Part 8

What you ascribe to the fertility of my invention, replied PHILO, is entirely owing to the nature of the subject. In subjects adapted to the narrow compass of human reason, there is commonly but one determination, which carries probability or conviction with it; and to a man of sound judgement, all other suppositions, but that one, appear entirely absurd and chimerical. But in such questions as the present, a hundred contradictory views may preserve a kind of imperfect analogy; and invention has here full scope to exert itself. Without any great effort of thought, I believe that I could, in an instant, propose other systems of cosmogony, which would have some faint appearance of truth, though it is a thousand, a million to one, if either yours or any one of mine be the true system.

What you credit to my inventive imagination, replied PHILO, comes entirely from the nature of the subject. On subjects within the narrow limits of human reason, usually only one conclusion seems probable or convincing. To a person with sound judgment, all other possibilities seem completely absurd and imaginary. But in questions like the present one, a hundred conflicting views may retain some imperfect resemblance to the truth. So imagination has full freedom here. Without much thought, I believe I could instantly propose other theories of how the universe began. These theories would have some faint appearance of truth. Yet the odds are a thousand, a million to one against either your theory or any of mine being true.

For instance, what if I should revive the old EPICUREAN hypothesis? This is commonly, and I believe justly, esteemed the most absurd system that has yet been proposed; yet I know not whether, with a few alterations, it might not be brought to bear a faint appearance of probability. Instead of supposing matter infinite, as EPICURUS did, let us suppose it finite. A finite number of particles is only susceptible of finite transpositions: and it must happen, in an eternal duration, that every possible order or position must be tried an infinite number of times. This world, therefore, with all its events, even the most minute, has before been produced and destroyed, and will again be produced and destroyed, without any bounds and limitations. No one, who has a conception of the powers of infinite, in comparison of finite, will ever scruple this determination.

For instance, what if I revived the old EPICUREAN hypothesis? People commonly consider it the most absurd system ever proposed, and I believe they are right. Yet I wonder whether a few changes might give it a faint appearance of probability. Instead of assuming that matter is infinite, as EPICURUS did, let us assume it is finite. A finite number of particles can be arranged in only a finite number of ways. So, over an eternity, every possible arrangement or position must occur an infinite number of times. Therefore, this world, with all its events, even the smallest, has been produced and destroyed before. And the world and all its events will be produced and destroyed again, without limit. Anyone who understands the power of the infinite compared with the finite will never doubt this conclusion.

But this supposes, said DEMEA, that matter can acquire motion, without any voluntary agent or first mover.

But this assumes, said DEMEA, that matter can start moving without any agent acting by choice or first mover.

And where is the difficulty, replied PHILO, of that supposition? Every event, before experience, is equally difficult and incomprehensible; and every event, after experience, is equally easy and intelligible. Motion, in many instances, from gravity, from elasticity, from electricity, begins in matter, without any known voluntary agent: and to suppose always, in these cases, an unknown voluntary agent, is mere hypothesis; and hypothesis attended with no advantages. The beginning of motion in matter itself is as conceivable a priori as its communication from mind and intelligence.

And what is difficult about that assumption, replied PHILO? Before experience, every event is equally difficult to understand and equally beyond our comprehension. After experience, every event is equally easy to understand and equally clear. In many cases, gravity, elasticity, and electricity set matter in motion without any known agent acting by choice. Always assuming an unknown agent acting by choice in these cases is merely a hypothesis. And that hypothesis offers no advantages. Before experience, motion beginning in matter itself is just as conceivable as motion being transmitted by mind and intelligence.

Besides, why may not motion have been propagated by impulse through all eternity, and the same stock of it, or nearly the same, be still upheld in the universe? As much is lost by the composition of motion, as much is gained by its resolution. And whatever the causes are, the fact is certain, that matter is, and always has been, in continual agitation, as far as human experience or tradition reaches. There is not probably, at present, in the whole universe, one particle of matter at absolute rest.

Besides, why couldn't motion have been passed on through impacts for all eternity? And why couldn't the same total amount of motion, or nearly the same, still be maintained in the universe? As much motion is lost when motions combine as is gained when they separate. And whatever the causes, one fact is certain: matter is, and always has been, in constant motion. This is true as far back as human experience or tradition reaches. Probably not a single particle of matter in the whole universe is completely at rest at present.

And this very consideration too, continued PHILO, which we have stumbled on in the course of the argument, suggests a new hypothesis of cosmogony, that is not absolutely absurd and improbable. Is there a system, an order, an economy of things, by which matter can preserve that perpetual agitation which seems essential to it, and yet maintain a constancy in the forms which it produces? There certainly is such an economy; for this is actually the case with the present world. The continual motion of matter, therefore, in less than infinite transpositions, must produce this economy or order; and by its very nature, that order, when once established, supports itself, for many ages, if not to eternity. But wherever matter is so poised, arranged, and adjusted, as to continue in perpetual motion, and yet preserve a constancy in the forms, its situation must, of necessity, have all the same appearance of art and contrivance which we observe at present. All the parts of each form must have a relation to each other, and to the whole; and the whole itself must have a relation to the other parts of the universe; to the element in which the form subsists; to the materials with which it repairs its waste and decay; and to every other form which is hostile or friendly. A defect in any of these particulars destroys the form; and the matter of which it is composed is again set loose, and is thrown into irregular motions and fermentations, till it unite itself to some other regular form. If no such form be prepared to receive it, and if there be a great quantity of this corrupted matter in the universe, the universe itself is entirely disordered; whether it be the feeble embryo of a world in its first beginnings that is thus destroyed, or the rotten carcass of one languishing in old age and infirmity. In either case, a chaos ensues; till finite, though innumerable revolutions produce at last some forms, whose parts and organs are so adjusted as to support the forms amidst a continued succession of matter.

This very point, continued PHILO, also suggests a new theory of how the universe began. We stumbled on this point during our argument, and the theory is not entirely absurd or improbable. Can matter be organized so that it keeps the constant motion that seems essential to it, yet produces stable forms? There certainly is such an arrangement, for that is exactly what happens in the present world. The constant motion of matter must therefore produce this arrangement or order in fewer than an infinite number of rearrangements. And by its very nature, once established, that order sustains itself for many ages, if not forever. But suppose matter is balanced, arranged, and adjusted to remain in constant motion while preserving stable forms. Such an arrangement must necessarily have all the same appearance of skill and design that we observe today. All the parts of each form must relate to one another and to the whole. And the whole itself must relate to the other parts of the universe. It must also relate to the environment in which it exists and the materials that replace its losses and decay. It must relate, too, to every other form, whether hostile or friendly. A defect in any of these relationships destroys the form. The matter composing that form is then released again into irregular movements and restless activity. This continues until the matter becomes part of some other orderly form. Suppose no such form is ready to receive this matter, and the universe contains a great quantity of this decaying matter. Then the universe itself is thrown into complete disorder. The world destroyed in this way might be a frail embryo, only just beginning to develop. Or it might be a rotten carcass, wasting away in old age and weakness. In either case, chaos follows. That chaos continues until countless, though finitely many, cycles of change finally produce some forms with suitably arranged parts and organs. Those parts and organs sustain the forms even as the matter composing them is continually replaced.

Suppose (for we shall endeavour to vary the expression), that matter were thrown into any position, by a blind, unguided force; it is evident that this first position must, in all probability, be the most confused and most disorderly imaginable, without any resemblance to those works of human contrivance, which, along with a symmetry of parts, discover an adjustment of means to ends, and a tendency to self-preservation. If the actuating force cease after this operation, matter must remain for ever in disorder, and continue an immense chaos, without any proportion or activity. But suppose that the actuating force, whatever it be, still continues in matter, this first position will immediately give place to a second, which will likewise in all probability be as disorderly as the first, and so on through many successions of changes and revolutions. No particular order or position ever continues a moment unaltered. The original force, still remaining in activity, gives a perpetual restlessness to matter. Every possible situation is produced, and instantly destroyed. If a glimpse or dawn of order appears for a moment, it is instantly hurried away, and confounded, by that never-ceasing force which actuates every part of matter.

Let us put the idea another way. Suppose matter were thrown into some arrangement by a blind, unguided force. Clearly, this first arrangement would, in all probability, be as confused and disorderly as imaginable. It would bear no resemblance to things designed by humans. Such things combine symmetry of parts with means suited to their ends and a tendency to preserve themselves. If the force driving matter stopped after this first operation, matter would remain in disorder forever. It would remain a vast chaos, without proportion or activity. But suppose the driving force, whatever it may be, continued to act within matter. The first arrangement would immediately give way to a second. This second arrangement would, in all probability, be just as disorderly as the first. The same would hold through many successive changes and transformations. No particular order or arrangement would remain unchanged for even a moment. The original force, still active, would keep matter constantly restless. Every possible arrangement would arise and instantly be destroyed. If a glimpse or beginning of order appeared for a moment, it would instantly be swept away and lost in confusion. The unceasing force acting on every part of matter would destroy that order.

Thus the universe goes on for many ages in a continued succession of chaos and disorder. But is it not possible that it may settle at last, so as not to lose its motion and active force (for that we have supposed inherent in it), yet so as to preserve an uniformity of appearance, amidst the continual motion and fluctuation of its parts? This we find to be the case with the universe at present. Every individual is perpetually changing, and every part of every individual; and yet the whole remains, in appearance, the same. May we not hope for such a position, or rather be assured of it, from the eternal revolutions of unguided matter; and may not this account for all the appearing wisdom and contrivance which is in the universe? Let us contemplate the subject a little, and we shall find, that this adjustment, if attained by matter of a seeming stability in the forms, with a real and perpetual revolution or motion of parts, affords a plausible, if not a true solution of the difficulty.

Thus the universe continues for many ages through an unbroken succession of chaos and disorder. But is it not possible that the universe may finally settle into a stable arrangement without losing its motion and energy? We have assumed that motion and energy belong inherently to the universe. Yet could the universe maintain a uniform appearance while its parts continually move and change? We find the universe in just this state at present. Every individual thing is constantly changing, as is every part of each thing. Yet the whole appears to stay the same. May we not hope for such an arrangement, or rather be assured of it, from the eternal movements of unguided matter? And may this arrangement not explain all the apparent wisdom and design in the universe? Let us consider the subject a little further. Suppose matter reaches this arrangement, with apparently stable forms but real and constant movement or change in its parts. We shall find that such an arrangement offers a plausible, if not a true, solution to the difficulty.

It is in vain, therefore, to insist upon the uses of the parts in animals or vegetables, and their curious adjustment to each other. I would fain know, how an animal could subsist, unless its parts were so adjusted? Do we not find, that it immediately perishes whenever this adjustment ceases, and that its matter corrupting tries some new form? It happens indeed, that the parts of the world are so well adjusted, that some regular form immediately lays claim to this corrupted matter: and if it were not so, could the world subsist? Must it not dissolve as well as the animal, and pass through new positions and situations, till in great, but finite succession, it falls at last into the present or some such order?

So it is pointless to stress the functions of parts in animals or plants, or how intricately those parts fit together. I would like to know how an animal could survive unless its parts fit together that way. Don’t we find that the animal dies immediately whenever that arrangement breaks down? And doesn’t its decaying matter try out some new form? The parts of the world do happen to fit together so well that some orderly form immediately claims this decaying matter. But if that were not so, could the world survive? Wouldn’t the world have to fall apart, just as the animal does, and pass through new arrangements and conditions? Wouldn’t that process continue through a long but finite sequence, until the world finally reached its present order or something similar?

It is well, replied CLEANTHES, you told us, that this hypothesis was suggested on a sudden, in the course of the argument. Had you had leisure to examine it, you would soon have perceived the insuperable objections to which it is exposed. No form, you say, can subsist, unless it possess those powers and organs requisite for its subsistence: some new order or economy must be tried, and so on, without intermission; till at last some order, which can support and maintain itself, is fallen upon. But according to this hypothesis, whence arise the many conveniences and advantages which men and all animals possess? Two eyes, two ears, are not absolutely necessary for the subsistence of the species. Human race might have been propagated and preserved, without horses, dogs, cows, sheep, and those innumerable fruits and products which serve to our satisfaction and enjoyment. If no camels had been created for the use of man in the sandy deserts of AFRICA and ARABIA, would the world have been dissolved? If no lodestone had been framed to give that wonderful and useful direction to the needle, would human society and the human kind have been immediately extinguished? Though the maxims of Nature be in general very frugal, yet instances of this kind are far from being rare; and any one of them is a sufficient proof of design, and of a benevolent design, which gave rise to the order and arrangement of the universe.

It is just as well, replied CLEANTHES, that you told us this hypothesis came to you suddenly during the argument. If you had taken time to examine it, you would soon have seen the objections it cannot overcome. You say no form can survive unless it has the powers and organs needed for survival. Some new order or arrangement must then be tried, and the process must continue without interruption. Eventually, an order is found that can support and maintain itself. But on this hypothesis, where do the many conveniences and advantages enjoyed by humans and all animals come from? Two eyes and two ears are not absolutely necessary for a species to survive. The human race could have reproduced and survived without horses, dogs, cows, or sheep. We could also have survived without the countless fruits and other products that give us satisfaction and pleasure. If no camels had been created for human use in the sandy deserts of AFRICA and ARABIA, would the world have fallen apart? If no lodestone had been formed to guide the compass needle so wonderfully and usefully, would human society and humanity have immediately died out? Although Nature generally works very economically, examples of this kind are far from rare. And any one of these examples is enough to prove that design produced the universe’s order and arrangement. It also proves that this design was benevolent.

At least, you may safely infer, said PHILO, that the foregoing hypothesis is so far incomplete and imperfect, which I shall not scruple to allow. But can we ever reasonably expect greater success in any attempts of this nature? Or can we ever hope to erect a system of cosmogony, that will be liable to no exceptions, and will contain no circumstance repugnant to our limited and imperfect experience of the analogy of Nature? Your theory itself cannot surely pretend to any such advantage, even though you have run into Anthropomorphism, the better to preserve a conformity to common experience. Let us once more put it to trial. In all instances which we have ever seen, ideas are copied from real objects, and are ectypal, not archetypal, to express myself in learned terms: You reverse this order, and give thought the precedence. In all instances which we have ever seen, thought has no influence upon matter, except where that matter is so conjoined with it as to have an equal reciprocal influence upon it. No animal can move immediately any thing but the members of its own body; and indeed, the equality of action and reaction seems to be an universal law of nature: But your theory implies a contradiction to this experience. These instances, with many more, which it were easy to collect, (particularly the supposition of a mind or system of thought that is eternal, or, in other words, an animal ingenerable and immortal); these instances, I say, may teach all of us sobriety in condemning each other, and let us see, that as no system of this kind ought ever to be received from a slight analogy, so neither ought any to be rejected on account of a small incongruity. For that is an inconvenience from which we can justly pronounce no one to be exempted.

At least you may safely conclude, said PHILO, that the previous hypothesis is incomplete and imperfect in these respects. I readily admit as much. But can we ever reasonably expect greater success in any attempt of this kind? Can we ever hope to build a theory of the universe’s origin that faces no objections? Could such a theory avoid every conflict with our limited, imperfect experience of patterns in Nature? Surely your own theory cannot claim any such advantage. You have even resorted to Anthropomorphism to bring your theory closer to ordinary experience. Let us test your theory once more. In every case we have ever observed, ideas are copies of real objects. To use scholarly terms, ideas are ectypal, not archetypal: copies, not originals. You reverse this order and put thought first. In every case we have ever observed, thought influences matter only when that matter also has an equal influence on thought. No animal can directly move anything except the parts of its own body. Indeed, equal action and reaction seem to be a universal law of nature. But your theory contradicts this experience. Many more examples of such conflicts could easily be gathered. One particular example is the assumption of an eternal mind or system of thought. In other words, you assume an animal that was never born and can never die. These examples, I say, may teach us all restraint in condemning one another. They may also show us that no theory of this kind should ever be accepted on the strength of a slight analogy. Nor should any such theory be rejected because of a minor inconsistency. For we can rightly say that no such theory is free from this drawback.

All religious systems, it is confessed, are subject to great and insuperable difficulties. Each disputant triumphs in his turn; while he carries on an offensive war, and exposes the absurdities, barbarities, and pernicious tenets of his antagonist. But all of them, on the whole, prepare a complete triumph for the Sceptic; who tells them, that no system ought ever to be embraced with regard to such subjects: For this plain reason, that no absurdity ought ever to be assented to with regard to any subject. A total suspense of judgement is here our only reasonable resource. And if every attack, as is commonly observed, and no defence, among Theologians, is successful; how complete must be his victory, who remains always, with all mankind, on the offensive, and has himself no fixed station or abiding city, which he is ever, on any occasion, obliged to defend?

Everyone admits that all religious systems face great difficulties that cannot be overcome. Each debater triumphs in turn while attacking his opponent’s absurdities, cruelties, and harmful teachings. But taken together, all these debaters secure a complete victory for the Sceptic. He tells them that no system should ever be accepted on such subjects. The reason is simple: no absurdity should ever be accepted on any subject. Our only reasonable option here is to suspend judgment completely. And suppose, as people commonly observe, that every attack among theologians succeeds, while no defense does. How complete must the Sceptic’s victory be, when he always takes the offensive against all humanity? He has no fixed position or permanent stronghold that he is ever obliged to defend.