When his affections and cares and thoughts all centre upon himself, his soul shrivels down to a dreary selfishness, and becomes a dry microscopic point, or else a mass of putrid sensuality. Man needs a lofty object above himself, after which he may aspire and upon which he may lay hold and lift himself into a nobler form of life. That lofty object is the ideal of a perfect, noble human character. "The formation of noble human character," says Mr. Murphy, "is the highest work that man or, so far as we know, that God can be engaged in."[418] The thoughtful mind recognizes that there is a purpose to be fulfilled in life which is nobler than mere enjoyment. Who has dared to say that our highest duty is to be happy? But every one must feel that it is our highest duty to form a nobler character and let the happiness take care of itself.

And now is it not a fact of experience that the more a man strives after a pure and noble life, the more does he become conscious of the need of superhuman strength and grace? He finds that he has to wage an uncompromising, sometimes even agonizing warfare against hereditary "taints of blood," against morbid instincts and low passions, against inherent selfishness and meanness, against tyrant habits engendered in the recklessness of youth, against the temptations of designing men and abandoned women, and the false sentiment, despotic opinion, and arbitrary customs of modern fashionable society. In the presence of these giants of evil with their fetters of iron he stands appalled, and against himself, against his temptations and sins, even against society itself, he feels he must call upon God for help. Through Divine strength he may conquer; without it—never. There are those who hope to conquer evil through a certain inherent force of nature, or a certain self-caused and self-attained culture. We do not dare to say that they will utterly fail, or that what they achieve is utterly valueless. But we do say that the character they develop is not the highest style of excellence. There is in it a boldness bordering on audacity, a self-sufficiency akin to haughtiness, and an arbitrariness which is repulsive. The very basis of a noble character, the very essence of that prophetic power which has exerted the mightiest influence on the destinies of man, is humility. The loftiest and finest minds have been eminently trustful—men of heroic confidence who derived their inspiration and confessed their dependence on the light and strength which come from above. These are the men who really shape the history of the world,[419] these are the men who command the esteem and win the reverence even of unbelievers. We can not illustrate this point better than by quoting the words of Dr. Tyndall in regard to Michael Faraday. Faraday, it is well known, was one of the greatest of modern scientists—it ought also to be as widely known that he was a devout Christian. Tyndall dined with Faraday, and on that occasion Faraday "said grace."

Tyndall writes: "I am almost ashamed to call his prayer a 'saying' of grace. In the language of Scripture, it might be described as the petition of a son into whose heart God had sent the Spirit of his Son, and who, with absolute trust, asked a blessing from his father. We dined on roast beef, Yorkshire pudding, and potatoes; drank sherry, talked of research and its requirements, and of his habit of keeping himself free from the distractions of society. He was bright and joyful—boylike, in fact—though he is now sixty-two. His work excites my admiration, but contact with him warms my heart. Here surely is a strong man. I love strength, but let me not forget the example of its union with modesty, tenderness, and sweetness in the character of Faraday."[420]

This, then, is the point we desire to emphasize. It is a fact of experience that prayer can give calmness, purity, and strength of soul. It can lighten perplexity and sorrow. It can empower us to resist temptation, and enable us to overcome sin. It can give "modesty, tenderness, and sweetness" to character. In a word, it can aid us materially in the formation of a noble human character.

Noble character can only be formed under two conditions. First, it can only be formed under the condition of freedom. The unfree is the unmoral.[421] There can be no dignity and no moral worth in action which results from mere mechanical force. Personality alone has responsibility, dignity, and worth. If, then, moral personality has true freedom and self-determination, we are free to pray, and God is free to answer prayer. We may believe that the physical world is held in iron bands of necessary causation, but we can not believe that the moral world is so bound. The human will is free, and the Divine will is free. "The First Cause," says Mr. Spencer, "includes within itself all power"—therefore alternative power—"and transcends all law"—therefore it can not be necessitated. We can not doubt that Mr. Tyndall would freely accord this position. He might hesitate, he would unquestionably refuse to unite in "prayer for rain," for example, because he holds that the fall of rain is governed by changeless physical laws, and "no act of humiliation, individual or national, could call one shower from heaven;" this would be a miracle, and "the age of miracles is past."[422] But we do not see how he could refuse to unite in the prayers of the National Church for the forgiveness of sins, for strength to overcome sin, for fortitude to endure, and for consolation under the afflictions and sorrows incident to human life.

The second condition necessary to the development of noble character is that man shall be capable of receiving inspiration from the great source of all life, especially of all spiritual life. The universal belief of our race that there is a community of nature between God and man, expressed alike in the words of Aratus, the Asiatic poet, Cleanthes, the Stoic philosopher, and Paul, the Christian teacher—"We are the offspring of God"—justifies the further expectation and hope that there may be a real communion between the human and the Divine. Of course this is fundamentally "a question between Theism and Atheism, between a God and no God," between a conscious Being and an unconscious Force. If there is a personal God, then He may communicate with our souls which dwell, as it were, within the ocean of his immensity, and are surrounded and interpenetrated by his living presence. Then there may be a real sympathy, a loving fellowship, and a sanctifying communion. Even should science forbid the Author of nature to interpose in the slightest degree in the procession of phenomena or modify in the least the action of the so-called natural forces, surely it will not be so "audacious"[423] as to forbid that He shall come near to human souls, and interpose in the moral order of the world to deliver man from sin and purify and elevate human society. Here at any rate science is out of its place. It is guilty of that very presumption with which it is evermore charging the theology of the Middle Ages, viz., the attempt to monopolize the whole field of human knowledge and experience. If the good man does feel that God is with him and in him, if he knows by experience that prayer is an act of Divine communion—that it opens to him an unfailing fountain of refreshment, solace, and strength; if he is conscious that it does lift him up to a larger and more blessed life, then even science, which boasts its rigid adherence to the inductive method, and its unswerving loyalty to fact and experience, must obey the Divine injunction—"Be still, and know that I am God." "I dwell with him that is of a contrite and humble spirit, to revive the spirit of the humble, and to revive the heart of the contrite."

2. We come now to the consideration of the second question, What are the facts concerning the order of nature which have been placed beyond controversy by the inductions of science, and what are the logical inferences from these facts?

The facts concerning the order of nature which it is claimed are placed beyond controversy may be stated in the following words: Now of all the results of science, none is more universal and more emphatic than this: that there is no arbitrariness in the series of events which constitute our experience; but that a perfect order or uniformity prevails through them all, an order which our intellect can apprehend under the form of cause and effect, or permanent force and necessary phenomena, or, better, a constant persistency of amount both of matter and force in the universe.[424] This statement of the scientist is accepted by many theologians (of the Calvinistic school), who say with Rev. William Knight, "The doctrine of the persistence of physical force and the invariability of natural law, is a physical truth of which the theological phase or corollary is the uniformity of Divine operation and the inviolableness of Divine love. 'The permanence of the order of nature' is the scientific equivalent of the Divine constancy—'the same yesterday, to-day, and forever.'"[425] How far and in what sense we accept this doctrine will be seen as we advance in the discussion.

At the beginning of this chapter we remarked that if the Christian doctrine of the efficacy of prayer is disputed, whether on theoretical or experiential grounds, an adequate and complete defense can only be made by falling back upon the fundamental conception of God, and the relation of God to nature and humanity presented in the preceding chapters of this volume. Is there a God in the proper and commonly accepted sense of the term—a conscious, free, personal First Cause, the Creator of the world and man? Is He the immanent Conservator of the universe—is his omnipotence the force, his reason the law, and his omnipresence the life of all nature? These are the questions which must be settled before we can successfully deal with the problem of the efficacy of prayer. If we are not agreed on these points, the debate must be adjourned until we have settled the first principles which underlie the discussion. This will be obvious to all who are acquainted with the history of the controversy. If it can be proved that there is no conscious, free, personal God, the creator and conservator of the universe, the question is settled; then prayer can be of no avail, and must "be abandoned to the domain of recognized superstitions." But if it be admitted that there is a God, in the proper import of that term, then the question may be debated whether the Christian doctrine of the efficacy of prayer is consistent with the scientific conception of material nature as "the living garment of God."[426]

Dr. Tyndall is the fairest and ablest representative of that class of scientific men who to-day are denying the efficacy of prayer—that is, of such prayer the answer to which would seem to involve the interference of personal volition in the economy of nature; and he believes in the existence of a God. He has again and again repelled with feeling the imputation of atheism which the English theologians have inconsiderately and unfairly cast upon him. He is a frank, outspoken man, and he admits that in "his hours of weakness and doubt" he has temptations to material atheism. "But," he says, "I have noticed that it is not in hours of clearness and vigor that this doctrine commends itself to my mind, and that in presence of stronger and healthier thoughts it ever disappears as offering no solution of the mystery in which we dwell and of which we form a part."[427] He also expresses his conviction that "the Power which works for righteousness is intelligent as well as ethical."[428] And furthermore he asserts that "it is no departure from scientific method to place behind natural phenomena a universal Father who, in answer to the prayers of his children, alters the currents of those phenomena. Thus far theology and science go hand in hand."[429] Let it, then, be distinctly remembered that we are arguing with men who believe in the existence of God.

In an article which appeared in the Fortnightly Review for August, 1872, entitled "Statistical Inquiries into the Efficacy of Prayer," by Francis Galton, a species of guerrilla warfare is opened on this doctrine from the stand-point of experience.

Mr. Galton assumes that "the efficacy of prayer is a perfectly appropriate and legitimate subject of scientific inquiry." It must be assumed to be subject to unvarying laws, and, like all physical problems, may be brought to the test of rigid mathematics. By the marshaling of very incomplete and partial statistics, drawn chiefly from Chalmers's "Biographical Dictionary," he endeavors to show that praying men, especially clergymen, are no healthier, recover from sickness no better, and do not live any longer than the men who do not pray. Insurance companies make no distinction between the prayerful and the prayerless; they regard them as equal risks. Furthermore, praying men do not make any better statesmen, any more successful men of business, or any better physicians and lawyers than prayerless men. On the contrary, "it is a common week-day opinion of the world that praying men are not practical." Finally, the children of praying parents are no better endowed intellectually, and do not turn out any better morally than the rest of mankind. His gentle impeachment is that they are somewhat below the common average. By this "scientific method," as he is pleased to call it, the writer flatters himself that he has routed the army of believers in the efficacy of prayer, and that the practice of prayer will soon become "obsolete;" "just as the Water of Jealousy and the Urim and Thummmin of the Mosaic law did in the times of the later Jewish kings."

But Mr. Galton's fusillade did not produce the effect he expected. True, it made some noise, and for a brief season commanded attention; but it was soon discovered to be a mere discharge of rhetorical blank-cartridge which hit nothing. His parade of argument was found to be utterly inconsequential. The dullest mind could perceive that the attempt to solve moral problems by statistical averages was a practical folly, because it began by unceremoniously assuming the very point it ought to prove, namely, that the determinations of will, whether Divine or human, are governed by necessary laws as surely as the revolution of planets and the vibration of molecules. It is precisely because personal acts are not reducible to any fixed laws, or capable of representation by any numerical calculations, that statistical averages acquire any value as substitutes. "No one dreams of applying statistical averages to calculate the period of the earth's rotation, by showing that four and twenty hours is the exact medium of time, comparing one month's or one year's revolutions with another's. It is only where the individual movements are irregular that it is necessary to aim at a proximate regularity by calculating in masses."[430] The comparison of large averages may approach equality and furnish a basis of probability as to the future, but the contingency of each individual case remains still a contingency.

In no department of human inquiry is there so much temptation and so much opportunity for plausible sophistry as in the now somewhat popular application of statistics to ethological problems. By a skillful manipulation of figures, Mr. Buckle[431] flatters himself that he has made it apparent that "individual felons only carry into effect the necessary consequences of preceding circumstances;" that marriages are regulated by the price of wheat; and that the number of suicides is determined by the rise and fall of the barometer; in a word, that the whole of man's social and moral life is part and parcel of nature, and subject to the same necessary mechanical laws.

The logic of statistics, or rather the sophistry of statistics by which Mr. Galton proves the uselessness of prayer, would, if skillfully managed, be equally efficacious in proving that sobriety and integrity, honor and honesty, are unprofitable and useless virtues—at least so far as this life is concerned; and we might say of each of them what Shakespeare's "Murderer" says of conscience: "It fills one full of obstacles.... It beggars any man that keeps it. It is turned out of all towns and cities for a dangerous thing; and every man that means to live well endeavors to trust himself, and live without it." Dishonest men are as healthy, recover as well from sickness, and live as long as honest men. Wicked men prosper in the world, they succeed in business and increase in riches better, it may be, than good and godly men. Dishonorable and unprincipled politicians climb into place and power with more facility than men of honor and integrity. Distinguished lawyers and skillful physicians have not been strictly temperate; and statistical tables may be easily produced which show that the longest-lived men have been such as did not go to bed sober for the last fifty years of their lives. Therefore sobriety, honesty, integrity, veracity are not profitable virtues, and, weighed in the same scales and by the same standards as are used by Mr. Galton to test the weight and worth of prayer, they are practically valueless and do not pay.

Simultaneous with Mr. Galton's article, there appeared a communication in the Contemporary Review entitled "The Prayer for the Sick: Hints toward a serious attempt to estimate its value," with the indorsement of Dr. Tyndall. The proposal contained in this communication came to be generally known in newspaper slang as "Tyndall's Prayer-gauge," though Tyndall was not its author. The proposition was that "One single ward or hospital under the care of first-rate physicians or surgeons, containing a number of patients afflicted with those diseases which have been best studied, and of which the mortality rates are best known, should be, during a period of not less than three to five years, made the subject of special prayer by the whole body of the faithful, and that at the end of that period the mortality rates should be compared with the past rates, and also with those of other leading hospitals similarly well managed during the same periods." This experiment, the writer thinks, offers "to the faithful an occasion of demonstrating to the faithless an imperishable record of the power of prayer."

There was a tone of moderation and candor in this proposition which for a moment beguiled the popular mind, and there were Christian ministers so injudicious as to admit that the proposal should be entertained and the experiment tried. But its superficial fairness was delusive, and its plausibility concealed a snare. The writer must have been sufficiently conversant with the Christian doctrine concerning prayer to know that the acceptance of his challenge would be a theological blunder; for there are no unconditional assurances in the Word of God that prayers for health and long life shall always be answered. We presume also that he must have been sufficiently acquainted with medical science to perceive that the acceptance of his challenge would be a scientific blunder, for there are elements in the problem which can not be scientifically appreciated, measured, and recorded. Such, for example, are the temperament, idiosyncrasy, hereditary diathesis, previous habits of life, and mental characteristics of the patients; such the variety in skill, care, sympathy, and almost inspiration among physicians and nurses; such also the differences of climatal, sanitary, and hospital conditions; all these elements, whose varied degrees of potency are incapable of being estimated, enter into the problem and affect the results. The multiplicity and complexity of these elements render the effects as irregularly variable as if each cause had not been subject to any previous conditions.[432] The problem is not even capable of being scientifically presented in terms of experience, and until that is done it can not be subjected to experiment. Suppose the experiment to be tried in the manner proposed by the writer, and the mortality rates to be in favor of the hospital for which prayer had been offered, it would still be open for the scientific skeptic to affirm that the causes of the difference are to be found in those elements whose varying values had not been enumerated in the statement of the problem, and not in any Divine interposition in answer to prayer.[433] He might claim that the patients were not all of the same age or temperament, the physicians were not all of equal skill, the nurses were not all alike attentive, the climatal and sanitary conditions were not equal, and the question would be left in precisely the same condition as before.

Whatever may be the award of a thoughtless derision, we do not hesitate in saying that the proposition is an improper one, and can not be entertained. Especially because there is one party concerned in this matter for whom no human being is authorized to make any engagements, and that is "the Hearer and Answerer of Prayer." There is only one class of blessings for which He has given us any warrant to pray unconditionally, and these are spiritual blessings. For strength to resist temptation, to endure affliction, and perform well our appointed work in life; for grace to purify our nature, elevate our aims, conquer our selfishness and pride, and help us to form a noble character, God has authorized and commanded us to pray. But for the blessings of this life, for deliverance from danger and suffering, for restoration from sickness and for long life, we are taught to pray in submission to that highest wisdom which knows what is best for us, and to append to every supplication, however ardent our desire and intense our solicitude, "Nevertheless, not as I will, but as Thou wilt." This submission is the loftiest attitude of prayer.

At the same time we shrink not from the distinct avowal of the Christian doctrine that it is reasonable and proper to offer prayer for recovery from sickness, and that such prayer, offered in submission to the Divine will, may be answered. We are not ashamed of the good old faith—"the Aberglaube," or superstition, as some are pleased to call it—that "the prayer of faith shall save the sick." The calmness and serenity of mind which the prayer of faith supplies is favorable to recovery. In fact, as "the systematic excitation of a definite expectation and hope," it has a legitimate place in psycho-therapeutics, as Feuchtersleben has shown, and even as Dr. Tuke concedes in his work on the "Influence of the Mind on the Body."[434] This "definite expectation and hope" is not a mere illusion. We have the assurance of Scripture that there is a Divine blessing which "giveth wisdom to the wise and knowledge to men of understanding," and which may descend upon the head and the heart of the most skillful physician in answer to prayer. Furthermore, it is generally admitted by medical men that "as in health certain mental states may induce disease, so in disease certain mental states may restore health."[435] Now these "mental states" may be the subject of Divine influence. Science has not dared to shut out the Spirit of God from the realm of mind, and therefore restoration to health may be given, in this manner at least, in answer to prayer. But no man would propose to make the prevalence of such prayer the subject of statistical averages. Prayer for the sick can not always result in their recovery, for then they would never die. Our lives are in the hands of God, and we shall live until our work is done, or until we have clearly shown that we will not do our work, and our life is a failure and a defeat.

Finally, in the name of our holy religion, we repel with scorn the attempt of certain scientists to test the value of prayer, and with it also the value of a life of self-denial, purity, and piety, by merely temporal, secular, and visible results which may be weighed and measured and set down in statistical tables. Christianity teaches that the present life is a probationary scene. It is a state of trial and discipline with a view to the formation of moral character. Therefore our principles and our virtues must be put to the test. Temptation tries our fortitude; affliction ascertains our submission; suffering purifies our souls; doubt and mystery give energy to our faith. Amid the good and the evil of the present our character has to be developed and perfected. There is much to be encountered, much to be endured. But as Richard Winter Hamilton has said, "This discipline is salutary. The furnace heat purities the gold by its rigorous assay. The vine prunes until it bleeds that it may bear its richer clusters. A theatre is raised for lofty struggle and celestial dint." The end of all is to make us pure and noble and heroic souls.

The scientists of this age, who are so enamored of inert matter and insensate force, may have no eye to see, no heart to sympathize with, and no competent faculty by which to estimate the value of this blessed vintage; but there are souls to whom honor is dearer than life, and wisdom more precious than rubies, and purity more desirable than fine gold, who will continue to pray—"Cleanse the thoughts of our hearts by the inspiration of thy Holy Spirit, that we may perfectly love Thee and worthily magnify thy holy name."

So much for the argument against the efficacy of prayer from the experiential stand-point. We are compelled to pronounce it a failure. There seems good reason to believe that Dr. Tyndall regards it as a failure, for we do not find that he any where denies the efficacy of prayer for spiritual blessings. But, like a second Ajax Telemon, he makes haste to interpose his ample shield for the defense of his unfortunate friends; he is careful, however, to change the entire mode of warfare, and he opens the attack on the efficacy of prayer from the theoretical stand-point.

Dr. Tyndall begins by observing that "the idea of direct personal volition mixing itself in the economy of nature is retreating more and more" in presence of advancing science, and among educated and scientific communities there is a growing conviction that "nature is absolutely uniform," and that her laws are changeless and permanent. He takes the ground that all prayer for Divine interposition "to produce changes in external nature," such, for example, as "prayer for rain or for fair weather," is irrational, because the answer to such prayer would be "a violation of the order of nature," "a manifest contradiction to natural laws," and in fact "a miracle." "The dispersion of the slightest mist by the special volition of the Eternal would be as great a miracle ... as the stoppage of an eclipse or the rolling of the St. Lawrence up the Falls of Niagara. No act of humiliation, individual or national, could call one shower from heaven or deflect toward us a single beam of the sun."[436]

We have characterized this attack of Dr. Tyndall's as an attack on the efficacy of prayer from the theoretical stand-point: 1. Because he does not claim that the belief in the changeless uniformity of nature is a self-evident truth—a direct intuition, either of sense or of reason, which needs no proof. 2. Because he does not assert that the absolute uniformity of nature has been inductively proved, or is even capable of verification by experience, since all experience, whether of the individual or the race, is necessarily limited, and can not, therefore, give a universal truth. All that he can say of it is that it is "an assumption"—an assumption which all carefully conducted experiments have justified, and upon which all successful scientific research has been based. The majestic fabric of modern science has been reared upon this foundation.

But mark, it is still "an assumption,"[437] and the central question around which the battle must be fought is, What ground have we for the assumption that the order of nature is so absolutely persistent and changeless that it never has been and never can be interfered with by an act of intelligent volition?

Dr. Tyndall has attempted an answer to this question. We shall endeavor, first, clearly to comprehend his answer, and, secondly, to estimate its logical validity.

1. He tells us that the belief in a changeless order of nature "is a kind of inspiration." "The passage from facts to principles (that is, the passage from our limited experience of uniformity to the affirmation of universal and permanent order) is called induction, which in its highest form is inspiration."[438] This, however, is poetry, and not science. This inductive inference embraces vastly more in the conclusion than is contained in the premises; the antecedent is limited, the consequent is unlimited; and the only warrant that Dr. Tyndall has for the violation of the most fundamental logical canon is "inspiration." But, whatever Dr. Tyndall may understand by this ambiguous phrase, it is certain that his own mind is not satisfied, and so he tries again.

2. He tells us that this belief rests upon the long-continued observations, registered experiences, and experimental verifications of a succession of scientific men, as Galileo, Torricelli, Pascal, Kepler, and Newton. But here again the experiences are limited, and do not justify a universal conclusion; and Dr. Tyndall himself is not satisfied. He says, "The scientific mind can find no repose in the mere registration of sequences in nature. The further question obtrudes itself with resistless might, Whence come the sequences? What is it that binds the consequent with the antecedent in nature?" What is it, we ask with redoubled earnestness and emphasis, which authorizes our drawing a universal conclusion from particular premises? "The truly scientific intellect never can attain rest until it reaches the FORCES by which the observed succession is produced.... Not until the relation between the forces and the phenomena has been established is the law of the reason rendered concentric with the law of nature, and not until this is effected does the mind of the scientific philosopher rest in peace."[439] Here we have "the law of the reason" substituted for "the highest form of inspiration," and we are curious to learn what this "law of the reason" is. Is it the principle, or law of causality—namely, that "all phenomena present themselves to us as the expression of power, and refer us to a causal ground?" But this law of the reason says nothing about uniformity. The same power may produce a diversity of effects. "Infinitely numerous and various universes might have been fashioned by the various distribution of the original nebulous matter, although the particles of matter should obey the one law of gravity."[440]

3. And, finally, Dr. Tyndall tells us that "The expectation of likeness [i. e., uniformity] in the procession of phenomena is not that on which the scientific mind founds its belief in the order of nature. If the force is permanent, the phenomena are necessary whether they resemble or do not resemble any thing that has gone before. Hence in judging of the order of nature our inquiry eventually relates to the permanence of force,"[441] or, as he elsewhere styles it, "the conservation of energy," which means "that no power can make its appearance in nature without an equivalent expenditure of some other power; that natural agents are so related as to be mutually convertible, but that no new agency is created."[442] Whether this is or is not a correct statement of the principle of the conservation of energy we shall see by and by. And now, after having hunted the game through many tortuous passages to its final burrow, what have we found? That the ultimate principle which justifies the belief or "assumption" that the laws of nature are so rigidly inflexible and the order of nature is so absolutely uniform that "personal volition can not mingle in or interfere with the economy of nature" is the principle of the conservation of energy.

The answer of Dr. Tyndall is now fully and clearly before our mental view, and we are prepared for the consideration of its logical validity. This answer may be conveniently divided into two propositions. First, personal volition, human or Divine, can not intermingle or in any way interfere with the economy of nature because her laws are inflexible and her order is uniform. Second, the ultimate principle which justifies the assumption that the laws of nature are absolutely inflexible and the order of nature is absolutely uniform is the principle of the conservation of energy. We shall consider this latter proposition first.

There are in this proposition three ambiguous terms, which have hitherto been the source of serious misapprehension; and unless we can attain to clearer and more definite conceptions, which shall be mutually accepted, the controversy will be interminable. These are the terms "nature," "laws of nature," and "uniformity of the order of nature." We have made the attempt in a previous chapter[443] to give precision and definiteness to the concepts which these terms should connote. Referring the reader to the chapter indicated, we shall here simply restate our results.

1. Nature is the aggregate or totality of all material or physical phenomena.[444] "Nature (nascor, to be born) means that which is produced or born."[445]

2. A Law of Nature is the statement of a certain uniformity observed in the relations among phenomena.[446] The laws of nature are "simply expressions of phenomenal uniformities, having no coercive power whatever."[447]

3. The Uniformity of the Order of Nature may mean either "uniformity of co-existence" or "uniformity of succession." "Uniformity of co-existence" means that the same substances must always have the same essential properties[448] and the same permanent relations to other substances, as, for example, every molecule of hydrogen must have the same properties, the same definite mass, the same periodic vibrations, and the same chemical affinities. If these were to be altered in the least, it would no longer be a molecule of hydrogen.[449] This is uniformity in the ultimate constitution of nature. "Uniformity of succession" means that the same or similar consequents will always be found to follow similar antecedents, or "the same causes will always be followed by the same effects,[450] as, for example, the combination of carbon and oxygen will always be followed by the evolution of heat, and heat will always melt ice." This is uniformity in the course of nature or the procession of phenomena. Belief in the constancy of the course of nature or the uniformity of causation is the general expectation that "the future will resemble the past."[451]

With a clearer apprehension of the terms, we may now discuss the first proposition with more precision, and hope to reach a logical conclusion. We approach the discussion by remarking—

1. The constancy of the course of nature or the uniformity of causation is not a self-evident and necessary truth. In so far as it is a scientific truth it is purely an induction from experience, an experience which is necessarily limited, and therefore does not warrant a universal conclusion. There is no rational à priori ground for the assumption that the same or similar causes (even if we understand by physical causes all antecedent conditions) shall necessarily produce the same effects. In other words, there is no authority for the assertion that the course of nature or the procession of phenomena must be absolutely uniform. Science has succeeded in establishing a strong probability, but it is beyond her power to demonstrate an absolute certainty. This is generally conceded, alike by physicists and metaphysicians. J. S. Mill says, "The uniformity in the course of events ... must be received, not as a law of the universe, but of that portion of it which is within the range of our means of observation, with a reasonable degree of extension to adjacent cases."[452] "The uniformity of causation," says Murphy, "is not a truth of the reason, it is known by experience only; and the truth of a conclusion from experience can never be free from all possibility of limitation or exception."[453] And Professor Jevons asserts, "The conclusions of scientific inference appear to be always of a hypothetical and purely provisional nature. Given certain experience, the theory of probability yields us the true interpretation of that experience, and is the surest guide open to us. But the best calculated results which it can give us are never absolute probabilities: they are purely relative to the extent of our information. It seems to be impossible for us to judge how far our experience gives us adequate information of the universe as a whole, and of all the forces and phenomena which can have place therein."[454]

2. It is an immediate fact of consciousness that the will is a cause which is adequate to the production of a diversity of effects. Whatever may be true of the world of matter, it is certain that within the sphere of our conscious personality the relation of cause and effect is not a relation of invariable and necessary sequence. Further, it is certain that a self-determining agent exists. "Every event in the universe of matter is determined by the events which precede it, but physical reasonings make it certain that the chain of causes and effects can not have been of absolutely endless length through past time. There must have been a first link of the chain; there must have been a first act of causation; and this act must have been determined, not by any previous act of causation when as yet there was none, but by the free self-determining power of the agent. The first act of causation we call Creation; the freely self-determining agent we call God."[455]

3. Physical science itself does not teach that the course of nature is absolutely uniform; on the contrary, all the conclusions of science lead to the conviction "that the universe is ever changing, and that, notwithstanding secular recurrences which would primâ facie seem to replace matter in its original position, nothing in fact ever returns or can return to a state of existence identical with a previous state."[456] Every theory of the origin of things is compelled to assume that an innate tendency to variability is a fundamental fact of nature. This is made apparent by the reasoning in Spencer's chapters on "The Instability of the Homogeneous" and "The Multiplication of Effects."[457] The advocates of Natural Selection are very emphatic in the assertion of this "Law of Variation," as the cardinal fact upon which turns their doctrine of the origin of species, and the whole system on which organic life has been developed from the lowest to the highest forms.[458] "There is," says Comte, "an irregular variability of effect engendered by the great number of different agents determining at the same time the same phenomena [meteorological, social, and vital], from which it results in the most complicated phenomena that there are not two cases precisely alike." "The multiplicity [of the agents] renders the effects as irregularly variable as if every cause had not been subjected to any previous conditions."[459] Dr. Tyndall himself is in fact compelled to surrender the doctrine of uniformity in the succession of phenomena. He says "if the force be permanent, the phenomena are necessary whether they resemble or do not resemble any thing that has gone before."[460] But if the phenomena do not resemble any thing that has gone before, how can there be "uniformity" in the succession of phenomena?

4. The uniformity of the constitution of material nature, or the principle that the same substances must always have the same essential properties, is undoubtedly a self-evident and necessary truth, an à priori, rational intuition. It is simply a statement in concrete form of the principle or law of identity (A = A, or A is not equal to non-A). As we have already observed, a substance which ceases to have the same essential properties ceases to be the same substance; for substances are only known to us through their properties. But this "uniformity of co-existence" is distinct from "uniformity of succession," and we can not infer the latter from the former. Admitting that the same substance must always have the same properties, we can not affirm that the same substances will always be collocated in the same manner, or distributed in space with the same uniformity. In fact, "we can discover nothing regular in the distribution of matter through space; we can reduce it to no uniformity, to no law."[461] Matter is never replaced in its original position; "nothing repeats itself, because nothing can be placed in the same conditions; the past is irrevocable."[462]

Even should we say with Sir William Thomson that "motion constitutes the very essence of what is commonly called matter," still we know with infallible certainty that there must be a something that moves, and that this something which moves must have ultimately a definite mass (inertia) and a measurable velocity, and that the energy of motion to which the power of doing work is due is proportionate to the mass multiplied into the square of the velocity. Matter, then, is something more than motion.[463] We know further that there are different "modes of motion"—transitive, rotatory, vibratory, pulsatory, gyratory—and that these are undergoing perpetual transformation or conversion one into the other. And, finally, we know that the quantities of visible molar energy, and of invisible molecular energy (as heat, light, electricity, magnetism), are not uniform; on the contrary, the quantity of mechanical energy is being continually dissipated—that is, transformed into radiant heat, "which may be compared to the wasteheap of the universe,"[464] and uniformly diffused heat will not yield a single unit of work.

The principle of the conservation of energy is therefore subject to limitations which are supplied by the principle of the dissipation of energy. It simply asserts that, so far as our observation extends, the whole amount of potential and kinetic energy in the universe is invariable, but it can not determine whether the amount of vital force, or of psychic force, is invariable; and it is certainly incompetent to fix a limitation to the exercise of Creative Power. "It is nothing more than an intelligent and well-supported denial of the chimera of perpetual motion, and that a machine can no more create work than it can create matter."[465] In the words of Grove, we can not conceive of the production of any new force in the universe "without the interposition of Creative Power."[466]

Dr. Tyndall, in his solicitude to exclude all Divine interposition in the economy of nature, has stated the law of the conservation of energy in a form quite different from that of his scientific brethren. He says, "The principle of conservation is, no creation but infinite conversion;"[467] and he seems desirous to convey the impression that any interposition of God to answer prayer would be a creation of physical force, and as much a miracle as the rolling of the waters of the St. Lawrence up the Falls of Niagara. Dr. Tyndall does not here display his usual fairness and candor. Surely he would not assert that the qualitative and quantitative combination of the different natural agents—such as light, heat, electricity, elasticity of vapors, and aerial currents—which determine the fall of a shower of rain, would be a creation of energy; or that the disposition of the meteorological, physical, chemical, vital, and psychical conditions which result in the cure of the sick, would be as much a miracle as "the stoppage of an eclipse;" for these natural agents are more or less under the control of man. But suppose it were granted that all interposition of God in the economy of nature must be regarded as miraculous, would he deny the possibility of miracles even if they should involve a creation of energy? Because we can not by any of our mechanical arrangements create energy, does it therefore follow that God can not create energy? Dr. Tyndall will not say this. "If you ask who is to limit the outgoings of Almighty power, my answer is—not I."[468]

It will be seen presently that Dr. Tyndall admits that the interference of personal volition in the economy of nature is not forbidden by the law of the conservation of energy. The point we now insist upon is that he has not succeeded in showing that this principle is an absolute and universal law of nature. We have already seen that it is limited and conditioned by the law of the dissipation of energy, and that in reality "it is merely a kind of movable equilibrium between supply and destruction."[469] By no experimental evidence has it been shown that it holds true in the realm of vital dynamics and psycho-dynamics. There are able scientific men who question its absolute certainty even in the realm of physics. Professor Brooke says that "the amount of energy in the world is unchanged, the sum of the actual or kinetic and potential energies being a constant quantity has been by some writers overstrained. It may be taken as a postulate, and is probably true; but it is a proposition equally incapable of proof and of disproof."[470] To the same effect are the words of Sir John Herschel,[471] and still more recently of Professor Jevons.[472]

"Nature," says Dr. Cohn, of Breslau, "is an equation with very many unknown quantities. It is the work of natural science to determine the value of these quantities. Some believe it never will be possible to solve the equation, since in it factors occur which can not be determined." Until this is done, it is simply presumptuous for Dr. Tyndall to pretend to know all the antecedents which determine the complex phenomena of nature, and dogmatically to affirm that "no new agency is created," and no "interference of Divine agency" can be permitted. "Our knowledge of things is finite, while our ignorance is infinite; and we must consequently regard all known lines of causation as being liable to be cut through by unknown ones." For aught we know to the contrary one of the unknown factors in the equation may be "personal volition," may be the ceaseless energy of the Divine Will sustaining and carrying nature forward through successive stages toward a predestinated goal. The foremost physicists do not deny that there may possibly be forms of energy which are neither potential nor kinetic.[473] We venture to assert with Prof. Challis that will, or personal energy, is neither the one nor the other, but the source of both. Mind is the originator, and matter is the recipient of force.[474]

We sum up what has been said in the preceding paragraphs on the uniformity of nature in the following words: We admit that the uniformity of the constitution of nature is a self-evident and necessary truth. We admit also that, so far as our experience extends, the uniformity of the course of nature must be admitted as a scientific truth, for to deny this would be to deny the possibility of all science, inasmuch as all science is prevision. But at the same time we maintain that the conclusions of scientific inference must always be of a hypothetical and purely provisional character, because it is impossible for us to judge with absolute certainty how far our experience gives us adequate information of the universe as a whole, and of all the forces and phenomena which can have place therein.[475] The conservation of energy, for example, is a very probable hypothesis which accords satisfactorily with the experiments of scientific men during a few years past, but it would be a gross misconception of the nature of scientific inference to suppose that it is certain in the same sense that a proposition in geometry is certain, or that any fact of immediate consciousness is certain.[476]

Admitting the principle of the uniformity of nature as a hypothetical inference from a limited experience, we advance to the main position of Dr. Tyndall, namely, that personal volition can not mingle in or interfere with the procession of phenomena in nature.

Dr. Tyndall admits the reality of "personal volition." We have not discovered in his writings any indications of the tendency manifested by some of his scientific associates to reduce volition to a form of physical energy. He grants "the power of free-will in man,"[477] but he seems unwilling to admit that free-will can exert any controlling, modifying, or determining influence on the procession of phenomena. "Assuming the efficacy of prayer to produce changes in external nature, it necessarily follows that natural laws are more or less at the mercy of man's volition, and no conclusion founded on the assumed permanence of those laws would be worthy of confidence."[478] But are not natural laws more or less subject to man's volition? Does he not act upon the chain of cause and effect in nature, and alter the procession of phenomena on earth? Certainly he can and does control and direct the forces of nature. He can so collocate and adjust the properties and forces of matter as to accomplish the purposes of his intelligence, and bring about new results which would not otherwise have been produced. That man has materially modified the physical geography of the globe can not be denied. He has altered the climatal condition of whole tracts of country, and changed the physiognomy of the globe. The rain-fall has been changed by the felling of timber or the planting of trees.[479] He has extended or circumscribed the geographical boundaries of plants and animals. He has learned to control the mechanical, chemical, and electric forces. When he lifts a stone from the earth and suspends it in the air, or locks it in the arch that spans the river, the law of gravitation is subordinated to the higher law of intelligent purpose. By the collocation and adjustment of mechanical forces he overcomes the resistance of winds and tides, and guides his vessel across the trackless deep. He seizes the lightning in the clouds and guides it harmless to the earth, and sends the electric current along the telegraphic wire to chronicle his deeds and report his thoughts at the ends of the earth. He loosens the most intricate combinations of elementary substances, and recomposes them in new forms of the highest value in medicine and the fine arts. He solidifies carbonic acid; freezes water at the tropics, and even in red-hot crucibles in the Temperate Zone. He also modifies and changes the development of vegetable life, obliterating thorns and spines, altering the color and size of flowers, and the flavor and nutritive character of fruits. And, finally, he has wrought marvelous changes in the form, size, habits, and instincts of the animal creation.[480] Thus in numberless ways does man control, modify, and subordinate nature to accomplish the purposes of his intelligence; but we can not see with Dr. Tyndall how this renders scientific "conclusions founded on the assumed permanence of natural law unworthy of confidence."

There is a vacillation in Dr. Tyndall's treatment of this aspect of the subject which renders it difficult to fix his exact position. Does he intend to assert that "personal volition" can not in the slightest degree change the succession of phenomena? Will he say that man does not, and that God can not control and modify and subordinate natural forces so as to bring about new and special results? Unless he is prepared to assert this in the most unequivocal manner, the whole superstructure of his argument falls to the ground. If it is granted that human volition can change the procession of phenomena, and "alter within certain limits the current of events," then à fortiori we may conclude that Divine volition may also interfere in the economy of nature to answer prayer. At one time Dr. Tyndall insinuates that "our notion" (that is, the Christian's conception) "of the Power which rules the universe" is a "mere fanciful or ignorant enlargement of human power,... a mythologic imagination which pictures a being able and willing to do any and every conceivable thing."[481] At another time he admits that "the theory that the system of nature is under the control of a Being who changes phenomena in compliance with the prayers of men is, in my opinion, a perfectly legitimate one.... It is a matter of experience that an earthly father, who is at the same time both wise and tender, listens to the requests of his children, and if they do not ask amiss, takes pleasure in granting their requests. We know also that this compliance extends to the alteration, within certain limits, of the current of events on earth. With this suggestion offered by our experience, it is no departure from scientific method to place behind natural phenomena a universal Father, who in answer to the prayers of his children alters the currents of phenomena. Thus far theology and science go hand in hand. The conception of an ether, for example, trembling with the waves of light, is suggested by the ordinary phenomena of wave-motion in water and in air; and in like manner the conception of personal volition in nature is suggested by the ordinary action of man upon earth. I therefore urge no impossibilities, though you constantly charge me with doing so. I do not even urge inconsistency, but, on the contrary, frankly admit that you have as good a right to place your conception at the root of phenomena as I have to place mine."[482]

If this concession is made in good faith, and really means any thing at all, it covers the whole ground. It is neither unscientific nor irrational to place behind natural phenomena a universal Father who alters the current of phenomena in answer to prayer. But this is not the conception which Dr. Tyndall places behind the phenomena of nature. His conception is that of a permanent force, which is "under the circumstances necessary," producing "an unerring order which in our experience knows no exception." This brings us to the third and last question.

3. How can the scientific conception of the force which is manifested in the phenomena of nature be brought into harmony with the idea of God as revealed in the religious consciousness?

We are now in the very heart of what we have characterized as the debatable ground which lies between science and religion, where questions are mooted concerning the relation between God and nature.

On the one side we have the facts of external sensible experience—the statical phenomena of nature as mass, extension, position, and distance—conditions essential to the action or manifestation of force; then the dynamical phenomena of nature as rotatory, vibratory, pulsatory, gyratory, and transitive motion, which to our reason, not to our senses, are manifestations of force. Science observes the uniformity of relations among these phenomena—uniformities of resemblance, co-existence, and succession, and calls these uniformities laws of nature. This is all that science can do, all that men of exact science claim to be able to do.

On the other side we have the facts of internal experience—the consciousness of effort, the sense of power and freedom, the idea of right and wrong, the feeling of dependence, of duty, and of obligation, the consciousness of moral responsibility and of moral desert, and the anticipation of a future retribution. These to our reason are the revelation of a righteous Lawgiver and Ruler who is over us; by whom we are obliged, and to whom we must account. This is the theoretic basis and necessary presupposition of all religion.

And now speculative philosophy steps in and endeavors to reduce these concepts of science and religion to an ultimate unity. It endeavors to construe in thought the nature of that relation between the force manifested in nature and the moral Ruler revealed in conscience. Therefore it asks the questions, What is force? What is life? What is mind?

If we say that force is as inherent and essential to matter as extension and inertia are, and that life and mind are but modes of force, we are on the high-road to mechanical Deism, if not material Atheism. If we say that matter is itself only a function of force, and that force is the ultimate of all ultimates, then the distinction between finite existence and the infinite Being is a merely verbal distinction, and we must yield to the seductions of Pantheism, which under this aspect of it is but another name for Atheism. But if we say that Spirit is the originator and matter the recipient of force, or "the recipient of impulse and energy," and that the immanent God is the life of all nature, we are pure Theists. We have now a "workable theory" by which we can satisfactorily interpret the universe.

This, however, is not the conception of Dr. Tyndall. The power which he sees in nature is a force which is inherent and essential to matter, and "in that matter he sees the promise and the potency of all terrestrial life," but not of all life, for "religion is life." The Power which is revealed as the object of the "religious emotions" is a Power which works for "righteousness," and is "intelligent" as well as "ethical." This Power he seems to regard as distinct from the force which produces the necessary phenomena of nature. But whence does he obtain this conception of force? He writes as though he had seen force, or cognized force, by some one of the senses. We claim that force is "a subtile mental conception, and not a sensuous perception or phenomenon;"[483] it is a metaphysical idea, "a postulate of reason applied to nature." We venture the assertion that the physicist has not the remotest conception of force except as a datum of consciousness. The senses give us only phenomena. All we perceive is motion, change, succession. "All we know or see is the effect; we do not see force."[484] So say all physicists as well as all metaphysicians. "Experiences of force are not derived from any thing else,... and the force by which we ourselves produce changes, and which serves to symbolize the cause of changes in general, is the final disclosure of all analysis."[485] Whenever, therefore, Dr. Tyndall attempts to account for motion and change in external nature by assuming the existence of invisible, imponderable forces, he is interpreting nature in terms of consciousness—we mean that consciousness of personal causation which we have when we put forth effort with an intention thereby to accomplish an end. Force is known to us by immediate consciousness as a function of our own mind—that is, mind acting in will is conscious of itself as a force. We are able to conceive of force in no other way. "Force dissociated from personality and will must be forever incomprehensible by us, because it would be something contradictory to our consciousness."[486] If we may not regard will-force as "the type of all the force in nature," then the physicist knows nothing about it, does not know there is any force, and the only consistent course is to unite with Comte in eradicating the word from the vocabulary of science.

In the only case in which we are admitted into any immediate personal knowledge of the origin of force, we find it connected with volition, with will, with motion, with intellect, and with all the attributes of mind in which personality consists.[487] We must, therefore, conclude that all force is mind-force, is spirit-force, and that the forces which animate nature are spiritual. Either the force manifested in the universe is the force of a self-existent and self-determining Intelligent Will, or we can form no conception of it whatever.

When we have once arrived at the conception of force as an expression of will, which we derive from our experience of its production, "the universal and constantly sustaining agency of the Deity is recognized in every phenomenon of the universe."[488] "The laws of nature are the laws which God in his wisdom prescribes to his own acts. His universal presence is the necessary condition of any course of events. His universal agency the only origin of all efficient force."[489] The persistence of force is the permanence of the Divine agency, and the deepest ground of our faith in the uniformity and changelessness of natural laws is the immutability of God.

We come, then, at last, to this, that the Power which is manifested in nature is the God who is revealed in consciousness, and that He is at once a God of power, of righteousness, and of love. In prayer, the intelligent believer does not invoke a different Power from that which is manifested in all the forms of physical energy which were manifested in nature; he does but invoke the same Power and the only Power which is the source of all causation and produces all the processions of phenomena.

The perpetual immanence and ceaseless action of God in nature is the source of all force and all law. There is no force and no law besides and apart from this. All our conceptions of necessity and uniformity, of special providence and miracle, are merely relative conceptions which result from our imperfect vision. These are all swallowed up and lost in the Divine Immensity. God is Power. God is Law. God is Love. Love is the motive, Law is the method, and Power is the hand manifested in all the changes of the universe. "The devout feel that wherever God's hand is, there is miracle; and it is simply an undevoutness which imagines that only where miracle is can there be the hand of God."

Let us say with Goethe, "Nature is the living garment of God," which at once reveals and conceals his mysterious splendors. In our days of darkness and sorrow and danger there are vouchsafed to us clearer gleamings of the Creative Spirit through the veil of nature in answer to prayer. These we may call "special providences," and even "miracles," if we please, but let us not fall into the error of supposing that we have seen more of God than in the budding of the leaf or the blooming of the flower in the time of spring. "There are diversities of operations, but it is the same God which worketh all in all."[490]