David Hume
Dialogues Concerning Natural Religion
(1779)
Excerpts from the Original Electronic Text at the web site of the Hume Archives.
I must own, CLEANTHES, said DEMEA, that nothing can more surprise me, than the light
in which you have all along put this argument. By the whole tenor of your discourse, one would
imagine that you were maintaining the Being of a God, against the cavils of Atheists and Infidels;
and were necessitated to become a champion for that fundamental principle of all religion. But
this, I hope, is not by any means a question among us. No man, no man at least of common
sense, I am persuaded, ever entertained a serious doubt with regard to a truth so certain and self-evident. The question is not concerning the being, but the nature of God. This, I affirm, from the
infirmities of human understanding, to be altogether incomprehensible and unknown to us. The
essence of that supreme Mind, his attributes, the manner of his existence, the very nature of his
duration; these, and every particular which regards so divine a Being, are mysterious to men.
Finite, weak, and blind creatures, we ought to humble ourselves in his august presence; and,
conscious of our frailties, adore in silence his infinite perfections, which eye hath not seen, ear
hath not heard, neither hath it entered into the heart of man to conceive. They are covered in a
deep cloud from human curiosity. It is profaneness to attempt penetrating through these sacred
obscurities. And, next to the impiety of denying his existence, is the temerity of prying into his
nature and essence, decrees and attributes.
But lest you should think that my piety has here got the better of my philosophy, I shall support
my opinion, if it needs any support, by a very great authority. I might cite all the divines, almost,
from the foundation of Christianity, who have ever treated of this or any other theological
subject: But I shall confine myself, at present, to one equally celebrated for piety and philosophy.
It is Father MALEBRANCHE, who, I remember, thus expresses himself.16 "One ought not so
much," says he, "to call God a spirit, in order to express positively what he is, as in order to
signify that he is not matter. He is a Being infinitely perfect: Of this we cannot doubt. But in the
same manner as we ought not to imagine, even supposing him corporeal, that he is clothed with a
human body, as the ANTHROPOMORPHITES asserted, under colour that that figure was the most
perfect of any; so, neither ought we to imagine that the spirit of God has human ideas, or bears
any resemblance to our spirit, under colour that we know nothing more perfect than a human
mind. We ought rather to believe, that as he comprehends the perfections of matter without being
material.... he comprehends also the perfections of created spirits without being spirit, in the
manner we conceive spirit: That his true name is, He that is; or, in other words, Being without
restriction, All Being, the Being infinite and universal."
After so great an authority, DEMEA, replied PHILO, as that which you have produced, and
a thousand more which you might produce, it would appear ridiculous in me to add my
sentiment, or express my approbation of your doctrine. But surely, where reasonable men treat
these subjects, the question can never be concerning the Being, but only the Nature, of the Deity.
The former truth, as you well observe, is unquestionable and self-evident. Nothing exists without
a cause; and the original cause of this universe (whatever it be) we call God; and piously ascribe
to him every species of perfection. Whoever scruples this fundamental truth, deserves every
punishment which can be inflicted among philosophers, to wit, the greatest ridicule, contempt,
and disapprobation. But as all perfection is entirely relative, we ought never to imagine that we
comprehend the attributes of this divine Being, or to suppose that his perfections have any
analogy or likeness to the perfections of a human creature. Wisdom, Thought, Design,
Knowledge; these we justly ascribe to him; because these words are honourable among men, and
we have no other language or other conceptions by which we can express our adoration of him.
But let us beware, lest we think that our ideas anywise correspond to his perfections, or that his
attributes have any resemblance to these qualities among men. He is infinitely superior to our
limited view and comprehension; and is more the object of worship in the temple, than of
disputation in the schools.
In reality, CLEANTHES, continued he, there is no need of having recourse to that affected
scepticism so displeasing to you, in order to come at this determination. Our ideas reach no
further than our experience. We have no experience of divine attributes and operations. I need
not conclude my syllogism. You can draw the inference yourself. And it is a pleasure to me (and
I hope to you too) that just reasoning and sound piety here concur in the same conclusion, and
both of them establish the adorably mysterious and incomprehensible nature of the Supreme
Being.
Not to lose any time in circumlocutions, said CLEANTHES, addressing himself to DEMEA,
much less in replying to the pious declamations of PHILO; I shall briefly explain how I
conceive this matter. Look round the world: contemplate the whole and every part of it: You will
find it to be nothing but one great machine, subdivided into an infinite number of lesser
machines, which again admit of subdivisions to a degree beyond what human senses and
faculties can trace and explain. All these various machines, and even their most minute parts, are
adjusted to each other with an accuracy which ravishes into admiration all men who have ever
contemplated them. The curious adapting of means to ends, throughout all nature, resembles
exactly, though it much exceeds, the productions of human contrivance; of human designs,
thought, wisdom, and intelligence. Since, therefore, the effects resemble each other, we are led to
infer, by all the rules of analogy, that the causes also resemble; and that the Author of Nature is
somewhat similar to the mind of man, though possessed of much larger faculties, proportioned to
the grandeur of the work which he has executed. By this argument a posteriori, and by this
argument alone, do we prove at once the existence of a Deity, and his similarity to human mind
and intelligence.
I shall be so free, CLEANTHES, said DEMEA, as to tell you, that from the beginning, I
could not approve of your conclusion concerning the similarity of the Deity to men; still less can
I approve of the mediums by which you endeavour to establish it. What! No demonstration of the
Being of God! No abstract arguments! No proofs a priori! Are these, which have hitherto been so
much insisted on by philosophers, all fallacy, all sophism? Can we reach no further in this
subject than experience and probability? I will not say that this is betraying the cause of a Deity:
But surely, by this affected candour, you give advantages to Atheists, which they never could
obtain by the mere dint of argument and reasoning.
What I chiefly scruple in this subject, said PHILO, is not so much that all religious arguments
are by CLEANTHES reduced to experience, as that they appear not to be even the most certain
and irrefragable of that inferior kind. That a stone will fall, that fire will burn, that the earth has
solidity, we have observed a thousand and a thousand times; and when any new instance of this
nature is presented, we draw without hesitation the accustomed inference. The exact similarity of
the cases gives us a perfect assurance of a similar event; and a stronger evidence is never desired
nor sought after. But wherever you depart, in the least, from the similarity of the cases, you
diminish proportionably the evidence; and may at last bring it to a very weak analogy, which is
confessedly liable to error and uncertainty. After having experienced the circulation of the blood
in human creatures, we make no doubt that it takes place in TITIUS and MAEVIUS. But from
its circulation in frogs and fishes, it is only a presumption, though a strong one, from analogy,
that it takes place in men and other animals. The analogical reasoning is much weaker, when we
infer the circulation of the sap in vegetables from our experience that the blood circulates in
animals; and those, who hastily followed that imperfect analogy, are found, by more accurate
experiments, to have been mistaken.
If we see a house, CLEANTHES, we conclude, with the greatest certainty, that it had an
architect or builder; because this is precisely that species of effect which we have experienced to
proceed from that species of cause. But surely you will not affirm, that the universe bears such a
resemblance to a house, that we can with the same certainty infer a similar cause, or that the
analogy is here entire and perfect. The dissimilitude is so striking, that the utmost you can here
pretend to is a guess, a conjecture, a presumption concerning a similar cause; and how that
pretension will be received in the world, I leave you to consider.
It would surely be very ill received, replied CLEANTHES; and I should be deservedly blamed
and detested, did I allow, that the proofs of a Deity amounted to no more than a guess or
conjecture. But is the whole adjustment of means to ends in a house and in the universe so slight
a resemblance? The economy of final causes? The order, proportion, and arrangement of every
part? Steps of a stair are plainly contrived, that human legs may use them in mounting; and this
inference is certain and infallible. Human legs are also contrived for walking and mounting; and
this inference, I allow, is not altogether so certain, because of the dissimilarity which you remark;
but does it, therefore, deserve the name only of presumption or conjecture?17
Good God! cried DEMEA, interrupting him, where are we? Zealous defenders of religion
allow, that the proofs of a Deity fall short of perfect evidence! And you, PHILO, on whose
assistance I depended in proving the adorable mysteriousness of the Divine Nature, do you assent
to all these extravagant opinions of CLEANTHES? For what other name can I give them? or,
why spare my censure, when such principles are advanced, supported by such an authority,
before so young a man as PAMPHILUS?
You seem not to apprehend, replied PHILO, that I argue with CLEANTHES in his own way;
and, by showing him the dangerous consequences of his tenets, hope at last to reduce him to our
opinion. But what sticks most with you, I observe, is the representation which CLEANTHES has
made of the argument a posteriori; and finding that that argument is likely to escape your hold
and vanish into air, you think it so disguised, that you can scarcely believe it to be set in its true
light. Now, however much I may dissent, in other respects, from the dangerous principles of
CLEANTHES, I must allow that he has fairly represented that argument; and I shall endeavour
so to state the matter to you, that you will entertain no further scruples with regard to it.
Were a man to abstract from every thing which he knows or has seen, he would be altogether
incapable, merely from his own ideas, to determine what kind of scene the universe must be, or
to give the preference to one state or situation of things above another. For as nothing which he
clearly conceives could be esteemed impossible or implying a contradiction, every chimera of his
fancy would be upon an equal footing; nor could he assign any just reason why he adheres to one
idea or system, and rejects the others which are equally possible.
Again; after he opens his eyes, and contemplates the world as it really is, it would be
impossible for him at first to assign the cause of any one event, much less of the whole of things,
or of the universe. He might set his fancy a rambling; and she might bring him in an infinite
variety of reports and representations. These would all be possible; but being all equally possible,
he would never of himself give a satisfactory account for his preferring one of them to the rest.
Experience alone can point out to him the true cause of any phenomenon.
Now, according to this method of reasoning, DEMEA, it follows, (and is, indeed, tacitly
allowed by CLEANTHES himself,) that order, arrangement, or the adjustment of final causes, is
not of itself any proof of design; but only so far as it has been experienced to proceed from that
principle. For aught we can know a priori, matter may contain the source or spring of order
originally within itself, as well as mind does; and there is no more difficulty in conceiving, that
the several elements, from an internal unknown cause, may fall into the most exquisite
arrangement, than to conceive that their ideas, in the great universal mind, from a like internal
unknown cause, fall into that arrangement. The equal possibility of both these suppositions is
allowed. But, by experience, we find, (according to CLEANTHES), that there is a difference
between them. Throw several pieces of steel together, without shape or form; they will never
arrange themselves so as to compose a watch. Stone, and mortar, and wood, without an architect,
never erect a house. But the ideas in a human mind, we see, by an unknown, inexplicable
economy, arrange themselves so as to form the plan of a watch or house. Experience, therefore,
proves, that there is an original principle of order in mind, not in matter. From similar effects we
infer similar causes. The adjustment of means to ends is alike in the universe, as in a machine of
human contrivance. The causes, therefore, must be resembling.
I was from the beginning scandalised, I must own, with this resemblance, which is asserted,
between the Deity and human creatures; and must conceive it to imply such a degradation of the
Supreme Being as no sound Theist could endure. With your assistance, therefore, DEMEA, I
shall endeavour to defend what you justly call the adorable mysteriousness of the Divine Nature,
and shall refute this reasoning of CLEANTHES, provided he allows that I have made a fair
representation of it.
When CLEANTHES had assented, PHILO, after a short pause, proceeded in the following
manner.
That all inferences, CLEANTHES, concerning fact, are founded on experience; and that all
experimental reasonings are founded on the supposition that similar causes prove similar effects,
and similar effects similar causes; I shall not at present much dispute with you. But observe, I
entreat you, with what extreme caution all just reasoners proceed in the transferring of
experiments to similar cases. Unless the cases be exactly similar, they repose no perfect
confidence in applying their past observation to any particular phenomenon. Every alteration of
circumstances occasions a doubt concerning the event; and it requires new experiments to prove
certainly, that the new circumstances are of no moment or importance. A change in bulk,
situation, arrangement, age, disposition of the air, or surrounding bodies; any of these particulars
may be attended with the most unexpected consequences: And unless the objects be quite
familiar to us, it is the highest temerity to expect with assurance, after any of these changes, an
event similar to that which before fell under our observation. The slow and deliberate steps of
philosophers here, if any where, are distinguished from the precipitate march of the vulgar, who,
hurried on by the smallest similitude, are incapable of all discernment or consideration.
But can you think, CLEANTHES, that your usual phlegm and philosophy have been preserved
in so wide a step as you have taken, when you compared to the universe houses, ships, furniture,
machines, and, from their similarity in some circumstances, inferred a similarity in their causes?
Thought, design, intelligence, such as we discover in men and other animals, is no more than one
of the springs and principles of the universe, as well as heat or cold, attraction or repulsion, and a
hundred others, which fall under daily observation. It is an active cause, by which some
particular parts of nature, we find, produce alterations on other parts. But can a conclusion, with
any propriety, be transferred from parts to the whole? Does not the great disproportion bar all
comparison and inference? From observing the growth of a hair, can we learn any thing
concerning the generation of a man? Would the manner of a leaf's blowing, even though
perfectly known, afford us any instruction concerning the vegetation of a tree?
But, allowing that we were to take the operations of one part of nature upon another, for the
foundation of our judgement concerning the origin of the whole, (which never can be admitted,)
yet why select so minute, so weak, so bounded a principle, as the reason and design of animals is
found to be upon this planet? What peculiar privilege has this little agitation of the brain which
we call thought, that we must thus make it the model of the whole universe? Our partiality in our
own favour does indeed present it on all occasions; but sound philosophy ought carefully to
guard against so natural an illusion.
So far from admitting, continued PHILO, that the operations of a part can afford us any just
conclusion concerning the origin of the whole, I will not allow any one part to form a rule for
another part, if the latter be very remote from the former. Is there any reasonable ground to
conclude, that the inhabitants of other planets possess thought, intelligence, reason, or any thing
similar to these faculties in men? When nature has so extremely diversified her manner of
operation in this small globe, can we imagine that she incessantly copies herself throughout so
immense a universe? And if thought, as we may well suppose, be confined merely to this narrow
corner, and has even there so limited a sphere of action, with what propriety can we assign it for
the original cause of all things? The narrow views of a peasant, who makes his domestic
economy the rule for the government of kingdoms, is in comparison a pardonable sophism.
But were we ever so much assured, that a thought and reason, resembling the human, were to
be found throughout the whole universe, and were its activity elsewhere vastly greater and more
commanding than it appears in this globe; yet I cannot see, why the operations of a world
constituted, arranged, adjusted, can with any propriety be extended to a world which is in its
embryo state, and is advancing towards that constitution and arrangement. By observation, we
know somewhat of the economy, action, and nourishment of a finished animal; but we must
transfer with great caution that observation to the growth of a foetus in the womb, and still more
to the formation of an animalcule in the loins of its male parent. Nature, we find, even from our
limited experience, possesses an infinite number of springs and principles, which incessantly
discover themselves on every change of her position and situation. And what new and unknown
principles would actuate her in so new and unknown a situation as that of the formation of a
universe, we cannot, without the utmost temerity, pretend to determine.
A very small part of this great system, during a very short time, is very imperfectly discovered
to us; and do we thence pronounce decisively concerning the origin of the whole?
Admirable conclusion! Stone, wood, brick, iron, brass, have not, at this time, in this minute
globe of earth, an order or arrangement without human art and contrivance; therefore the
universe could not originally attain its order and arrangement, without something similar to
human art. But is a part of nature a rule for another part very wide of the former? Is it a rule for
the whole? Is a very small part a rule for the universe? Is nature in one situation, a certain rule for
nature in another situation vastly different from the former?
And can you blame me, CLEANTHES, if I here imitate the prudent reserve of SIMONIDES,
who, according to the noted story,18 being asked by HIERO, What God was? desired a day
to think of it, and then two days more; and after that manner continually prolonged the term,
without ever bringing in his definition or description? Could you even blame me, if I had
answered at first, that I did not know, and was sensible that this subject lay vastly beyond the
reach of my faculties? You might cry out sceptic and railler, as much as you pleased: but having
found, in so many other subjects much more familiar, the imperfections and even contradictions
of human reason, I never should expect any success from its feeble conjectures, in a subject so
sublime, and so remote from the sphere of our observation. When two species of objects have
always been observed to be conjoined together, I can infer, by custom, the existence of one
wherever I see the existence of the other; and this I call an argument from experience. But how
this argument can have place, where the objects, as in the present case, are single, individual,
without parallel, or specific resemblance, may be difficult to explain. And will any man tell me
with a serious countenance, that an orderly universe must arise from some thought and art like
the human, because we have experience of it? To ascertain this reasoning, it were requisite that
we had experience of the origin of worlds; and it is not sufficient, surely, that we have seen ships
and cities arise from human art and contrivance.
PHILO was proceeding in this vehement manner, somewhat between jest and earnest, as it
appeared to me, when he observed some signs of impatience in CLEANTHES, and then
immediately stopped short. What I had to suggest, said CLEANTHES, is only that you would
not abuse terms, or make use of popular expressions to subvert philosophical reasonings. You
know, that the vulgar often distinguish reason from experience, even where the question relates
only to matter of fact and existence; though it is found, where that reason is properly analysed,
that it is nothing but a species of experience. To prove by experience the origin of the universe
from mind, is not more contrary to common speech, than to prove the motion of the earth from
the same principle. And a caviller might raise all the same objections to the Copernican system,
which you have urged against my reasonings. Have you other earths, might he say, which you
have seen to move? Have
Yes! cried PHILO, interrupting him, we have other earths. Is not the moon another earth,
which we see to turn round its centre? Is not Venus another earth, where we observe the same
phenomenon? Are not the revolutions of the sun also a confirmation, from analogy, of the same
theory? All the planets, are they not earths, which revolve about the sun? Are not the satellites
moons, which move round Jupiter and Saturn, and along with these primary planets round the
sun? These analogies and resemblances, with others which I have not mentioned, are the sole
proofs of the COPERNICAN system; and to you it belongs to consider, whether you have any
analogies of the same kind to support your theory.
In reality, CLEANTHES, continued he, the modern system of astronomy is now so much
received by all inquirers, and has become so essential a part even of our earliest education, that
we are not commonly very scrupulous in examining the reasons upon which it is founded. It is
now become a matter of mere curiosity to study the first writers on that subject, who had the full
force of prejudice to encounter, and were obliged to turn their arguments on every side in order
to render them popular and convincing. But if we peruse GALILEO's famous Dialogues
concerning the system of the world, we shall find, that that great genius, one of the sublimest that
ever existed, first bent all his endeavours to prove, that there was no foundation for the
distinction commonly made between elementary and celestial substances. The schools,
proceeding from the illusions of sense, had carried this distinction very far; and had established
the latter substances to be ingenerable, incorruptible, unalterable, impassable; and had assigned
all the opposite qualities to the former. But GALILEO, beginning with the moon, proved its
similarity in every particular to the earth; its convex figure, its natural darkness when not
illuminated, its density, its distinction into solid and liquid, the variations of its phases, the
mutual illuminations of the earth and moon, their mutual eclipses, the inequalities of the lunar
surface, &c. After many instances of this kind, with regard to all the planets, men plainly saw
that these bodies became proper objects of experience; and that the similarity of their nature
enabled us to extend the same arguments and phenomena from one to the other.
In this cautious proceeding of the astronomers, you may read your own condemnation,
CLEANTHES; or rather may see, that the subject in which you are engaged exceeds all human
reason and inquiry. Can you pretend to show any such similarity between the fabric of a house,
and the generation of a universe? Have you ever seen nature in any such situation as resembles
the first arrangement of the elements? Have worlds ever been formed under your eye; and have
you had leisure to observe the whole progress of the phenomenon, from the first appearance of
order to its final consummation? If you have, then cite your experience, and deliver your theory.
How the most absurd argument, replied CLEANTHES, in the hands of a man of ingenuity and
invention, may acquire an air of probability! Are you not aware, PHILO, that it became
necessary for Copernicus and his first disciples to prove the similarity of the terrestrial and
celestial matter; because several philosophers, blinded by old systems, and supported by some
sensible appearances, had denied this similarity? but that it is by no means necessary, that
Theists should prove the similarity of the works of Nature to those of Art; because this similarity
is self-evident and undeniable? The same matter, a like form; what more is requisite to show an
analogy between their causes, and to ascertain the origin of all things from a divine purpose and
intention? Your objections, I must freely tell you, are no better than the abstruse cavils of those
philosophers who denied motion; and ought to be refuted in the same manner, by illustrations,
examples, and instances, rather than by serious argument and philosophy.
Suppose, therefore, that an articulate voice were heard in the clouds, much louder and more
melodious than any which human art could ever reach: Suppose, that this voice were extended in
the same instant over all nations, and spoke to each nation in its own language and dialect:
Suppose, that the words delivered not only contain a just sense and meaning, but convey some
instruction altogether worthy of a benevolent Being, superior to mankind: Could you possibly
hesitate a moment concerning the cause of this voice? and must you not instantly ascribe it to
some design or purpose? Yet I cannot see but all the same objections (if they merit that
appellation) which lie against the system of Theism, may also be produced against this inference.
Might you not say, that all conclusions concerning fact were founded on experience: that when
we hear an articulate voice in the dark, and thence infer a man, it is only the resemblance of the
effects which leads us to conclude that there is a like resemblance in the cause: but that this
extraordinary voice, by its loudness, extent, and flexibility to all languages, bears so little
analogy to any human voice, that we have no reason to suppose any analogy in their causes: and
consequently, that a rational, wise, coherent speech proceeded, you know not whence, from some
accidental whistling of the winds, not from any divine reason or intelligence? You see clearly
your own objections in these cavils, and I hope too you see clearly, that they cannot possibly
have more force in the one case than in the other.
But to bring the case still nearer the present one of the universe, I shall make two suppositions,
which imply not any absurdity or impossibility. Suppose that there is a natural, universal,
invariable language, common to every individual of human race; and that books are natural
productions, which perpetuate themselves in the same manner with animals and vegetables, by
descent and propagation. Several expressions of our passions contain a universal language: all
brute animals have a natural speech, which, however limited, is very intelligible to their own
species. And as there are infinitely fewer parts and less contrivance in the finest composition of
eloquence, than in the coarsest organised body, the propagation of an Iliad or Aeneid is an easier
supposition than that of any plant or animal.
Suppose, therefore, that you enter into your library, thus peopled by natural volumes,
containing the most refined reason and most exquisite beauty; could you possibly open one of
them, and doubt, that its original cause bore the strongest analogy to mind and intelligence?
When it reasons and discourses; when it expostulates, argues, and enforces its views and topics;
when it applies sometimes to the pure intellect, sometimes to the affections; when it collects,
disposes, and adorns every consideration suited to the subject; could you persist in asserting, that
all this, at the bottom, had really no meaning; and that the first formation of this volume in the
loins of its original parent proceeded not from thought and design? Your obstinacy, I know,
reaches not that degree of firmness: even your sceptical play and wantonness would be abashed
at so glaring an absurdity.
But if there be any difference, PHILO, between this supposed case and the real one of the
universe, it is all to the advantage of the latter. The anatomy of an animal affords many stronger
instances of design than the perusal of LIVY or TACITUS; and any objection which you start
in the former case, by carrying me back to so unusual and extraordinary a scene as the first
formation of worlds, the same objection has place on the supposition of our vegetating library.
Choose, then, your party, PHILO, without ambiguity or evasion; assert either that a rational
volume is no proof of a rational cause, or admit of a similar cause to all the works of nature.
Let me here observe too, continued CLEANTHES, that this religious argument, instead of
being weakened by that scepticism so much affected by you, rather acquires force from it, and
becomes more firm and undisputed. To exclude all argument or reasoning of every kind, is either
affectation or madness. The declared profession of every reasonable sceptic is only to reject
abstruse, remote, and refined arguments; to adhere to common sense and the plain instincts of
nature; and to assent, wherever any reasons strike him with so full a force that he cannot, without
the greatest violence, prevent it. Now the arguments for Natural Religion are plainly of this kind;
and nothing but the most perverse, obstinate metaphysics can reject them. Consider, anatomise
the eye; survey its structure and contrivance; and tell me, from your own feeling, if the idea of a
contriver does not immediately flow in upon you with a force like that of sensation. The most
obvious conclusion, surely, is in favour of design; and it requires time, reflection, and study, to
summon up those frivolous, though abstruse objections, which can support Infidelity. Who can
behold the male and female of each species, the correspondence of their parts and instincts, their
passions, and whole course of life before and after generation, but must be sensible, that the
propagation of the species is intended by Nature? Millions and millions of such instances present
themselves through every part of the universe; and no language can convey a more intelligible
irresistible meaning, than the curious adjustment of final causes. To what degree, therefore, of
blind dogmatism must one have attained, to reject such natural and such convincing arguments?
Some beauties in writing we may meet with, which seem contrary to rules, and which gain the
affections, and animate the imagination, in opposition to all the precepts of criticism, and to the
authority of the established masters of art. And if the argument for Theism be, as you pretend,
contradictory to the principles of logic; its universal, its irresistible influence proves clearly, that
there may be arguments of a like irregular nature. Whatever cavils may be urged, an orderly
world, as well as a coherent, articulate speech, will still be received as an incontestable proof of
design and intention.
It sometimes happens, I own, that the religious arguments have not their due influence on an
ignorant savage and barbarian; not because they are obscure and difficult, but because he never
asks himself any question with regard to them. Whence arises the curious structure of an animal?
From the copulation of its parents. And these whence? From their parents? A few removes set
the objects at such a distance, that to him they are lost in darkness and confusion; nor is he
actuated by any curiosity to trace them further. But this is neither dogmatism nor scepticism, but
stupidity: a state of mind very different from your sifting, inquisitive disposition, my ingenious
friend. You can trace causes from effects: You can compare the most distant and remote objects:
and your greatest errors proceed not from barrenness of thought and invention, but from too
luxuriant a fertility, which suppresses your natural good sense, by a profusion of unnecessary
scruples and objections.
Here I could observe, HERMIPPUS, that PHILO was a little embarrassed and confounded:
But while he hesitated in delivering an answer, luckily for him, DEMEA broke in upon the
discourse, and saved his countenance.
Your instance, CLEANTHES, said he, drawn from books and language, being familiar, has, I
confess, so much more force on that account: but is there not some danger too in this very
circumstance; and may it not render us presumptuous, by making us imagine we comprehend the
Deity, and have some adequate idea of his nature and attributes? When I read a volume, I enter
into the mind and intention of the author: I become him, in a manner, for the instant; and have an
immediate feeling and conception of those ideas which revolved in his imagination while
employed in that composition. But so near an approach we never surely can make to the Deity.
His ways are not our ways. His attributes are perfect, but incomprehensible. And this volume of
nature contains a great and inexplicable riddle, more than any intelligible discourse or reasoning.
The ancient PLATONISTS, you know, were the most religious and devout of all the Pagan
philosophers; yet many of them, particularly PLOTINUS, expressly declare, that intellect or
understanding is not to be ascribed to the Deity; and that our most perfect worship of him
consists, not in acts of veneration, reverence, gratitude, or love; but in a certain mysterious self-annihilation, or total extinction of all our faculties. These ideas are, perhaps, too far stretched; but
still it must be acknowledged, that, by representing the Deity as so intelligible and
comprehensible, and so similar to a human mind, we are guilty of the grossest and most narrow
partiality, and make ourselves the model of the whole universe.
All the sentiments of the human mind, gratitude, resentment, love, friendship, approbation,
blame, pity, emulation, envy, have a plain reference to the state and situation of man, and are
calculated for preserving the existence and promoting the activity of such a being in such
circumstances. It seems, therefore, unreasonable to transfer such sentiments to a supreme
existence, or to suppose him actuated by them; and the phenomena besides of the universe will
not support us in such a theory. All our ideas, derived from the senses, are confessedly false and
illusive; and cannot therefore be supposed to have place in a supreme intelligence: And as the
ideas of internal sentiment, added to those of the external senses, compose the whole furniture of
human understanding, we may conclude, that none of the materials of thought are in any respect
similar in the human and in the divine intelligence. Now, as to the manner of thinking; how can
we make any comparison between them, or suppose them any wise resembling? Our thought is
fluctuating, uncertain, fleeting, successive, and compounded; and were we to remove these
circumstances, we absolutely annihilate its essence, and it would in such a case be an abuse of
terms to apply to it the name of thought or reason. At least if it appear more pious and respectful
(as it really is) still to retain these terms, when we mention the Supreme Being, we ought to
acknowledge, that their meaning, in that case, is totally incomprehensible; and that the infirmities
of our nature do not permit us to reach any ideas which in the least correspond to the ineffable
sublimity of the Divine attributes.
It seems strange to me, said CLEANTHES, that you, DEMEA, who are so sincere in the
cause of religion, should still maintain the mysterious, incomprehensible nature of the Deity, and
should insist so strenuously that he has no manner of likeness or resemblance to human
creatures. The Deity, I can readily allow, possesses many powers and attributes of which we can
have no comprehension: But if our ideas, so far as they go, be not just, and adequate, and
correspondent to his real nature, I know not what there is in this subject worth insisting on. Is the
name, without any meaning, of such mighty importance? Or how do you mystics, who maintain
the absolute incomprehensibility of the Deity, differ from Sceptics or Atheists, who assert, that
the first cause of all is unknown and unintelligible? Their temerity must be very great, if, after
rejecting the production by a mind, I mean a mind resembling the human, (for I know of no
other,) they pretend to assign, with certainty, any other specific intelligible cause: And their
conscience must be very scrupulous indeed, if they refuse to call the universal unknown cause a
God or Deity; and to bestow on him as many sublime eulogies and unmeaning epithets as you
shall please to require of them.
Who could imagine, replied DEMEA, that CLEANTHES, the calm philosophical
CLEANTHES, would attempt to refute his antagonists by affixing a nickname to them; and, like
the common bigots and inquisitors of the age, have recourse to invective and declamation,
instead of reasoning? Or does he not perceive, that these topics are easily retorted, and that
Anthropomorphite is an appellation as invidious, and implies as dangerous consequences, as the
epithet of Mystic, with which he has honoured us? In reality, CLEANTHES, consider what it is
you assert when you represent the Deity as similar to a human mind and understanding. What is
the soul of man? A composition of various faculties, passions, sentiments, ideas; united, indeed,
into one self or person, but still distinct from each other. When it reasons, the ideas, which are
the parts of its discourse, arrange themselves in a certain form or order; which is not preserved
entire for a moment, but immediately gives place to another arrangement. New opinions, new
passions, new affections, new feelings arise, which continually diversify the mental scene, and
produce in it the greatest variety and most rapid succession imaginable. How is this compatible
with that perfect immutability and simplicity which all true Theists ascribe to the Deity? By the
same act, say they, he sees past, present, and future: His love and hatred, his mercy and justice,
are one individual operation: He is entire in every point of space; and complete in every instant
of duration. No succession, no change, no acquisition, no diminution. What he is implies not in it
any shadow of distinction or diversity. And what he is this moment he ever has been, and ever
will be, without any new judgement, sentiment, or operation. He stands fixed in one simple,
perfect state: nor can you ever say, with any propriety, that this act of his is different from that
other; or that this judgement or idea has been lately formed, and will give place, by succession, to
any different judgement or idea.
I can readily allow, said CLEANTHES, that those who maintain the perfect simplicity of the
Supreme Being, to the extent in which you have explained it, are complete Mystics, and
chargeable with all the consequences which I have drawn from their opinion. They are, in a
word, Atheists, without knowing it. For though it be allowed, that the Deity possesses attributes
of which we have no comprehension, yet ought we never to ascribe to him any attributes which
are absolutely incompatible with that intelligent nature essential to him. A mind, whose acts and
sentiments and ideas are not distinct and successive; one, that is wholly simple, and totally
immutable, is a mind which has no thought, no reason, no will, no sentiment, no love, no hatred;
or, in a word, is no mind at all. It is an abuse of terms to give it that appellation; and we may as
well speak of limited extension without figure, or of number without composition.
Pray consider, said PHILO, whom you are at present inveighing against. You are honouring
with the appellation of Atheist all the sound, orthodox divines, almost, who have treated of this
subject; and you will at last be, yourself, found, according to your reckoning, the only sound
Theist in the world. But if idolaters be Atheists, as, I think, may justly be asserted, and Christian
Theologians the same, what becomes of the argument, so much celebrated, derived from the
universal consent of mankind?
But because I know you are not much swayed by names and authorities, I shall endeavour to
show you, a little more distinctly, the inconveniences of that Anthropomorphism, which you
have embraced; and shall prove, that there is no ground to suppose a plan of the world to be
formed in the Divine mind, consisting of distinct ideas, differently arranged, in the same manner
as an architect forms in his head the plan of a house which he intends to execute.
It is not easy, I own, to see what is gained by this supposition, whether we judge of the matter
by Reason or by Experience. We are still obliged to mount higher, in order to find the cause of
this cause, which you had assigned as satisfactory and conclusive.
If Reason (I mean abstract reason, derived from inquiries a priori) be not alike mute with
regard to all questions concerning cause and effect, this sentence at least it will venture to
pronounce, That a mental world, or universe of ideas, requires a cause as much, as does a
material world, or universe of objects; and, if similar in its arrangement, must require a similar
cause. For what is there in this subject, which should occasion a different conclusion or
inference? In an abstract view, they are entirely alike; and no difficulty attends the one
supposition, which is not common to both of them.
Again, when we will needs force Experience to pronounce some sentence, even on these
subjects which lie beyond her sphere, neither can she perceive any material difference in this
particular, between these two kinds of worlds; but finds them to be governed by similar
principles, and to depend upon an equal variety of causes in their operations. We have specimens
in miniature of both of them. Our own mind resembles the one; a vegetable or animal body the
other. Let experience, therefore, judge from these samples. Nothing seems more delicate, with
regard to its causes, than thought; and as these causes never operate in two persons after the same
manner, so we never find two persons who think exactly alike. Nor indeed does the same person
think exactly alike at any two different periods of time. A difference of age, of the disposition of
his body, of weather, of food, of company, of books, of passions; any of these particulars, or
others more minute, are sufficient to alter the curious machinery of thought, and communicate to
it very different movements and operations. As far as we can judge, vegetables and animal
bodies are not more delicate in their motions, nor depend upon a greater variety or more curious
adjustment of springs and principles.
How, therefore, shall we satisfy ourselves concerning the cause of that Being whom you
suppose the Author of Nature, or, according to your system of Anthropomorphism, the ideal
world, into which you trace the material? Have we not the same reason to trace that ideal world
into another ideal world, or new intelligent principle? But if we stop, and go no further; why go
so far? why not stop at the material world? How can we satisfy ourselves without going on in
infinitum? And, after all, what satisfaction is there in that infinite progression? Let us remember
the story of the Indian philosopher and his elephant. It was never more applicable than to the
present subject. If the material world rests upon a similar ideal world, this ideal world must rest
upon some other; and so on, without end. It were better, therefore, never to look beyond the
present material world. By supposing it to contain the principle of its order within itself, we
really assert it to be God; and the sooner we arrive at that Divine Being, so much the better.
When you go one step beyond the mundane system, you only excite an inquisitive humour which
it is impossible ever to satisfy.
To say, that the different ideas which compose the reason of the Supreme Being, fall into order
of themselves, and by their own nature, is really to talk without any precise meaning. If it has a
meaning, I would fain know, why it is not as good sense to say, that the parts of the material
world fall into order of themselves and by their own nature. Can the one opinion be intelligible,
while the other is not so?
We have, indeed, experience of ideas which fall into order of themselves, and without any
known cause. But, I am sure, we have a much larger experience of matter which does the same;
as, in all instances of generation and vegetation, where the accurate analysis of the cause exceeds
all human comprehension. We have also experience of particular systems of thought and of
matter which have no order; of the first in madness, of the second in corruption. Why, then,
should we think, that order is more essential to one than the other? And if it requires a cause in
both, what do we gain by your system, in tracing the universe of objects into a similar universe
of ideas? The first step which we make leads us on for ever. It were, therefore, wise in us to limit
all our inquiries to the present world, without looking further. No satisfaction can ever be
attained by these speculations, which so far exceed the narrow bounds of human understanding.
It was usual with the PERIPATETICS, you know, CLEANTHES, when the cause of any
phenomenon was demanded, to have recourse to their faculties or occult qualities; and to say, for
instance, that bread nourished by its nutritive faculty, and senna19 purged by its purgative. But
it has been discovered, that this subterfuge was nothing but the disguise of ignorance; and that
these philosophers, though less ingenuous, really said the same thing with the sceptics or the
vulgar, who fairly confessed that they knew not the cause of these phenomena. In like manner,
when it is asked, what cause produces order in the ideas of the Supreme Being; can any other
reason be assigned by you, Anthropomorphites, than that it is a rational faculty, and that such is
the nature of the Deity? But why a similar answer will not be equally satisfactory in accounting
for the order of the world, without having recourse to any such intelligent creator as you insist
on, may be difficult to determine. It is only to say, that such is the nature of material objects, and
that they are all originally possessed of a faculty of order and proportion. These are only more
learned and elaborate ways of confessing our ignorance; nor has the one hypothesis any real
advantage above the other, except in its greater conformity to vulgar prejudices.
You have displayed this argument with great emphasis, replied CLEANTHES: You seem not
sensible how easy it is to answer it. Even in common life, if I assign a cause for any event, is it
any objection, PHILO, that I cannot assign the cause of that cause, and answer every new
question which may incessantly be started? And what philosophers could possibly submit to so
rigid a rule? philosophers, who confess ultimate causes to be totally unknown; and are sensible,
that the most refined principles into which they trace the phenomena, are still to them as
inexplicable as these phenomena themselves are to the vulgar. The order and arrangement of
nature, the curious adjustment of final causes, the plain use and intention of every part and organ;
all these bespeak in the clearest language an intelligent cause or author. The heavens and the
earth join in the same testimony: The whole chorus of Nature raises one hymn to the praises of
its Creator. You alone, or almost alone, disturb this general harmony. You start abstruse doubts,
cavils, and objections: You ask me, what is the cause of this cause? I know not; I care not; that
concerns not me. I have found a Deity; and here I stop my inquiry. Let those go further, who are
wiser or more enterprising.
I pretend to be neither, replied PHILO: And for that very reason, I should never perhaps have
attempted to go so far; especially when I am sensible, that I must at last be contented to sit down
with the same answer, which, without further trouble, might have satisfied me from the
beginning. If I am still to remain in utter ignorance of causes, and can absolutely give an
explication of nothing, I shall never esteem it any advantage to shove off for a moment a
difficulty, which, you acknowledge, must immediately, in its full force, recur upon me.
Naturalists indeed very justly explain particular effects by more general causes, though these
general causes themselves should remain in the end totally inexplicable; but they never surely
thought it satisfactory to explain a particular effect by a particular cause, which was no more to
be accounted for than the effect itself. An ideal system, arranged of itself, without a precedent
design, is not a whit more explicable than a material one, which attains its order in a like manner;
nor is there any more difficulty in the latter supposition than in the former.
But to show you still more inconveniences, continued PHILO, in your Anthropomorphism,
please to take a new survey of your principles. Like effects prove like causes. This is the
experimental argument; and this, you say too, is the sole theological argument. Now, it is certain,
that the liker the effects are which are seen, and the liker the causes which are inferred, the
stronger is the argument. Every departure on either side diminishes the probability, and renders
the experiment less conclusive. You cannot doubt of the principle; neither ought you to reject its
consequences.
All the new discoveries in astronomy, which prove the immense grandeur and magnificence of
the works of Nature, are so many additional arguments for a Deity, according to the true system
of Theism; but, according to your hypothesis of experimental Theism, they become so many
objections, by removing the effect still further from all resemblance to the effects of human art
and contrivance. For, if LUCRETIUS, even following the old system of the world, could
exclaim,
Quis regere immensi summam, quis habere profundi
Indu manu validas potis est moderanter habenas?
Quis pariter coelos omnes convertere? et omnes
Ignibus aetheriis terras suffire feraces?
Omnibus inque locis esse omni tempore praesto?20
If TULLY esteemed this reasoning so natural, as to put it into the mouth of his
EPICUREAN:
"Quibus enim oculis animi intueri potuit vester Plato fabricam illam tanti operis, qua
construi a Deo atque aedificari mundum facit? quae molitio? quae ferramenta? qui
vectes? quae machinae? qui ministri tanti muneris fuerunt? quemadmodum autem
obedire et parere voluntati architecti aer, ignis, aqua, terra potuerunt?"21
If this argument, I say, had any force in former ages, how much greater must it have at present,
when the bounds of Nature are so infinitely enlarged, and such a magnificent scene is opened to
us? It is still more unreasonable to form our idea of so unlimited a cause from our experience of
the narrow productions of human design and invention.
The discoveries by microscopes, as they open a new universe in miniature, are still objections,
according to you, arguments, according to me. The further we push our researches of this kind,
we are still led to infer the universal cause of all to be vastly different from mankind, or from any
object of human experience and observation.
And what say you to the discoveries in anatomy, chemistry, botany? These surely are no
objections, replied CLEANTHES; they only discover new instances of art and contrivance. It is
still the image of mind reflected on us from innumerable objects. Add, a mind like the human,
said PHILO. I know of no other, replied CLEANTHES. And the liker the better, insisted
PHILO. To be sure, said CLEANTHES .
Now, CLEANTHES, said PHILO, with an air of alacrity and triumph, mark the
consequences. First, By this method of reasoning, you renounce all claim to infinity in any of the
attributes of the Deity. For, as the cause ought only to be proportioned to the effect, and the
effect, so far as it falls under our cognisance, is not infinite; what pretensions have we, upon your
suppositions, to ascribe that attribute to the Divine Being? You will still insist, that, by removing
him so much from all similarity to human creatures, we give in to the most arbitrary hypothesis,
and at the same time weaken all proofs of his existence.
Secondly, You have no reason, on your theory, for ascribing perfection to the Deity, even in his
finite capacity, or for supposing him free from every error, mistake, or incoherence, in his
undertakings. There are many inexplicable difficulties in the works of Nature, which, if we allow
a perfect author to be proved a priori, are easily solved, and become only seeming difficulties,
from the narrow capacity of man, who cannot trace infinite relations. But according to your
method of reasoning, these difficulties become all real; and perhaps will be insisted on, as new
instances of likeness to human art and contrivance. At least, you must acknowledge, that it is
impossible for us to tell, from our limited views, whether this system contains any great faults, or
deserves any considerable praise, if compared to other possible, and even real systems. Could a
peasant, if the Aeneid were read to him, pronounce that poem to be absolutely faultless, or even
assign to it its proper rank among the productions of human wit, he, who had never seen any
other production?
But were this world ever so perfect a production, it must still remain uncertain, whether all the
excellences of the work can justly be ascribed to the workman. If we survey a ship, what an
exalted idea must we form of the ingenuity of the carpenter who framed so complicated, useful,
and beautiful a machine? And what surprise must we feel, when we find him a stupid mechanic,
who imitated others, and copied an art, which, through a long succession of ages, after multiplied
trials, mistakes, corrections, deliberations, and controversies, had been gradually improving?
Many worlds might have been botched and bungled, throughout an eternity, ere this system was
struck out; much labour lost, many fruitless trials made; and a slow, but continued improvement
carried on during infinite ages in the art of world-making. In such subjects, who can determine,
where the truth; nay, who can conjecture where the probability lies, amidst a great number of
hypotheses which may be proposed, and a still greater which may be imagined?
And what shadow of an argument, continued PHILO, can you produce, from your
hypothesis, to prove the unity of the Deity? A great number of men join in building a house or
ship, in rearing a city, in framing a commonwealth; why may not several deities combine in
contriving and framing a world? This is only so much greater similarity to human affairs. By
sharing the work among several, we may so much further limit the attributes of each, and get rid
of that extensive power and knowledge, which must be supposed in one deity, and which,
according to you, can only serve to weaken the proof of his existence. And if such foolish, such
vicious creatures as man, can yet often unite in framing and executing one plan, how much more
those deities or demons, whom we may suppose several degrees more perfect!
To multiply causes without necessity, is indeed contrary to true philosophy: but this principle
applies not to the present case. Were one deity antecedently proved by your theory, who were
possessed of every attribute requisite to the production of the universe; it would be needless, I
own, (though not absurd,) to suppose any other deity existent. But while it is still a question,
Whether all these attributes are united in one subject, or dispersed among several independent
beings, by what phenomena in nature can we pretend to decide the controversy? Where we see a
body raised in a scale, we are sure that there is in the opposite scale, however concealed from
sight, some counterpoising weight equal to it; but it is still allowed to doubt, whether that weight
be an aggregate of several distinct bodies, or one uniform united mass. And if the weight
requisite very much exceeds any thing which we have ever seen conjoined in any single body,
the former supposition becomes still more probable and natural. An intelligent being of such vast
power and capacity as is necessary to produce the universe, or, to speak in the language of
ancient philosophy, so prodigious an animal exceeds all analogy, and even comprehension.
But further, CLEANTHES: men are mortal, and renew their species by generation; and this is
common to all living creatures. The two great sexes of male and female, says MILTON,
animate the world. Why must this circumstance, so universal, so essential, be excluded from
those numerous and limited deities? Behold, then, the theogony of ancient times brought back
upon us.
And why not become a perfect Anthropomorphite? Why not assert the deity or deities to be
corporeal, and to have eyes, a nose, mouth, ears, &c.? EPICURUS maintained, that no man had
ever seen reason but in a human figure; therefore the gods must have a human figure. And this
argument, which is deservedly so much ridiculed by CICERO, becomes, according to you, solid
and philosophical.
In a word, CLEANTHES, a man who follows your hypothesis is able perhaps to assert, or
conjecture, that the universe, sometime, arose from something like design: but beyond that
position he cannot ascertain one single circumstance; and is left afterwards to fix every point of
his theology by the utmost license of fancy and hypothesis. This world, for aught he knows, is
very faulty and imperfect, compared to a superior standard; and was only the first rude essay of
some infant deity, who afterwards abandoned it, ashamed of his lame performance: it is the work
only of some dependent, inferior deity; and is the object of derision to his superiors: it is the
production of old age and dotage in some superannuated deity; and ever since his death, has run
on at adventures, from the first impulse and active force which it received from him. You justly
give signs of horror, DEMEA, at these strange suppositions; but these, and a thousand more of
the same kind, are CLEANTHES's suppositions, not mine. From the moment the attributes of
the Deity are supposed finite, all these have place. And I cannot, for my part, think that so wild
and unsettled a system of theology is, in any respect, preferable to none at all.
These suppositions I absolutely disown, cried CLEANTHES: they strike me, however, with no
horror, especially when proposed in that rambling way in which they drop from you. On the
contrary, they give me pleasure, when I see, that, by the utmost indulgence of your imagination,
you never get rid of the hypothesis of design in the universe, but are obliged at every turn to have
recourse to it. To this concession I adhere steadily; and this I regard as a sufficient foundation for
religion.
It must be a slight fabric, indeed, said DEMEA, which can be erected on so tottering a
foundation. While we are uncertain whether there is one deity or many; whether the deity or
deities, to whom we owe our existence, be perfect or imperfect, subordinate or supreme, dead or
alive, what trust or confidence can we repose in them? What devotion or worship address to
them? What veneration or obedience pay them? To all the purposes of life the theory of religion
becomes altogether useless: and even with regard to speculative consequences, its uncertainty,
according to you, must render it totally precarious and unsatisfactory.
To render it still more unsatisfactory, said PHILO, there occurs to me another hypothesis,
which must acquire an air of probability from the method of reasoning so much insisted on by
CLEANTHES. That like effects arise from like causes: this principle he supposes the foundation
of all religion. But there is another principle of the same kind, no less certain, and derived from
the same source of experience; that where several known circumstances are observed to be
similar, the unknown will also be found similar. Thus, if we see the limbs of a human body, we
conclude that it is also attended with a human head, though hid from us. Thus, if we see, through
a chink in a wall, a small part of the sun, we conclude, that, were the wall removed, we should
see the whole body. In short, this method of reasoning is so obvious and familiar, that no scruple
can ever be made with regard to its solidity.
Now, if we survey the universe, so far as it falls under our knowledge, it bears a great
resemblance to an animal or organised body, and seems actuated with a like principle of life and
motion. A continual circulation of matter in it produces no disorder: a continual waste in every
part is incessantly repaired: the closest sympathy is perceived throughout the entire system: and
each part or member, in performing its proper offices, operates both to its own preservation and
to that of the whole. The world, therefore, I infer, is an animal; and the Deity is the SOUL of the
world, actuating it, and actuated by it.
You have too much learning, CLEANTHES, to be at all surprised at this opinion, which, you
know, was maintained by almost all the Theists of antiquity, and chiefly prevails in their
discourses and reasonings. For though, sometimes, the ancient philosophers reason from final
causes, as if they thought the world the workmanship of God; yet it appears rather their favourite
notion to consider it as his body, whose organisation renders it subservient to him. And it must
be confessed, that, as the universe resembles more a human body than it does the works of
human art and contrivance, if our limited analogy could ever, with any propriety, be extended to
the whole of nature, the inference seems juster in favour of the ancient than the modern theory.
There are many other advantages, too, in the former theory, which recommended it to the
ancient theologians. Nothing more repugnant to all their notions, because nothing more
repugnant to common experience, than mind without body; a mere spiritual substance, which fell
not under their senses nor comprehension, and of which they had not observed one single
instance throughout all nature. Mind and body they knew, because they felt both: an order,
arrangement, organisation, or internal machinery, in both, they likewise knew, after the same
manner: and it could not but seem reasonable to transfer this experience to the universe; and to
suppose the divine mind and body to be also coeval, and to have, both of them, order and
arrangement naturally inherent in them, and inseparable from them.
Here, therefore, is a new species of Anthropomorphism, CLEANTHES, on which you may
deliberate; and a theory which seems not liable to any considerable difficulties. You are too
much superior, surely, to systematical prejudices, to find any more difficulty in supposing an
animal body to be, originally, of itself, or from unknown causes, possessed of order and
organisation, than in supposing a similar order to belong to mind. But the vulgar prejudice, that
body and mind ought always to accompany each other, ought not, one should think, to be entirely
neglected; since it is founded on vulgar experience, the only guide which you profess to follow
in all these theological inquiries. And if you assert, that our limited experience is an unequal
standard, by which to judge of the unlimited extent of nature; you entirely abandon your own
hypothesis, and must thenceforward adopt our Mysticism, as you call it, and admit of the
absolute incomprehensibility of the Divine Nature.
This theory, I own, replied CLEANTHES, has never before occurred to me, though a pretty
natural one; and I cannot readily, upon so short an examination and reflection, deliver any
opinion with regard to it. You are very scrupulous, indeed, said PHILO: were I to examine any
system of yours, I should not have acted with half that caution and reserve, in starting objections
and difficulties to it. However, if any thing occur to you, you will oblige us by proposing it.
Why then, replied CLEANTHES, it seems to me, that, though the world does, in many
circumstances, resemble an animal body; yet is the analogy also defective in many circumstances
the most material: no organs of sense; no seat of thought or reason; no one precise origin of
motion and action. In short, it seems to bear a stronger resemblance to a vegetable than to an
animal, and your inference would be so far inconclusive in favour of the soul of the world.
But, in the next place, your theory seems to imply the eternity of the world; and that is a
principle, which, I think, can be refuted by the strongest reasons and probabilities. I shall suggest
an argument to this purpose, which, I believe, has not been insisted on by any writer. Those, who
reason from the late origin of arts and sciences, though their inference wants not force, may
perhaps be refuted by considerations derived from the nature of human society, which is in
continual revolution, between ignorance and knowledge, liberty and slavery, riches and poverty;
so that it is impossible for us, from our limited experience, to foretell with assurance what events
may or may not be expected. Ancient learning and history seem to have been in great danger of
entirely perishing after the inundation of the barbarous nations; and had these convulsions
continued a little longer, or been a little more violent, we should not probably have now known
what passed in the world a few centuries before us. Nay, were it not for the superstition of the
Popes, who preserved a little jargon of Latin, in order to support the appearance of an ancient and
universal church, that tongue must have been utterly lost; in which case, the Western world,
being totally barbarous, would not have been in a fit disposition for receiving the GREEK
language and learning, which was conveyed to them after the sacking of CONSTANTINOPLE.
When learning and books had been extinguished, even the mechanical arts would have fallen
considerably to decay; and it is easily imagined, that fable or tradition might ascribe to them a
much later origin than the true one. This vulgar argument, therefore, against the eternity of the
world, seems a little precarious.
But here appears to be the foundation of a better argument. LUCULLUS was the first that
brought cherry-trees from ASIA to EUROPE; though that tree thrives so well in many
EUROPEAN climates, that it grows in the woods without any culture. Is it possible, that
throughout a whole eternity, no EUROPEAN had ever passed into ASIA, and thought of
transplanting so delicious a fruit into his own country? Or if the tree was once transplanted and
propagated, how could it ever afterwards perish? Empires may rise and fall, liberty and slavery
succeed alternately, ignorance and knowledge give place to each other; but the cherry-tree will
still remain in the woods of GREECE, SPAIN, and ITALY, and will never be affected by the
revolutions of human society.
It is not two thousand years since vines were transplanted into FRANCE, though there is no
climate in the world more favourable to them. It is not three centuries since horses, cows, sheep,
swine, dogs, corn, were known in AMERICA. Is it possible, that during the revolutions of a
whole eternity, there never arose a COLUMBUS, who might open the communication between
EUROPE and that continent? We may as well imagine, that all men would wear stockings for
ten thousand years, and never have the sense to think of garters to tie them. All these seem
convincing proofs of the youth, or rather infancy, of the world; as being founded on the operation
of principles more constant and steady than those by which human society is governed and
directed. Nothing less than a total convulsion of the elements will ever destroy all the
EUROPEAN animals and vegetables which are now to be found in the Western world.
And what argument have you against such convulsions? replied PHILO. Strong and almost
incontestable proofs may be traced over the whole earth, that every part of this globe has
continued for many ages entirely covered with water. And though order were supposed
inseparable from matter, and inherent in it; yet may matter be susceptible of many and great
revolutions, through the endless periods of eternal duration. The incessant changes, to which
every part of it is subject, seem to intimate some such general transformations; though, at the
same time, it is observable, that all the changes and corruptions of which we have ever had
experience, are but passages from one state of order to another; nor can matter ever rest in total
deformity and confusion. What we see in the parts, we may infer in the whole; at least, that is the
method of reasoning on which you rest your whole theory. And were I obliged to defend any
particular system of this nature, which I never willingly should do, I esteem none more plausible
than that which ascribes an eternal inherent principle of order to the world, though attended with
great and continual revolutions and alterations. This at once solves all difficulties; and if the
solution, by being so general, is not entirely complete and satisfactory, it is at least a theory that
we must sooner or later have recourse to, whatever system we embrace. How could things have
been as they are, were there not an original inherent principle of order somewhere, in thought or
in matter? And it is very indifferent to which of these we give the preference. Chance has no
place, on any hypothesis, sceptical or religious. Every thing is surely governed by steady,
inviolable laws. And were the inmost essence of things laid open to us, we should then discover a
scene, of which, at present, we can have no idea. Instead of admiring the order of natural beings,
we should clearly see that it was absolutely impossible for them, in the smallest article, ever to
admit of any other disposition.
Were any one inclined to revive the ancient Pagan Theology, which maintained, as we learn
from HESIOD, that this globe was governed by 30,000 deities, who arose from the unknown
powers of nature: you would naturally object, CLEANTHES, that nothing is gained by this
hypothesis; and that it is as easy to suppose all men animals, beings more numerous, but less
perfect, to have sprung immediately from a like origin. Push the same inference a step further,
and you will find a numerous society of deities as explicable as one universal deity, who
possesses within himself the powers and perfections of the whole society. All these systems,
then, of Scepticism, Polytheism, and Theism, you must allow, on your principles, to be on a like
footing, and that no one of them has any advantage over the others. You may thence learn the
fallacy of your principles.
Return to the syllabus.
Return to the History Department.