But this was not all. He endeavours to show, that the world is absolutely perfect, without inferring its perfection from the assumed infinite perfection of its Author. At first view, this does not appear to be so; for the sin and misery which overflow this lower part of the world seem to detract from the perfection and beauty of the whole. Not so, says Leibnitz: “there are some disorders in the parts, which marvellously heighten the beauty of the whole; as certain discords, skilfully employed, render the harmony more exquisite.”[222] Considered as an argument, this is likewise quite unsatisfactory. It is, in fact, merely the light of the imagination, playing over the bosom of the cloud; not the concentrated blaze of the intelligence, [pg 347] dispelling its gloom. And besides, this analogy proceeds on a false principle; inasmuch as it supposes that God has himself introduced sin into the world, with a view to its happy effects. We could sooner believe, indeed, that the principle of evil had introduced harmony into the world in order to heighten the frightful effects of its discord, than that the principle of all good had produced the frightful discord of the world, in order to enhance the effects of its harmony. But we shall let all such fine sayings pass. Perhaps they were intended as the ornaments of faith, rather than as the radiant armour and the invincible weapons of reason.

Though Leibnitz frequently insists, that “the permission of evil tends to the good of the universe,”[223] he does not always seem to mean that evil would be better than holiness in its stead; but that the permission of sin is not so great an inconvenience as would be its universal prevention. “We ought to say,” says he, “that God permits sin, because otherwise he would himself do a worse action (une action pire) than all the sin of his creatures.”[224] But what is this worse, this more unreasonable action of which God would be guilty, if he should prevent all sin? One bad feature thereof would be, according to Leibnitz, that it would interfere with the freedom of the will. In his “Abrégé de la Controverse,” he says: “We have added, after many good authors, that it is in conformity with the general order and good, for God to leave to certain creatures an occasion for the exercise of their liberty.” This argument comes with a bad grace from one who has already denied the liberty of the will; and, indeed, from the very form of his expression, Leibnitz seems to have adopted it from authority, rather than from a perception of any support it derives from his own principles. He asserts the freedom of the will, it is true, but he does this, as we have seen, only in opposition to the “absolute necessity” of Hobbes and Spinoza; according to whom nothing in the universe could possibly have been otherwise than it is. In his “Reflexions sur le Livre de Hobbes,” he says, that although the will is determined in all cases by the divine omnipotence, yet is it free from an absolute or mathematical necessity, “because the contrary volition might happen without implying a contradiction.” True, the contrary volition might happen [pg 348] without implying a contradiction; for God himself might cause it to exist. And if, by his almighty and irresistible power, he should cause it to exist, the will would still be free in Leibnitz's sense of the word; since its contrary might have happened. Hence, according to this definition of liberty, if God should, in all cases, determine the will to good, it would nevertheless be free; since the contrary determination might have been produced by his power. In other words, if such be the liberty of the will, no operation of the Almighty could possibly interfere therewith; as no volition produced by him would have rendered it impossible for him to have caused the opposite volition, if he had so chosen and exerted his omnipotence for that purpose. This defence of the divine procedure, then, has no foundation in the scheme of Leibnitz; and the only thing he can say in its favour is, that after the authority “of many good authors,” we have added it to our own views.

Archbishop King, too, as is well known, assumes the ground that God permits sin, on account of the greater inconvenience that would result to the world from an interference with the freedom of the will. But so extravagant are his views respecting this freedom, that the position in question is one of the weakest parts of his system. The mind chooses objects, says he, not because they please it; but they are agreeable and pleasant to the mind, because it chooses them. Surely, such a liberty as this, consisting in a mere arbitrary or capricious movement of the soul, that owns not the guidance of reason, or wisdom, or anything apparently good, cannot possess so great a value that the moral good of the universe should be permitted to suffer, rather than that it should be interfered with or restrained.

But these are merely argumenta ad hominem. There are “many good authors” who, although they maintain neither of the above views of liberty, insist that it is better for God to permit sin, than to interfere with the freedom of his creatures. But is it clear, that greater inconveniences would have arisen from such an interference, than from the frightful reign of all the sin and misery that have afflicted the world? If God can so easily prevent all sin, and secure all holiness, by restraining the liberty of his creatures, is it clear, that in preferring their unrestrained freedom to the highest moral good of the universe, he makes a choice worthy of his infinite wisdom? In [pg 349] other words, is it not more desirable that moral evil should everywhere disappear, and the beauty of holiness everywhere shine forth, than that the creature should be left to abuse his liberty by the introduction of sin and death into the world? Besides, it is admitted by all the authors in question, that God sometimes interposes the arm of his omnipotence, in order to the production of holiness. Now, in such an exertion of his power, he either interferes with the freedom of the creature, or he does not. If he does not interfere with that freedom, why may he not produce holiness in other cases also, without any such interference? And if, in some cases, he does interfere therewith, in order to secure the holiness of his creatures, why should he not, in all cases, prefer their highest moral good to so fatal an abuse of their prerogatives? Is his proceeding therein merely arbitrary and capricious, or is it governed by the best of reasons? Undoubtedly by the best of reasons, say all the authors in question: but then, when we come to this point of the inquiry, they always tell us, that those reasons are profoundly concealed in the unsearchable depths of the divine wisdom; that is to say, they believe them to be the best, not because they have seen and considered them, but because they are the reasons of an infinitely perfect mind. Now, all this is very well; but it is not to the purpose. It is to retire from the arena of logic, and fall back on the very point in dispute for support. It is not to argue; it is simply to drop the weapons of our warfare, and oppose the shield of faith to the shafts of the adversary.

It is also contended by Leibnitz and King, as well as many other good authors, that there is an established order, or system of laws, in the government of the world; into which so great a confusion would be introduced by the interposition of divine power to prevent all sin, that some had better be permitted. This, which Leibnitz so positively asserts, is thrown out as a conjecture by Bishop Butler.[225] But in the present controversy, it is not to the point. For here the question is concerning the order and government of the moral world itself. And this being the question, it is not admissible for one of the parties to say, that the proposed plan for the government of the world is not the best, because it would interfere with and disturb the [pg 350] arrangements of that which is established. This is clearly to beg the question. It is to assume that the established method is the best, and therefore should not have been superseded by another; but this is the very point in dispute.

The truth is, that the theist has assailed the sceptic in his strong and impregnable point, and left the vulnerable part of his system untouched. This may be easily seen. The objection of the sceptic is thus stated by Leibnitz: Whoever can prevent the sin of another, and does not, but rather contributes to it by his concourse and by the occasions he gives rise to, though he possesses a perfect knowledge, is an accomplice. God can prevent the sin of his intelligent creatures: but he does it not, though his knowledge be perfect, and contributes to it by his concourse and the occasions to which he gives rise: therefore he is an accomplice. Now Leibnitz admits the minor, and denies the major, premiss of this argument. He should have done the contrary. For, admitting that God might easily prevent sin, and cause holiness to reign universally, what had he left to oppose to the attacks of the sceptic but the shield of faith? He might say, indeed, as he often does, that God voluntarily permits sin, because it is a part and parcel of the best possible universe. But how easy for the sceptic to demand, What good purpose does it answer? Can it add to the holiness or happiness of the universe? Cannot these high ends, these glorious purposes of the Divine Being, be as well attained by the universal rectitude and purity of his creatures, as by any other means? Cannot the Supreme Ruler of the world, in the resources of his infinite mind, bring as much good out of holiness as can be brought out of sin? And if so, why permit sin in order to the good of the creation? Are not the perfect holiness and happiness of each and every part of the moral world better for each and every part thereof than are their contraries? And if so, are they not better for the whole? By this reply, the theist is, in our opinion, disarmed, and the sceptic victorious. Hence we say, that the former should have conceded the major, and denied the minor, premiss of the above argument; that is, he should have admitted, that whoever can prevent the sin of another, but, instead of so doing, contributes to it by his concourse, is an accomplice: and he should have denied that God, being able to produce holiness in the place of sin, both [pg 351] permits and contributes to the reign of the latter in his dominions. The theist should have denied this, we say, if he would have raised the ever-blessed God above all contact with sin, and placed his cause upon high and impregnable ground, far above the attacks of the sceptic. But as it is, he has placed that cause upon false grounds, and thereby exposed it to the successful shafts of the adversary.

Another reason assigned by Leibnitz[226] and King[227] for the permission of moral evil is, that if God should interpose to prevent it, this would be to work a constant and universal miracle. But if such a thing were possible, why should he not work such a miracle? By these authors themselves it is conceded, that the Almighty often works a miracle for the production of moral good; and, this being the case, why should he not exhibit this miracle on the most grand and magnificent scale of which it is possible to conceive? In other words, why should he not render it worthy of his infinite wisdom, and power, and goodness? Is it not by a like miracle, by a like universal interposition of his power, that the majestic fabric of the material globe is upheld, and the sublime movement of all its countless orbs continually carried on? And if so, are not the order and harmony of the moral universe as worthy such an exercise of his omnipotence as are the regularity and beauty of the material? We defend the Divine Author and Preserver of all things on no such grounds. We say that a universal holiness is not produced by the omnipresent energy of his power, not because this would be to work a miracle, but because it would be to work a contradiction.

But we are becoming weary of such replies. The very question is, Why is there not a universal interposition of the divine power? and the reply, Because this would be a universal interposition of the divine power! What is all this but a grand attempt to solve the awful mystery of the world, which ends in the assurance that God does not universally interpose to prevent sin, because he does not universally interpose to prevent it? Or, in fewer words, that he does not, because he does not?

Since sin exists, says the sceptic, it follows that God is either unable or unwilling to prevent it. “Able, but unwilling,” replies [pg 352] the theist. Such is the answer which has come down to us from the earliest times; from a Lactantius to a Leibnitz, and from a Leibnitz to a M'Cosh. No wonder that in all this time they have not been able to find the reason why God is unwilling to prevent sin; since, in truth and reality, he is infinitely more than willing to do so.

But, saying that he is willing, shall we concede that he is unable? By no means: for such language implies that the power of God is limited, and he is omnipotent. We choose to impale ourselves upon neither horn of the dilemma. We are content to leave M. Bayle upon the one, and M. Voltaire upon the other, while we bestow our company elsewhere. In plain English, we neither reply unwilling nor unable.