the being of God

 We may certainly argue the being of God from the consent of parts in the world, and their perpetual confederations to support the whole.—Confusion is the effect of chance, but order is the product of art and industry. When we consider, in a watch, how the different wheels, by their unequal motions, agree in distinguishing the hours, and with that exactness, as if they were inspired by the same intelligence, we presently conclude it to be the work of an artificer; for certainly pieces of brass could never have formed and united themselves into that method: proportionably, when we view the harmony of all things in the world, and how disagreeing natures conspire together for the advantage of the whole, we may collect [that] there is a Divine Spirit, which hath thus disposed all things. We will not make a curious inquiry into this; an eminent degree of knowledge in several faculties would but imperfectly discover the proportion and measures which the Eternal Mind hath observed in the frame of nature, it will suffice to glance at those which are exposed to the view of all.

(1.) The sun, which is the eye and soul of the world, in its situation and motion, is a sign to us [that] there is wisdom and counsel in its Author.* It is fixed in the midst of the planets, that it may dispense its light and heat for the advantage of the lower world. If it were placed in a higher or lower orb, the jarring elements (which by its influence are kept in an equal poise and proportion) would break forth into disorders; and those invisible chains and connexions which fasten the parts of nature would presently be broken. The regularity and constancy of its motion discover a Deity. By its course from east to west, it causes the agreeable vicissitude of day and night, and maintains the amiable war of light and darkness. This distinction of time is necessary for the pleasure and profit of the world: the sun, by its rising, chases away the shades of the night, to delight us with the beauties of the creation; it is God's herald, which calls us forth to the discharge of our work. This governs our labours, and conducts our industry. (Psalm 104:22, 23.) This animates nature, and conveys a pleasure even to those beings which are insensible. Without the day, the world would be a fatal and disconsolate grave to all creatures; a chaos without order, action, or beauty. Thus by the sun-beams we may clearly see a Divine Providence. Besides, when it retires from us, and a curtain of darkness is drawn over the world, that proves the wisdom and goodness of God. The Psalmist attributes the disposition of day and night to God: "The day is thine;" and with an emphasis, "the night also is thine." (Psalm 74:16.) Notwithstanding its sad appearance, yet it is very beneficial: its darkness enlightens us; its obscurity makes visible the ornaments of heaven, the stars, their aspects, their dispositions, their motions, which were hid in the day; it unbends the world, and gives a short and necessary truce to its labours; it recreates the wasted spirits; it is the nurse of nature, which pours into its bosom those sweet and cooling dews which beget new life and vigour. The Divine Providence is also eminent in the manner of this dispensation; for the sun, finishing its course about the world in the space of twenty-four hours, causes that succession of day and night which doth most fitly temper our labour and repose; whereas if the day and night should each of them continue six entire months, this division would be very inconvenient for us.*

We may farther observe a wise Providence, in the diversity it hath used to lengthen and shorten the days and nights for the advantages of several countries: for, that part of the earth which is under the line, being scorched with immoderate heat, wants a continual supply of moisture; therefore the longest and coolest nights are there: but it is otherwise in the northern parts; for, the beams of the sun being very feeble there, Providence hath so disposed, that the days are extremely long, that so, by the continuance of the heat, the fruits may come to maturity and perfection.

And as the difference of day and night, so the diversity of seasons, proceeds from the motion of the sun; which is a work of Providence no less admirable than the former. As the motion of the sun from east to west makes the day and night, so from north to south causes summer and winter.* By these the world is preserved; summer crowns the earth with flowers and fruits, and produces an abundant variety for the support of living creatures. The winter, which seems to be the death of nature, robbing the earth of its heat and life, contributes also to the universal good: it prepares the earth, by its cold and moisture, for the returning sun. In the succession of these seasons, the Divine Providence is very conspicuous: for, since the world cannot pass from one extreme to another without a dangerous alteration, to prevent this inconvenience, the sun makes its approaches gradually to us; the spring is interposed between the winter and summer, that, by its gentle and temperate heat, it may dispose our bodies for the excess of summer; and in the same manner the sun retires by degrees from us, that so in the autumn we may be prepared for the asperities of the winter.

And, to close this part of the argument, the invariable succession of times and seasons is a token of the same Providence. The sun, which runs ten or twelve millions of leagues every day, never fails one minute of its appointed time, nor turns an inch out of its constant course; but inviolably observes the same order; so that there is nothing more regular, equal, and constant, than the succession of day and night. To ascribe this to hazard, is the most absurd extravagance; for in the effects of chance there is neither order nor constancy; as we may see in the casting of a die, which hardly falls twice together upon the same square. It is necessary therefore to conclude, that an intelligent principle guides the revolutions of the sun thus uniformly for the advantage of the world. "The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament showeth his handywork. Day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto night showeth knowledge. There is no speech nor language, where their voice is not heard." (Psalm 19:1–3.) What is that "language" and "voice," but an universal sermon to the world of God's being and excellency?

(2.) Let us now consider that vast extent of air, which fills the space between heaven and earth. This is of so pure a nature, that in a moment it transmits the influences of heaven to the lower world. This serves as an arsenal for thunders and lightnings, whereby God summons the world to dread and reverence. This is a treasury for the clouds; which, dissolving in gentle showers, refresh the earth, and call forth its seeds into flourishing and fruitfulness. This fans the earth with the wings of the wind, allaying those intemperate heats which would be injurious to its inhabitants. This is the region for the birds, wherein they pass as so many self-moving engines praising the Creator. This serves for the breath and life of man. From hence we may conclude the wisdom of a God, who so governs the several regions of the air, as by them to convey blessings for the necessities of man, and to send judgments for the awakening [of] the secure to seek after God.

(3.) Let us now descend to the sea, and see how that informs us [that] there is a God. It is a truth evident to reason, that the proper place of the waters is next to the air, above the earth; for as it is of a middle nature between these two elements, being purer and lighter than the earth, but more gross and heavy than the air, so it challenges a situation between them; that as the air on all parts encompasses the sea, in like manner the sea should overspread the earth, and cover the whole surface of it: that its natural inclination is such, appears by its continual flowings. Who then hath arrested its course, and stopped its violence? Who hath confined it to such a place and compass, that it may not be destructive to the world? Certainly, no other but the great God who first gave it being and. motion. Besides, that which renders the power of God more conspicuous is, that by so weak a bridle as the sand its rage is bounded. When it threatens the shore with its insulting waves, you would fear lest it should swallow up all; but it no sooner touches the sand, but its fury is turned into froth: it retires, and, by a kind of submission, respects those bounds which are fixed by the Creator. Now, that the fiercest element should be repressed by the feeblest thing in the world, and that which breaks the rocks be limited by the sands, is a wonder of providence; therefore the Lord alleges this as an effect only proceeding from his power, and challenges an incommunicable glory upon this account: "Who shut up the sea with doors, when it brake forth, as if it had issued out of the womb? when I made the cloud the garment thereof, and thick darkness a swaddling-band for it, and brake up for it my decreed place, and set bars and doors, and said, Hitherto shalt thou come, but no farther: and here shall thy proud waves be stayed?" (Job 38:8–11.)

Besides, its extent is no less worthy of admiration: it washes the four parts of the world; and so it is the bond of the universe, by which the most distant nations are united; the medium of commerce and trade, which brings great delight and advantage to men; by it the commodities which are peculiar to several countries are made common to all. Thus may we trace the evident prints of a Deity in the very waters.

(4.) If we change the scene, and view the earth, we may perceive clear signs of a Divine Providence. If we consider its position: it hangs in the midst of the air, that it may be a convenient habitation for us; or its stability: the air itself is not able to bear up a feather, yet the earth remains in it fixed and unshaken, notwithstanding the storms and tempests which continually beat upon it: from hence we must conclude [that] an invisible but powerful hand supports it. It is reckoned amongst the magnalia Dei ["great works of God"]: "Where wast thou when I laid the foundations of the earth? declare, if thou hast understanding. Who hath laid the measures thereof, if thou knowest? or who hath stretched the line upon it? Whereupon are the foundations thereof fastened? or who laid the corner-stone thereof?" (Job 38:4–6.) Moreover, the various disposition of its parts, the mountains, the valleys, the rivers, which are as the veins which convey nourishment to this great body, all intimate [that] there is a God.*

Thus if we behold the excellent order of the parts of the world, their mutual correspondence for their several ends,—the heavens give light, the air breath, the earth habitation, the sea commerce,—we must break forth: "There is a God, and this is his work."† But how few are there who read the name of God, which is indelibly printed on the frame of nature; who see the excellency of the cause in the effect; who contemplate all things in God, and God in all things! From our first infancy, we are accustomed to these objects; and the edge of our apprehensions is rebated. The commonness of things takes away our esteem: we rather admire things new than great; the effects of art, than the marvels of nature. As the continual view of a glittering object dazzles the eye, that it cannot see; so by the daily presence of these wonders, our minds are blunted, we lose the quickness and freshness of our spirits.

(5.) I shall finish this argument by reflecting upon man, who is a short abridgment of the world. The composure of his body, the powers of his soul, convince us of a wise Providence. Who but a God could unite such different substances, an immaterial spirit with an earthly body? Who could distinguish so many parts; assign to them their form, situation, temperature; with an absolute fitness for those uses to which they serve?‡ We must join with the apostle: "He is not far from every one of us:" we may find him in the activity of our hands, in the beauty of our eyes, in the vivacity of all our senses: "in him we live, move, and have our being." (Acts 17:27, 28.) And, to look inward, who hath endued the soul with such distinct and admirable faculties?—the understanding, which exercises an empire on all things; which compounds the most disagreeing, and divides the most intimate; which by the lowest effects ascends to the highest cause: the will, which with such vigour pursues that which we esteem amiable and good, and recoils with aversation from that [which] we judge pernicious and evil: the memory, which preserves, fresh and lively, the pictures of those things which are committed to its charge. Certainly, after this consideration, we must naturally assent [that] there is a God who "made us, and not we ourselves." (Psalm 100:3.)