It was a lovely day. The sun was out, and although the days were still short, it provided some warmth in the brief afternoon. I was strolling across the heath with my friend the Reverend William Paley, philosopher and natural theologist. That we could be friends reflects on our generous tolerances. That we could be different was apparent in our costumes. I was attired in a Dublin tweed overcoat and newsboy cap. Beneath the long coat, I wore plain blue jeans. The good Reverend wore a black frock coat with narrow collar and sported a stiff tricorne, all of it black, and underneath he wore knee-high breeches. The Reverend saw a stone that looked out of place in our path and kicked it to one side. Shortly thereafter, he saw another stone similarly out of place. He was about to kick it as well, but paused. "Hello, look at what I find here," said the Reverend. I looked to see a pocket watch. He had lifted it from the ground and presented it to where we could both examine it. "I wonder how the watch came to be in this place?" "Dropped from the pocket of a hiker, I suspect," said I. The Reverend said, “Clearly you don't see the ramifications. When we come to inspect the watch, we perceive what could not be discovered in a stone. That its several parts are framed and put together for a purpose, and if they had been differently shaped from what they are, or of a different size from what they are, or in any other order, than that in which they are placed, either no motion at all would have been carried on in the machine, or none which would have answered the use that is now served by it.” “I would not contest that,” said I. The Reverend added, “Surely, as we accept the existence of the watch-maker, we must similarly accept that of a universe-maker?” “What! What? What are you saying?” I asked. “I can contemplate the watch having a maker, but how many makers were involved in its development would require too much research. A universe-maker? Might there not be more than one? If we investigate, can we learn who their mothers were?” “You josh, Sir. The machine we are inspecting demonstrates this by its construction, contrivance, and design, that it must have had a maker, must have had a contriver, and design must have had a designer.” “I would not argue that,” said I. “Then how is it you do not believe in a God, professing to be an atheist, for every indication of contrivance, every manifestation of design, which existed in the watch, exists in the works of nature?” “I hardly think so,” said I. “The contrivances of nature surpass the contrivances of art, in the complexity, subtlety, and curiosity of the mechanism,” the Reverend declared. Spreading his arms wide to indicate the entire heath and the sky above, he said, “How can you not acknowledge that if Creation looms all about us, that it doesn’t have a creator? You have, a moment ago, agreed, contrivance must have had a contriver, design a designer, therefore, Creation has to have a creator.” “And you are contriving to play a game of semantics with me, Reverend? If all this,” and I spread my arms to take in the same area he had designated, “is to be called Creation, you beg the question, petitio principii, because the word Creation assumes a creator. If all of this,” and again I swung around my arms, “is bullshit, it would assume a bull. I do not and will not call nature Creation.” I might have been too harsh, laughing a little too loudly, for Reverend Paley grew red in the face. “You sincerely cannot see contrivance and design in nature, Sir? Take an eye, for example, and compare it with a telescope. As far as the examination of the instrument goes, there is precisely the same proof that the eye was made for vision, as there is that the telescope was made for assisting it.” “The eye evolved for vision. It was not made. But alas, you have not yet read Darwin. And by your definition, Reverend, you don’t have a means for distinguishing between the eye and the telescope, or for that matter, between the watch and the stone. You cannot discern a difference?” That hushed the Reverend. We continued our walk in mutual silence. But I know the Reverend Paley. He will intentionally forget and make the same argument again and again, even though David Hume had long ago put the last nail into the coffin of this argument. We settled back into our general tolerances because we both enjoyed a good walk through nature. I noticed that he pocketed the watch, whereas the stone he had kicked away.
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Enshrined
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