It can scarcely be necessary to enlarge on the gratuitous assumptions on which this extension of the argument is made to rest;—such as that "every person is organized," that "all power is a mere attribute of matter," that "no man ever knew of thought distinct from an organization in which it was generated." The only fragment of truth that can be detected in these assumptions is the fact that we have, in our present state, no experience of intelligence apart from the organization with which it is here associated: but will this warrant the inference that intelligence cannot exist apart from organization, or that the one is the mere product of the other? It may be a good and valid inference from the marks of design in nature, that a designing cause must exist; for this inference, although suggested by analogy, is founded on induction, which requires a perfect resemblance only in those respects on which the inference depends. But to go beyond this, and to insist that the designing cause must be organized, because we have no experience of intelligence apart from organization, is to make our experience the measure of possible being, and to exclude, surely on very insufficient grounds, all notion of purely spiritual personality. In "extending the analogy beyond the Paley point," Mr. Holyoake is arguing from the particular case of man to another case, which resembles it in some respects, but may differ from it in others; and similar as they are in the one point of living, designing intelligence, they may, for aught he knows, differ in many other respects. And this we hold to be a sufficient answer to his argument, especially when it is combined with the consideration that the assumptions on which that argument is based are purely gratuitous, namely, that "every person is organized," and that there is no "thought distinct from an organization in which it is generated." By these assumptions, his theory connects itself with the grossest Materialism; and that subject has been sufficiently discussed in a separate chapter.
But in truth we regard the whole discussion on organization as a huge and unnecessary excrescence on his argument, for he would have come to his point quite as effectually, and much more directly, had he said nothing at all about an organized being, and insisted merely on one, whether material or spiritual, possessing powers of intelligence, contrivance, and design; for it is evidently on the existence of such a being, and not on the arrangements or adaptations of his organic parts, that his main argument depends, namely, that such a being implies also a contriver, and that again another, and so on in an endless series. Whatever force belongs to his argument lies here: it consists, not in the evidence of design arising from material organization, but in the necessity of a cause adequate to account for a being possessing intelligence, purpose, and will. The existence of an endless series of such beings is impossible, and the supposition of it is absurd; and Mr. Holyoake himself admits a self-existent, underived, and eternal Being,—a being exempt, therefore, from all the conditions of time and causality to which others are subject,—while he ascribes the origin of intelligent, self-conscious beings to Nature, which is "neither intelligent nor self-conscious," rather than to God, the father of spirits, Himself a Spirit, infinite, omniscient, and almighty. He ascribes the existence of intelligent, self-conscious, personal moral agents to a power called Nature, which he cannot venture to call "a person," nor even "an animal being," and of which he "cannot predicate with the Pantheist the unity of its intelligence and consciousness." His theory, in so far as it is intelligible, seems to have a stronger affinity with Pantheism than he appears to suppose. Were he to define the meaning of the word Nature,—a word so often used in a vague, indefinite sense,[287]—he would find that his idea bears a close resemblance to that of the German school,[288] who speak of the first being as the Indifference of the different,—a certain vague, undetermined, inexplicable entity, possessing no distinctive character or peculiar attributes, whose existence is necessary, but not as a living, self-conscious, and active being, while it is the cause of all life and intelligence and activity in the universe; in short, a mere abstraction of the human mind. To some such cause, if it can be called a cause, Mr. Holyoake ascribes all the phenomena of the universe; or he leaves them utterly unaccounted for, and takes refuge in an eternal series of derived and dependent beings, without attempting to assign any reason for their existence. He undertakes to account for nothing. He leaves the great problem unsolved, and discards it as insoluble. "Mr. Harrison demanded of me, where the first man came from? I said, I did not know; I was not in the secrets of Nature." "I cannot accept, says one, the theory of progressive development, it is so intricate and unsatisfying." "If something must be self-existent and eternal, says another, why may not matter and all its properties be that something?" "The Atheist holds that the universe is an endless series of causes and effects ad infinitum, and therefore the idea of a first cause is an absurdity and a contradiction."[289] In short, the eternity of the world is assumed, the origin of new races is left unexplained, and no account whatever is given of the order which everywhere exists in Nature. In the last resort, he takes refuge in the plea of ignorance. His only answer is, "I do not know, I am not in the secrets of Nature."
But how does his extension of Paley's argument justify the position which he now assumes? Or how can it invalidate the admissions which he had previously made? That extension of the argument, even were it supposed to be legitimate, amounts simply to this, that a designer must be an organized being, and, as such, must have had a cause. But what analogy suggests, or what law of reason requires, an infinite series of such causes? And what is there in this extension of the argument that should exclude the idea of a First Cause? It is thought, indeed, that by connecting intelligence with organization, we may succeed at least in excluding His infinity, His omnipresence, and other attributes which are ascribed to the Most High: but the main stress of the argument rests not on the fact of organization, but on the supposed necessity of an endless series of contrivers to account for the existence of any one intelligent being, whether organized or not is of little moment. Now, this is a mere assumption, an assumption entirely destitute of proof, an assumption which is not necessarily involved even in the proposed extension of the analogy: for all that the analogy, however extended, can possibly require is a cause adequate to the production of designing minds, and that cause may be a self-existent, underived, and eternal Being. Let the analogy be extended ever so far, it must reach a point at which we are compelled, by the fundamental law of causality, to rise to a self-existent Being, exempt from all conditions of time, space, and causality. Mr. Holyoake admits the very same truth in regard to Nature which we maintain in regard to God: "I am driven to the conclusion that Nature is eternal, because we are unable to conceive a state of things when nothing was.... And in the eternity of matter, we are assured of the self-existence of matter, and self-existence is the most majestic of all attributes, and includes all others;" it is "the power of being independent of the law of other beings." Now, what is there in the proposed extension of the analogy that should exclude the idea of a self-existent First Cause, or shut us up to the admission of an endless series of designing causes? And still further, what is there in the proposed extension of the analogy which should invalidate the argument from design, or induce Mr. Holyoake to give it up, and to withdraw the concessions which he had previously made in regard to it? These concessions must be supposed to have been honestly made in deference to the claims of truth, and they are not in the least affected by the extension of the analogy. It is still true, if it ever was, that order prevails in Nature; and this is admitted: "If by Atheism is meant the belief that all that we see in Nature is the result of chance, of a fortuitous concourse of atoms, nothing would be so absurd as Atheism. Nothing can be more evident than that law and order prevail in Nature, that every species of matter, organic or inorganic, is impressed with certain laws, according to which all its properties and movements are regulated.... In denying, therefore, the existence of a personal, intelligent Deity, we do not admit that there is any chance, contingency, or disorder in Nature: we do not deny, but absolutely affirm, the constant and universal operation of law and order. This we do, because it is a matter of fact of obvious and daily experience."[290] Again, it is still true, if it ever was, that design implies a designer; and this, says Mr. Holyoake, "I am disposed to allow; and that this designer must be a person, I am quite inclined to admit. Thus far goes Paley, and, therefore, thus far I go with him. His general position, that design proves a personal designer, is so natural, so easy, and so plausible, that it invites one to admit it.... Paley insists upon it as a legitimate inference from his premises, nor would it be easy to disturb his conclusion.... This is Paley's reasoning upon the subject, and it is too natural, too rigid, and too cogent to be escaped from." Now, what is there in the proposed extension of the analogy that can invalidate either of these admissions, or that should induce us to set aside both? Extend the analogy ever so far, it is still true that law and order prevail in Nature, that design implies a designer, and that a designer must be a person. And how does Mr. Holyoake save his consistency? Simply by stretching the analogy till it snaps asunder; he begins by extending, and ends in destroying it; he admits it at first, merely "to see where it will lead and what it will prove," and finding that it must imply an organized designer, and an endless series of such beings, "he gives it up," and denies the existence of design altogether. There is a hiatus, it would seem,—an impassable gulf,—between the admission that law and order prevail in Nature, and the conclusion that law and order are manifestations of design: "What I supposed to be design in the opening of my argument is no longer design. My reverend friend is wrong in supposing that I admit DESIGN, and yet refuse to admit the force of the design argument," On the supposition, then, that law and order are manifestations of design, the design argument might be valid and conclusive: but "no conceivable order" could prove the existence of God; why? Because no conceivable order could be a manifestation of design. But how is this proved by the extension of the analogy? Does it not amount to a denial of the analogy itself? And is it not an instructive fact that his abortive attempt to disprove the design argument, results, not in the denial of the inductive inference, but in the exclusion of the very analogy which he proposed to extend, not in shaking the validity of the proof, but in disputing the fact on which it is based? The extension of the analogy cannot prove either that law and order are not manifestations of design, or that there may be design without a personal designer; all that it could prove, even were it legitimate, would be the existence of an organized instead of a spiritual Being, which, on the supposition of its self-existence,—a supposition which is not excluded by the argument, since that majestic attribute, which may be fairly held to "include all others," is expressly admitted,—neither requires nor admits of an infinite series of contrivers.
4. Secularism denies the truth of a special Providence, and also the efficacy of Prayer, while it justly holds both to be indispensable for the purposes of practical religion.
The importance of these doctrines is strongly declared, and sometimes illustrated with much apparent feeling, by Mr. Holyoake himself: "There is more mixed up with the question than the mere fact as to whether some Being exists independently of Nature; for instance, if any man would debate whether there existed a Divine Being, whether a Providence, who was the Father of His creatures, whom we could propitiate by prayer in our danger, from whom we could obtain light in darkness, and help in distress,—if any man debated a proposition like this, I should say there was much of great practical utility about it.... If you tell me God exists, that he is a power, a principle, or spirit, or light, or life, or love, or intelligence, or what you will,—if He be not a Father to whom His children may appeal, if He be not a Providence whom we may propitiate, and from whom we can obtain special help in the hour of danger,—I say, practically, it does not matter to us whether He exists or not."[291] "The great practical question is, whether there exists a Deity to whom we can appeal, who is the Father of his children, who is to be propitiated by prayer, and who will render us help in the hour of danger and distress."
With the spirit of these remarks every believer will cordially sympathize. He knows that there can be no practical religion without faith in Providence and confidence in prayer; for "he that cometh to God must believe that He is, and that He is the rewarder of them that diligently seek Him." Mr. Holyoake does not err in supposing that this is the general belief of Christians, or that it is explicitly sanctioned in Scripture. He may, and we think he does err in his interpretation of the Bible doctrine, and the inferences which he deduces from it; but assuredly Christianity would be robbed of its most attractive and endearing attributes, were it represented as silent on the paternal character of God and His providential care. He is right in saying that "the Providence man needs, the Providence the old theologies gave him, was a personal Providence, an available help.... I care only to add, that there is hardly any feature in the Christian system which is so seductive as this doctrine of a special Providence.... Do you not know that in all your appeals your success depends upon your telling all orders of people that there is One in heaven who cares for them, that every prayer will be answered, that every hair of their head is numbered, that not a sparrow falls to the ground without their heavenly Father's knowledge, and are not they worth more than many sparrows?"[292] He sees the necessity, and seems to feel the attractiveness, of the doctrine; yet he denies its truth: why? because it is contradicted, as he conceives, by experience. He adduces his own personal experience, and then appeals to the experience of his fellow-men: "I once prayed in all the fervency of this same religion. I believed once all these things. I put up prayers to Heaven which I cannot conceive how humanity could have refused to respond to,—prayers such as if put up to me I must have responded to. I saw those near and dear to me perishing around me; and I learned the secret I care no longer to conceal, that man's dependence is upon his courage and his industry, and dependence upon Heaven there seems to be none."[293] Such was his private experience; and facts of public notoriety are appealed to in confirmation: "It has long seemed to me the most serious libel on the character of the Deity to assume for one moment that he interferes in human exigencies. A mountain of desolating facts rises up to shame into silence the hazardous supposition? Was not the whole land a short time ago convulsed with horror at the fate of the Amazon? There was not a wretch in the whole country whose slumbering humanity would not have been aroused in the presence of that dismal calamity." ... "How is it that liberty is in chains all over Europe, if God be still interposing in human affairs? If the older doctrine were true, if our brother's blood still cried to God from the ground, the patriot would be released from the dungeon, and the tyrant would descend from the throne he has polluted."—"Science has shown us that we are under the dominion of general laws, and that there is no special providence, and that prayers are useless, and that propitiation is vain; that whether there be a Deity independent of Nature, or whether Nature be God, it is still the God of the iron foot, that passes on without heeding, without feeling, and without resting; that Nature acts with a fearful uniformity, stern as fate, absolute as tyranny, 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."[294]
In these and similar appeals to the facts of individual or common experience, the scriptural doctrine of Providence and Prayer is supposed to be very different from what it really is, and stated without any of the qualifications which are expressly declared by the sacred writers.
—It is nowhere declared in Scripture that every prayer must receive an immediate answer, whatever may be the object for which it is presented, or the spirit in which it is offered. On the contrary it is expressly written, "If I regard iniquity in my heart, the Lord will not hear me." "But let him ask in faith, nothing wavering; for he that wavereth is like a wave of the sea driven with the wind and tossed: For let not that man think that he shall receive anything of the Lord." "Ye ask, and receive not, because ye ask amiss, that ye may consume it on your lusts."[295]
—It is nowhere declared in Scripture that man is to obtain whatever he asks, irrespective of that Sovereign Will which is guided by unerring wisdom as well as infinite love. On the contrary, prayer is an expression of dependence and subjection, and must ever be qualified by submission to His sovereignty: "Nevertheless not my will, but Thine be done."[296]
—It is nowhere declared in Scripture that Providence will suspend, or that Prayer will counteract, the operation of the general laws of Nature, excepting only in the case of those to whom a promise of miraculous power was vouchsafed. On the contrary, these laws are declared to be stable and permanent: "Thou hast established the earth, and it abideth: they continue this day according to thine ordinances: for all are thy servants;" and any wilful neglect or violation of these laws is a sinful tempting of Providence, even when it may seem to be sanctioned by a perverse application of Scripture itself; for the Saviour himself was solicited on this wise, "If thou be the Son of God, cast thyself down; for it is written, He shall give his angels charge concerning thee, and in their hands they shall bear thee up, lest at any time thou dash thy foot against a stone;" but he answered, "It is written again, Thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God."[297]