Phillips on the existence of God

All our knowledge is in essence sense knowledge

Phillips on the existence of God

Here are the first two chapters of Book II part III of Phillips’ Modern Thomistic Philosophy. Chapter 1 begins with a broad outline of the subject matter and scope of Natural Theology, and of the main question with which the chapter is occupied, namely the question of whether it is possible to know that God exists by the use of reason? Phillips make a nice point about those who maintain that the existence of God is to be accepted by faith alone, and so is not to be demonstrated. They feel that it is impious to attempt to prove what should be firmly believed, and they mix in with this “a kind of false mysticism, as if they had already a kind of direct intuition of God”. This runs counter to the scholastic conviction that we know the immaterial and supersensible by means of the material and sensible – “the proper object of man's intellect being the natures of material things”.

Phillips gives one of the briefest and best summaries of the Ontological argument I have read.

S. Anselm argued as follows: Our idea of God is that of a Being than whom no greater can be conceived. But that than whom no greater can be conceived cannot be in the understanding alone, i.e. a mere idea which has no reality apart from the mind, for if it were, and did not exist, something greater than this could be conceived, namely a being which had all that the first had and existence in addition, which would thus be a Being greater than the greatest conceivable one. This Being, then, which we call God must exist in reality as well as in idea.

He also gives a good explanation of what is wrong with it.

The answer to this argument is to be seen by distinguishing the minor: if the most perfect being did not exist and were not conceived of as existing of itself, one could conceive of a more perfect one, I concede: if the most perfect being, though not existing, were conceived as existing of itself, one could conceive of a more perfect one, I deny. So we cannot conclude that God exists, but only that if He exists He must exist of Himself. So if He exists, He exists not contingently but necessarily, but it is not necessary that He should exist. The fact that we conceive, and must conceive, of God in a certain way, namely as existing of Himself, in no way shows that in fact there is a Being which exists of itself, but merely that if there is a Being to whose concept existence attaches necessarily, He will, if He exists at all, exist necessarily.

That’s right. If S conceives of a non-existing x, perfect in all but the fact that it does not exist, then S can conceive of some y more perfect than x, namely the same as x in all respects, but existing. But it does not follow that such a y exists (only that S conceives it as such). Phillips, in line with Thomas, regards the Ontological argument as fallacious.

Footnote [270.1] is an interesting observation on the term a priori. Phillips notes that in scholastic terminology it means one which from a cause argues to its effect, while an a posteriori proof is one which argues from effect to cause. This is of course different from the meaning in modern philosophy, which probably derives from Kant.

Chapter 2 is a discussion of the ‘Five ways’ which Thomas regards as reasons for believing in the existence of God.

More recently (Phillips was writing over 70 years ago) Richard Dawkins has discussed Aquinas’ five arguments in The God Delusion. Somewhat dismissively, as you might imagine.

Edward Buckner London, September 2010

Book II PART III. NATURAL THEOLOGY

CHAPTER I

THE DEMONSTRABILITY OF THE EXISTENCE OF GOD

Natural Theology a Part of Metaphysics—Two Objections: God is the Object of Faith; God is Unknowable—The Answer to the First Objection—Is the Existence of God Self-evident ?_ The Ontological Argument—Rejected by S. Thomas—The Second Objection—Hume and Kant—Conditions of a Rigorous Demonstration—The Transcendent Value of the First Notions and Principles.

It is unnecessary to repeat here what has already been said as to the nature, scope and division of metaphysics; but it may be useful to recall that we saw that being which is positively immaterial, i.e. which never exists in matter, will, if it exists at all, have to form the subject of a special part of metaphysics, inasmuch as its nature must be different to that of all other being. Since God is conceived of as immaterial in this way, the name Natural Theology or Theodicy is applied to the section of this second part of metaphysics which treats of God. There may seem to be a surprising discontinuity between a discussion of the Divine existence, nature, and attributes and the investigation into the natures of things which we have, so far, been carrying out; for the word ' God' has for us primarily a religious signification; and we have become accustomed to the notion that God can be known, if at all, only by faith and not by reason. S. Thomas would never consent to such a mutilation of human knowledge, which, if allowed, would exclude us from knowing anything of the source and ground of things. On the contrary he maintains that metaphysics, the science of being, must deal with the ultimate principles of being. ƿ

Consequently, there must be a part of metaphysics which will treat of the ultimate principle or source of being, which we call God, if metaphysics is to be properly speaking the science of being, i.e. the knowledge of being through its causes. On the other hand, there can be no natural knowledge of God outside metaphysics, since it is proper to this science to treat of being and its causes, and it is only as the ultimate cause of being that we consider God in Natural Theology.

It will be necessary, therefore, in the first place, for us to ask whether there really exists in fact such an ultimate cause of being; for it would plainly be a waste of time to consider the nature of this cause unless we were first assured that it existed. Can we know, then, by the use of reason, that God exists ?

To this question a negative answer is often given: either on the ground that God is the object of faith, not of knowledge, or because it is supposed that human reason is incompetent to decide whether God exists or not. It is to be observed that the two reasons just mentioned as precluding us from having such knowledge are of very different kinds. For those who maintain that God can only be known by faith and not by reason, do not deny or even doubt that He exists, their objection is concerned only with the manner in which we are assured of His existence. The position of those who affirm the incompetence of the reason in this matter is quite other; for these are doubtful not merely as to the true method of assuring ourselves of the Divine existence, but as to the fact of that existence itself. This theoretical Agnosticism, or profession of ignorance as to whether God exists or not, evidently amounts in practice to a denial of His existence: since He is to be ignored. The objection, moreover, is one which denies that the human mind by its natural powers, i.e. by reasoning, can conclude to the existence of God, and is therefore a direct objection against the demonstrability of this existence. The first reason renders all discussion of the demonstrability of God's existence vain, since if we are already assured of it by faith, there is no need to enquire further; and so it is indirectly aimed against ƿ this demonstrably. It will therefore be logical to discuss the two objections in the order named, and we shall thus clear the ground progressively. It is, in fact, the order adopted by S. Thomas, who puts in the first place the objection which would render the discussion of the possibility of demonstration futile, and then those which attack this possibility in itself.

Just as in S. Thomas's day there were those who maintained that the existence of God is to be accepted by faith alone, and so is not to be demonstrated, so there are also in our own. It is, in fact, felt by those who take this view to be, in some sort, impious to attempt to prove what they firmly believe; and possibly there is mixed with this attitude a kind of false mysticism, as if they had already a kind of direct intuition of God. All that has been said earlier as to the nature of the human intellect and its proper object runs counter to such an idea as this, for we are convinced that we know the immaterial and supersensible by means of the material and sensible; the proper object of man's intellect being the natures of material things. Moreover, it is clear that to say that we know God's existence by faith is to make an assertion which refutes itself, since no one can accept anything on the authority of God, i.e. by faith, who is not first convinced that there is a God. Hence S. Thomas says here in answer to this objection, that the existence of God is not an article of faith, but one of the preambula to the articles of faith, natural knowledge being presupposed by faith, as nature is by grace, and in general that which is perfectible by perfection.

To this the Thomists add that the existence of God which is proved by reason relates to God as He is the author of the natural order, while faith in His existence can coexist with this natural certainty in so far as He is believed to exist as the author of the supernatural order. This belief in God's existence as the first cause of the supernatural order is an ƿ article of faith, whereas knowledge of His existence as the first cause of the natural order is a preamble to faith.

If, then, the question of the existence of God is one which is not confined to the sphere of faith, but falls also within that of reason, it may be that it is still in no need of demonstration because it is self-evident. S. Thomas therefore prefaces his consideration of the objections raised to the possibility of demonstrating it by one concerning the necessity of doing so.

He states and confutes, in various places, at least thirteen arguments which are intended to show that the proposition ' God is ' is self-evident. We cannot discuss them in detail, but they all revolve round the notion that existence and essence are identical in God, so that to conceive of His essence is to conceive of His existence. Thus the denial of the proposition ' God is ' is impossible, involving the manifest contradiction of saying: ' that which is existence does not exist.' If the predicate of a proposition is included in (or is identical with) the subject the proposition is self- evident; in which way the principles of identity and non- contradiction or the proposition that the whole is greater than its part are self-evident.

Now there are two things to be noticed about this suggestion. First, that any attempt to prove a self-evident proposition proves that the man who makes it does not consider it self-evident; and secondly, that though a proposition may be self-evident, it only shows itself as such to me if I understand its terms. No abstract proposition is self-evident to a dog or a cat, and the proposition 'the whole is greater than its part' is not evident to a man unless he understands all its terms. Now in the proposition which asserts God's existence, though I may understand what I mean by existence, I do not understand the nature of God in itself. My knowledge of the Divine nature is analogical, ƿ and does not apply to the nature in itself but to this nature regarded as in some way similar to creatures, which alone I now directly. What God is in His own proper nature, with regard to the mode of the Divine perfections, we know only negatively and relatively. In this way we form an idea of God's essence; deriving from our knowledge of creatures concepts of the Divine perfections, their mode in God remaining unknown. So though we may, and indeed must, conclude, on examining the notion of the Divine essence so formed, that it must be identical with existence, we do not see this in the essence itself which we know; but conclude by a process of reasoning that the existence of such a being as that whose essence we have thus conceived must be identical with that essence. So the proposition ' God is,' though self-evident in itself, since in fact essence and existence in God are identical, is not self-evident as far as we are concerned, for we never intuit God's essence and see therein His existence. We may, as the result of a process of reasoning, know that the proposition ' God is' is self- evident, we never know its self-evidence.

The most famous attempt to show that the proposition ' God is ' is a self-evident one is that made by S. Anselm in his Proslogium. It is what is known as the Ontological Argument, and its rejection by almost all Catholic theologians is no doubt due, in great measure, to the clarity with which S. Thomas pointed out its inconclusiveness. S. Anselm argued as follows: Our idea of God is that of a Being than whom no greater can be conceived. But that than whom no greater can be conceived cannot be in the understanding alone, i.e. a mere idea which has no reality apart from the ƿ mind, for if it were, and did not exist, something greater than this could be conceived, namely a being which had all that the first had and existence in addition, which would thus be a Being greater than the greatest conceivable one. This Being, then, which we call God must exist in reality as well as in idea.

The answer to this argument is to be seen by distinguishing the minor: if the most perfect being did not exist and were not conceived of as existing of itself, one could conceive of a more perfect one, I concede: if the most perfect being, though not existing, were conceived as existing of itself, one could conceive of a more perfect one, I deny. So we cannot conclude that God exists, but only that if He exists He must exist of Himself. So if He exists, He exists not contingently but necessarily, but it is not necessary that He should exist. The fact that we conceive, and must conceive, of God in a certain way, namely as existing of Himself, in no way shows that in fact there is a Being which exists of itself, but merely that if there is a Being to whose concept existence attaches necessarily, He will, if He exists at all, exist necessarily.

This argument was put forward again both by Descartes ' and Leibniz, and is not without its champions at the present day. Kant, on the other hand, criticised it; and indeed his rejection of those other arguments for the existence of God which he examined, is based on the rejection of the ontological; at least in so far as it is a criticism of the arguments themselves and not a corollary derived from his theory of knowledge. For he holds the other arguments to be invalid inasmuch as, in his opinion, they make a surreptitious and illicit appeal to the ontological argument, which is itself invalid. Curiously enough, though so much seems to depend on his showing the fallacy of the ontological argument, his criticism of it is, in fact, faulty; and indeed, as Professor Sorley has pointed out, irrelevant. It may be noticed that while Descartes' restatement of the argument leaves it essentially unchanged and so open to S. Thomas's criticism, the form given to it by Leibniz (that God is possible, and if He ƿ is possible, He must exist) somewhat modifies it; and the answer to this way of arguing is that we cannot, since we have no intuition of God's nature, know a priori that He is possible. As far as Descartes' form of the argument is concerned Leibniz associates himself with the criticism of Aquinas; and throughout his discussion of it shows a much keener insight into the strength and weakness of the proof than does Kant.

Some modern writers, as Lotze, Caird, and Bosanquet, have tried to restore the credit of the ontological argument which they wrongly supposed to have been destroyed by Kant's criticisms. As Fr. Joyce clearly shows, these restatements have little or no connection with the argument of S. Anselm and Descartes. Space does not allow us to consider them, nor yet the other arguments used to show that the existence of God is self-evident which are refuted by S. Thomas, and which have some affinity with them; but we must pass on to the objections raised against the demonstrability of the Divine existence by those who take up a position at the other extreme to that which we have been considering.

In place of saying that the existence of God is indemonstrable because it is self-evident, these declare that it lies outside the range of what can be attained by the working of man's mind.

The grounds on which this allegation are based differ widely in themselves but are one in their effect, which is to exclude metaphysical concepts and principles from claiming to be valid of objective reality. The ground taken by the Empiricists is that all our knowledge is in essence sense knowledge, while that of Idealistic Agnostics is that we clothe everything in the forms of our own minds, and so can ƿ never have knowledge of objective realities but only of phenomena. The protagonists of these two views are Hume and Kant; of whom the latter was, as is well known, profoundly influenced by the former.

Hume's attack, as far as our present subject is concerned, was chiefly directed against the ontological value of the principle of causality; though, of course, his whole notion that we can only know particulars, and never universals, since the senses only supply us with knowledge of concrete singular things, is involved. As we saw, it follows from this that causality is merely the regular sequence of phenomena, so that the ' cause' of any phenomenon would be but the sum of the phenomena which immediately precede and accompany it; these phenomena being merely antecedent or simultaneous, and having no power or influence over the phenomenon which we call their effect. We have no right to say, according to this view, that one thing gives being to another and really influences it, we can only assert the succession of phenomena. As Fr. Joyce points out, essentially the same result is reached in the Bergsonian philosophy which repudiates the intellectual division of reality by such concepts as cause and effect, agent and patient, substance and accident, which freeze what is essentially motion into immobility, and so falsify reality altogether. Now we have shown, at length, that the very foundations of this Empiricist view are unsound; since the intellect must be admitted to be a faculty distinct from sense, having as its proper object being, an object which is plainly of a different kind to those of the senses, or even of the imagination, which represents things to us, not as things or beings, but as definite sensible determinations: shapes, colours, and so on. We have seen, moreover, that it is necessary to attribute causality to real beings if we are to give an intelligible account of either change or multiplicity; and if the Empiricist urges that we cannot give such an intelligible account, having no intellects but only senses, he is clearly condemned out of his own mouth, for this supposition, and all the arguments which he uses, appeal, not to the senses—for they have no shape or ƿ colour or sound or scent—but only to the intellect. Such an argumentum ad hominem will carry us, however, but a very little way, since the end of all Empiricism is Scepticism, and it is impossible to pursue the Empiricists into this abyss of intellectual annihilation. The condemnation of Empiricism is to be found in the discussion of Nominalism in Epistemology, where we saw that this theory satisfies the requirements neither of experience nor of reason.

We turn, then, to the Agnosticism which was introduced by Kant's theory of knowledge. This theory is no less fatal than that of Hume and Mill to the concepts on which a demonstration of the existence of God must be based, of which the chief is that of causality.

Kant, as we noticed earlier, regards all metaphysical concepts including those of substance and cause as a priori forms of our understanding; and the principle of causality as a synthetic a priori principle, not one which imposes itself by its own evidence. We have already seen reason to reject both these positions (of which the second is, logically speaking, a corollary of the first), as being inconsistent with experience and contradictory in themselves. Inconsistent with experience, since no reason can be assigned for the application of the different categories to different classes of phenomena, as Fichte points out; though experience shows that we do apply them regularly and furnishes the reason, viz. that we see that they are applicable in the things themselves; and contradictory, as in Kant's view the idea of cause and causality itself cannot attach to things-in- themselves, and yet he allows that the things-in-themselves are causes of sensation.

We have only to note here that what Kant considers the speculative reason incapable of doing, viz. proving any metaphysical proposition, including the proposition that God exists, he allows to be within the powers of the practical reason, which, seeing that God's existence is inseparably connected with the moral law, is bound to assert it.

Kant's objection to the demonstrability of the existence of God is thus, like that of the Empiricists, directed against the principle of causality; though, unlike theirs, it does not ƿ deny the necessity of this principle, but maintains that it is a necessary law of thought which is not applicable to extramental reality. It thus denies the ontological value of the principle, and consequently its transcendent value also; that is, it denies that it is applicable to infinite being. It may be useful to recall here that by the ontological value of a principle is meant the capacity of that principle to give us knowledge, not merely of phenomena perceived by the senses or the consciousness, but also of being, of which phenomena are only the sensible manifestation; while by transcendent value we mean the capacity of the notion or principle for giving us true knowledge of God conceived as the first cause which transcends, and is distinct from, finite being; and not merely that such notions and principles are valid for being and its properties, which transcend the categories.

It is quite clear that we cannot hope to demonstrate the existence of God a priori. The nearest approach to such a demonstration is the ontological argument; and this, considered as a purely rational argument is, as we have seen, fallacious. Moreover, it is not an a priori proof, properly speaking, since such a proof proceeds from a known cause to demonstrate its proper effect, and it is clear that neither the idea of God, not yet His nature, is properly speaking the cause of His existence. Nor can any cause of God be conceived of, since nothing can be prior to Him either in nature ƿ or being. Hence, if any demonstration of God's existence is possible it will be a demonstration a posteriori, i.e. from effect to cause.

That such a demonstration may be possible, it is necessary that certain conditions should be fulfilled.

First, it must, if it is to be rigorous, proceed from a proper effect to its proper cause, the cause on which the effect depends necessarily and immediately. This is the cause without which, not only could the effect not have come into being, but that without which it could not now exist. So we cannot argue from the existence of a man to his father's present existence, but we can argue from it to a cause which preserves his existence, since his existence is not something which, of himself, he is bound to have; but something which might cease at any moment. Such causes are called by the Scholastics equivocal causes, since the effect produced by them is not of the same nature as the cause. Thus it is necessary for the preservation of life on this planet that the sun's rays should continually come to it, though the nature of the sun differs from that of life. Similarly, that water may be boiling and not merely come to the boil, heat must be continually applied; it will cease to vaporise if the heat be removed. If then it is steadily vaporising we can conclude that the cause of the vaporisation is present.

Such an argument from effect to cause will clearly not show what is the nature of the cause, but merely that the cause of this effect exists. The demonstration is, therefore, not one which shows why the predicate in the conclusion agrees with the subject but simply that it does so; in the case in point that the cause exists. It is what the Scholastics call a demonstratio quia not propter quid. It ends in a judgement of fact, and though the cause to whose existence we conclude is of a different nature to the effect, so that we cannot tell what it is in itself, we are not therefore deprived of all knowledge of it, since it is the cause on which the effect essentially depends; and so must have some similarity to it.

Secondly, that an argument which appeals to the principle of causality may be conclusive, it is necessary that the series of effects and causes which are considered should be a series of ƿ essentially subordinated causes which are causing in the present, not an accidentally subordinated series of causes which have caused in the past. We have implicitly stated this condition already, for such essentially subordinated causes are those which cause only in so far as each of them is, here and now, under the dominion of a superior cause, namely the one next above it in the series. In such a series the causality of each cause ceases if the causality of the one next above it ceases. So a vital action causing some effect, say motion from place to place, can only cause so long as the life-principle causes, and this can only cause so long as the temperature and other conditions of life remain normal. It would be useless to try and argue through a series of accidentally subordinated causes, causes which are only causes of the becoming of the effect, as father and son, to a cause which is necessarily required. So we cannot arrive at a first cause in the series father and son, for fathers might have generated sons for ever. There is no necessary end to this series, and consequently the arguments which prove that there is a first cause of the universe have no connection with the question whether the universe has had a beginning in time. As is well known, S. Thomas thought that reason was incapable of proving that the world was not eternal, and yet is very clear that it has a first cause. Moreover, inasmuch as we are not concerned here with a series of accidentally subordinated causes stretching back into the past, the question is freed from being involved in any complication with the controverted one as to the possibility of an actually infinite multitude, which was discussed earlier.

Thirdly, the proper cause of an effect, which when the effect is known we are obliged to posit, and behind which we cannot go, is not only the necessary cause of this effect, but also its immediate cause; so it is the man as a singer, not merely as a man who is the immediate cause of song. Thus motion will lead us to a first mover, contingent being to necessary being, and so on, and the proofs of God's existence will lead up to Divine attributes, which have afterwards to be proved to be attributes which can only belong to a Being ƿ who is Being itself; i.e. One in which essence and existence are identified; and which in consequence of this identification will be shown to be absolutely perfect, good, immutable, eternal, omniscient, distinct from the world, etc.; in a word, to be God. So as Fr. Sertillanges remarks: ' The proof of God is the work of the whole Theodicy,' and is not completed, as is sometimes supposed, in the five arguments which are given by S. Thomas to show that God exists.

These conditions for the application of the principle of causality being borne in mind, we can see that S. Thomas's statement that from any effect the existence of its proper cause can be demonstrated is justified; provided, as we have already seen is the case, the principle of causality applies to real being. For this principle, as well as those of identity and finality, and the primary ideas of being, unity, etc., as well as that of substance, are not essentially sensible, and so cannot be ideas of phenomena, but must have an ontological, and not a merely phenomenal value. The essential distinction, which we have so often remarked, between the senses and the intellect must entail an essential difference in their objects, so that being and the principles and properties which derive from it must be essentially different to phenomena, which are all that the senses can know.

But we are not dealing here with being which is divided into the ten categories, but are proposing to prove that there exists some cause which transcends all finite being. Perhaps, then, the principle of causality and the other first principles will not be applicable to such a cause, even if they are allowed to be valid for the categories of being. We seem, indeed, almost to have allowed that this is the case, for in rejecting the idea that the existence of God is self-evident, our objection was based on the ground that we do not know ' what God is '; we do not know the modes of the Divine perfections positively. Now it is necessary to observe that this objection of S. Thomas to S. Anselm's argument, and to all assertions that we can arrive at God's existence a priori, ƿ are based on his profound conviction that the nature of man is such that he must always derive his knowledge of the supersensible from the sensible, of the immaterial from the material. Thus whatever knowledge he may naturally acquire of God will be based on his knowledge of material things, of the world about him; and so, of necessity, will not be of God as He is in Himself, since this must be altogether immaterial. Nevertheless, it does not follow that man can have no knowledge about God by natural reason, even if he cannot have positive knowledge of the infinite modes of the Divine perfections (quid est). For he may be able to conclude negatively that He is not material, not finite and so on, having as a basis to work on that which he knows directly, namely, the material and the finite. Further, this via remotionis or way of negation is not the only road by which man may attain to some knowledge about God; if it be true that some, at least, of the ideas which he has derived from his knowledge of material things are of such a kind that they do not, of themselves, imply any limitation or imperfection, and are moreover seen to be applicable, though in different ways, to beings which differ essentially; i.e. if they are notions of absolute and analogical perfections. For we have seen that analogous notions are those whose name is common while the idea signified by the name is different, simply speaking, though the same in some respect, i.e. according to a certain proportion. Hence they are applicable to things which differ essentially, and yet are proportionally true of them all. Thus such notions as these, if they exist, would be able to give us knowledge of a God who is essentially distinct from finite beings; though it is true that such knowledge will never be knowledge of His nature, as it is in itself, but as it were extrinsically; in so far as we know that we can affirm of God certain perfections which we see in creatures, His nature remaining unknown with regard to the mode of the Divine perfections. So as one result of our investigation we may be able to say that in God essence and existence are identical, and that therefore the proposition ' God exists' is self-evident in itself, since God is His existence; but it will nevertheless not ƿ become self-evident to us since we cannot know His nature in itself, and so, by inspecting it, see how it is the same as His existence. We shall know the fact but not the reason of the fact, as we should do in the case of a proposition which is self-evident to us. Have we then any such ideas: ideas which express absolute and analogical perfections ? It seems plain that we have, for the ideas of being and its properties, of cause, of knowledge and love, of intellect and will, do not in themselves involve any imperfection; and are known to be analogical among finite things.

Thus the formal nature of being involves no imperfection, for it abstracts from all matter, all limitation, and is not confined to any genus or species. ' Being is not a genus,' S. Thomas often insists, and we have seen why this must be so. It is therefore an analogous, not a univocal notion; and what is true of being must be true of its properties, unity, truth, and goodness, since these are really the same as being.

Moreover, the ideas of final and efficient cause imply, in themselves, no imperfection; since, as such, they involve a relation to being as such, and are not limited to the production of any particular mode of being—as heat is to the production of warmth—but are the ' reasons of being' without any limitation or imperfection. Also, in finite things, the notion of cause is seen to be an analogical one, for it is applied analogically to the four causes, while principal and instrumental causes have the name ' cause ' applied to them in different senses, i.e. analogically. Similarly the name final cause is applied analogically in finite things to the last end in any genus, and to the intermediate subordinate ends.

The same is true of the intellect and will, for the intellect is directly related to being, the will to good, and their objects being, of themselves, unlimited and involving no imperfection, the ideas of intellect and will also imply, of themselves, no imperfection. Further being essentially related to being and good, they must be, as being and good are, analogical; and we see in finite things that both knowledge

ƿ and desire are predicated analogically of sense and intellect, and of the sensitive appetite and the intellectual appetite or will.

Thus all these notions are fitted to express analogically but properly something concerning the absolutely perfect being, concerning God. This examination of the foundations on which S. Thomas's arguments for the existence of God rest was absolutely necessary, if we are to feel secure as to the results of the arguments themselves, and not be haunted by doubts that perhaps they make some unjustifiable assumption. Even so, it is but a summary of the points upon which doubt might be cast; and though it is to be hoped that nothing essential has been omitted, it is evidently by no means exhaustive.

ƿ

CHAPTER II THE DEMONSTRATION OF THE EXISTENCE OF GOD

It is a Demonstration a posteriori—The Impossibility of an Infinite Regress in Essentially Subordinated Causes—The Argument from Motion—The Cartesian Conception of Motion—The Principle of Inertia—The Argument from Efficient Causality—The Argument from Contingence—Its Relation to Other Arguments —The Henological Argument—Its Distinction from the Ontological Argument—The Argument from Finality—The Five Classical Arguments all Lead to One and the Same Being: Subsisting Existence.

WE will consider in this chapter the Quinque Viae by which S. Thomas leads our reason to knowledge that God exists. The principles on which these five ways rest are, first, the principle of causality, and secondly, the impossibility, under certain conditions, of an infinite series.

All the proofs start with some observation concerning the things which constitute the world as known directly by the senses; and so all contain an empirical element, and are founded on experience. They are, therefore, not a priori but a posteriori proofs; unless by a priori proofs we mean such as appeal to any self-evident principle, such as the principle of causality or identity; in which case all proofs, and indeed all reasoning, even such inductive reasoning as leads to a probable conclusion, must be reckoned to be a priori. Before setting down the proofs themselves it will be convenient to explain why it is impossible to have an infinite series of essentially subordinated causes; a truth which is often referred to shortly, by means of the Aristotelean phrase, as the principle ananke stenai, i.e. it is necessary to stop at a first cause in such a series. If it is clearly understood that we are dealing with a series of causes which are actually and essentially subordinated, this principle is evident. For in a series of this kind, since each member of it ƿ is here and now dependent for its causality, and so for being a member of the series, on the actual causality of the member next before it in the series—the priority of one over the other being a priority, not of time, but of the superior over the inferior—it follows that any member of the series which we like to choose can only cause so long as it is dependent on the member next above it. If then, we were to suppose that this series went on without end, i.e. was an infinite series, we should have to say that there was no first member of it, and consequently no second or any other member. If each member of the series is a cause only as being in dependence on a superior member, no member of the series can cause if causality is never imparted to the series; in other words, if there is not a first in the series of causes. In a goods train each truck is moved and moves by the action of the one immediately in front of it. If then we suppose the train to be infinite, i.e. that there is no end to it, and so no engine which starts the motion, it is plain that no truck will move. To lengthen it out to infinity will not give it what no member of it possesses of itself, viz. the power of drawing the truck behind it. If then we see any truck in motion we know there must be an end to the series of trucks which gives causality to the whole. If no water enters the system of water pipes in a house from the main, there can be no water at the taps. To suppose that we could get causality in some cause which essentially depends for its causality on another by having an infinite series of such causes is like hoping to get water at the tap by prolonging the pipes for ever, but never connecting them up with the main.

This is evidently not true in a series of accidentally subordinated causes which form a series stretching back into the past; as in the case of a dentist who uses one instrument after another. If he was eternal this succession of instruments might go on to infinity, but we should be obliged to look outside the series to find a cause which moved all the instruments, i.e. the dentist, inasmuch as none of the instruments moves itself. Thus we see that in a series of essentially subordinated ƿ causes it is useless to prolong the series to infinity in the hope that by so doing we shall account for the presence of causality in the members of the series in which we observe it. An infinity of causes which can only cause in dependence on some other is as powerless to impart causality as one such cause would be; so that if causality is known to be exerted by any member of the series, we are bound to say that the series of dependent causes is not infinite, but begins with some first cause which is not dependent for its causality on another, but gives it to all the rest. The dependent thus demands the independent, the relative the absolute.

With these preliminaries we can now proceed to set down the ' Five Ways '; and since the object of this summary is primarily to explain the usual Thomistic teaching, it is unnecessary to apologise for giving them in a Scholastic form, in which the articulation of the arguments is most apparent; nor for retaining S. Thomas's own order, which has certain striking advantages over any other.

The First Way

There is motion in the world, as is plain from experience; but everything which is in motion is moved by another, and it is impossible to proceed to infinity in a series of movers whicn are actually and essentially subordinated; therefore there exists a first mover which is moved of none, and this we call God.

In the last phrase, which recurs equivalently at the end of each way, S. Thomas indicates that we have arrived at an attribute which is generally allowed to be a Divine attribute; that is, as the Scholastics say, that this attribute is a nominal definition of God.

What does S. Thomas mean by motion here ? The Thomists unanimously reply that he means any transit from potency to act. It is certain that' motion ' is not to be confined to local motion; rather the word is taken in its most general sense, no particular kind of mutation, whether substantial or accidental, spiritual or sensible, local or qualitative being intended in distinction from any other. That change of some kind is to be found in the universe is an ƿ empirical fact which we are forced to admit, both from internal and external experience. Even if, as Zeno contended, it were unintelligible, it would still be a fact.

In the minor there are two propositions. The first is that everything which is in motion is moved by another. This is proved as follows: movement is the passage from potency to act, therefore to be moved is to be in potency, and to move is precisely the contrary, it is to be in act. Now the same thing in the same respect cannot be both in potency and in act, and therefore everything which is moved is incapable of moving itself, and must therefore be moved by another. Hence this first proposition rests on the very notion of movement or becoming, that is, on the real distinction between potency and act and on the principle of non-contradiction.

The second proposition is that it is impossible to proceed to infinity in such a series of movers which are actually and essentially subordinated. We have seen the reason for it above; and it rests on the notion of causality itself, and not on the impossibility of an actually infinite multitude; still less, on a shrinking of the mind from the contemplation of an infinite series as such, for we have seen that an infinite series of accidentally subordinated causes is not impossible.

As has been said, the word motion here is not to be confined to local motion; if it is so confined, a difficulty arises from the conflict between the Cartesian view of motion, which is dominant in physics, and the metaphysical one. Descartes treated motion as something added to a fully actualised entity; whereas, from the point of view of metaphysics, it is, on the contrary, the passage to actualisation. Secondly, he treated it as a state; but metaphysically it cannot be considered as a state, which is a permanent condition, whereas motion is essentially transitive. So also he imagined that the motion of one body passes into another; but such an idea is not philosophically sound, for a motion, not being a complete entity in itself, cannot be handed on; all that is possible is that the force which generates and maintains motion in one body should generate a second motion in another, as occurs when two billiard balls strike. ƿ It is untrue to say that the motion of the first ball is communicated to the second: what occurs is that a new motion is generated in the second ball.

If such Cartesian conceptions of motion as these are assumed to be philosophically sound, the proposition omne quod movetur ab alio movetur would have to be abandoned in the case of local motion; and it is therefore important to notice that however helpful they may have been in physical science, and as giving us a picture of movement which is easily imagined, they are metaphysically incoherent.

A difficulty similar to these arises in connection with Newton's first law of motion, which states that every body perseveres in its state of rest or of uniform motion in a straight line, except in so far as it is compelled to change that state by impressed forces. The principle embodied in this law is called the principle of inertia; and from it would follow the conclusion that a body, under the imagined conditions, would, if started moving, go on moving for ever; so that a finite impulse would produce an infinite effect, and a body would move without being moved by another. We may notice in connection with this law that it is incapable of verification either experimentally, since we can never produce the necessary conditions; or theoretically and a priori. It is a wide induction made from certain observed facts. In so far as it asserts that an inanimate body is incapable of setting itself in motion it is indubitably true both physically and metaphysically; but the assertion that once such a body is moving it will continue to do so for ever unless stopped by impressed forces is, philosophically speaking, very doubtful. The reason why it has been accepted without question is because the Cartesian idea of motion, according to which local motion adds nothing real to a body, was already accepted. In the view of Descartes all that is acquired by local motion is a mere change of position, and there is no passage from potency to act; local motion being regarded not as a ' becoming ' but as a ' state.' Such a ' state,' being contingent, would need a conserving cause, but not a continuously operating mover. We have already seen some of the difficulties of this view; and if it is not ƿ accepted we shall have to allow that there must be some force, over and above the native forces of the body itself, which keeps it moving, i.e. passing from potency to act. John of S. Thomas regards this force as an impulse or impetus imparted to the projected body, at the moment when motion is started, by the efficient cause which initiates the motion; and which remains in it as a transient and instrumental power so long as the motion lasts. Thus as Fr. Garrigou-Lagrange says: ' The projectile is in act with respect to its dynamic quality, and in potency with respect to its local positions.'

This explanation of the motion of projectiles has had a long history, going back to Hipparchus and Themistius, a commentator on Aristotle. It evidently involves a refusal to recognise the philosophical validity of the principle of inertia in so far as this asserts that a moving body will continue in motion indefinitely unless stopped; the grounds of this refusal being that the impulse, being finite, will be exhausted in a finite time, and that local motion involves a real and continuous actuation.

To avoid this partial rejection of the principle of inertia, and because of other difficulties which he finds in the theory of an ' impulse,' Fr. Joyce has adopted another explanation, according to which there must be two orders of movers, the external or impressed forces of Newtonian physics, and a higher mover which is continuously at work as a principal cause, using the impressed mechanical forces as its instruments.

Either of these two explanations safeguards the truth of the principle "quidquid movetur, etc"; but it should be noticed that even if both of them are rejected, and local motion be considered to be not a true 'becoming' at all, S. Thomas's argument from motion is still valid; for the principle: quidquid movetur ab alio movetur will in any case apply strictly to motions of increase, or qualitative movements.

ƿ Motion and change, then, are not self-explanatory. Every movement implies a mover, and if this is also moved as well as moving, it again implies a further mover. At last, therefore, there must be a mover which is moved of none, otherwise the motions we observe could not occur.

The argument is thus quite independent of any particular physical theory of movement, whether Aristotelean or modern. It is based on the metaphysical analysis of change, of becoming, which is quite unaffected by differences of scientific outlook, so long as the principles of identity and reason of being are held to be valid.

In concluding our account of this first way, we may observe, with Cajetan, that we know no more of the source of motion by means of it than that it is an unmoved mover. S. Thomas is not here concerned to show that this mover is to be identified with the ens perfectissimum which we call God, but only that in reality there really exists an unmoved mover; and he does not concern himself with the question whether this be the ' soul of the heaven or of the world,' or anything else.

Similar remarks apply to the predicates—which are in fact Divine attributes—which are concluded to in the remaining four ways: it will therefore be unnecessary to repeat this observation in each case.

The Second Way

This way has as its starting-point, not becoming or change, ƿ but being and permanence. It argues from what is enduring in the world, and so from what may be called the static aspect of it, not the dynamic.

It observes as a fact of experience that there are in the world causes which are causes not merely of the production, but also of the conservation, of their effects. They are causes not merely in fieri, but also in esse; and, as such, must act continuously. If they cease to act the effect will cease to be. Such are all the conditions of atmospheric constitution and pressure, warmth, etc., which are necessary not only that a living thing may come into existence, but that life, and so the living thing, may be preserved. Now if such causes as these do not exist of themselves, they must, in their turn, be essentially dependent on other causes, since nothing can cause itself. We cannot, however, go on for ever in this series or ' order of causes which are essentially subordinated one to the other, for in this case, there being no first cause in the series, it could impart no causality to the series as a whole, so that there would be no causality at all, which is contrary to what we have observed. Hence there must be a first cause on which the whole series of essentially and actually subordinated causes depends, and this cause will exist of itself, and not be caused. It will be an uncaused cause; and such an uncaused cause we call God. God, then, exists.

It is evident that in this argument we are speaking of efficient causes only; and causes in esse. So each member of the series of causes possesses being solely by virtue of the actual present operation of a superior cause. In the example already given life is dependent, inter alia, on a certain atmospheric pressure, this again on the continual operation of physical forces, whose being and operation depends on the position of the earth in the solar system, which itself must endure relatively unchanged, a state of being which can only be continuously produced by a definite—if unknown —constitution of the material universe. This constitution, however, cannot be its own cause. That a thing should cause itself is impossible: for in order that it may cause it is necessary for it to exist, which it cannot do, on the hypoƿthesis, until it has been caused. So it must be in order to cause itself, and it cannot be until it has caused itself. Thus, not being uncaused nor yet its own cause, it must be caused by another, which produces and preserves it. It is plain, then, that as no member of this series possesses being except in virtue of the actual present operation of a superior cause, if there be no first cause actually operating none of the dependent causes could operate either. We are thus irresistibly led to posit a first efficient cause which, while itself uncaused, shall impart causality to a whole series.

It is even clearer in this way than in the last that the series of causes which we are considering is not one which stretches back into the past; so that we are not demanding a beginning of the world at some definite moment reckoning back from the present, but an actual cause now operating, to account for the present being of things.

The Third Way

This way starts with the observation of the contingency of the things in the world around us; that is from the fact that these beings are such that they need not exist. Thus the first way considers these beings as changing, or subject to change, the second as they are actually existing, and the third as they are capable of ceasing to exist.

It is, then, a fact of common experience that contingent beings exist; for we see all around us beings which do not always exist. Plants and animals come into existence and pass away. Chemical compounds, too, arise through the coming together of their elements, and are resolved again into their elementary constituents. Even if it be thought that there is no true novelty here, the generation and corruption of living things is sufficient for our present purpose.

If so much be granted we can establish the existence of a necessary being which exists of itself and cannot not exist.

In fact, it is clear that any existing being which can cease to exist does not contain in itself the reason of its own existence, and must therefore derive its reason of being from something else; and, in the long run, from a being which exists of itself; for we cannot proceed to infinity in a series ƿ of beings which derive their reason of being from some other. To suppose that some contingent being, or the series of such beings, is eternal, does not in any way account for their existence, or relieve us of the necessity of demanding a necessary being as the cause of such eternal existence. Even if the series is eternal, it is eternally insufficient. Moreover, as S. Thomas here points out, if the universe is constituted only of contingent beings, at some moment nothing at all existed, for such beings do not of themselves require to exist. We are forced, therefore, to ask how it comes about that anything does exist now; for it is clear that if at any moment nothing had existed nothing would exist now. Why then do contingent beings exist ? Not owing to the necessity of their own natures which of themselves demand existence, for then they would not be contingent; but—for this is the only alternative—in virtue of their production by a being which is not contingent but necessary: one which must exist of its very nature.

We are not asking as yet what is the nature of this necessary being, for, as was said before, each way leads up to some real predicate—which in fact is a Divine predicate— and to nothing more. It may, however, be as well to point out that whatever be the character of necessary being it cannot be the sum of all contingent ones, their natures being opposed in such a way that necessary being has in itself the reason of its existence, which contingent beings have not. To add together a great or even, if it were possible, an infinite number of ' have nots ' will not produce one ' have.' No addition of noughts or nothings can make something.

This way, which S. Thomas places in the centre of his five ways, is indeed central among them. In it is expressed in the clearest fashion the main theme of them all; and moreover, since its starting-point is ' being considered in itself,' and not as changing, or as an effect, or as partial, or as an end, but purely with respect to that which makes it being, its existence related to its essence, it is concerned with the very heart of metaphysics. So, while the first way starts from being in process of coming to be, the second from being which is permanent, already constituted in essence, this ƿ third way starts from the very nature of finite being considered in itself, from that whose essence is not its existence, nor implies its existence, but is really distinct from it. Thus though it is, in a sense, true that all the ' ways' constitute one argument, for all proceed by application of the same method and medium of demonstration to the same reality, finite being; yet, in another sense, they are not the same, for the aspect of this being envisaged in each is different, and they proceed by a progressively penetrating insight into its nature. Thus they differ formally, though materially they are the same.

The Fourth Way

This way has received the name of the ' henological argument,' since it argues from the multiple to the one. The starting-point in the world which is known to us through our experience is that there exist in it beings which have varying degrees of truth, goodness, and nobility, and the argument proceeds to show that there must be a being who is absolutely Good, True, and Perfect.

With regard to the characteristics which S. Thomas thus selects, we notice first, that they are transcendentals and as such are susceptible of degrees; for being is not a genus and so is not diversified by extrinsic differences as a genus is; but by being found in varying degrees. While generic and specific attributes are found in the same way in all members of a genus or species, being and the transcendentals are found in the different classes of beings in different ways. So, for example, the goodness of iron differs from that of a horse, as this does from human goodness; and clearly we have here an ascending scale of goodness. They are, in the second place, attributes which involve in themselves no limitation or imperfection, and are analogous not univocal.

The argument based on the observation of the degrees of being and the transcendentals is of Platonic origin, and may ƿ be thought to have a kind of charm not to be found in the others.

It runs as follows: There exist in the world things which have more or less truth, more or less goodness, more or less being; the transcendental aspects of being are found in reality in a hierarchically graded order. Now, when a concept which implies no imperfection is found realised in different degrees in different beings, none of those which have it in a more limited degree can account for its own possession of this perfection, but must derive it from some being which possesses it in an unlimited degree, and which is this very perfection. Consequently, since we do in fact find these perfections in a limited degree, there must exist also a Being who is Being, Goodness and Truth itself; and this we call God.

There are implicit in this ' dialectic of love,' as Fr. Garrigou-Lagrange calls it, two principles of whose truth it is necessary that we should be fully convinced.

The first is; If one and the same characteristic is found in several beings, it is impossible that each of them should possess it of itself, and they therefore receive it from some other, which is unity. Multiplicity is inexplicable without a unity as its cause. S. Thomas shows the truth of this. He says: ' If any one thing is found as a common characteristic in many things, it must be caused in them by some one cause; for it is impossible that it should belong to each of them of itself, since each as it is in itself is distinct from any other, and the diversity of causes produces diversity of effects.' By hypothesis, the things in which the common characteristic is found are of themselves different, and therefore they cannot of themselves be the same. That which constitutes them, constitutes them as distinct, and cannot therefore also constitute them as not distinct, that is as one. As we saw earlier, to assert that things which are of themselves diverse can, of themselves, also be one, is to be led to a denial of the principle of identity. ' Quae secundum se diversa sunt non conveniunt in aliquod unum, nisi per aliquam causam ƿ adunantem ipsa.' So multiplicity demands unity as its cause.

The second principle implicit in the proof asserts that gradation of perfection, like multiplication of it, demands as its cause some being which possesses it of. itself. This is complementary of the first; and is expressed exactly by saying: if a characteristic, whose concept does not imply imperfection, is found in some being in an imperfect state, this being does not possess it of itself, but receives it from some other which possesses it of itself.

It is seen to be true if we consider that in any kind of perfection which does not imply imperfection and which admits degrees, anything which has not the highest degree of perfection, but something less, has not that perfection by virtue of its nature, for what belongs to a thing of its nature cannot be lessened or deficient. A thing either has a certain nature or not, it cannot have the nature in a greater or less degree, though it may have a less or greater power of exercising its natural functions. Consequently any being which possesses such a perfection as these of which we are speaking in a limited degree, cannot possess it of its own nature, and therefore must receive it from some other, and, in the last resort, from some other which possesses this perfection of its own nature.

This argument, then, following the lead of Plato, passes from the fact of imperfection, of potentiality, in the world about us, to the existence of a Being who is absolutelyperfect, and in which there is no potentiality; which is Pure Act.

It is not to be confused with the Ontological argument, for it does not, from the analysis of the idea of imperfection conclude that the absolutely perfect being must exist; but starting with fact of multiplication and gradation of imperfections shows that they must have a unified and absolutely perfect cause. S. Anselm rightly thought that if an infinite being is possible it must exist, but did not observe that we cannot know its possibility either by intuition or a priori, and therefore must base our argument on what we do know by experience; which is the procedure here adopted by ƿ S. Thomas to arrive at the existence of the absolutely perfect being.

Thus, like the three preceding arguments, it rests on a fact of experience, for the interpretation of which we call in the principle of causality. It no doubt enriches the content of our idea of God considerably, by adding to the attributes of unmoved mover, first efficient cause and necessary being—attributes which sound absolutely impersonal and even inanimate—those of Goodness, Truth, Unity, and fullness of Being or perfection.

The Fifth Way

The argument we have just considered prepares the way for this last proof given by S. Thomas; which, in its turn, supplements and completes the preceding ones. As the fourth way passes from multiplicity to unity, this proceeds from the ordered multiplicity of the world to an ordering intelligence. Whether we are to call it the argument from design depends on what is meant by that name, for it certainly is not the same as that which is often associated with the name of Paley.

It is stated very succinctly by S. Thomas. He says: We see that some things which lack cognition act on account of an end, which appears from the fact that they always, or at least in the majority of cases, act in the same way in order to attain what is best for them. From this it is clear that it is not by chance, but as a result of intention that they thus attain their end. Now those things which have no knowledge, do not tend towards an end unless they are directed by some being who has knowledge and intelligence, as the arrow is directed by the archer. Therefore there exists some intelligent being, by which all natural things, things which lack cognition, are directed to their end, and this being we call God.

Fr. Garrigou-Lagrange expresses the argument in a short syllogism. ' A means cannot be directed towards an end except by an intelligent cause. But there exist in nature, among beings which are destitute of intelligence, means ƿ which are directed to ends. Therefore nature is the effect of an intelligent cause.'

S. Thomas is here appealing to the fact of internal finality, not external; to the finality which is observable in trungs destitute of intelligence taken separately; as that the eye is directed to seeing, the ear to hearing, wings to night. External finality, the purpose of some noxious animal, such as a viper, or of a disease germ, is often difficult to discover; whereas internal finality, such as the purpose of the organs of the body, is plain.

But even this internal finality has often been denied, especially by those who uphold the theory of mechanistic evolution in its entirety. We have seen earlier, however, that this explanation is incapable of accounting for the origin of variations except by chance, and has no explanation to offer either of evolution itself, or of the perfection of the evolutionary process. To appeal to chance is, however, not to explain, but to abandon explanation, and to say that everything comes about by chance is really to assert something unintelligible or absurd. For if everything is by chance and nothing by rule, there is nothing to which chance can occur. I may chance to meet my friend in the street, but only if I am walking along in it in a definite way. If nothing occurs in any definite way, nothing can occur by chance or in an accidental way. It is in this sense that the ' exception proves the rule.' If there is no rule there can be no exception: if there is nothing essential there can be nothing accidental or by chance.

But even if such finality be admitted, is it certain that it must be attributed to an intelligence ? The answer is that the finality which we observe in nature is direction of operations to ends, precisely as ends, i.e. in view of the end to be attained. The means are related to the ends precisely in so far it is in the ends that they have their reason of being; their whole constitution is directed towards the attainment of these ends. Such a relation as this can evidently only be known and established by a being who knows the reasons of being of things; that is to say, by an intelligent being.

ƿ We are now in a position to draw together the results of the five classical arguments for the existence of God. They lead us to five attributes which, in fact, are proper to God; namely: primum movens, primum efficiens, primum necessarium, primum et maxime ens, primum gubernans intelligendo. These attributes can, in fact, only belong to a being whose essence and existence are identical; and the proof of the existence of God is essentially incomplete until this has been shown to be true; and we have seen that these attributes belong, and are peculiar to, a being who stands at the meeting- point of the five ways.

(1) The first mover, since it is unmoved, does not pass from potency to act with regard to its action; its action is always in act, and contains no element of potentiality. Now the mode of action of a thing is a consequence of its mode of being; hence, if the first mover is pure act in the order of operation, it will be so also in the order of being. That this may be true it must contain no potentiality in its being, and therefore will not have a nature which is merely capable of existing, so standing to existence in the relation of potency to act. It will, therefore, be of the nature of the first mover to exist, it will exist essentially, its essence will be identified with its existence. This conclusion is confirmed by the fourth way where it is shown that whatever is in a thing without belonging to it as a proper constituent of it, is caused in it. For wherever there is diversity and composition we are in the presence of the conditioned and not the unconditional: this is only arrived at where there is pure identity. Hence that alone can exist of itself whose existence constitutes it, which is existence itself.

(2) The first cause, being uncaused, must contain in itself the reason of its own existence. Now it cannot cause itself, since to do so it must be, and it cannot be, on this hypothesis, except as the effect of being already. Thus to suppose that it receives existence from itself is contradictory, and being uncaused, it cannot receive it from any other; and so does not receive it at all, but is existence. Its existence is its essence.

ƿ

(3) Necessary being, which is absolutely incapable of not existing, must have existence as an essential predicate. It does not receive existence, but is existence. Its existence is its essence.

(4) The Supreme Being, as we have pointed out above (cf. (1)), cannot be composite, and so cannot have a share of existence; but its existence must be constitutive of it, so that its essence will be existence.

(5) With regard to the first intelligence, who ordains all things, it may, perhaps, be maintained that if the teleological argument be considered quite apart from the other arguments, it does not establish anything more than the existence of a most powerful intelligence, which is capable of constructing the order of things, not an intelligence of infinite power. But, first, there is not the slightest reason for dissociating this argument from the others, and as we have already proved that there exists an absolutely perfect being on which all nature depends, the proof that there exists a supreme intelligence is confirmatory of this; secondly, if we see what is required of such a supreme intelligence we shall be obliged to say that it must be Pure Act, for if it were essentially related to an object of intelligence, distinct from itself, such a relation would, in virtue of the teleological argument itself, have to be produced by a higher intelligence, and finally by one which was not so extrinsically related to being, but was Being itself and Pure Act.

We see, therefore, that the five ways all lead up to a Being in which essence and existence are identical, and which exists of its very nature. This is made particularly clear in the third way which shows the existence of Necessary Being, and we find here the essential distinction between God and the world, inasmuch as in God alone are essence and existence identical. It is therefore not true to say that the arguments do not lead us to a transcendent God, distinct from the world. As this God is also seen to be absolutely unchangeable, wholly perfect, subsisting Being, Truth and Goodness, and the Supreme Intelligence which is the source of all order in the world, we have evidently arrived at the existence of God as He is conceived of by Theists.

Notes by Phillips