Part 4
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.
It seems strange to me, said CLEANTHES, that you, DEMEA, who are so sincerely devoted to religion, still take this view. You maintain that the Deity is mysterious and incomprehensible. And you insist so strongly that he has no likeness or resemblance at all to human beings. I readily admit that the Deity has many powers and qualities we cannot understand. But suppose our ideas about him, as far as they go, are not accurate, adequate, or true to his nature. Then I do not know what there is in this subject worth arguing about. Is a name without any meaning really so important? You mystics maintain that the Deity is entirely beyond understanding. How, then, do you differ from Sceptics or Atheists? They claim that the first cause of everything is unknown and impossible to understand. Their boldness must be very great if they reject creation by a mind, yet claim certainty about another specific, understandable cause. I mean a mind resembling the human mind, since I know of no other kind. And their consciences must be very scrupulous indeed if they refuse to call the unknown cause of everything God or Deity. They must be equally scrupulous if they refuse to lavish on him as much lofty praise and as many meaningless titles as you demand.
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.
Who could imagine, replied DEMEA, that CLEANTHES, the calm, philosophical CLEANTHES, would try to refute his opponents by giving them a nickname? That he would turn to insults and heated speeches instead of reasoning, like the ordinary bigots and inquisitors of our age? Or does he not see how easily these attacks can be turned against him? The label Anthropomorphite is just as insulting, and carries consequences just as dangerous, as Mystic, the title he has honored us with. Really, CLEANTHES, consider what you are claiming when you describe the Deity as similar to a human mind and understanding. What is the human soul? A collection of different faculties, passions, sentiments, and ideas. These are united into one self or person, but they remain distinct from one another. When the soul reasons, the ideas that make up its train of thought fall into a particular pattern or order. But that pattern does not remain unchanged for even a moment. It immediately gives way to another arrangement. New opinions, new passions, new affections, and new feelings arise. They continually change the mental scene, producing the greatest variety and most rapid succession imaginable. How can this fit with the perfect unchangeability and absence of separate parts that all true Theists attribute to the Deity? In a single act, they say, he sees the past, present, and future. His love and hatred, his mercy and justice, are one single operation. He is wholly present at every point in space, and complete at every moment in time. There is no succession, no change, no gain, no loss. His being contains not the slightest trace of distinction or diversity. And what he is now, he has always been and always will be, without any new judgment, sentiment, or action. He remains fixed in one simple, perfect state. Nor can you ever properly say that one act of his differs from another. Nor can you say that he has recently formed a judgment or idea that will later give way to another.
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.
I readily agree, said CLEANTHES, that those who defend the Supreme Being’s perfect simplicity, as you have explained it, are complete Mystics. Their view carries all the consequences I have drawn from it. In short, they are Atheists without knowing it. For although we may admit that the Deity has attributes we cannot understand, we must never attribute certain qualities to him. These are qualities wholly incompatible with the intelligent nature essential to him. Consider a mind whose actions, feelings, and ideas are neither distinct nor successive. Such a mind is entirely simple and completely unchanging. It has no thought, no reason, no will, no feeling, no love, and no hatred. In short, it is no mind at all. Calling it a mind misuses the word. We might just as well speak of a limited stretch of space without shape, or a number without constituent parts.
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?
Please consider, said PHILO, whom you are attacking here. You are honoring almost all the sound, orthodox theologians who have addressed this subject with the title of Atheist. And by your own reckoning, you will eventually turn out to be the only sound Theist in the world. But what if idolaters are Atheists, as I think we may rightly say, and Christian theologians are Atheists too? What then becomes of the much-celebrated argument based on the universal agreement of humanity?
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.
But I know that names and authorities do not sway you much. So I will try to explain more clearly the problems with the Anthropomorphism you have embraced. I will prove that there is no basis for supposing that God forms a plan of the world in his mind. Such a plan would consist of distinct ideas arranged in different ways. God would form the plan just as an architect mentally plans a house he intends to build.
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.
I admit, it is hard to see what this assumption gains us, whether we judge by reason or experience. We still have to go further back to find the cause of the cause you offered 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.
By reason, I mean abstract reason based on a priori inquiry, independent of experience. If reason is not silent on all questions of cause and effect, it will at least venture this judgment. A mental world, or universe of ideas, needs a cause just as much as a material world, or universe of objects. And if the two worlds are similarly arranged, they must require similar causes. For what about this subject could justify a different conclusion or inference? Viewed abstractly, the two worlds are entirely alike. And any difficulty with supposing one exists applies equally to the other.
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.
Again, suppose we insist on forcing experience to pass judgment even on subjects beyond its reach. Even then, experience can find no significant difference in this respect between these two kinds of worlds. Instead, experience finds both governed by similar principles and depending on an equal variety of causes for their operations. We have small-scale examples of both kinds. Our own mind resembles one kind, and a plant or animal body resembles the other. Let experience judge, then, from these examples. Nothing seems more sensitive to its causes than thought. These causes never work in exactly the same way in two people, so no two people think exactly alike. Nor does the same person think exactly alike at any two different times. Differences in age, bodily condition, weather, food, company, books, or emotions can each alter the intricate machinery of thought. Even smaller differences can do the same, making that machinery move and work in very different ways. As far as we can judge, plant and animal bodies are no more sensitive in their movements than thought. Nor do those bodies depend on more varied causes or a more intricate arrangement of mechanisms 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.
How, then, can we satisfy ourselves about the cause of the Being you suppose to be the Author of Nature? Or, according to your system of Anthropomorphism, what causes the world of ideas from which you derive the material world? Have we not the same reason to trace that world of ideas to another world of ideas, or another intelligence? But if we stop there and go no further, why go so far? Why not stop at the material world? How can we satisfy ourselves without going on forever? And after all, what satisfaction does that endless progression offer? Let us remember the story of the Indian philosopher and his elephant. That story has never been more relevant than it is here. If the material world rests on a similar world of ideas, that world of ideas must rest on another. And so on, without end. It would therefore be better never to look beyond the material world before us. If we suppose the material world contains the source of its own order, we are really declaring it to be God. And the sooner we reach that Divine Being, the better. When you take one step beyond the material universe, you only stir up a curiosity that can never be satisfied.
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?
Suppose we say that the ideas making up the Supreme Being’s reason arrange themselves by their very nature. We are really saying nothing with any clear meaning. If that claim does mean something, I would like to know why the same claim makes any less sense about the material world. Why not say that the parts of the material world arrange themselves by their very nature? Can one view make sense while the other does not?
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.
We do, indeed, experience ideas that arrange themselves into order without any known cause. But I am sure we have far more experience of matter doing the same. We see this in all cases of reproduction and plant growth, whose causes defy precise analysis by any human mind. We also experience particular systems of thought and matter that lack order. Thought lacks order in madness, and matter in decay. Why, then, should we think order is more essential to thought than to matter? And if order requires a cause in both, what do we gain from your system? You trace the universe of objects back to a similar universe of ideas. The very first step leads us onward forever. It would therefore be wise to limit all our inquiries to the present world, without looking beyond it. We can never find satisfaction in these speculations, which reach so far beyond the narrow limits 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 senna 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.
As you know, CLEANTHES, the PERIPATETICS usually explained natural phenomena by appealing to special powers or hidden qualities. They said, for example, that bread nourished through its nourishing power, and senna purged through its purging power. But this evasion has been exposed as nothing more than a disguise for ignorance. These philosophers were less honest, but really said the same thing as sceptics or ordinary people. Those people openly admitted that they did not know what caused these phenomena. Similarly, suppose we ask what causes order in the ideas of the Supreme Being. Can you Anthropomorphites offer any explanation beyond saying that he has a rational faculty and that this is his nature? But why would a similar answer not explain the world's order just as satisfactorily, without the intelligent creator you insist on? That may be difficult to determine. We need only say that material objects have this nature. All material objects, from the beginning, possess a capacity for order and proportion. These are merely more learned and elaborate ways of admitting our ignorance. Neither hypothesis has any real advantage over the other, except that the creator hypothesis fits common prejudices better.
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.
You have presented this argument with great force, replied CLEANTHES. You seem unaware of how easy the argument is to answer. Even in everyday life, suppose I identify the cause of an event. Is my explanation open to objection, PHILO, because I cannot identify that cause’s cause? Must I answer every new question that may endlessly arise? And what philosophers could possibly accept such a strict rule? Philosophers admit that ultimate causes are entirely unknown. They know that even the most sophisticated principles they use to explain phenomena remain inexplicable to them. Those principles are as mysterious to philosophers as the phenomena themselves are to ordinary people. The order and arrangement of nature, the intricate fitting of means to ends, speak unmistakably of an intelligent cause or author. So do the clear use and purpose of every part and organ. The heavens and the earth bear the same witness. The whole chorus of Nature raises a hymn in praise of its Creator. You alone, or almost alone, disturb this universal harmony. You raise obscure doubts, petty criticisms, and objections. You ask me what causes this cause. I do not know. I do not care. That question does not concern me. I have found a Deity, and here I end my inquiry. Let those who are wiser or more adventurous go further.
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.
I claim to be neither, replied PHILO. And for that very reason, perhaps I would never have tried to go so far. Especially since I know I must finally settle for the same answer that could have satisfied me from the start. If I must remain completely ignorant of causes and can explain absolutely nothing, I gain nothing by briefly postponing a difficulty. You admit that the difficulty must immediately return with its full force. Scientists rightly explain particular effects through more general causes, even though those general causes may ultimately remain completely unexplained. But surely scientists never considered it satisfactory to explain a particular effect through a particular cause equally in need of explanation. A system of ideas that arranges itself without any prior design is no more explicable than a material system that does the same. Nor is there any greater difficulty in supposing that a material system orders itself than that a system of ideas does.