When nature and natural laws are alone in operation, and there is no interference on the part of man, natural circumstances continue the same during centuries. At the present time the Amazon river presents about the same appearance as when the first white men paddled their frail canoe along its luxuriant banks. The hand of man has made but few changes. But within the same space of time the Mississippi and its tributaries have undergone the most astonishing changes. Flourishing towns now occupy the former pasture-ground of the buffalo, and where the alligator once held undisturbed possession, are now to be seen golden acres of corn and snowy fields of cotton. It would be hard to recognize in the Germania of Tacitus the Germany of the present day. Soil and climate have both undergone changes. Were men controlled by laws of necessity like the rest of creatures, they never would have been able to effect these modifications of physical nature. There is a principle in man which other creatures want. Together with understanding, he is endowed with a free-will whose action is always perceptible where man engages in an unusual struggle with nature.
Much ado is made about the influence of the social, domestic, and religious condition of the masses upon the individual. It is said that his action is necessarily directed and controlled by this influence. But we would know who creates these particular conditions—who brings them about—and who changes them? Everybody knows that elephants are very sagacious animals. But the elephants employed nowadays in India for the chase and other purposes are not a whit more sagacious nor a whit less stupid than those which King Porus employed in the war against Alexander the Great, 2000 years ago. Had elephants been endowed with understanding and free-will, they would, in all probability, have made some little progress within 2000 years. We never speak of intellect, morals, and religion when animals are the subject of consideration; we only speak of their natural condition, and this circumstance alone shows that we must not look upon man as a mere part of material nature, under the same necessary laws. So far as the body is concerned, he belongs to material nature, and undergoes its influence; but, as to the spirit, he rises above nature, and for this very reason, enters into a contest with nature, and triumphs. The fertile marshes of Holland and Friesland are not a gift from the ocean, but man has wrested them from the ocean; they are the creation of his mind and invincible strength of will.
We several times before made mention of the happy influence of Catholicity upon its adherents. Most Catholics, it is true, belong to the communion by virtue of their descent from Catholic parents, and, thus far, this may be called a natural circumstance. But this same circumstance is brought about by the deliberate and free will of thousands of persons who in England, Germany, and America are annually returning to the old church. Somebody might perhaps imagine a "conversion-law," according to which a certain number of Protestants must inevitably become Catholics every year.
It seems to us that the science of moral statistics has been turned against the dogma of free-will, chiefly because statisticians have directed their attention to such facts only as are most immediately under the control of external circumstances. Had they selected other facts, the result would not have led men so easily to form conclusions opposed to the freedom of the human will. We will give an example. France is a Catholic country. There are 35,000,000 of Catholics in France. It is customary amongst Catholics to go to confession. We suppose it would not be putting the figure too high if we said that about 100,000,000 confessions are heard annually in France. Every statistician will readily grant that in France, and in every Catholic country, the aggregate of the confessions will be nearly alike for different years—and that the proportions of men and women, and the variances for the different seasons, months, days, etc., will present a decided appearance of regularity. Now, would Buckle be ready to say: "In the present condition of France, one hundred millions of confessions must take place every year. This is the general law. The particular inquiry as to who is to go to confession depends, of course, on special laws whose united forces must, however, obey the general laws to which they are subordinate. And the force of the general law is so irresistible, that neither fear of the priest nor the impenitence of man can exert the slightest influence for the hinderance of its action"? We are inclined to think the materialistic historian would have hesitated a while before ranging confession under the economy of nature.
Before concluding, there are two more facts which we beg permission simply to state. Materialists believe in facts. They say that there is no effect without a cause, and that the effect corresponds with the cause. Now, it is an undeniable fact, that every man that has attained the use of reason believes his will to be free. How will materialists account for this fact? The belief in the freedom of the will is an effect—the effect of what?—of real necessity? We thought the effect should correspond with the cause. For centuries men have believed their will free, and for centuries criminals have been held responsible for their deeds, and have been punished—and lo! now the statistician does away with free-will altogether! It is plain that this mode of blotting out free-will is merely a cunning but erroneous piece of calculation.
The second fact is this: As often as a reaction follows upon a period of greater political and social freedom in a state, it has been remarked that at once the number of births decreases and that of deaths increases. It was the case in France in 1854, and in Prussia in 1855. From this fact we infer that liberty is the atmosphere that suits the nature of populations best, and furthers their increase most. If this is the case, can we, in consequence of the mistaken evidences of statistics, refuse individual man the faculty of free-will, which must be the basis and condition of every other kind of liberty? Certainly not.
One more observation. The free-will of man is one of the fundamental dogmas of Christian, and in particular, of Catholic faith. We have seen what can be advanced against it on the evidence of moral statistics. But the case of statistics is like that of many other sciences. Its results, at first, appear opposed to Catholic faith, and the enemies of the church begin to shout with joy at the victory of "Science over Superstition." But when more closely inspected, the new facts and developments are not only nowhere in contradiction to faith, but are often found to agree with and even to aid in substantiating it.