The Story of Creation as Told By Theology and By Science is a Webnovel created by T. S. Ackland.
This lightnovel is currently completed.
We come now to the consideration of the origin of man, which Mr.
Darwin, in his last work, ascribes also to natural and s.e.xual selection. His view is, that man is descended from some family of anthropomorphous apes, and that all those enormous differences which, as he admits, exist between the highest ape and the most degraded member of the human race, are differences of degree only, and not of kind; that all our intellectual wealth, and all our moral laws, are simply the development of faculties and ideas which were possessed in a ruder form by the creatures from whom man is descended.
So far as man’s physical const.i.tution is concerned, there is undoubtedly something to be said in favour of this view. For man’s bodily frame is composed of the same elements, and moulded upon the same general plan as that of the higher apes, and, what is still more remarkable, it retains, in a rudimentary form, certain muscles and organs which are fully developed and answer important purposes in many of the quadrumana. Of these the tail is a remarkable instance. But when the differences between the physical peculiarities of man, and those of his supposed progenitors are examined, the theory of natural selection collapses entirely, for the development has taken the form which would be most disadvantageous in the struggle of life. This is very clearly put by the Duke of Argyll.[Footnote: “Recent Speculations on Primeval Man,” in Good Words, April, 1868.]
“The unclothed and unprotected condition of the human body, its comparative slowness of foot; the absence of teeth adapted for prehension or for defence; the same want of power for similar purposes in the hands and fingers; the bluntness of the sense of smell, so as to render it useless for the detection of prey which is concealed;–all these are features which stand in fixed and harmonious relation to the mental powers of man. But, apart from these, they would place him at an immense disadvantage in the struggle for existence. This, therefore, is not the direction in which the blind forces of selection could ever work …. Man must have had human proportions of mind before he could afford to lose b.e.s.t.i.a.l proportions of body.”
But it is in the intellectual and spiritual part of man’s nature that the greatest difficulty in the way of the application of these theories arises. The strongest argument of all against them is one which is incapable of proof, since it arises not from facts around us, but from our own self-consciousness–our realization of our own powers–and so, to each individual man it must vary in apparent strength, in proportion as he realizes what he is, and what it is in his power to become. The very outcry that has been raised against Mr. Darwin’s proposition is a proof of this. The theory of the descent of man, as he propounds it, was felt to be an outrage upon the universal instincts of humanity. But, because this objection rests upon such a foundation, it is incapable of being duly weighed and investigated as an argument, and we proceed therefore to such considerations as are within our reach.
First of all it is desirable to dispose of one of the stock arguments in favour of the theory. That argument is, that the difference between the lowest type of savage and the highest type of civilized man–between a Fuegian or an Australian on the one hand, and a Newton, a Shakspeare, or a Humboldt, on the other,–is quite as great as that between the higher forms of ape and the lowest forms of humanity. But in this argument there is a fatal confusion of ideas. The capacity for acquisition is confounded with the opportunity for acquisition. That the savage is in possession of but very few ideas does not prove that he is incapable of more; it may equally well arise from the fact that he had had no opportunity of acquiring more. The only way to test the question is by putting a savagoe from his earliest infancy, under the same favourable circ.u.mstances as the child of civilisation.
Whenever this experiment has been tried, and our missionaries have had many opportunities of trying it, the difference has either not appeared at all, or has proved to be very trifling. Mr. Darwin himself seems to have been very much surprised at what he saw in some natives of Terra del Fuego, who were for a time his companions on board the “Beagle.” “The Fuegians rank amongst the lowest barbarians, but I was continually struck with surprise how closely the three natives on board H.M.S. ‘Beagle,’ who had lived some years in England, and could talk a little English, resembled us in disposition, and in most of our mental faculties.”
[Footnote: Descent of Man, vol. i. p 34] And these Fuegians had not been educated from their infancy, they had only come to England later in life, and were thus under an incalculable disadvantage. Had they been heirs to such an intellectual inheritance as fell to the lot of Mr. Darwin, there is nothing extravagant in the supposition that they might have proved themselves equal to him in the ability to make use of it. The comparison then proves to be quite illusory; but it draws our attention to a fact which is of very high importance in our investigation of the difference between man and all other animals.
Man alone seems to be capable of laying up what may be termed an external store of intellectual wealth. Other animals in the state of nature make, so far as we know, no intellectual advances. The bee constructs its cell, the bird builds its nest precisely as its progenitors did in the earliest dawn of history. There is a possibility that some advance, though a very small one, may be made by animals brought under the control of man. It is said, for instance, that a young pointer dog will sometimes point at game without any training. But in this case the acquired knowledge is congenital, and is therefore to be regarded as a development brought about by superintended selection. But with man none of the acquired knowledge is innate. It is a treasure entirely external to himself until he has appropriated it by study of some kind or other. There is no reason to believe that any advance in intellectual power has been made by man, in his collective capacity, since his first appearance on earth. Various individuals have varying powers, but these differences are no result of development, since they may often be found among members of the same family, who have been subjected to the same discipline, and enjoyed the same educational advantages. It follows that the gulf between the ape and the lowest type of humanity is almost if not quite as great as between the ape and the highest type. The savage does not in any way help to bridge over that gulf.
But it is said that the moral and intellectual faculties which man possesses, and which he looks upon as the great badge of his superiority, are in truth only different in degree and not in kind from those possessed by the lower animals. But the grounds on which this a.s.sertion is based are wonderful in their tenuity. Dogs are possessed of self-consciousness because they sometimes emit sounds in their sleep from which it is concluded that they dream.
[Footnote: Descent of Man, vol. i. p. 62.] “Can we feel sure that an old dog, with an excellent memory, and some power of imagination, as shown by his dreams, never reflects on his past pleasures in the chace? And this would be a form of self- consciousness.” Our duty to our neighbour is entirely the result of “social instinct,” [Footnote: Descent of Man, vol. i. pp. 70- 106.] and our duty to our G.o.d the development of a belief which has its origin in dreams. [Footnote: Ibid, p. 66.]
It is impossible for us satisfactorily to meet these a.s.sertions with a direct negative, [Footnote: There are some who think that this statement may be directly refuted. Their views will be found in the QUARTERLY REVEIW, July, 1871.] for this simple reason, that we have no means whatever of knowing what ideas are present in the minds of the lower animals, or even what communications pa.s.s between them. For anything we can tell to the contrary, the bark of a dog may be as articulate to his fellow-dogs as our speech is to our fellow-men, while on the other hand to the dog our speech may be as inarticulate as his bark is to us. But our total ignorance of the mental state of animals which have been the companions of man from the very earliest ages, our utter inability to hold any conversation with them, is in itself a proof of the wide gulf that separates them from us. Put two men of the most widely separated races on a desert isle together, and a very little time will elapse before they are able to hold some communication with each other. If then the difference between man and the lower animals were a difference of the same kind as that between the civilized man and the savage, though greater in degree, surely in so many thousand years something might have been done to open a way for intellectual communication; some development of the faculties of the lower creatures would have been perceived, some means of interchanging ideas would have been discovered. If Mr. Darwin had had for his companions on board the “Beagle,” instead of three Fuegians, as many Gorillas or Chimpanzees, would he, at the end of the voyage, have been able to report any approximation, at all to European mental characteristics, or even to those of the lowest savage? But if the difference be only one of degree, some approximation ought to have taken place.
As then we can have no direct knowledge of the moral and intellectual powers of animals, we can only judge of them from their actions, and other external signs. One great mark of difference has already been noticed. Man has, other animals have not, the power of laying up an external treasure of intellectual acquirements. Then there are certain arts which seem to be indispensable to man in his lowest state–no savage is so low that he is utterly dest.i.tute of them–no animal makes any pretence to them. Such are the designing, construction, and use of tools. Mr.
Darwin a.s.serts that in certain cases–very rare ones–apes have been known to use stones to break open nuts; but the mere use of a stone is a very different thing from the conception and deliberate formation of a tool, however rude. Then there is the kindling of fire, and the use of it for the purpose of cooking; and lastly, the preparation and the wearing of clothes. The tools or the clothes may be of the rudest kind, the tools may be formed from a flint, and the clothes from bark or skin, but in the preparation of each there are signs of intellectual power, of which we find no indications whatever in the lower animals.
Another important difference between man and all other animals lies in the fact, that whatever an animal does it does perfectly from the first, but it makes no improvements. A bird’s first nest is perfect. With man the case is the reverse, it is only by many trials, many failures, that he attains to skill in any operation, but then he goes forward. Arts improve from generation to generation. This seems to show that the faculties of man differ from those of animals in kind, and not in degree only.
The question also arises, if man has been produced from an anthropomorphous ape by a process of natural development, how is it that the same process has not gone on in other lines? The dog, the horse, and the elephant are at least equal in intelligence and sagacity to the highest known apes. Such a development from them cannot have proceeded through the line of the apes. If these different orders are at all connected it must be through some remote common ancestor. Why then has this development come to an abrupt termination in some cases and not in all? It may indeed be said that the dog and the horse are indebted for their intelligence to the inherited results of long intercourse with man, but this cannot be the case with the elephant, which is never known to breed in captivity. Nor is there any reason to believe that the present intelligence of the elephant is recently developed. Why then has it been arrested in its course?
Whether or not we a.s.sume the theory of development to be wholly or partially correct in reference to the lower animals, we must admit that it is true of man, but in a sense totally different from that which Mr. Darwin suggests. The development of which he is the advocate is a development of race, in which the advance made by each individual generation is exceedingly small, while the difference in remote generations, the acc.u.mulated advance of successive generations, is great. In man, on the contrary, there is no reason whatever to believe that there has been any advance at all in the race from the very earliest periods–that either in physical power or intellectual ability the present generation of men, taken as a whole, are in any way superior to their most remote ancestors. The development of which man is especially capable is the development of the individual, that development being not physical, but intellectual and moral, and being in a great degree dependent on the will and perseverance of the individual, and very little on external circ.u.mstances. The result of these individual developments has been the acc.u.mulation of a vast fund of wealth, useful arts, sciences, literature, which form the common possession of the whole race, but do not necessarily imply the slightest advance in any particular individual–that advance being dependent, not on the possession of those treasures, but on the use made of them. In the case of man then development does certainly exist, but it takes a line totally distinct from that which Mr. Darwin advocates, and thus forms another broad line of demarcation between man and the most advanced of the lower animals.
It appears then that the faculties of man differ generically from those of the animals. A new order of things seems to have commenced with the appearance of man on the earth–an order in which the highest place was to be maintained by intellectual instead of physical power. No mere process of evolution then will account for man’s origin. His physical nature may have been formed in that way; but we cannot believe that his intellectual and moral nature were developed from any lower creatures. Only some special Creative interference can account for his existence.
So far then as it tends to negative the continued operation of the Creator, the theory of evolution is untenable. Like that of Laplace, it fails to give an adequate cause for existing phenomena. But it seems probable, as will be seen in the next chapter, that both theories have in them much of truth. They cannot point out the cause of the universe, but they may give us a more or less accurate view of the manner in which that cause operated. The facts brought forward by geologists have been shown not to be incompatible with interpretations which the Mosaic Record readily admits, though they conflict with existing notions upon certain points. In no one then of the three sciences which have been supposed to be specially antagonistic to that record, is there anything to be found which can be maintained as a reasonable ground for doubting that that record is, what it has always been held to be by the Church, a direct Revelation from the Creator.
CHAPTER V.
SCIENCE A HELP TO INTERPRETATION.
It is now clear that there is nothing in the Mosaic Record itself, which is contradicted by any scientific discovery, and that all the alleged difficulties arise either from interpretations prematurely adopted, or from theories which, when carefully examined, are found to be defective, but which may nevertheless contain in them a large element of truth. But if scientific discoveries are available for the refutation of erroneous interpretations, the probability is that when rightly understood they will help us to arrive at the true meaning, since the Works of G.o.d are, beyond all other things, likely to throw light on that portion of His Word in which those Works are described. Nor are the theories to be pa.s.sed over–the greater the amount of truth which they embody the greater will be the likelihood that they will receive help from, as well as throw light upon, such a record; and thus we shall have additional evidence that the Word, the Work, and the Intellect, which has scrutinized and interpreted the Work, are all derived from the same source. We proceed, therefore, to inquire whether these facts and theories do in any way elucidate the concise statements of Scripture, so that we may be enabled to arrive at a somewhat clearer idea of the meaning of this most ancient doc.u.ment, and be enabled to entertain somewhat more distinct views of the manner in which the Divine Architect saw fit to accomplish His Work.
In pursuing this investigation two points must be carefully kept in mind; the first is the distinction between theory and conjecture on the one hand, and well ascertained facts on the other. We shall have much to do with theory, and with conjectural interpretations of observed facts. These can never stand on the same footing as the facts themselves, but can only be regarded as invested with greater or less probability. If it is found that these theories do explain many observed facts, that they harmonize with, and as it were dovetail into any proposed interpretation of which the words of Moses are capable; and still more if that interpretation actually completes the defective points of the theories, and supplies an adequate cause for facts. .h.i.therto inexplicable–then the presumption is a very strong one that the interpretation thus supported is at all events an approximation to the true one.
The second point to be carefully kept in mind is the very imperfect state of scientific knowledge even at the present time.
As far as the matter in hand is concerned, the facts which are ascertained beyond all possibility of doubt, are very few. New means of investigation have very recently been discovered, and as a consequence new sources of information have been pointed out, new fields of research have been laid open. Twenty years ago the spectroscope was a thing undreamt of–now astronomers reckon it as of equal value with the telescope, while chemists find it indispensable to their researches. Who shall say that the next twenty years may not witness some invention of equal importance, which shall throw upon us a fresh flood of light from some unexpected quarter? If then the principle which has. .h.i.therto been maintained is correct, that all our difficulties arise from interpretations based upon insufficient knowledge, but maintained as if of equal authority with the record itself, there is a great danger lest after a time the same difficulty should recur–that the discovery of fresh facts may discredit interpretations based upon our present knowledge. Any interpretation therefore to which we may be led by the scientific views at present entertained, must be regarded as only provisional and tentative, liable at any time to be either confirmed, amended, or rejected, as fresh discoveries may be made.
Before we enter upon a detailed examination of the records of the several days, there are two preliminary points to which attention must be directed. We shall have to make frequent reference to “law.” It will be well that the sense in which the term is used should be made clear. The account of the First Day’s Work will lead to the recent theory of the Correlation of Forces. As this is probably a new subject to many, some previous explanation of it will be necessary.
SECTION 1. OF LAW. [Footnote: This subject is fully treated in the Duke of Argyll’s “Reign of Law.”]
Law, in its original and proper sense, is the expression to an inferior of the will of a superior, which the inferior has it in his power to obey or to resist, but resistance to which entails a penalty more or less severe, in proportion to the moral turpitude, or the injurious consequences of the act of disobedience. In this its strict sense the law can only exist in connection with beings possessed of reason to understand it, of power to obey it, and of free will to determine whether they will obey it or not. When these three conditions are absent law can have no existence. But the result of perfect law, perfectly obeyed, would be perfect order. Hence the observation of perfect order leads, by a reversed process, to the supposition of some law of which that order is the result. Hence arose in the first instance the term “natural laws,”
or “laws of nature.” Events were found to follow each other in a uniform way, and this uniformity was thus sought to be accounted for. Probably in the minds of those by whom the word was thus applied in the first instance Nature was not the mere abstraction it is now, but an unseen power–Deity or subordinate to Deity– working consciously and with design.
[Footnote: Mr. Darwin, especially in the “Origin of Species,”
seems continually to betray the existence of this feeling in his own mind. Though he from time to time reminds us that by Nature he means nothing but the aggregate of sequences of events, or laws, he yet frequently speaks of Nature in a way which is applicable only to an intelligent worker.]
But this feeling has disappeared, and now we are told that natural law is “the observed sequence of events.” In this case, then, the true meaning of the word is entirely lost–it is no longer possible to speak of law as the cause of any event.
But the old sense in which the word was applied to natural phenomena had in it far more of truth than the modern one. It was the imperfect expression of the great truth that G.o.d is a G.o.d of order–that there is a uniform procedure in His works, because in Him there is no change, no caprice. And it is of great importance to us that we should realize this truth, because we are dependent upon the laws of nature every moment of our lives. Every conscious act is performed under the conviction that the natural forces which that act calls forth will operate in a certain prescribed manner. But this conviction, though it restricts us to the limits of the possible, does not further impede the freedom of our will.
To a certain extent we can choose what action we will perform, what forces we will call forth for that purpose, and what direction we will give them. Sometimes we can arrange our forces so that they will continue to act for a considerable time without any intervention from us; in other cases continued interference is necessary. But in all these cases there is no interruption of the law by which the working of these forces is regulated. We have then a limited control over these forces, and yet they are unchangeable in themselves, and in their mode of action.
When, however, we strive to ascend from our own works to those of G.o.d, we can no longer regard these forces as absolutely unchangeable. If they are practically so, it is because it is His Will that they should be so. It is this Will then which has its expression in the so-called laws of nature. The term now a.s.sumes a sense akin to, though not identical with, its original ethical sense. It is no longer a rule imposed by a superior on an inferior, but the rule by which the Supreme Being sees fit to order His own Work. While however we admit the possibility of law of this kind being changed, we have no reason to believe that in the universe with which we have to do any such change has ever taken place. But this does not preclude the possibility of Divine interference in the processes either of Creation or of Providence.
New forces may from time to time be supplied, new directions may be given to existing forces, without any variation in the laws by which the action of those forces is regulated.
And if we believe that Creation was a progressive act, it is rather probable than otherwise that such interferences should take place. For a long period perhaps the uniformity of the work might lead us to forget the Being who was working; but times would arrive when definite stages of the work were accomplished, when higher developments of being were rendered possible, and in the introduction of those higher developments a something would be seen which could not be the result of the processes with which we had already become acquainted. Such interference would not in any way justify the supposition that the designs of the Author of Nature were changed, or that His original plan had proved defective. The more natural inference would be that they were a part of the plan from the first, but that the time for them was not then come.
It will be seen in the sequel that in all probability many of the special acts of Creation, mentioned in the Mosaic Record, are interferences of this kind; that for long periods of time matters advanced in a uniform manner; that the sequence of events was such as our own experience would lead us to antic.i.p.ate; but that these periods were separated from one another by the introduction of new forces and new results. Of the former we may speak then as carried on under the operation of natural laws; the other may be described as special interferences not antagonistic, but supplementary, to natural laws, and forming part of the original design.
SECTION 2. THE CORRELATION OF FORCES.
[Footnote: For fuller information on this subject, Grove’s “Correlation of the Physical Forces,” or Tyndall’s “Lectures on Heat considered as a Mode of Motion,” may be consulted.]
It has long been known that heat and light are closely connected together. The acc.u.mulation of a certain amount of heat is always accompanied by the appearance of light. But when it was found that the light could be separated from the heat by various means, it seemed possible that the two phenomena were simply a.s.sociated. It is now, however, ascertained that light and heat are identical in their nature, and that a vast number of other phenomena– electricity, galvanism, magnetism, chemical action, and gravitation, as well as light and heat, are different manifestations of one and the same thing, which is called force or energy. In a great number of cases it is possible for us, by the use of appropriate means and apparatus, to transform these manifestations, so as to make the same force a.s.sume a variety of forms. Thus motion suddenly arrested becomes heat. A rifle-ball when it strikes the target becomes very hot. The heat produced by the concussion against an iron shield is found sufficient to ignite the powder in some of the newly invented projectiles. The best ill.u.s.tration, however, is to be obtained from galvanism. By means of the Voltaic battery we set free a certain amount of force, and we can employ it at pleasure to produce an intense light in the electric lamp, or to melt metals which resist the greatest heat of our furnaces; it will convert a bar of iron into a magnet, or decompose water into its const.i.tuents, oxygen and hydrogen, or separate a metal from its combination with oxygen.
But in all these processes no new force is produced–the force set free is unchangeable in itself, and we cannot increase its amount. Owing to the imperfection of our instruments and our skill a part of it will always escape from our control, and be lost to us, but not destroyed. When, however, due allowance is made for this loss, the results produced are always in exact proportion to the amount of force originally set free. Thus, if we employ it to decompose water, the amount of water decomposed always bears an exact proportion to the amount of metal which has been oxidized in the cells of the battery.
This force pervades everything which comes within the cognizance of our senses. It exists in what are termed the elementary substances of which the crust of the earth is composed. A certain amount of it seems to be required to maintain them in the forms in which we know them; for in many cases, when two of them are made to combine, a certain amount of force is set free, which commonly makes its appearance as heat. This seems to indicate that a less amount of force suffices to maintain the compound body than was requisite for its separate elements. Thus, when oxygen and hydrogen are combined to form water intense heat is produced. If we wish to dissolve the union, and restore the oxygen and hydrogen to a gaseous state, we must restore the force which has been lost.
This, however, must be done by means of electricity, as heat produces a different change–converting the water into vapour, but not dissolving the union between its elements.
Force, in the shape of heat, determines the condition in which all inorganic bodies exist. In most cases we can make any given element a.s.sume the form of a solid, a fluid, or a vapour, by the addition or subtraction of heat. Thus if a pound of ice at 32 degrees be exposed to heat, it will gradually melt–but the water produced will remain unchanged in temperature till the last particle of ice is melted–then it will begin to rise in temperature; and, if the supply of heat be uniform, it will reach a temperature of 172 degrees in exactly the same time as was occupied in melting the ice. Thus then the force which was applied to the ice as heat pa.s.ses into some other form so long as the ice is being melted–it is no longer perceptible by the senses–we only see its effect in the change from the solid to the fluid form. And this result is brought about by a definite quant.i.ty of force. Each of the inorganic materials of which the crust of the earth is composed seems thus to require in its composition a definite amount of force.
The life of vegetables is developed in the formation of fresh compounds of inorganic matter and force. No vegetable can thrive without sunlight, either direct or diffused. This supplies the force which the plant combines with carbon, hydrogen, and other elements to form woody fibre, starch, oils, and other vegetable products. When we kindle a fire, we dissolve the union which has thus been formed–the carbon and hydrogen enter into simpler combinations which require less force to maintain them, and the superfluous force supplies us with light and heat.
The life of animals is developed by a process exactly the reverse of vegetable life. It is maintained by the destruction of the compounds which the vegetable had formed. These compounds are taken into the body as food, and after undergoing certain modifications and arrangements are finally decomposed. Of the force thus set free a part makes its appearance as heat, maintaining an even temperature in the body, and another part supplies the power by virtue of which the muscles, &c., act. No manifestation of animal life is possible except by force thus set free. It seems all but certain that we cannot think a single thought without the decomposition of an equivalent amount of the brain. It must not, however, be concluded that force and life are identical. Force seems to be only the instrument of which the higher principle of life makes use in its manifestations.
Force then pervades the whole universe so far as it is cognizable by our senses. But we cannot conceive of force as acting, without at the same time conceiving of something on which that force acts.
That something, whatever it may be, we designate “matter.” We have not the slightest idea of what matter really is–no man has ever yet succeeded in separating it from its combination with force.
Even if success were possible, which seems very improbable, it is not likely that matter by itself would be discernible by any of our senses. We know that two of them, sight and hearing, enable us to perceive certain kinds of motion, i. e. manifestations of force, and this is in all probability the case with the rest of them. The existence of matter then is not known by scientific proof but by inference. Our belief in it arises from something in the const.i.tution of our minds which makes it a necessary inference.
There is one more point in reference to force which must be noticed. It is indestructible, but it is capable of what is termed “degradation.” It may exist in various intensities and quant.i.ties, and a small quant.i.ty of force of a higher intensity may be changed into a larger quant.i.ty of force at a lower intensity. In the instance above given of the union of oxygen and hydrogen, heat is given out, but heat does not suffice to dissolve that union. The force must be supplied in the more intense form of Voltaic Electricity. But to reverse this process seems impossible for us.
As, however, this is clearly explained in a previous volume of this series, [Footnote: Can we Believe in Miracles? p. 152.] it is not necessary to dwell upon it at length.
We may conclude then that the whole material universe is built up of matter and force in various combinations, but we can form no conception of what these two things are in themselves; they are only known to us by the effects produced by their union in various proportions.
SECTION 3. THE BEGINNING.
“In the beginning G.o.d created the heaven and the earth.