foundation in reason and its origin in human nature.

'Hap

pily', says Hume, 'the first question, which is the most important, admits of the most obvious, at least, the clearest solution. The whole frame of nature bespeaks an intelligent Author, and no rational enquirer can, after serious reflection, suspend his belief a moment with regard to the primary principles of genuine Theism and Religion.' This is possibly more strongly phrased than Hume might at all times be willing to approve of; but the consensus of passages from his various writings puts beyond reasonable doubt his sincere adherence to what he calls 'genuine Theism '1 and his acceptance of the argument from design as its rational basis.

1

Professor Huxley speaks of Hume's shadowy and inconsistent Theism'. Further examination will diminish our surprise at Hume's apparent inconsistency, while it diminishes at the same time our sense of the value of this ' speculative tenet of Theism ',2 to which he apparently assigns so important a position as the foundation of rational piety. It will be observed that the argument in the Dialogues has been uniformly and exclusively based on the evidences of order and design in external nature, and the conclusion reached was concerned, in Hume's phrase, solely with 'the natural attributes of intelligence and design'. Similarly in the 'Natural History of Religion' he distinguishes sharply between contemplation of the works of nature' irresistibly suggests 'one single being who bestowed existence and order on this vast machine and adjusted all its parts according to one regular plan or connected system '-and consideration of 'the conduct of events, or what we may call the plan of a particular providence', where the impression produced is strangely different. Two sections of the Dialogues (Parts X and XI) are accordingly devoted to an examination of the phenomena of human life and history as 2 Ibid.

1 Dialogues, Part XII.

• Essays, vol. ii, p. 314 (Green and Grose).

which

1

I

THE MISERY OF MAN

17

bearing especially on the moral attributes of the Deity, his justice, benevolence, mercy and rectitude'. 'Here', says Philo, ' I find myself at ease in my argument.'

The discussion at this point takes its rise in a characteristic attempt of Demea to found the truth of religion on man's 'consciousness of his own imbecility and misery'. In Part X, he and Philo vie with one another in the darkness of the colours in which they paint the misery of human and all animal life. A perpetual war is kindled amongst all living creatures. Necessity, hunger, want, stimulate the strong and courageous. Fear, anxiety, terror, agitate the weak and infirm. The first entrance into life gives anguish to the new-born infant and to its wretched parent. Weakness, impotence, distress, attend each stage of that life and 'tis at last finished in agony and horror.' And even when man by combination in societies is able to surmount all his real troubles, he immediately raises up for himself imaginary enemies, the demons of his fancy, who haunt him with superstitious terrors and blast every enjoyment of life. Society itself becomes the source of the most poignant miseries. Man is the greatest enemy of man. Oppression, injustice, contempt, contumely, violence, sedition, war, calumny, treachery, fraud; by these they mutually torment each other.' Whether we look at the long catalogue of physical diseases, at the mental torments of the passions and emotions, or at the labour and poverty which are the lot of the vast majority of mankind, we are driven to ask how a world like this can be traced to a Being in whom infinite power and wisdom are united with perfect goodness. 'In what respect', says Philo, 'do his benevolence and mercy resemble the benevolence and mercy of men? . . None but we

.

Mystics, as you were pleased to call us, can account for this strange mixture of phenomena, by deriving it from attributes, infinitely perfect, but incomprehensible.' When Cleanthes unmasks the covert atheism of such an argument,

and asks: 'To what purpose establish the natural attributes of the Deity, while the moral are still doubtful and uncertain?' Demea thinks to save the situation in the usual orthodox fashion. This world is but a point in comparison of the universe: this life but a moment in comparison of eternity. The present evil phenomena, therefore, are rectified in other regions and in some future period of existence. And the eyes of men, being then opened to larger views of things, see the whole connexion of general laws; and trace, with adoration, the benevolence and rectitude of the Deity, through all the mazes and intricacies. of his providence.' 'No!' replies Cleanthes, with a vehement disclaimer of this crooked logic, 'these arbitrary suppositions can never be admitted contrary to matter of fact, visible and uncontroverted. Whence can any cause be known but from its known effects? Whence can any hypothesis be proved but from the apparent phenomena ? To establish one hypothesis upon another, is building entirely in the air.' He is prepared, however, to deny Demea's exaggerated pessimism as contrary to experience. Health is more common than sickness, Pleasure than pain, Happiness than misery. And for one vexation which we meet with, we attain, upon computation, a hundred enjoyments.' But Philo reminds him (what he should have himself remembered in his pessimistic disquisitions) that it is impossible, in strictness, to estimate and compare all the pains and all the pleasures in the lives of all mankind, or of all living creatures, and to weigh the one against the other. Such a valuation of life must be matter of individual opinion, resting largely on temperament. But it is not necessary for the purposes of the argument, Philo proceeds, to decide such a question one way or another. Why is there any misery at all in the world?... Is it from the intention of the Deity? But he is perfectly benevolent. Is it contrary to his intention? But he is almighty. Nothing can shake the solidity of this

I

A FINITE GOD

19

reasoning, so short, so clear, so decisive; except we assert that these subjects exceed all human capacity, and that our common measures of truth and falsehood are not applicable to them.'

Urged in this way, Cleanthes for the first time abandons his immovable attitude. Up to this point he has simply reiterated, in the face of every criticism and objection, the cardinal doctrine of natural religion. Now, under the pressure of the argument, he confesses that he has 'been apt to suspect the frequent repetition of the word infinite, which we meet with in all theological writers, to savour more of panegyric than of philosophy, and that any purposes of reasoning, and even of religion, would be better served, were we to rest contented with more accurate and more moderate expressions'. If we abandon all human analogy'-as Demea and Philo seem inclined to do-he is afraid that 'we abandon all religion, and retain no conception of the great object of our adoration. If we preserve human analogy, we must for ever find it impossible to reconcile any mixture of evil in the universe with infinite attributes.' 'But supposing - the Author of Nature to be finitely perfect, though far exceeding mankind; a satisfactory account may then be given of natural and moral evil, and every untoward phenomenon be explained and adjusted. A less evil may then be chosen, in order to avoid a greater; inconveniences be submitted to, in order to reach a desirable end and in a word, benevolence, regulated by wisdom, and limited by necessity, may produce just such a world as the present.' He invites Philo to give his opinion of this new theory. The theory is familiar to us in more recent times in J. S. Mill's posthumous essays, and may almost be said to be fashionable. in contemporary thought as represented, for example, by William James, Dr. McTaggart, and others. It will therefore meet us again. At present we must limit ourselves to noting Hume's attitude towards it.

Philo begins by repeating in a memorable passage the protest of Cleanthes against the illegitimate employment of human ignorance as a premiss in the argument of orthodox apologetics. If we are antecedently convinced, on independent grounds, of the existence of an almighty Intelligence of perfect wisdom and goodness, the narrow limits of our understanding may reasonably suggest that the puzzling phenomena which seem so hard to reconcile with such a hypothesis may have many solutions at present, and perhaps for ever, beyond our grasp. But supposing, which is the real case with regard to man, that this creature is not antecedently convinced of a supreme intelligence, benevolent, and powerful, but is left to gather such a belief from the appearances of things; this entirely alters the case, nor will he ever find any reason for such a conclusion. He may be fully convinced of the narrow limits of his understanding ; but this will not help him in forming an inference concerning the goodness of superior powers, since he must form that inference from what he knows, not from what he is ignorant of.' Our ignorance, in short, 'may be sufficient to save the conclusion concerning the divine attributes, yet surely it can never be sufficient to establish that conclusion'. Reviewing the facts in a more measured and judicial temper than he had exhibited in backing Demea's impeachment of Nature in the preceding section, Philo's deliberate conclusion is that the original source of all things is entirely indifferent to all these principles, and has no more regard to good above ill [i.e. to happiness and misery] than to heat above cold, or to drought above moisture, or to light above heavy'; and what applies to natural evil' will apply to moral, with little or no variation'. The hypothesis of a perfectly benevolent deity, of great but limited power, seems to him negatived by 'the uniformity and steadiness of general laws', which point to the unity of the Power in which they have their source.

Philo must undoubtedly be taken here as the repre