argument. It is usually formulated in this manner. The material universe must have a sufficient reason for its existence, and for its possession of its actual powers and properties; either it exists necessarily and essentially, and in that case we find the sufficient reason in its own essence, or it is not self-existent, when we must seek the reason why it actually exists in some productive principle. Now, when we reflect on all our knowledge of matter, it seems clear that it is not self-existent; its existence seems a pure contingency which we can easily change in thought; it might have been eternally in rest, yet it is in motion; its properties might conceivably have been very different. We must, therefore, postulate an eternal, self-existent being, distinct from the world, who gave it existence, and is responsible for its actual movement and distinctive characteristics.
It will surprise many that such an argument should have been considered the strongest foundation of belief in God; yet it is everywhere the principal support of rational theology. The study of metaphysics does, indeed, develop and strengthen the reasoning faculty, but it has the notorious effect of predisposing to a confusion of the subjective and the objective. The metaphysician has ever been inclined to objectify his mental images and their connections; and if I had not indulged largely in the study of historical and physical science, there is every probability that I should have continued to rest my belief in a real, objective, spiritual world, on the subjective play of thought which it represented in the metaphysical argument. It contains just the same fallacy as the popular way of thinking: “The world must have a cause; there must be an infinite being somewhere.” The “must” is a psychological phenomenon, and nothing more—a mental impulse or craving is construed into an objective necessity. So it is in the philosophical elaboration of the same thought: self-existence, or necessary existence, and contingency is an antithesis of thought transferred illegitimately into attributes of things; the principle of sufficient reason is the expression of a law, or, rather, a strong tendency of thought, which has been projected into the real world in the day-dream of the metaphysician.
Thus did I come to the term of my inquiry, and taste the bitter fruit of the tree of knowledge. Other arguments there are without number, sad monuments of the obstinate adherence of humanity to a faltering belief. One by one they dissolved upon a severe and impartial analysis, as I lingered over the yellow pages of the heroes of the school, or devoured each new apologist who seemed so profoundly convinced of the depth and originality of his evidences. Like the famous character in Heine, I called piteously upon God, wandering in thought throughout the universe; but the environing space and the mountain sides, the restless sea and the busy haunts of men, did but re-echo the despairing
