Part 7

But here, continued PHILO, in examining the ancient system of the soul of the world, there strikes me, all on a sudden, a new idea, which, if just, must go near to subvert all your reasoning, and destroy even your first inferences, on which you repose such confidence. If the universe bears a greater likeness to animal bodies and to vegetables, than to the works of human art, it is more probable that its cause resembles the cause of the former than that of the latter, and its origin ought rather to be ascribed to generation or vegetation, than to reason or design. Your conclusion, even according to your own principles, is therefore lame and defective.

But here, continued PHILO, as I examine the ancient theory of the soul of the world, a new idea suddenly strikes me. If correct, this idea must come close to overturning all your reasoning. It must also destroy even your initial conclusions, in which you place such confidence. If the universe resembles animal bodies and plants more than things made by humans, its cause probably follows the same pattern. Its cause is more likely to resemble the cause of animals and plants than the cause of human creations. So the universe’s origin should be attributed to reproduction or plant growth rather than reason or design. Your conclusion, even by your own principles, is therefore flawed and incomplete.

Pray open up this argument a little further, said DEMEA, for I do not rightly apprehend it in that concise manner in which you have expressed it.

Please explain this argument a little more, said DEMEA, because I don’t quite understand your brief explanation.

Our friend CLEANTHES, replied PHILO, as you have heard, asserts, that since no question of fact can be proved otherwise than by experience, the existence of a Deity admits not of proof from any other medium. The world, says he, resembles the works of human contrivance; therefore its cause must also resemble that of the other. Here we may remark, that the operation of one very small part of nature, to wit man, upon another very small part, to wit that inanimate matter lying within his reach, is the rule by which CLEANTHES judges of the origin of the whole; and he measures objects, so widely disproportioned, by the same individual standard. But to waive all objections drawn from this topic, I affirm, that there are other parts of the universe (besides the machines of human invention) which bear still a greater resemblance to the fabric of the world, and which, therefore, afford a better conjecture concerning the universal origin of this system. These parts are animals and vegetables. The world plainly resembles more an animal or a vegetable, than it does a watch or a knitting-loom. Its cause, therefore, it is more probable, resembles the cause of the former. The cause of the former is generation or vegetation. The cause, therefore, of the world, we may infer to be something similar or analogous to generation or vegetation.

Our friend CLEANTHES, replied PHILO, argues, as you have heard, that no question of fact can be proved except through experience. So the existence of a Deity cannot be proved by any other means. The world, he says, resembles things designed by humans. Therefore, the world's cause must also resemble the cause of those things. Here we may note how CLEANTHES judges the origin of the whole of nature. He uses the actions of one very small part of nature, namely humans, on another very small part as his standard. That other part is the lifeless matter within human reach. He measures things of vastly different scales by exactly the same standard. But let us set aside all objections of this kind. I maintain that other parts of the universe resemble the world's structure even more closely than human-made machines do. These parts therefore offer a better basis for guessing the origin of the universe as a whole. These parts are animals and plants. The world plainly resembles an animal or a plant more than a watch or a knitting loom. So the world's cause is more likely to resemble the cause of animals or plants. Animals arise through reproduction, and plants through plant growth. We may therefore infer that the world's cause is something similar or analogous to reproduction or plant growth.

But how is it conceivable, said DEMEA, that the world can arise from any thing similar to vegetation or generation?

But how, said DEMEA, could the world arise from anything like plant growth or reproduction?

Very easily, replied PHILO. In like manner as a tree sheds its seed into the neighbouring fields, and produces other trees; so the great vegetable, the world, or this planetary system, produces within itself certain seeds, which, being scattered into the surrounding chaos, vegetate into new worlds. A comet, for instance, is the seed of a world; and after it has been fully ripened, by passing from sun to sun, and star to star, it is at last tossed into the unformed elements which every where surround this universe, and immediately sprouts up into a new system.

Very easily, replied PHILO. A tree scatters its seeds into nearby fields and produces other trees. In the same way, the world, or this planetary system, is a great plant that produces certain seeds within itself. When scattered into the surrounding chaos, these seeds grow into new worlds. A comet, for instance, is the seed of a world. The comet fully ripens as it passes from sun to sun and star to star. Then it is finally thrown into the unformed elements that surround this universe on every side. There, the comet immediately sprouts into a new system.

Or if, for the sake of variety (for I see no other advantage), we should suppose this world to be an animal; a comet is the egg of this animal: and in like manner as an ostrich lays its egg in the sand, which, without any further care, hatches the egg, and produces a new animal; so...

Or suppose, for variety’s sake, that this world is an animal. I see no other advantage in the idea. In that case, a comet would be the animal’s egg. An ostrich lays its egg in the sand. Without any further care, the sand hatches the egg and produces a new animal. So, in just the same way...

I understand you, says DEMEA: But what wild, arbitrary suppositions are these! What data have you for such extraordinary conclusions? And is the slight, imaginary resemblance of the world to a vegetable or an animal sufficient to establish the same inference with regard to both? Objects, which are in general so widely different, ought they to be a standard for each other?

I understand you, says DEMEA: But what wild, arbitrary assumptions these are! What evidence do you have for such extraordinary conclusions? Is the world's slight, imagined resemblance to a plant or animal enough to justify the same conclusion about both? Should things that are generally so different serve as standards for one another?

Right, cries PHILO: This is the topic on which I have all along insisted. I have still asserted, that we have no data to establish any system of cosmogony. Our experience, so imperfect in itself, and so limited both in extent and duration, can afford us no probable conjecture concerning the whole of things. But if we must needs fix on some hypothesis; by what rule, pray, ought we to determine our choice? Is there any other rule than the greater similarity of the objects compared? And does not a plant or an animal, which springs from vegetation or generation, bear a stronger resemblance to the world, than does any artificial machine, which arises from reason and design?

Exactly, cries PHILO: This is the point I have insisted on all along. I have always maintained that we have no evidence to establish any theory of the universe’s origin. Our experience is imperfect in itself, and its scope and duration are very limited. Such experience cannot support any probable guess about the universe as a whole. But if we must settle on some hypothesis, what rule, please, should guide our choice? Is there any rule other than choosing the closest resemblance between the things compared? And doesn’t a plant or animal, arising through growth or reproduction, resemble the world more closely than any human-made machine? Such a machine arises from reason and design.

But what is this vegetation and generation of which you talk? said DEMEA. Can you explain their operations, and anatomise that fine internal structure on which they depend?

But what are this growth and reproduction you talk about? said DEMEA. Can you explain how these processes work and analyze the delicate internal structure they depend on?

As much, at least, replied PHILO, as CLEANTHES can explain the operations of reason, or anatomise that internal structure on which it depends. But without any such elaborate disquisitions, when I see an animal, I infer, that it sprang from generation; and that with as great certainty as you conclude a house to have been reared by design. These words, generation, reason, mark only certain powers and energies in nature, whose effects are known, but whose essence is incomprehensible; and one of these principles, more than the other, has no privilege for being made a standard to the whole of nature.

At least as much, replied PHILO, as CLEANTHES can explain how reason works or analyze the internal structure reason depends on. But no such detailed investigation is needed. When I see an animal, I infer that the animal came from reproduction. I am as certain of this as you are that a house was built by design. The words reproduction and reason name only certain powers and forces in nature. We know their effects, but their essential nature is beyond our understanding. Neither principle has any greater right than the other to serve as a standard for all of nature.

In reality, DEMEA, it may reasonably be expected, that the larger the views are which we take of things, the better will they conduct us in our conclusions concerning such extraordinary and such magnificent subjects. In this little corner of the world alone, there are four principles, reason, instinct, generation, vegetation, which are similar to each other, and are the causes of similar effects. What a number of other principles may we naturally suppose in the immense extent and variety of the universe, could we travel from planet to planet, and from system to system, in order to examine each part of this mighty fabric? Any one of these four principles above mentioned, (and a hundred others which lie open to our conjecture,) may afford us a theory by which to judge of the origin of the world; and it is a palpable and egregious partiality to confine our view entirely to that principle by which our own minds operate. Were this principle more intelligible on that account, such a partiality might be somewhat excusable: But reason, in its internal fabric and structure, is really as little known to us as instinct or vegetation; and, perhaps, even that vague, indeterminate word, Nature, to which the vulgar refer every thing, is not at the bottom more inexplicable. The effects of these principles are all known to us from experience; but the principles themselves, and their manner of operation, are totally unknown; nor is it less intelligible, or less conformable to experience, to say, that the world arose by vegetation, from a seed shed by another world, than to say that it arose from a divine reason or contrivance, according to the sense in which CLEANTHES understands it.

In fact, DEMEA, we can reasonably expect broader views of things to guide us toward better conclusions about such extraordinary and magnificent subjects. Even in this little corner of the world, there are four principles: reason, instinct, reproduction, and plant growth. These principles resemble one another and produce similar effects. How many other principles might we naturally suppose exist throughout the universe, with its immense size and variety? Suppose we could travel from planet to planet and system to system to examine every part of this vast structure. Any one of these four principles might offer a theory for judging how the world began. So might a hundred other principles we can imagine. To focus entirely on the principle by which our own minds work is an obvious and extreme bias. If that principle were easier to understand because our minds use it, such bias might be somewhat excusable. But we really know as little about reason's inner workings and structure as we do about instinct or plant growth. Perhaps even the vague, undefined word Nature, which ordinary people use to explain everything, is ultimately no harder to explain. We know the effects of all these principles from experience. But we know nothing at all about the principles themselves or how they work. Saying the world grew like a plant, from a seed shed by another world, is no less understandable or consistent with experience. It is just as understandable and consistent with experience as saying the world arose from divine reason or design, as CLEANTHES understands it.

But methinks, said DEMEA, if the world had a vegetative quality, and could sow the seeds of new worlds into the infinite chaos, this power would be still an additional argument for design in its author. For whence could arise so wonderful a faculty but from design? Or how can order spring from any thing which perceives not that order which it bestows?

But I think, said DEMEA, that if the world could reproduce like a plant and sow the seeds of new worlds into infinite chaos, this power would be further evidence of design in its creator. For how could such a remarkable ability arise except through design? Or how can order come from anything that does not perceive the order it creates?

You need only look around you, replied PHILO, to satisfy yourself with regard to this question. A tree bestows order and organisation on that tree which springs from it, without knowing the order; an animal in the same manner on its offspring; a bird on its nest; and instances of this kind are even more frequent in the world than those of order, which arise from reason and contrivance. To say, that all this order in animals and vegetables proceeds ultimately from design, is begging the question; nor can that great point be ascertained otherwise than by proving, a priori, both that order is, from its nature, inseparably attached to thought; and that it can never of itself, or from original unknown principles, belong to matter.

You only need to look around you, replied PHILO, to settle this question for yourself. A tree gives order and structure to the tree that grows from it, without understanding that order. An animal does the same for its offspring, and a bird for its nest. Such examples are even more common in the world than examples of order produced by reason and planning. To say that all this order in animals and plants ultimately comes from design assumes what needs to be proved. That central claim can only be established by proving two things a priori, without relying on experience. First, order must by its very nature be inseparable from thought. Second, matter can never possess order on its own or through unknown underlying principles.

But further, DEMEA; this objection which you urge can never be made use of by CLEANTHES, without renouncing a defence which he has already made against one of my objections. When I inquired concerning the cause of that supreme reason and intelligence into which he resolves every thing; he told me, that the impossibility of satisfying such inquiries could never be admitted as an objection in any species of philosophy. "We must stop somewhere", says he; "nor is it ever within the reach of human capacity to explain ultimate causes, or show the last connections of any objects. It is sufficient, if any steps, so far as we go, are supported by experience and observation." Now, that vegetation and generation, as well as reason, are experienced to be principles of order in nature, is undeniable. If I rest my system of cosmogony on the former, preferably to the latter, it is at my choice. The matter seems entirely arbitrary. And when CLEANTHES asks me what is the cause of my great vegetative or generative faculty, I am equally entitled to ask him the cause of his great reasoning principle. These questions we have agreed to forbear on both sides; and it is chiefly his interest on the present occasion to stick to this agreement. Judging by our limited and imperfect experience, generation has some privileges above reason: for we see every day the latter arise from the former, never the former from the latter.

But further, DEMEA, CLEANTHES can never use your objection without abandoning a defense he has already made against my objections. I asked him what caused the supreme reason and intelligence that he uses to explain everything. He told me that our inability to answer such questions could never count as an objection in any philosophy. "We must stop somewhere", he says. "Human abilities can never explain ultimate causes or show the final connections between things. It is enough if the steps we take, however far we go, are supported by experience and observation." Now, experience undeniably shows that plant growth and reproduction, like reason, are sources of order in nature. If I base my account of the universe’s origin on growth or reproduction rather than reason, the choice is mine. The choice seems entirely arbitrary. And when CLEANTHES asks what causes my great power of growth or reproduction, I have an equal right to reply. I can ask what causes his great reasoning principle. We have agreed on both sides not to ask these questions. And on this occasion, keeping that agreement is chiefly in his interest. Judging by our limited and imperfect experience, reproduction has some advantages over reason. For every day we see reason arise from reproduction, but never reproduction from reason.

Compare, I beseech you, the consequences on both sides. The world, say I, resembles an animal; therefore it is an animal, therefore it arose from generation. The steps, I confess, are wide; yet there is some small appearance of analogy in each step. The world, says CLEANTHES, resembles a machine; therefore it is a machine, therefore it arose from design. The steps are here equally wide, and the analogy less striking. And if he pretends to carry on my hypothesis a step further, and to infer design or reason from the great principle of generation, on which I insist; I may, with better authority, use the same freedom to push further his hypothesis, and infer a divine generation or theogony from his principle of reason. I have at least some faint shadow of experience, which is the utmost that can ever be attained in the present subject. Reason, in innumerable instances, is observed to arise from the principle of generation, and never to arise from any other principle.

Please compare the consequences on both sides. The world, I say, resembles an animal. Therefore, the world is an animal, and therefore it arose through reproduction. I admit these are large leaps. Yet each step shows some slight resemblance between the things compared. The world, says CLEANTHES, resembles a machine. Therefore, the world is a machine, and therefore it arose from design. These leaps are just as large, and the resemblance is less striking. Suppose CLEANTHES claims to take my hypothesis one step further. Suppose he infers design or reason from reproduction, the great principle I insist on. Then I may, with better grounds, take the same liberty with his hypothesis. From his principle of reason, I may infer divine reproduction, or theogony, the birth of gods. I have at least some faint support from experience. Such faint support is the most we can ever obtain on this subject. In countless cases, we observe reason arising through reproduction. We never observe reason arising from any other principle.

HESIOD, and all the ancient mythologists, were so struck with this analogy, that they universally explained the origin of nature from an animal birth, and copulation. PLATO too, so far as he is intelligible, seems to have adopted some such notion in his TIMAEUS.

HESIOD and all the ancient mythologists were so struck by this analogy that they all explained nature’s origin through animal reproduction, involving birth and mating. PLATO too, insofar as he can be understood, seems to have adopted some such idea in his TIMAEUS.

The BRAHMINS assert, that the world arose from an infinite spider, who spun this whole complicated mass from his bowels, and annihilates afterwards the whole or any part of it, by absorbing it again, and resolving it into his own essence. Here is a species of cosmogony, which appears to us ridiculous; because a spider is a little contemptible animal, whose operations we are never likely to take for a model of the whole universe. But still here is a new species of analogy, even in our globe. And were there a planet wholly inhabited by spiders, (which is very possible,) this inference would there appear as natural and irrefragable as that which in our planet ascribes the origin of all things to design and intelligence, as explained by CLEANTHES. Why an orderly system may not be spun from the belly as well as from the brain, it will be difficult for him to give a satisfactory reason.

The BRAHMINS claim that the world came from an infinite spider, who spun this whole complicated mass from his belly. Afterwards, he destroys the whole world or any part of it by absorbing it back into his own being. This account of the world's origin seems ridiculous to us because a spider is a small, contemptible animal. We are never likely to take a spider's activities as a model for the whole universe. But even on our own globe, this offers another kind of analogy. Suppose there were a planet inhabited entirely by spiders, which is very possible. On that planet, this conclusion would seem as natural and impossible to refute as our own planet's explanation. Our explanation attributes the origin of all things to design and intelligence, as CLEANTHES explains. He will find it difficult to give a satisfactory reason why an orderly system cannot be spun from the belly just as well as from the brain.

I must confess, PHILO, replied CLEANTHES, that of all men living, the task which you have undertaken, of raising doubts and objections, suits you best, and seems, in a manner, natural and unavoidable to you. So great is your fertility of invention, that I am not ashamed to acknowledge myself unable, on a sudden, to solve regularly such out-of-the-way difficulties as you incessantly start upon me: though I clearly see, in general, their fallacy and error. And I question not, but you are yourself, at present, in the same case, and have not the solution so ready as the objection: while you must be sensible, that common sense and reason are entirely against you; and that such whimsies as you have delivered, may puzzle, but never can convince us.

I must admit, PHILO, replied CLEANTHES, that no one alive is better suited to raising doubts and objections than you. For you, the task seems almost natural and unavoidable. You are so inventive that I am not ashamed to admit I cannot immediately give orderly answers to your unusual difficulties. You constantly put them to me, though I can clearly see, in general, how false and mistaken they are. And I have no doubt that you are now in the same position. You do not have the answer as ready as the objection. Yet you must recognize that common sense and reason are entirely against you. And such fanciful ideas as you have presented may puzzle us, but can never convince us.