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So at the end of his life Clerk-Maxwell characteristically observed, that he had studied many queer religions and philosophies, but had found none of them that would work without God concealed somewhere.

Finally, a warning uttered by Lord Rayleigh in the address quoted above must not be forgotten. After acknowledging that "unfortunately" there are writers speaking in her name who have set themselves to foster the prevailing belief that Science necessarily tends towards materialism, he thus continued:

It would be easy, however, to lay too much stress upon the opinions of even such distinguished workers as these. Men who devote their lives to investigation cultivate a love of truth for its own sake, and endeavour instinctively to clear up, and not, as is too often the object in business and politics, to obscure, a difficult question. So far the opinion of a scientific worker may have a special value; but I do not think that he has a claim superior to that of other educated men, to assume the attitude of a prophet. In his heart he knows that underneath the theories that he constructs there lie contradictions which he cannot reconcile. The higher mysteries of being, if penetrable at all by the human intellect, require other weapons than those of calculation and experiment.

XII
PURPOSE AND CHANCE

AN objection is no doubt awaiting us which many consider absolutely fatal to the argument for purpose or design in nature, as above presented. That argument, it will be said, rests entirely upon the assumption that the sole alternative to Purpose is Chance, an assumption which, if not dishonest, betrays ignorance scarcely less discreditable: for men of science constantly warn us that there is no such thing as Chance, – that every occurrence in nature, one as much as another, testifies to the uniformity and regularity of natural causation, – and that if we speak of any phenomenon being due to Chance, this term is but a conventional symbol signifying that we do not know what caused it.

Amongst those who take up this position, which is well-nigh universal, no better representative need be sought than Professor Huxley, who treated the point formally, and was manifestly well satisfied with his performance. We have already heard him declare belief in Chance to be an absurdity of which none but parsons could be guilty, a class in which he clearly conceived the low-water-mark of intelligence to be reached. On another occasion,¹⁵⁴ he set himself expressly to the exposure of what he described as, "The most singular of the, perhaps immortal, fallacies, which live on, Tithonus-like, when sense and force have long deserted them."

Probably the best answer [he writes] to those who talk of Darwinism meaning the reign of "Chance," is to ask them what they themselves understand by "Chance." Do they believe that anything in this universe happens without reason or without a cause? Do they really conceive that any event has no cause, and could not have been predicted by any one who had a sufficient insight into the order of Nature? If they do, it is they who are the inheritors of antique superstition and ignorance, and whose minds have never been illumined by a ray of scientific thought.

As an object lesson for his enlightenment, the Professor bids one of these benighted folk betake himself to the sea-shore on which a heavy storm is breaking; and having painted a rather elaborate word-picture of the scene, he thus continues:

Surely here, if anywhere, he [the unenlightened one] will say that chance is supreme, and bend the knee as one who has entered the very penetralia of his divinity. But the man of science knows that here as everywhere, perfect order is manifested; that there is not a curve of the waves, not a note in the howling chorus, not a rainbow-glint on a bubble, which is other than a necessary consequence of the ascertained laws of nature; and that with a sufficient knowledge of the conditions, competent physico-mathematical skill could account for, and indeed predict, every one of these "chance" events.

This, however, is mere beating of the air, having no bearing whatever upon the question at issue; and we can only wonder that so able a man as Huxley could thus absolutely miss the whole point, while remaining serenely unconscious that he did so. No sane man ever entertained the foolish notion with which he credits his man of straw. On the contrary, it is precisely those whom he so heartily despises, that disbelieve in Chance, and deny it any share in the making of the world. They neither regard Chance as a possible cause of phenomena, nor make of it a kind of deity or fetish, as some appear inclined to do with Science. Their contention is that according to those who, with Huxley, reject the idea of intelligent purpose, Chance would needs be introduced as a ruling element in nature, which would be absurd. Nor in thus arguing do they introduce any notion so irrational as that of "absolute" Chance, of events happening without causes. But unquestionably there can be "relative" Chance. A cause fully sufficient for the production of a result, may have no tendency whatever to determine or direct this result to a particular end; and if in such circumstances this end be attained it is by Chance. In particular, should many independent results of purely mechanical forces combine to produce a result, as intelligence would combine them, its production can only be ascribed to Chance. "Chance" has therefore a very real meaning. It is not a Cause, but the absence of Cause: not of Cause altogether, but of the determining Cause requisite for the production of certain results. The argument based upon the impotence of Chance to obtain such results, is precisely that which the most exact of all the Sciences, Mathematics, accepts and applies in the Theory of Chances.

The answer to the question which Professor Huxley evidently deems unanswerable is plain enough. By "Chance" is meant the concurrence, unguided by Purpose, of independent forces to produce a definite effect. "Chance" denotes the absence of Purpose, as "Vacuum" denotes the absence of air; and when it is denied that certain results can come about by chance, or fortuitously, it is as when we deny that life can be sustained in vacuo. It is no positive feature or action of the vacuum that we have in mind, for its essence is negative; but just because of that negative character, experience has taught us, that it cannot fulfil certain functions. In the same manner the potency of "Chance" is denied, simply because it is not Purpose.

That there are phenomena for which "Chance" thus defined cannot account is, surely, obvious. If a man sits down at a piano and plays "God Save the King," no evidence in the world would persuade Professor Huxley or any one else, that the performer had never before seen a musical instrument, nor knew of the existence of such an air or any other, but just put his fingers on the keys as the spirit moved him. Such a story would be rightly felt to be absolutely incredible: and yet the notes he produced – equally with those of the howling chorus of winds and waves – were the necessary effects of physical causes; given that particular strings were struck, they could not but follow. The whole point is, however, that in this case the result is not a howling chorus, but a melody; not mere formless noise, but an orderly composition, constructed on definite principles which our mind can recognize. It is in regard of this particular feature of the result that Force of itself, as we have seen, explains nothing, and that, if there is to be any explanation at all, we must know something as to how Force received the needful Direction or Determination.

It is only in regard of human action that we can, as in the above instance, find an example of what may be called pure fortuity, for such action alone can be traced up to an initial cause, namely the exercise of Will. No one can have a right to call the action of natural forces fortuitous; on the contrary, we have seen arguments that in the inorganic world itself purpose must be recognized. But an action directed by purpose to one result may be quite fortuitous in regard of another. A man who digging a foundation for a house finds a buried treasure, discovers this by chance. Although his action was ruled by a most definite purpose, that purpose was not this. So again when, according to the old story, certain Phœnician mariners finding no stones on the sea-shore suitable for the purpose, used blocks of natron to support their cooking-pots, and so produced glass, they were led to the discovery by mere chance. And in like manner, however definitely the forces of matter may be determined each to its own proper end, there are results which if produced by them must be as purely fortuitous as such an invention made by men who thought only of preparing their dinner. The cable which was being laid to America having, in 1865, snapped and sunk in mid-Atlantic, it was determined in the following year to attempt its recovery. Meanwhile the shore-end at Valencia was still connected with the dial-plate, on which messages had been scored between ship and shore while the cable was intact. A telegraphist was constantly on duty, watching the needle which was never still, being deflected hither and thither by the earth-currents, working through the wires. On a sudden, however, the needle spelled out the letters "Got it," and it was known with absolute certainty that there was a man at the other end. It is no doubt perfectly true that each previous movement had been the necessary consequence of the force applied, just as truly as those which coincided with the conventions of the telegraphist's alphabet; but win any one say that such coincidence could conceivably be attributable to the forces of magnetism alone, however exact to the laws according to which they operate?

It must always be remembered that the question we have to discuss is, how far Science casts any light upon such questions as the one before us. And since "Science" is taken to mean knowledge acquired through the observation of phenomena alone, we have at present to enquire whether material forces, the only ones of which observation directly tells us anything, could have produced such effects as we have considered, otherwise than by mere "Chance"? If they could not, is it imaginable that they produced these effects at all? And it appears obvious that unless there be Purpose at the back of Nature, Chance must be acknowledged as the architect of the universe.

Professor Huxley tells us, it is true, that such an idea could be entertained by no one whose mind had ever been illumined by a ray of scientific thought. In face of this it is rather remarkable to find that the idea was undoubtedly entertained by Mr. Darwin, who took for granted that to deny Purpose is to affirm Chance.

I am conscious [he wrote to Asa Gray]¹⁵⁵ that I am in an utterly hopeless muddle. I cannot think that the world, as we see it, is the result of chance; and yet I cannot look at each separate thing as the result of Design.

And again:¹⁵⁶

I cannot any how be contented to view this wonderful universe, and especially the nature of man, and to conclude that everything is the result of brute force. I am inclined to look at everything as resulting from designed laws, with the details, whether good or bad, left to the working out of what we call chance. Not that this notion at all satisfies me.

Professor Haeckel too is by no means in accord on this point with his friend Professor Huxley. He writes:¹⁵⁷

One group of philosophers affirms, in accordance with the teleological conception, that the whole cosmos is an orderly system, in which every phenomenon has its aim and purpose; there is no such thing as chance. The other group, holding a mechanical theory, expresses itself thus: The development of the universe is a monistic mechanical process, in which we discover no aim or purpose whatever; what we call design in the organic world is a special result of biological agencies; neither in the evolution of the heavenly bodies nor in that of the crust of our earth do we find any trace of a controlling purpose – all is the result of chance. Each party is right – according to its definition of chance. The general law of causality, taken in conjunction with the law of substance, teaches us that every phenomenon has a mechanical cause; in this sense there is no such thing as chance. Yet it is not only lawful, but necessary to retain the term for the purpose of expressing the simultaneous occurrence of two phenomena, which are not causally related to each other, but of which each has its own mechanical cause independent of the other. Everybody knows that chance, in this monistic sense, plays an important part in the life of man and in the universe at large. That, however, does not prevent us from recognizing in each "chance" event, as we do in the evolution of the entire cosmos, the universal sovereignty of nature's supreme law, the law of substance.

There is a good deal here which is less clear in the way of argument than could be wished. The famous Law of Substance, as we have seen, has two articles: The indestructibility of matter, and the conservation of energy. What light either of these principles may be supposed to shed on such questions as the adaptation of organs to their functions is by no means obvious. To say that there is no design in the organic world, because it is a special result of biological agencies, – is quite of a piece with the contention which has actually been made, that we can no longer argue to Design, with Paley, from the analogy of a watch, since "nearly every part of a watch is now made by inanimate machinery."¹⁵⁸ Thus much, however, is perfectly clear: the competence of Chance is recognized to originate a world like ours, and to enable Nature, as Professor Clifford says, seemingly to answer our questionings with an intelligence akin to our own.

It would thus appear that when Newton asks, – Was the eye fashioned without knowledge of the laws of light, or the ear, without knowledge of those of sound? – we are to answer in the affirmative, and to say that such organs are but special results of biological agencies, under the general management of the Law of Substance.

That such a reply cannot with any truth be termed scientific is plain – for it touches matters which by her own acknowledgment Science cannot reach; – nor does it seem probable that this kind of talk would convince anybody, were there nothing more. Undoubtedly those who persuade themselves that the Order of the Universe can be sufficiently explained without introducing the idea of purpose or design, are influenced by other considerations than these.

(1) With some it is the argument, which appears chiefly to have weighed with Mr. Darwin, who constantly speaks of it as the great obstacle to that belief in Design which the marvels of the universe would otherwise necessitate. This he based on certain features in Nature which appeared to him incompatible with the work of a beneficent Author, mainly the existence of suffering amongst animals in whose case it cannot be supposed to subserve any purpose of moral benefit. As he wrote to Asa Gray:¹⁵⁹

I own that I cannot see as plainly as others do, and as I should wish to do, evidence of design and beneficence on all sides of us. There seems to me too much misery in the world. I cannot persuade myself that a beneficent and omnipotent God would have designedly created the Ichneumonidae with the express intention of their feeding within the living bodies of caterpillars, or that a cat should play with mice. Not believing this, I see no necessity in the belief that the eye was expressly designed.

Such a mode of meeting the arguments for Design, though only indirect, undoubtedly deserves serious consideration, touching as it does the darkest of all mysteries – the Origin of Evil. It is clear, however, that in Mr. Darwin's case, and probably in that of many others, its effect was due in no slight degree to imagination rather than to reason. He picks out one or two instances of seeming cruelty in Nature, as though they were something exceptional, and appears to imply that they create an obstacle to a belief which Nature as a whole almost forces upon him. In reality, the same sort of thing goes on everywhere. Animal life from beginning to end is a record of rapine and slaughter, as Tennyson declared in a verse too trite to bear quotation. The most petted of pet dogs has no more compunction than a tiger in worrying creatures weaker than itself, and a robin-redbreast takes far more lives daily than does a sparrow-hawk. But to draw from these facts such large conclusions – is quite another matter. Can we imagine that we are qualified by the fulness of our knowledge to pronounce judgment and declare that there can be no good end where we fail to perceive one? As Mr. Darwin admits in the very same passage: "I feel most deeply that the whole subject is too profound for the human intellect. A dog might as well speculate on the mind of Newton."

How much is there in the actions of persons much lowlier than Newton which to the most intelligent of animals, dogs, elephants, or monkeys, could they speculate at all, must seem wholly devoid of sense; – as for instance that men should spend such continual labour in digging and ploughing. So again, in his famous lecture on Coal, Professor Huxley depicts what might have been the reflections of a giant reptile of the Carboniferous Epoch, suggested by the seemingly senseless waste of nature's powers in the production of the primeval forests, that have furnished the coal measures, to which so much of our progress and civilization is directly due.

And, after all, given the universal law of death for all living things, it would hardly appear that we can assure ourselves that any attendant circumstance constitutes a greater evil – as Mr. Darwin's argument seems to assume; and yet, it does not appear ever to have been argued that there can be no purpose in Nature since no organic life endures for ever. Most probably, if we knew enough, we should plainly see that nothing could be more cruel than to have omitted the carnivora from creation, leaving herbivorous animals to multiply till they starved one another to death, or at least to perish of senile decay far more painfully than under the fangs of tigers and wolves. Instances might moreover be quoted which serve to remind us how impossible it is rightly to estimate the true character of suffering amongst creatures altogether different from ourselves. Thus when, as eye-witnesses report, young scorpions clinging to their mother devour her alive, scientifically avoiding as long as possible all vital parts and mortal wounds – we are inclined to consider them monsters of wickedness, and their parent as a model of motherly devotion, whose sufferings cannot be less horrible than those of a caterpillar similarly eaten by the ichneumon grub. But we cannot with any reason impute more moral blame to the young scorpions, than to the lambkins which draw sustenance from their dams in another fashion which we find touching and poetical; while as for the mother – who doubtless treated her own parent in just the same fashion – she exhibits no symptom to show that she resents her offsprings' advances, any more than does the ewe, but on the contrary has her sting ever ready for any one who would interfere with them.

(2) It is a still more common objection to the doctrine of purpose everywhere in Nature, that such an idea is negatived by the continuity and uniformity of natural laws, precluding the notion of constant interference by another, supernatural, Agent. But this objection is based upon an entire misconception. No one imagines such intervention, or that purpose guides nature as a pilot guides a ship by repeated orders to the man at the wheel. Undoubtedly the reign of law in nature is uninterrupted, but in that law purpose is interwoven as the controlling element; just as the mind of Homer governs the hand of every printer who sets up type for a new edition of the Iliad.

(3) Finally, there is the argument, already alluded to, that inasmuch as the most complex structures are daily transmitted under our eyes by generation, we have evidence that nature can produce them from her own resources, and by the operation of a merely natural law, such as no one doubts generation to be.

Such an argument, it is evident, merely begs the question at issue, offering as it does no explanation, or suggestion, as to how a power so marvellous was acquired. It would be equally philosophical to argue that there is nothing wonderful about the genius of a great poet because we confidently anticipate that it will be exhibited in the next piece he produces.

It is likewise clear that, here again, imagination rather than reason furnishes the argument. In the first place, were there nothing else, no explanation whatever would thus be afforded as to how the structures in question were first produced, before they could be transmitted. And, secondly, which is still more important, generation – far from furnishing an explanation of anything – introduces us to mysteries yet more inscrutable than any we have yet encountered, and to problems which seem to admit of no possible solution apart from, not only Purpose, but transcendent Power.

Doubtless the propagation of life is ruled by natural law, but how such law effects its object we understand immeasurably less than we understand the flight of birds or butterflies. As a recent writer reminds us,¹⁶⁰ what is transmitted from parents to offspring "is not a new form or structure, but only the potentiality of such a new form: which, in suitable circumstances, builds itself up out of surrounding inorganic and organic material." As Lord Grimthorpe expresses the same truth:¹⁶¹

If we suppose an apple-tree to have once grown somehow, and to have somehow got power to produce seeds, that would not produce any more apple-trees, unless the seeds, and all the adjacent atoms that are wanted, had the power and the will to combine and grow into another apple-tree. The first hen that laid an egg performed a wonderful feat enough, but it would have done no good unless the atoms of the egg also knew and resolved what to do to turn themselves into a chicken. Yet spontaneous evolutionists are in the habit of slurring over generation as a thing too "natural," and therefore too easy and simple to require explanation.

The continual operation of a law such as this, certainly does not remove mysteries, nor make it more easy to understand how the order and the marvels of the universe can rationally be attributed to Chance rather than to Design, according to "this new philosophy of effects without causes and laws without a lawgiver."¹⁶² For "fortuitous" means, as Professor Case has well observed,¹⁶³ not the accidental, as opposed to the regular laws of nature, but the spontaneous necessity of nature, as opposed to the voluntary designs of intelligence. Nor is it only in the organic world that we find the need of such a factor to explain phenomena; for it is throughout more essential than any other force to account for Nature as we find her – in such a manner as to satisfy the logical demands of our mind. We learn as little from observation and experiment as to the fundamental laws of matter, – gravitation, for instance, which Faraday and Herschel termed "the mystery of mysteries," or chemical affinities, or the nature of Ether – as concerning anything in organic nature; though in the latter we undoubtedly mount to a higher plane of mysteriousness. And in either case we could learn nothing whatever, – that is to say, Science would be wholly impossible, – did we not find natural phenomena respond to our enquiries with what seems an intelligence akin to our own. And accordingly it appears but reasonable, – that is to say, truly scientific, – to exclaim as did even Diderot – "Quoi! le monde formé prouverait moins une intelligence que le monde expliqué!"