heb. i. 3). "He is before all things, and by Him all things consist" (Col. i. 17). The universe is not self-existent, nor self-evolved, neither has it any inherent power of self-perpetuation. Notwithstanding the individuality and self-life conceded to the creature, it has no independent existence apart from God, "for of Him, and through Him, and for Him are all things, to whom be glory forever." (Rom. xi. 36.)

The recognition of a real presence of God in nature, and of the immediate agency of God in the production of all natural phenomena, has been a characteristic of the religious consciousness in all ages. This consciousness of the presence of God embracing and sustaining all worldly being is, in fact, an essential content of all vital piety. "It is only a mechanical deism, a barren rationalistic theology, or a piety meagre in the last degree, which has interposed a chasm between God and his creatures." The religious spirit is remarkably developed in the Psalms of David, and here all the operations of nature are spoken of as the operations of Deity. The thunder is "the voice of God." The lightnings are "his arrows." The earthquakes and volcanoes are produced directly by Him. "He looketh on the earth, and it trembleth; He toucheth the hills, and they smoke." "He giveth snow like wool, He scattereth the hoar-frost like ashes, He casteth forth his ice like morsels; who can stand before his cold? He causeth his winds to blow, and the waters flow." "He covereth the heavens with clouds, He prepareth rain for the earth." "He watereth the hills from his chambers, the earth is satisfied with the fruit of his work." "He causeth grass to grow for the cattle, and herb for the service of man." "He giveth to the beast his food, and to the young ravens which cry." "All creatures wait upon Him, and He giveth them their meat in due season. He openeth his hand, they are filled with good. He hideth his face, and they are troubled. He taketh away their breath, they die and return to the dust. _He sendeth forth his Spirit, and they are created_; and He reneweth the face of the earth." To the eye of the inspired writer, the agency of God is concerned in every process and every product of nature. "There are diversities of operations, but _it is the same God who worketh all in all_." His will and his power are the only real forces in nature.

The interpretation which the Church has given of this teaching of the Sacred Scriptures has been remarkably uniform through the ages. She has always taught that the continuance of the world, no less than its origination, has its ground in the Divine causality; and every theory of the relation of God to the world which has sacrificed the doctrine of the all-embracing, all-sustaining presence of God in the universe, as an immediate and real efficiency, has always been rejected as Pelagian, Rationalistic, or Deistic. The conception of the Divine conservation of the world as the simple, uniform, and universal agency of God sustaining all created substances and powers in every moment of their existence and activity, is the catholic doctrine of Christendom. In attempting the difficult, perhaps impossible task of conceiving the _mode_ of this Divine conservation, different theories have been developed. But whatever the conception formed, whether that of the Divine _co-operation_ (_concursus Dei generalis_), as taught by St. Augustine and the Schoolmen; or that of a Divine intermediate _impulse_ (_impulsus non cogens_), as taught by Luther; or that of the Divine _sustentation_ (_sustentatio Dei_), as held by the Arminians; or even that of the _superintendence_ and _control_ of the Deity, as adopted by some modern religious scientists,[219] they all repose on the ultimate truth that whatever is created can have no necessary or independent existence; the same power which called it into being must continue to uphold it in being; and were God to withdraw his conserving efficiency the creature would be immediately annihilated.[220]

St. Augustine, "the father of systematic theology," conceived the Divine conservation of the world as a _continual creation_ (_creatio continua_). He taught that the life and activity of the creatures, collectively and individually, are ceaselessly and absolutely dependent on and conditioned by the almighty and omnipresent agency of God. "Were He to withdraw from the world his creative power, it would straightway lapse into nothingness."[221] Thomas Aquinas, "the Angelical Doctor," who is regarded as having brought Scholastic theology to its highest development, held the same views on this subject as Augustine. He taught that "preservation is an ever-renewed creation."[222] All creaturely causes derive their efficiency directly and continually from the First Cause.[223]

Theological writers of more recent times have assented to these views with notable uniformity. Dr. Samuel Clarke, the intimate friend of Newton, whose "Lectures on the Being and Attributes of God," and on the "Evidences of Natural and Revealed Religion," secured for him a European renown as a Christian philosopher, states the doctrine of the immediate agency of the Deity with remarkable explicitness. "All things that are done in the world are done either immediately by God Himself, or by created intelligent beings. Matter being evidently not capable of any laws or powers whatsoever, any more than it is capable of intelligence, except only this one negative power, that every part of it will of itself always and necessarily continue in that state, whether of rest or motion, wherein it at present is. So that all those things which we commonly say are the effects of the natural powers of matter and laws of motion, of gravitation, attraction, or the like, are indeed (if we will speak strictly and properly) _the effect of God's acting upon matter continually and every moment_, either immediately by Himself, or mediately by some created intelligent beings.... Consequently there is no such thing as what we commonly call the _course of nature_, or the _power of nature_. The course of nature, truly and properly speaking, is nothing else but the will of God, producing certain effects in a continued, regular, constant, and uniform manner."[224]

Dr. Clarke may properly be regarded as the representative of the metaphysico-theological thought of the seventeenth century. No apology is needed at this hour for presenting John Wesley as the best representative of the evangelical movement of the eighteenth century which adhered firmly to the _ipsissima verba_ of the sacred writers. He expresses the evangelical conception with admirable clearness and force: "God is also the supporter of all the things which He has made. He beareth, upholdeth, sustaineth all created things by the word of his power; by the same powerful word which brought them out of nothing. As this was absolutely necessary for the beginning of their existence, it is equally so for the continuance of it; were his almighty influence withdrawn, they could not subsist a moment longer.... He preserves them in their several relations, connections, and dependencies, so as to compose one system of beings, to form one entire universe, according to the counsel of his will.... He is the true author of all the motion in the universe. All matter of whatever kind is absolutely and totally _inert_. It does not, can not in any case move itself.... Neither the sun, moon, nor stars move themselves. _They are moved every moment by the Almighty hand that made them._"[225] These views are earnestly maintained by Nitzsch and Müller, Chalmers and Harris, Young and Whedon, Channing and Martineau.

The religious life of the present age, in all its purest and most vigorous manifestations, still clings with passionate ardor to the belief that God is every where present, and that the ceaseless, uniform, and direct agency of God is still upholding, moving, vivifying, and controlling all things. The harp of David is restrung and swept with a firmer hand. It rings with nobler conceptions, and swells into diviner harmonies. God is recognized as "_above_ all, _through_ all, and _in_ all." "In Him we live and move, and have our being." The Christian still believes, with a fuller and richer assurance, that God's presence--

"Warms in the sun, refreshes in the breeze. Glows in the stars, and blossoms in the trees."

He still hears the voice of God in the thunder at midnight, and in the rustling of the forest leaves at noonday. He sees the beauty of God in "the silent faces of the clouds," and in the virgin blush of the solitary flower. He sees the life of God in the activities of organic nature, and marks his power and presence in the falling rain and noiseless dew, the flowing river and the restless ocean. The seasons, as they come round to him in their grateful vicissitudes, bring to him fresh tokens of the goodness of God, and inspire him with perennial joy.

"These as they change, Almighty Father, these Are but the varied God. The rolling year Is full of Thee.... But wandering oft, with brute, unconscious gaze, Man marks not Thee, marks not the mighty hand That, ever busy, wheels the silent spheres; Works in the secret deep; shoots, steaming, thence The fair profusion that o'erspreads the spring; Flings from the sun direct the flaming day; Feeds every creature, hurls the tempest forth; And, as on earth this grateful change revolves, With transport touches all the springs of life."[226]

A discussion of the Christian doctrine of the relation of God to the world can scarcely be regarded as adequate and complete which keeps not constantly in view the theories of certain "advanced thinkers" that conflict with the views here presented. We do not now refer to the extreme opinions of the Atheists, who deny the existence of God, proclaim the eternity of matter, and regard force as an inherent and essential attribute of matter, by which all the phenomena of nature and humanity are necessarily evolved; nor of the Pantheists, on the other hand, who deny the personality of God, and represent the Deity as an eternal _natura naturans_, which by a spontaneous and unconscious development is forever emerging as the _natura naturata_. For these thinkers there can be no conceivable Providence. "Science has shown us that we are under the dominion of general laws, and that there is no special Providence. Nature acts with fearful uniformity; stern as fate, absolute as a tyrant, merciless as death; too vast to praise; too inexplicable to worship; too inexorable to propitiate; it has no ear for prayer, no heart for sympathy, no arm to save."[227]

At present we are to deal with the theories of a class of scientists who believe in the existence of God--of a personal God, and who profess the greatest reverence for the Sacred Scriptures, but whose God is clearly not the God the Bible reveals. This general class of thinkers may be subdivided into subordinate schools, as they verge toward one or the other of the extremes above indicated.

1. One school is represented by such writers as Prof. Tyndall, Dr. H. Bence Jones, and Dr. Bastian. Their fundamental principle is "the absolute inseparability of matter and force;" consequently they do not recognize the Divine Will as the sole and immediate cause of the motion and life of the universe. Molecular attractions and repulsions are the primal forces communicated to matter at the Creation, and from "the self-activity of these primary forces" result all the forms of energy in nature, whether organic or inorganic. "Our idea of the grandeur, the unity, and the power of the first cause," writes Dr. H. Bence Jones, "will surely not be lessened if we can show that one law of the union of matter and force and of the conservation of energy obtains throughout the organic as well as the inorganic creation."[228] Here we have a close approximation, if not intentionally, yet logically, to the Atheistic extreme. The transition seems easy, if not inevitable, to the recognition of force as an inherent and necessary attribute of matter which _may_ be eternal. Then what need of a God, or what place for one, if the forces and laws of matter are adequate to the explanation of all phenomena? As Martineau aptly suggests, "These properties and powers once installed in the cosmic executive are too apt, like mayors of the palace, to set up for themselves," and eject the real Lord and God.

2. Another school is represented by such men as Professors Owen, Huxley, and Baden Powell, who deny the ultimate distinction between matter and force, and regard both as phenomenal manifestations of some "unknown substratum"--a supramaterial PHYSIS (φύσις) which is identical with the Divine substance, the _natura naturans_ of Spinoza. To these minds the universe discloses nothing but immutable law, absolute continuity, and necessary development. "The grand principle of the _self-evolving powers of nature_"[229] and "the grand inductive conclusion of universal and _eternal_ order,"[230] are the bases of all rational theology. Here we encounter a phase of thought which verges toward the extreme of Pantheism. The Deity himself is conditioned in his action by the eternal and immutable laws of nature, and can not be conceived as a living Will exercising control over and subordinating these laws to higher moral ideas and ends. This doctrine, Prof. Powell admits, "summarily overrides the Mosaic creation, renders miracles irrational, excludes a special providence, and, we may add, dismisses prayer as a useless absurdity."

3. A third and intermediate school assumes the existence of a plastic nature (_vis formativa_) intermediate between the Creator and his work, by which the phenomena of nature are produced. This hypothesis was propounded by Cudworth, and has lately been reproduced by Dr. Laycock and Mr. Murphy under the name of "unconscious organizing intelligence," to explain those facts of organic nature which come under the relation of means and ends, or structure and function. This hypothesis must deflect toward one or other of the extremes indicated, when it attempts to decide in what subject this "unconscious intelligence" inheres. If it be said that it inheres in matter, the tendency must be toward Atheism: that it inheres in spirit, then the tendency is toward Pantheism.

Common to all these hypotheses is the denial of the direct, immediate, and voluntary agency of God in nature as _the only real and efficient force_. They are all attempts to account for the conservation of the world by "the conservation and transformation of energy," that is, by secondary causes, which in reality are only conditions and not real causes. They interpose a chasm between God and the world. The universe is a self-supporting, self-evolving machine, and God is an isolated, incommunicable abstraction.

It is to be deplored that certain Christian writers have deemed it necessary, on what they consider moral grounds, to give countenance to theories which in one form or another ascribe a real efficiency to natural laws, and dispense with the immediate and ceaseless agency of God in the conservation of the world. They imagine that some such hypothesis is needed to vindicate the Divine honor and righteousness. In their imagination, it derogates from the Divine majesty to be ceaselessly concerned and busied with the minute and insignificant operations of nature, or even cognizant of them. His eternal serenity would be disturbed, and his unsullied purity compromised by any connection therewith, and He would become responsible for the disorders and abnormities, the evils and sufferings, which appear in the world. He must, therefore, be released from a constant and direct connection with the universe. He must leave nature to the necessary predestinated course of self-evolution, or, if He interpose at all, it must be in some exceptional, extraordinary, and supernatural way; so that, if there be a providential administration, every act and incident thereof must be a _miracle_.

We respect the motives, but we can not approve the procedure or commend the logic of these theologians. The moral difficulties they would by these hypotheses evade still remain in all their force. "Any hypothesis which essays to relieve these difficulties from pressing against Providence only transfers and leaves them to press with equal force against an original creation."[231] The Supreme Intelligence which originally endowed matter with its properties, and ordained the laws of force, must have foreseen all possible combinations, interactions, and consequences, and, if it be proper to speak of responsibilities in this connection, must be as responsible for these consequences as though they were the direct effect of immediate volition. An agent is accountable not only for his acts, but for all the foreseen consequences of his acts. The solution of these difficulties must be sought in another field.

Meantime it may be observed that these theologians affect a concern for the Divine honor which even revelation itself does not confess. It teaches that all the operations of nature are the operations of God, and no apologies are offered for consequences which, to short-sighted men, may appear to conflict with righteousness or love. Does the earthquake tear the mountain asunder, and spread devastation and death throughout the surrounding country? it is the Lord who roareth from Zion, and uttereth his voice from Jerusalem; He causeth the habitation of the shepherds to mourn, and the top of Carmel to wither.[232] The people bow their heads with reverence, and in their chastening sorrows see the hand of God. But these philosophic theologians must correct the language of Scripture, and tone it down in harmony with the capricious demands of modern scientists. The language of the ancient Prophet of God is simply the expression of a childlike and subjective conception of nature which modern science has emptied of all its significance. The earthquake was the product of "secondary causes"--of inherent nature-forces which now exist and act independent of the agency and control of God. To maintain the consistency of their hypothesis, they will even affirm that the catastrophe was unforeseen, and did not come within the purview of the creative plan. The exuberance of the Oriental imagination has thrown a haze of unreality over all the descriptions of natural phenomena, and therefore the language of the inspired Psalmist must be amended. When he tells us that God "covereth the heavens with clouds, and prepareth rain for the earth," we must paraphrase after the following fashion: "In the beginning God gave to water those properties, and determined those cosmical conditions which, when coincident, result in the formation of clouds and the descent of rain!" This, we are told, is the interpretation which modern science demands. Conservation is simply "the indestructibility of matter and the persistence of force," and Providence is "the uniformity of natural law." We must no longer believe that God is a present, immanent, and diffusive Power and Life in nature. To find the connection between God and nature we must remount by a process of regressive thought to the first, and, indeed, the last act of creation--the primal origination of matter and motion. So that if now piety would stand face to face with its supreme object, it is compelled to fling itself back into the abyss of duration, before the mountains were brought forth, or ever the earth and the world were formed.

Practically, this conception gives us a universe without a God; for the world, once created, and stocked with the necessary forces and adjustments and laws, will henceforth govern itself. It will run its predestinated course in obedience to an original impulse, and realize a perpetual motion without further oversight or care or control. The world is a huge soulless machine, and theology is reduced to Mechanical Deism! But surely no one pretends that this theory satisfies the demands of Scripture language, and fills up the complement of its idea. Practically, it renders the Word of God of no effect.

This theory is equally inadequate to satisfy the cravings of the human heart. "The heart demands a present God--a God who is never far from any one of us; it demands the immediate presence and constant care of a heavenly Father; it demands, when it looks upon nature, to feel that God is there, not in his laws only, but in conscious and perpetual action; not in the sense of a Wisdom and Goodness, embodied in arrangements contrived and perfected long ago, as the mind of an artificer may be said to be present in the work of his hands, but in the sense of a Love co-present to every aspect of nature, and a Will inworking in every event that takes place."[233] "Reacting against the usurpation of secondary causation, wearied of its distance from the Fountain-head, it flings itself back with pathetic repentance into the arms of the Primary Infinitude."

The relation of God to the world, however, is a problem which can not be solved by an appeal to sentiment. The religious consciousness may be the counter-proof, but it can not be the starting-point of a philosophy which aims at the explanation of things--that is, of their origin and continuance--by principles and ideas of the reason. For what is meant by _understanding_, but translation into ideas, and comprehending under necessary principles? Any theory which essays such explanation of things must therefore commend itself to the logical understanding, and be capable of logical construction.

Now the various hypotheses which seek to dispense with the immediate agency of God, and to explain the conservation of the world by "secondary" or natural agencies, when critically examined do not satisfy the understanding. However convenient for the evasion of difficulties, however plausible for their simplicity and manageable clearness, on a closer inspection they are found to be inadequate.

1. _There is the hypothesis of natural law._ The world is governed by general laws which are fixed and immutable. These laws were impressed upon matter at the beginning, and in obedience to them the universe has gradually evolved itself in rigid continuity and necessary order. No room, therefore, is left for special direction or providential control, and if the term "providence" is at all permissible, it is only as a synonym for natural law.

It is affirmed by the advocates of this hypothesis that "the grand principle of the uniformity and constancy of natural causes is _a primary law of belief_ so strongly entertained by the truly inductive inquirer that he can not conceive the _possibility_ of its failure."[234] As science extends her domain and pushes her discoveries into new regions, cases that once seemed anomalous are found to be conformable to this general rule, and therefore we are justified in assuming the absolute uniformity and inviolability of natural law through all the realms of time and space. Thus we reach "the grand inductive conclusion of the universal and _eternal_ order of nature." But an _overruling_ providence must step beyond _ordinary rule_: it must control, interrupt, modify, or in some manner give a new direction to the action of nature, and thus become _super_natural--that is, miraculous. So that were we even to concede the phenomenal reality of the miracles recorded in the New Testament, and to accept them as "objects of faith, but not as the evidences of faith," still modern science would forbid us to believe that any supernatural interposition can _now_ take place. Not a single instance of counteraction or control of natural law can now be authenticated, and therefore we must regard special providence as incredible and impossible.

The first error, and indeed the fundamental error, of this hypothesis is the assumption that the absolute uniformity and permanence of nature is "_a primary law of belief_," and therefore the natural philosopher "must set out with clear ideas of the _possible_ and the _impossible_."

Now we grant that had we such _à priori_ conviction of the permanence and immutability of nature, then it would be impossible to prove that the order of nature had a beginning, or that there could be any interference with the agencies or laws of nature by a supernatural power. "No evidence adduced in favor of a creation or of Divine interposition could ever be so strong as to overcome the necessary belief in direct opposition to it."[235] But the truth is, we have no such intuitive conviction. Our belief has none of the characteristics of an _à priori_ intuition: it is neither self-evident nor universal nor necessary. John Stuart Mill has successfully shown that this belief is the result of experience, that it is entertained only by the cultivated and educated few, and that even among such it has been of slow growth. Therefore he properly concludes that "the uniformity in the succession of events ... must be received, _not as the law of the universe, but of that portion only which is within the range of our means of observation_, with a reasonable degree of extension to adjacent cases."[236]

Belief in the uniformity of nature is an induction from _experience_, and not a primary intuition. And by the word experience, in this connection, we must understand not the experience of one man only, or of one generation, but the accumulated experience of mankind in all ages as registered in books or transmitted by tradition. But how limited, at best, is human experience--how circumscribed both in time and space! Compared with the vastness and duration of the universe, it is narrowed down to a mere point. All experience, be it that of the individual or of mankind, is only finite. To infer a universal law from a limited number of instances is to violate to the uttermost the fundamental canon of logic that "no conclusion must contain more than was contained in the premises from which it is drawn."[237] Inductive science can only give us the contingent and the relative, it can never attain to the necessary and the absolute. By abstraction, comparison, and generalization it may furnish us with _general_ notions, but it can not give us _universal_ principles. "Experience can not conduct us to universal and necessary truths--not to universal, because she has not tried all cases; not to necessary, because necessity is not a matter to which experience can testify."[238] The intuitive reason, we doubt not, is furnished with necessary and universal principles which may illuminate the pathway of experience, and give meaning and law to the facts of sensation, so that man may become "the Interpreter of Nature;" but certainly the absolute uniformity of nature is not one of these ideas.

Notwithstanding the boasted mathematical precision of the inductive method, and the rigid exactness of its results, scientific men are not wholly exempt from the common infirmity of hasty generalization. They are perpetually liable to the temptation to draw immense conclusions from premises that are too narrow and inadequate. The history of science is a record of the correction of hasty generalizations by future discoveries, and leads to the final conviction that there are no laws of nature which can lay claim to absolute universality. Since the time of Newton, the law of gravitation has been regarded by many as strictly universal. But now we are told by Herschel that "our evidence of the existence of gravitation fails us beyond the region of the double stars, or leaves us at best only a _presumption_ amounting to moral conviction in its favor." Furthermore, in regard to the luminiferous ether, he tells us that "we are freed from the necessity of any mental reference to the actual weight or specific gravity of the material, which in this case is the more necessary, as, though we suppose the ethereal molecules to possess inertia, _we can not suppose them affected by the force of gravitation_." "Beyond all doubt, the widest and most interesting prospect of future discovery ... is that distinction between _gravitating_ and _levitating_ matter, that positive and unrefutable demonstration of the existence of a repulsive force ... enormously more powerful than the attractive force of gravity."[239]

Until recently the presence of free oxygen as the necessary condition of life has been regarded as a universal biological law. "But the latest researches of Pasteur have shown that, so far from oxygen being essential to the life of the simplest living beings, there are certain forms of infusoria which not only pass their lives without oxygen, but are killed by its presence."[240]

Other illustrations might be adduced, but these are sufficient for our purpose. The truth is, there is not a phenomenon known to man that can properly be said to be the result of the action of _one_ invariable and universal force, not even the falling of a stone to the earth; for some force must have previously been exerted to raise the stone from the earth, which force is represented by energy of position, or "potential energy."[241] And this potential energy is the exact numerical equivalent of the energy of motion which it acquires in falling--_i. e._, the mass multiplied by the square of the velocity. Every event, every change in nature, is due to "some _variable_ combinations of invariable forces."[242] Material causes are always complex. Every law of nature is liable to counteraction and modification by other laws, and the most fundamental fact of the universe is that material forces are adjusted, combined, and modified in endless modes in order to the fulfillment of purposes and ends. The phenomena of life present a vast series of such adjustments and modifications. The mechanical and chemical forces are controlled and subordinated by the vital force, so that life has been defined as "a _resistance_ to the physical forces of matter"[243]--a resistance which Liebig regards as in a certain degree invincible. Living matter is the seat of energy, and so long as it is living, can overcome the primary law of the _inertia_ of matter, and moves spontaneously.[244] Living matter overcomes the attraction of gravitation, and resists, suspends, and modifies the action of chemical affinity.[245] It is in direct opposition to chemical affinity that organized beings exist.

Thus the various forms of energy are mutually conditioned. The mechanical, chemical, and electrical energies are counteracted by the vital force. And all the forces and energies of nature are controlled and subordinated by a higher force which orders means to ends, and adapts structure to function, viz., an _Intelligent Will_. The conviction finally becomes irresistible that nature is a system of things designed to be subject to Mind, and that a law of design is the highest law of the universe.

It must now be obvious that we can reach no definite conclusion in regard to the question under discussion--the uniformity of nature--unless we have a clear and precise conception of the meaning of the term "nature." The word is employed, even by men of science, in a very loose and ambiguous sense. At one time it is used to denote the totality of sensible phenomena; at another, the conditions or causes of phenomena; again, the relations of phenomena; and often, all these collectively. We must endeavor to extricate ourselves from this confusion.

According to its derivation, nature (_natura_--_nascitur_) means that which is born or produced--_the becoming_; that which has a beginning and an end; that which has not the cause of its existence in itself, and the cause of which must be sought in something antecedent to and beyond itself--that is, nature is _the phenomenal_. This the word itself expresses in the strongest manner. That which begins to be, as the necessary consequence of antecedent conditions, is _natural_. The co-existence, resemblance, and succession of phenomena constitute the _order of nature_; and the uniformity of these relations among phenomena are the _laws of nature_. So much is clear from the stand-point of mere empirical science. Now if law is "the uniformity of relations among phenomena,"[246] then it is equally clear that the phrase "uniformity of natural law" is meaningless, for, by the definition, the uniformity itself is the law, and the expression is simply equivalent to "the uniformity of the uniformity," which is absurd. Furthermore, if "nature" is the phenomenal--the becoming--then the word can not be properly employed to denote the causes of that becoming, unless by causes we understand antecedent conditions, which, as we shall presently see, are not real causes. Nature, or the sum-total of phenomena, is an _effect_--an effect which demands a cause. There can be no phenomena without change, no change without motion, no motion without force, no force without Spirit, for Spirit-force is the only force of which we have any knowledge or consciousness. A rational Will, and not a blind necessity, must stand at the fountain-head of being, and uniformity in nature must be the result of _reason_ and _choice_.

But suppose we are permitted to employ the term "nature" to denote the essential properties of matter, and the various forms of energy,[247] potential and kinetic; and suppose we admit that matter is indestructible, and that the amount of energy in the world is unchanged, the sum of the actual and potential energies being a constant quantity; still we are not entitled from these premises to infer the absolute uniformity in the succession of events--that is, the uniformity of the phenomenal. We have already seen that no phenomenon known to man is the result of a single property of matter or a single form of energy. "All issues in nature are the effects produced upon matter by the resultant of component forces." The phenomena of nature are the result of adjustments, combinations, and distributions of matter and of force in endless variety and complexity. Hence we have in nature the variable, the contingent, the particular, as well as the invariable, the uniform, and the general. This is admitted by Comte: "That which engenders this _irregular variability_ of the effect is the great number of different agents determining at the same time the same phenomena; and from which it results, in the most complicated phenomena, _that there are no two cases precisely alike_. We have no occasion, in order to find such complexity, to go to the phenomena of living beings. It presents itself in bodies without life, for example, in studying meteorological phenomena.... _Their multiplicity renders the effects as irregularly variable as if every cause had not been subject to any precise condition._"[248]

Thus we are led by various lines of thought to the same conclusion. It is certain that we can only learn what the uniformities (the laws) of nature are by _experience_, and in order to determine whether all the successions of events have been and now are universally uniform, we must have a _universal_ experience. If there have been deviations from general laws under peculiar conditions--if one form of energy has been counteracted and modified by another form of energy, or even by an intelligent Will, so as to give a _particular_ result--experience (= observation and testimony) must be just as adequate to attest the reality of that particular deviation as it is to attest the prevalence of general laws.[249] We have no intuitive and necessary conviction of the uniformity of nature, and therefore we can not affirm in an _à priori_ manner what is _possible_ or _impossible_. Those scientists who adopt the maxim of Faraday, that in the investigation of new and peculiar phenomena "we must set out with clear ideas of the possible and the impossible," are doomed to move in a vicious circle. They can not be sure that a fact of experience is a real fact until they have ascertained the laws of nature in the case, and they can not ascertain what the laws of nature are until they have ascertained the facts. They must not profess to have learned any thing until they have ascertained that it is possible, and they can not decide that it is possible until they have learned every thing, because the single item of knowledge they are deficient in may be the very principle which warrants a belief in the possibility of the fact. The maxim is obviously absurd. In its theological bearings it is repudiated even by Professor Tyndall, the pupil and successor of Faraday at the Royal Institution. "You never hear the really philosophical defenders of the doctrine of uniformity speaking of _impossibilities_ in nature. They never say ... that it is impossible for the Builder of the universe to alter his work. Their business is not with the possible, but with the actual."[250]

The hypothesis under discussion is further vitiated by the assumption that laws are _causes_ adequate in themselves to the production of all phenomena. So that now Creation by Law (Nomogeny) is the watchword of this school of thinkers. The men who have defined law as "the uniformity of relations among phenomena"--as "an observed order of facts"--now speak of laws as having in themselves a real efficiency; as producing, regulating, and governing powers. Under this high-sounding phrase--"Creation by Law"--there is not only the artful concealment of a difficulty, but there is also the interpolation of a positive error. The _uniformities_ of natural phenomena are the _causes_ of phenomena, or, in other words, the order of nature is its own cause, which is not only erroneous but self-contradictory.

Here, again, we encounter the perplexity consequent on the use of ambiguous phraseology. The term "Law" is employed in an equivocal sense, as denoting, indifferently, property and relation, condition and cause, antecedent and consequence. In such an atmosphere of verbal haze it is impossible to see clearly or think correctly. We must feel our way toward a purer light, and find a less wavering stand-point.

The primary and generic conception of law is "_the authoritative expression of Will_." This is the most natural, the most obvious, and the most legitimate conception. The true notion of Will is the synthesis of Reason and Power. Power exerted in the forms of reason is self-consciousness. Reason manifested in the forms of power is self-determination. Self-consciousness and self-determination are the two elements of personality. More explicitly, we may therefore define law as "_the idea of the Reason enforced by Power_." The subjects of legislation are:

1. _The actions of Free Beings._ To ascertain the laws in this case is to answer the question, What _ought_ to be done?

2. _The processes of Thought._ To ascertain the laws in this case is to answer the questions, Why do we judge or affirm this or that? and, What are the grounds and criteria of certitude?

3. _The facts or events of Nature._ To ascertain the laws in this case is to answer the questions, _What_ are the facts in their observed order? _How_ or from what causes do they arise? _Why_ or for what end do they exist?

It is under the last division that we encounter the secondary and symbolical senses in which the term law has come to be used by scientific men, which have well-nigh supplanted the primary and only legitimate signification.

That which lies nearest to sense--the phenomena of nature--first engages the awakening intellect. If the attention is confined solely to the phenomena of nature, the simple question propounded is, _What_ is the observed order of the facts? At this stage science can be no more than a classification of phenomena according to their relations of co-existence, resemblance, and succession, and law must be defined as "_the uniformity of relations among phenomena_."[251] Here the term is taken _objectively_, and the facts are simply conceived as perceived by the senses.

But the human mind can never rest in the bare knowledge of phenomena. The reason intuitively recognizes the uniformities of nature as the suggestive signs of properties or powers which are not perceptible to sense, and the question arises, _How_--that is, from what adjustment of antecedent conditions and physical agencies--does the order of nature arise? And now the term law comes to indicate more than an observed order of facts; it denotes an order resulting from the coincidence of some permanent properties, qualities, or forces which are conceived as lying back of the phenomena, and pushing them into the objective field. Accordingly, laws are now defined as "_the necessary relations which spring from the [inner] nature of things_."[252] Here the phrase is taken _subjectively_, as the expression of a mental conception, and not of a sense perception. "It has relation to us as _understanding_, rather than to the materials of which the universe consists as obeying certain rules."[253]

Finally, the human mind approaches the question--_Why_ have these physical agencies been so collocated or adjusted? What relation does this adjustment bear to _purpose_, _intention_, or _end_? Law is now _the reason or end for which an orderly arrangement exists_. Here the phrase is taken ideally or _rationally_ as a revelation of the intuitive reason, in the light of which the phenomena of nature find their only satisfactory interpretation.

By this route we are led back to the primary and universal conception of law as "_the idea of the Reason enforced by Power_." All government, human or Divine, is the enforcement of ideas by authority, and "Natural Law" is the actualization of the Divine idea by the Divine efficiency. As Bunsen remarks, "Law is the supreme rule of the universe, and this law is Intellect, is _Reason_, whether viewed in the formation of a planetary system or the organization of a worm."

Laws and ideas are thus correlated. Viewed in respect to the reason as conceiving, originating, and projecting, we speak of the _idea_. Viewed in respect to the sphere of determinate movement and action in which ideas are realized and actualized, we speak of _law_. Hence Plato often calls ideas laws; and Lord Bacon, the British Plato, describes the laws of the material world as ideas: "_Quod in naturâ naturatâ lex, in naturâ naturante idea dicitur_."

It is obvious, then, that laws are not attributes of matter, but of intelligence. It is equally obvious that laws are not efficient causes, and can not execute themselves. They are the ideas and purposes of reason, and the rules or methods according to which the ideas are actualized. Law, therefore, presupposes a _Lawgiver_ and an _Executive_. Law without a lawgiver is the merest abstraction, and law without an agent to realize and execute it is, in fact, not a law, but an idea. To maintain that the universe is governed by laws, without ascending to the superior reason and source of these laws--to talk of laws, and yet not to recognize that every law implies a legislator, and an executor to put it in force--is to hypostatize laws, to make beings of them, and to substitute mythical and fabulous divinities in the place of the one living and true God, the source of all power and all law.

Few men of recent times can claim a larger acquaintance with the history and the philosophy of the Inductive Sciences than the late Professor Whewell, and he may be fairly regarded as expressing the doctrine of the best scientists. "A law supposes an _agent_ and a _power_: for it is a mode according to which the power acts. Without the presence of such an agent, of such a power, conscious of the relations on which the law depends, producing the effects which the law prescribes, the law can have no efficiency, no existence. Hence we infer that the intelligence by which the law is ordained, the power by which it is put in action, must be present in all places where the effects of the law occur; that thus the knowledge and agency of the Divine Being pervade every portion of the universe, producing all action and passion, all permanence and change. _The laws of nature are the laws which He in his wisdom prescribes to his own acts_; his universal presence is the necessary condition of any course of events, his universal agency the only origin of any efficient force."[254]

We grant that the term law may, by metonymy, be employed to designate "the uniformity of relations among phenomena," but then it must not be forgotten that here the effect is put for the cause, the consequence of law for the law itself. It may be that this is the only conception of law which is legitimate within the sphere of strictly physical science, and to limit the scientists solely to the knowledge of phenomena and their relations would simply be to take them at their word. The inquiry concerning Causes and First Principles must then, by common consent, be surrendered to pure metaphysics and theology. But if, after this truce, the scientist still persists in speaking of laws as efficient causes, and claiming for them "an eternal and necessary uniformity," thus virtually denying the liberty and personality of God, and the possibility of Creation and Providence, the Christian Theist must be permitted in the name of polemic fairness and logical consistency to protest.