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<h2> THE ACT OF GOD. </h2>
<p>A CURIOUS litigation has just been decided at the Spalding County Court.
The Great Northern Railway was sued for damages by a farmer, who had sent
a quantity of potatoes to London shortly before Christmas, which were not
delivered for nearly ten days, and were then found to be spoiled by the
frost. The Company's defence was that a dense fog prevailed during the
Christmas week, and disorganised the traffic; that everything was done to
facilitate the transit of goods; and that, as the fog was the act of God,
there was no liability for damage by delay. After an hour's deliberation,
the jury returned a verdict for the defendants, and judgment was given
them with costs.</p>
<p>We sincerely pity that Lincolnshire farmer. It is very hard lines to
receive only thirteen and fourpence for four tons of potatoes; and harder
still to pay the whole of that sum, and a good deal more, for attempting
to obtain compensation. The poor man is absolutely without a remedy. The
person who delayed and rotted his potatoes is called God, but no one knows
where he resides, and it is impossible to serve a summons upon him, even
if a court of justice would grant one. God appears to be the chartered
libertine of this planet. He destroys what he pleases, and no one is able
to make him pay damages.</p>
<p>Christians may call this "blasphemous." But calling names is no argument.
Certainly it will not pay for that farmer's potatoes. We fail to see where
the blasphemy comes in. An English judge and jury have accepted the Great
Northern Railway Company's plea that the fog was the act of God. We simply
take our stand upon their verdict and judgment. And we tell the Christians
that if God sent the fog—as the judge and jury allow—he has a
great deal more to answer for than four tons of rotted potatoes. That
terrible fog cost London a gas bill amounting to twenty or thirty thousand
pounds. It is impossible to estimate the cost to the community of delayed
traffic and suspended business. Hundreds of people were suffocated or
otherwise slaughtered. Millions of people were made peevish or brutally
ill-tempered, and there was a frightful increase of reckless profanity.</p>
<p>Many persons, doubtless, will say that God did <i>not</i> send the fog.
They will assert that it came in the ordinary course of nature. But does
nature act independently of God? Is he only responsible for <i>some</i> of
the things that happen? And who is responsible for the rest?</p>
<p>Those who still believe in the Devil may conveniently introduce him, it is
curious, however, that they never do, except in cases of <i>moral</i>
evil. Criminal indictments charge prisoners with acting wickedly under the
instigation of the Devil. But <i>physical</i> evil is ascribed to Jehovah.
Bills of lading exonerate shipowners from liability if anything happens to
the cargo through "the act of God or the Queen's enemies." Old Nick does
not raise storms, stir up volcanoes, stimulate earthquakes, blight crops,
or spread pestilence. All those destructive pastimes are affected by his
rival. Even cases of sudden death, or death from lightning are brought in
by jurors as "died by the visitation of God." Which seems to show that a
visit from God is a certain calamity.</p>
<p>The time will come, of course, when all this nonsense about "the act of
God" will disappear. But it will only dissappear because real belief in
God is dying. While men are sincere Theists they cannot help seeing God in
the unexpected and the calamitous. That is how theology began, and that is
how it must continue while it has a spark of vitality. But theology
declines as knowledge increases. Our dread of the unknown diminishes as we
gain command over the forces of nature; that is, our dread of the unknown
diminishes as we turn it into the <i>known</i>.</p>
<p>"The act of God" is to be frustrated by Science. We cannot prevent storms,
but we are growing more able to foresee them. We cannot prevent the angry
waves from rising, but we can build ships to defy their fiercest wrath. We
cannot prevent mist from ascending in certain conditions of sky and soil,
but we can drain low-lying ground, and prevent the mist from being fatally
charged with smoke. We cannot abolish the microbes with which our planet
swarms, and if we could we should be surrounded with intolerable
putrifaction; but we can observe the laws of public and private
sanitation, maintain a high state of vitality, and make ourselves
practically invulnerable.</p>
<p>Science is the instrument for achieving the triumph of man. Ultimately it
will subdue the planet for us, and we shall be able to exclaim with Mr.
Swinburne, "Glory to man in the highest, for man is the master of things."
The paradise the theologians dream of will be realised on earth. We shall
not abolish death, but we shall make life strong, rich, and glorious, and
when death comes it will bring no terror, but rest and peace in the shadow
of its wings.</p>
<p>Meanwhile "the act of God" will to some extent survive in the mental life
of the multitude. All prayer is based upon this superstition. Those who
pray for relief or exemption from storm, famine, or disease; those who
pray to be preserved from "battle, murder, and sudden death"; those who
pray to be saved from any evil, are, all praying against "the act of God."
It is God who is sending the mischief, and therefore he is begged to take
it away or pass it on to other persons. Hamburg would be grateful to God
even if he transferred the cholera to Berlin. Thus do ignorance and
selfishness go hand in hand; thus does superstition cloud the intellect
and degrade the character.</p>
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