On reflection, Beneditx felt some relief at the failure of his a priori proof. If the a priori proof were really unanswerable, then it would be difficult to see how to defend anyone who had ever heard it from the charge of apostasy from the truth. Beneditx, who was a man of the utmost gentleness, revolted from the idea that by putting an indefeasible proposition to his opponent he had entrapped him into condemnation. Seen in that light, it might appear that he was engaged in a lethal trick, played upon a helpless fellow man. But St Thomas had rejected the ontological proof, very fortunately. Beneditx knew his books. He knew also the peril in which Palinor stood. The Church was not likely to persecute an adherent of a strange religion, merely for having been born in the wrong country, having learned a false creed, being ignorant of the truth. Such a person could be in good faith; and in good faith or not, did not affront the pious true believer unless he proselytized. But a person who had once received the truth, who had been a member of the Holy Catholic Church, fell for ever under her jurisdiction. For someone who has known the word of God to reject it, then pursue false gods, there is no defence. The sin of rejecting the truth once it is known is so terrible that those who commit it must be hunted down, forced to admit their guilt, and punished by death. Beneditx had never doubted this.
The contumacious and rebellious folk who brought this down upon themselves were usually Christian heretics – Cathars, Donatists, Pelagians, or the nameless confused who were seized of some garbled version, some misunderstood doctrine, and refused to be corrected and chastened by their Holy Mother, the Church. Beneditx, who had seen every possible confusion arising among his students at the Galilea, who had seen how swiftly a thinking man needs guidance, and who knew very well how little teaching the common people had from their parish priests, felt as much sympathy for error and hatred of inquisition as any man could.
The problem was that Palinor could not avail himself of the argument that any Saracen or exotic foreigner could use – that he was of another allegiance, and outside the scope of the Church. Not, that is, if what he was denying was not some particular part of the teaching of the Church, but something known to all men, either by innate illumination, or by the light of natural reason. It simply was not open to him to deny God. It was a most impudent and terrible blasphemy, worse than any heresy about the nature of Christ, or the foreknowledge of God, or free will or any such thing. And what excuse could be imagined for such an error in such a man? Not for him the exculpation of the stupid, that he had been misled, mistaught.
But of course, if Beneditx could convert him by force of reason, the question of what he ought always and from birth to have known would have only a historical interest, being overtaken by a present enlightenment. Beneditx could not believe that the pleasant and intelligent man who confronted him could really be unconvincible – Beneditx was a man who had faith in reason. He set about preparing to expound the proofs St Thomas did think valid; there were five of them, when one, surely, should be enough. And having prepared himself, he went cheerfully to his next encounter with Palinor.
In a green and shady garden walk, with a brooklet channelled to run beside it, making a pleasant sound beside their steps, the two men walked slowly. ‘Firstly, nothing in nature moves, unless it be moved by something else,’ Beneditx opened. ‘As a rod that is brandished is moved by a man who holds it. But this mover must itself be moved by some other thing, and that other thing by yet another . . . This cannot go on endlessly, receding to infinity, because then there would be no first mover, and consequently no other mover. Therefore it is necessary to arrive at a first mover, put in motion by no other, and this everyone understands to be God.’
‘I am to answer this?’ asked Palinor.
‘Wait; I will lay three stout foundations of belief before you, and you will see if you are not convinced by them.’
‘I am in your hands, my friend,’ said Palinor. He spoke gravely, but with an undertow of affection, amusement almost. He was experiencing the pleasure a cultivated adult feels in the presence of a marvellous child, whose perception is acute, and innocent. Besides, nobody could mistake the eagerness Beneditx evinced in his efforts to persuade him, or fail to see how well-meaning, how would-be benign, was the attempt. Obviously Palinor could see more clearly than Beneditx how hard a thing was being embarked upon; but as in the case of the romantic ambitions of a child, it was kinder not to be too crushing.
‘So, secondly,’ Beneditx continued, ‘in the sensible world around us, we find that there are chains of causation. One thing causes another thing, and in its turn is the effect of some previous cause. Nothing can be its own cause, for to do so it would have to be prior to itself, which is impossible. But it is not possible for the chain of causes to recede to infinity, because then there would be no first cause, and therefore no effects, since to remove the cause is to remove the effect. The presence to our senses, therefore, of causes and effects compels us to put forward an uncaused cause, a first efficient cause, to which everyone gives the name of God.
‘Thirdly, we find in nature things that could either exist or not exist, since they are generated and then corrupted, they are born and then die. It is impossible for these always to exist, for that which can one day cease to exist must at some time not have existed. Therefore, if everything could cease to exist, then at one time there could have been nothing in existence. If this were true, then even now there would be nothing in existence, because that which does not exist comes into being by something already existing. Therefore, if at one time nothing was in existence, it would be impossible for anything to come into existence, and thus even now nothing would exist, which is absurd. Therefore, not all beings are merely possible, but there must exist something the existence of which is necessary. But a necessary thing has its necessity caused by something else; and we cannot go to infinity in a chain of necessary things, as we saw in relation to movers and to causes, so we cannot but postulate the existence of some being having of itself its own necessity and not receiving it from another, but rather causing in others their necessity. This all men speak of as God.’
There was a silence while Palinor contemplated this. They reached the end of the garden walk, where it opened upon a prospect down the valley, a widening and gently sloping outlook on orange orchards and the silvery green colour of the olive trees beyond, lightening and darkening in the breeze of morning like wind on lake-water.
‘These arguments amount to the same,’ said Palinor. ‘Everything that moves is moved by something else; therefore there is something which moves everything that moves. Every effect is brought about by a cause; therefore there is some cause which has brought about every effect. Or, to continue, every road goes somewhere, therefore there is somewhere to which every road goes; every river has a source, therefore there is some spring which is the source of every river ; every son has a mother, therefore there is someone who is mother to every son; every tool serves a purpose, therefore there is a purpose which is served by every tool . . . Need I go on?’
‘Wait,’ said Beneditx. ‘You speak like a man who, seeing that a twig springs from a branch and that many twigs spring from many branches, denies the existence of a trunk to the tree. Follow the multiplicity back and back, and you will find the single trunk.’
‘Follow it further and you will find the dividing multiplicity of roots. And stand back, you will find the tree one of thousands in the forest. The trouble here, Beneditx, is that you assert that things in the world around us are impossible, and require an explanation, and you offer God as the explanation. But the world around us is not, to me, in doubt, nor does it stand in need of explanation. It seems to me that what exists before our eyes and to our touch and taste and smell is possible; and what is possible is not impossible. Whereas I do not see a need for God.’
‘You will,’ said Beneditx, in sudden passion. ‘I will bring you the proofs from degree and design – you will see!’