The Platonic Kosmos compared with the Darwinian theory of evolution.
It is my purpose in this chapter to draw a parallel between the theory
of the origin of different animals propounded in the "Timæus" of Plato
and that of Mr. Darwin. The analogy between them has been briefly
hinted by Mr. Grote, but he has not followed it out in detail, as it
was no part of his object to make minute comparisons between any of
the speculations of Plato and those of modern philosophers. The great
English scholar and critic seems to regard it as somewhat uncertain how
far Plato meant in the "Timæus" to have his description of the Kosmos
stand as an expression of his own belief, or as a mere work of his
imagination and fancy. Plato, we are told, and this is quite obvious,
dealt but little with facts, while he dealt largely with theories.
But, even as a pure work of the imagination, or as a philosophical
epic, the daring conception of the Kosmos is wonderfully complete; and
it will repay any one, who follows Mr. Grote in his analysis of it,
to observe how Plato employs a process of degeneration to account for
the formation of different species of animals, from the higher to the
lower, by agencies that bear a strong resemblance to those which are
assumed by Darwin to have worked in the opposite process of variation
and natural selection, resulting in the evolution of a higher from a
lower animal. But, in order to render this comparison intelligible, it
is necessary to make an abstract of Plato's system of the Kosmos before
adverting to the analogies between that system and the Darwinian
theory. I follow, although I have greatly condensed, Mr. Grote's
description of the Platonic Kosmos.
According to the Platonic idea of the Kosmos, as given in the "Timæus,"
there existed, anterior to all time, primordial matter in a state of
chaos. This matter was not created for; according to Mr. Grote, whose
authority upon such a point is the highest, the notion of absolute
creation was unknown to the Greeks of antiquity, and it does not appear
that Plato suggests it. But, without accounting for its existence,
Plato assumes that there was matter in a condition of utter chaos
before time could have had an existence; and, in order to make the
chaotic condition the more impressive in its primitive destitution
of all form or active principles tending to union or arrangement, he
supposes that the four elements of fire, air, earth, and water had
no existence save in the abstract, or as ideas and forms. But, as
abstract ideas, these four elements of fire, air, earth, and water were
distinct, self-existing, and indestructible, coeval with the chaotic
matter which was waiting to receive their impress and to take on their
distinctive elemental characters. They had already begun to act on the
_fundamentum_, or primordial chaotic matter, as upon a recipient, but
it was in a confused way and without regularity of plan, so that they
had not become concrete existences or determinate agents.
In this state of things there appears upon the scene the Demiurgus,
a being coeval with the chaos of matter, that is, self-existing and
eternal. But, consistently with the philosophy which did not admit of
the idea of absolute creation, the Demiurgus was not a creator, but
an architect or designer, working on materials that lay within his
reach. His moral attribute was goodness, which was, in his situation,
synonymous with order, regularity, symmetry, and proportion, and, along
with this tendency, he had supreme artistic skill. In other words, he
was the personification of νους, or reason, working against necessity:
the latter being, not what we mean by that term, something preordained
and fixed, but confusion, uncertainty, irregularity, and unreason,
which are to be overcome by their opposites.
Besides the chaotic matter and the ideas or forms of the four elements,
as yet unrealized in the actual substances of fire, air, earth, and
water, there were coeval ideas or forms of animals, or, as we should
say, abstract animals, or conceptions of animals. The first and
grandest of these was the eternal self-animal, or the ideal of animal
existence. Next came the ideas or forms of four other animals: 1. The
celestial gods; 2. Man; 3. Birds, or animals living in air; 4. Land
or water animals. Bearing in mind that we are still in the region of
abstract conceptions in regard to these types of animals, which as
yet have no concrete existence, and that they are, so to speak, the
intellectual models from which the Demiurgus is to work, in order to
make the real animals conformably to the pre-existing and eternal
plan, we come to the process of forming the Kosmos, which is to be the
containing animal of all the other four. Out of the confused chaos of
existing matter the Demiurgus proceeds to construct the Kosmos, which
was to become the one self-animal, by impressing the idea or abstract
form of animal upon a physical structure built out of the primordial
chaotic matter and comprehending the whole of it. The first step was
to bring the four elements of fire, air, earth, and water out of their
chaotic and confused condition by separating them according to the
forms of their eternal ideas. The total of each element, when made to
take its normal form, was used in the construction of the Kosmos, which
thus came to possess the whole existing body of material; "so that,"
to borrow the words of Mr. Grote, "there remained nothing of the four
elements apart, to hurt the Kosmos from without, nor anything as raw
material for a second Kosmos."
The Kosmos was made a perfect sphere, and with a perfectly smooth outer
surface, without organs of sight or hearing, because there was nothing
outside to be seen or heard; without organs of respiration, because
there was no outside atmosphere to be breathed; and without nutritive
or excrementory organs, because it was self-sufficing, being supplied
with nourishment by its own decay. It was not furnished with limbs or
means of locomotion or standing, because, being a sphere turning on an
axis, and having only one of the seven possible varieties of movement,
namely, rotation in a circle in one and the same plane, there was
nothing for it to grasp or repel.[12] This body, the only-begotten,
because in its formation all existing bodily material was employed,
perfectly spherical and smooth, equidistant from its center to all
points of its circumference, and suspended upon its own axis traversing
its diameter, was now to be animated by a soul.
The Demiurgus, in the formation of the soul of the Kosmos, took three
constituent ingredients and mixed them together. They were: 1. The
Same, or the Identical, the indivisible and unchangeable essence of
Ideas; 2. The Different, or the Plural, the divisible essence of
bodies or of the elements; 3. A compound of both of these ingredients
melted into one. Blended together in one grand compound, these three
ingredients formed the soul of the Kosmos by first dividing the mixture
into different portions, and then uniting the portions according to
a complicated scale of harmonious numerical proportions. The outer
or sidereal sphere of the Kosmos was made to receive the Same, or
Identity, by being placed in an even and undivided rotation toward the
right, turning on the great axis of the whole sphere. The interior, or
planetary spheres, the five planets, and the sun and the moon, were
made to be under the influence of the Different, or Diversity--that
is to say, their rotations on their separate axes, all oblique, were
toward the left, while the overpowering force of rotation of the
outer sphere carried them along with it, although the time of their
separate rotations was more or less modified by their own inherent and
countermoving forces.
Thus the sentient capacity of the cosmical soul became the cognition
of the Same and the Different, and the blended Same and Different,
because it embodied these three ingredients in its own nature. It was
invisible; rooted at its center and pervading and inclosing the whole
visible body, circulating and communicating, without voice or sound,
all impressions and information concerning the existing relations
between the separate parts and specialties of the cosmical body.
Anterior to the Kosmos there was no time. With the rotation of the
Kosmos time began. It was marked first by the eternal and unchanging
rotation of the outer circle, in which were placed the fixed stars,
which revolved with it in unaltered position with regard to each other;
and one revolution of this outer or most rational circle made a day.
The sun, moon, and planets were distributed in different portions of
the Circle of the Different; one revolution of the moon marking a
month, and one revolution of the sun marking a year. The earth, the
first and oldest of the sidereal and planetary gods, was packed around
the great axis which ran through the center of the Kosmos, and turned
that axis; so that the earth regulated the movement of the great
cosmical axis, and was the determining agent of night and day.
Thus far we have the formation of the Kosmos, animated with a pervading
soul, the body being formed out of the whole of existing matter, molded
into the specific elements of fire, air, earth, and water, and the
soul being formed out of the constituent ingredients furnished by the
eternal and invisible essence of ideas. The whole, body and soul of
the Kosmos, was thus an animal, formed on the abstract but eternal
idea or form of an animal which had existed before time began. We
now approach the formation of the other animals. Of the Kosmos there
could be but one. All existing material of matter had been used in
his construction. He could not become a species, as there could be no
second Kosmos. Something could be borrowed from him, for the formation
of other animals, but nothing could be destroyed. He was not yet,
however, a full copy of the model of the Generic Animal or Idea of
Animal, because the eternal plan of that model required that he should
be peopled or inhabited by four other animals, which might constitute
species. Accordingly, the Demiurgus proceeds to form the first of
these sub-animals, the gods, who are to inhabit different portions of
the Kosmos. The first of these in formation was the earth, planted
in the center, and made sentinel over night and day; next the fixed
stars, formed chiefly out of fire, and placed in the outer circle of a
fixed revolution, or the Circle of the Same, to give to it light and
brilliancy. The sidereal orbs thus became animated beings, eternal and
divine. They remained constantly turning round in the same relative
position, but the sun, moon, and planets, belonging to the Circle of
the Different, and trying to revolve by their own effort in a direction
opposite to that of the outer sphere, became irregular in their
revolutions and varied in their relative positions. Thus the primitive
gods were the earth and the fixed stars, which revolved without
variation with the Circle of the Same, and became immortal as well as
visible; while the sun, moon, and planets were not among the primitive
gods, but were simply spherical bodies placed in the inner Circle
of the Different. The primitive gods preside over and regulate the
Kosmos. From them are generated and descended the remaining gods.[13]
Having completed the Kosmos and the primitive gods, the Demiurgus
paused in his work. There were still other animals to be constructed,
the first and noblest of which was to be Man. But the Demiurgus,
who, in the construction of these gods, had made them immortal, not
in their own nature but through his determination, seems to have
apprehended that, if he proceeded to construct the other animals
himself, they would likewise be thereby rendered of immortal duration.
He therefore assembled the newly generated gods and made to them a
personal address. He informed them of their immortal existence, and of
his purpose to confide to them the construction of the other animals,
stating at the same time, in the case of man, that he would himself
supply an immortal element which they were to incorporate with a
mortal body, in imitation of the power which he had exercised in the
generation of themselves. He then proceeded to compound together, but
in inferior perfection and purity, the remnant of the same elements
out of which he had formed the cosmical soul.[14] He then distributed
the whole of this mass into souls equal in number to the fixed stars,
placed each of them in a star of its own, where it would be carried
round in the cosmical rotation, explained to it its immortal destiny,
and that at an appointed hour of birth it would be transferred into a
mortal body in conjunction with two inferior kinds of soul or mind.
These irrational enemies, the two inferior souls, the rational and
immortal soul would have to control and subdue, so as to live a good
life. If it triumphed in the conflict, it would return after death to
its own star, where in an everlasting abode it would dwell forever
in unison with the celestial harmonies and perfections of the outer
sphere. But, if it failed, it would be born again into an inferior
body, and on the death of that body, if it continued evil, it would be
again born into a still more degraded animal, through an indefinite
transmigration from animal to animal, until the rational soul should
have obtained the mastery over the irrational and turbulent, when it
would be released and permitted to return to its own peculiar star.[15]
Here, then, the Demiurgus retired, leaving to the gods the work of
fabricating mortal bodies for man, and two mortal and inferior souls,
with which the immortal soul was to be joined. But before he withdrew
he inculcated upon the gods to construct the new mortal animal in the
best manner, so that the immortal soul should have the fairest chance
of guiding and governing rightly, in order that the animal might
not be the cause of mischief and misery to himself; a possible and
even probable result which the Demiurgus proclaimed beforehand, thus
relieving himself of responsibility, and casting it, it would seem,
upon the gods.[16] The latter stood, then, in the position of workmen,
who have received certain directions from a superior architect, have
been supplied with certain materials, and are obliged to conform to a
prescribed model, the cosmical animal, as far as circumstances will
allow. The Demiurgus retires, and leaves the gods to their work.
They borrow from the Kosmos, from which they are permitted to obtain
materials, portions of the four elements, for the construction of the
human body, with an engagement that these materials shall one day be
returned. These they unite in one body by numerous minute and invisible
fastenings; over this body they place a head or cranium, into which
they introduce the immortal soul, making the head, with its spherical
form like that of the Kosmos, and admitting of no motion but the
rotary, the most divine portion of the human system and master of the
body, which is to be subject and ministerial. To the body they give all
the six varieties of motive power, forward, backward, upward, downward,
to the right and to the left. The phenomena of nutrition and sensation
begin as soon as the connection is formed between the immortal soul and
the mortal body, but as the irregular movements and agitations arising
from the diverse rotations of the Same and the Different convey false
and foolish affirmations to the soul in the cranium. That soul is
destitute of intelligence when first joined to the body, and remains
so for some time. But gradually these disturbing currents abate,
the rotations of the Same and the Different in the head become more
regular, and the man becomes more intelligent.
It is now necessary to account for the introduction of the two mortal
souls, and to show how the conflict appointed for the immortal soul
became the test of a life which was to determine whether the latter
should be permitted, on the death of the body, to return to its
peculiar star, or whether it should be degraded into some lower form
of animal. The immortal soul has its special abode in the head, which
is both united to and separated from the trunk by the neck. The gods
kept the two mortal souls separate, so that the rational or immortal
soul might be defiled by the contact as little as possible. The better
portion of the mortal soul they placed in the thoracic cavity. It
was the energetic, courageous, contentious soul, placed above the
diaphragm, so as to receive orders easily from the head, and to aid
the rational soul in keeping the mutinous soul of appetite, which was
placed below the diaphragm, in subjection.
It is unnecessary to follow here the minute anatomical descriptions
which Plato gives of the different organs of the human body, or of
the way in which they are supposed to act on the two divisions of
the mortal soul, or to be acted on by them, or the mode in which the
latter act upon the encephalic or immortal soul which is seated in the
cranium. These descriptions evince much knowledge of the human anatomy,
and probably all the knowledge that was possessed in Plato's time. It
is immaterial how far this anatomical knowledge was correct, and of
course there was in Plato's use of the various organs a great deal that
was fanciful. It is sufficient, without following Mr. Grote's analysis
through these details, to note that, in Plato's arrangement, the
immortal soul was supposed to be fastened in the brain, the two mortal
souls in the line of the spinal marrow continuous with the brain, and
that this line formed the thread of connection between them all.
Passing on toward the point where the process of degradation might
begin, which would result in the reduction of this new and divinely
constructed animal to a lower form, we have to note, first, that it was
made a non-sexual animal, being intended for an angelic type. In the
original plan of the gods, it was not contemplated that this primitive
type should reproduce itself by any process of generation. According
to the original scheme, it would seem that every time a new immortal
soul was to be brought down from its peculiar star, the process of
constructing for it a mortal body would have to be repeated. Plato,
Mr. Grote observes, does indeed tell us that the primitive non-sexual
type had the option of maintaining itself. But this must mean that
each individual of that type had the option of maintaining itself in
its struggle with the debasing influences of appetite and disease.
But not one representative of it has held his ground; and as it was
foreseen that such an angelic type could not maintain itself, we
are to look for a reconstruction of the whole organism. This came
about from the degeneracy of the primitive non-sexual animal below
the standard of good life which it had the option of continuing.
Men whose lives had fallen below this standard became effeminate,
cowardly, unjust. In their second birth, their immortal souls had to be
translated into a body resembling that to which they had debased the
first body into which they were born. The first transition, therefore,
was from man into woman. In other words, the gods, seeing that the
non-sexual primitive type did not maintain itself at the high point
intended for it, reconstructed the whole organism upon the bi-sexual
principle, introducing the comparatively lower type of woman. A partial
transformation of the male structure makes the female. A suitable
adjustment of the male organs, and the implanting of the sexual
impulse in both sexes, by the agency of the gods, make provision for
generative reproduction, and a species is formed, which takes the place
of the primitive non-sexual type which did not reproduce itself in the
original scheme. The primitive type disappears, and it disappears by
a process of degradation, which it undergoes by reason of its failure
to avail itself of the option which it originally had of living a good
life that would entitle the immortal soul to return to its peculiar
star without further conflict with the debasing tendencies to which it
was exposed in the first body that it inhabited.
In this curious theory we see how a process of declension or
degradation is induced by what may almost be called a choice, since
the primitive human being, by not resisting the debasing tendencies of
his lower nature, is made by those tendencies to assume a less divine
form than that in which he originally existed. To the primitive man the
gods assigned the encephalic or head-soul, which was connected with
and suspended from the divine soul of the Kosmos. They assigned it to
each man as his presiding genius. If he neglected it, and directed
all his development toward the energetic or appetitive mortal soul,
he would become debased. He did so. Hence it became necessary for the
gods to reconstruct the whole organism, and in this reconstruction
the primitive non-sexual type becomes the bi-sexual, and a species is
formed.
It is not necessary to enter into the metaphysical argument which
relates to the question of responsibility for this change from the
original plan. Plato tells us that the gods foresaw it as a necessary
consequence of the original scheme; and, moreover, that they foresaw
that they must make preparation for the still more degenerate varieties
of birds and quadrupeds, into which the corrupt and stupid part of
mankind would sink, all of which were according to the great eternal
scheme of the four kinds of ideal animals embraced in the idea of the
Kosmos itself. But with the moral justice of the whole theory we have
no concern here. We are here concerned, first, with the nature of the
process by which, in the Platonic theory, the bi-sexual human race
became formed out of the primitive non-sexual type; and, next, with
the process by which individuals of this race became degraded into the
lower animals.[17]
After the process of degradation had begun, after the primitive type
had given place to the bi-sexual human race, and a species was thus
formed, further degradation would be inevitable under the same causes
which produced the first one. The female part of mankind would go on
bringing forth new males and new females, and to each one at birth
there would come from its peculiar star an immortal soul, for I do not
understand that Plato's women were supposed not to be constructed, in
this respect, upon the same plan as the men. But each of these newly
arrived immortal souls would be placed in a mortal body in contact and
conflict with the two mortal souls of appetite, disturbance, and mutiny
against the divine laws of reason. Each new human being would then be
exposed to further debasement, by which his or her human organs and
human form would undergo transformation into a lower type of animal
life. Accordingly, we find that Plato, in perfect consistency with his
theory, supposes that birds are a degraded birth or formation derived
from one peculiar mode of degeneracy in man, hair being transmuted into
feathers and wings. If we inquire from what kind of men the birds were
formed, and how they came to be assigned to the air, we shall best
learn from the words employed by Mr. Grote to express Plato's idea:
"Birds were formed from the harmless but light, airy, and superficial
men, who, though carrying their minds aloft to the study of cosmical
phenomena, studied them by visual observation and not by reason,
foolishly imagining that they had discovered the way of reaching
truth."[18]
Next to the birds came the land-animals, a more brutal formation.
These, to borrow the words of Mr. Grote's analysis, "proceeded from men
totally destitute of philosophy, who neither looked up to the heavens
nor cared for celestial objects; from men making no use whatever of
the rotations of their encephalic soul, but following exclusively
the guidance of the lower soul in the trunk. Through such tastes and
occupations, both their heads and their anterior limbs became dragged
down to the earth by the force of affinity. Moreover, when the rotation
of the encephalic soul from want of exercise became slackened and fell
into desuetude, the round form of the cranium was lost and became
converted into an oblong or some other form. These now degenerated into
quadrupeds and multipeds, the gods furnishing a greater number of feet
in proportion to the stupidity of each, in order that its approximation
to earth might be multiplied. To some of the more stupid, however, the
gods gave no feet or limbs at all, constraining them to drag the whole
length of their bodies along the ground, and to become reptiles. Out of
the most stupid and senseless of mankind, by still greater degeneracy,
the gods formed fishes, or aquatic animals--the fourth and lowest genus
after men, birds, land-animals. This race of beings, from their extreme
want of mind, were not considered worthy to live on earth, or to
respire thin and pure air. They were condemned to respire nothing but
deep and turbid water, many of them, as oysters and other descriptions
of shell-fish, being fixed down at the lowest depth or bottom. It is by
such transitions (concludes the Platonic 'Timæus') that the different
races of animals passed originally, and still continue to pass, into
each other. The interchange is determined by the acquisition or loss of
reason or rationality."[19]
Here, then, we have a process of degradation by which the different
races of animals were formed, by a kind of selection which, commencing
in the human species from the neglect of the encephalic soul to
maintain its high duties and aims, goes on in successive debasements
which result in the formation of lower and still lower animals until
we reach the shell-fish fixed upon the earth at the bottom of the
water. The bi-sexual principle of construction having been introduced
in the human species, was continued through all the other species
formed by the still descending process of deterioration, so that to
each successive species there remained the power of reproducing its
own type, along with the tendency to evolve a lower type by further
loss of reason or rationality. It is not material to the purpose of
the parallel, which I am about to draw between the Platonic and the
Darwinian system, to consider the precise nature of the Platonic idea
of an intelligent power, by which these successive degradations were
in one sense purposely ordained. Enough is apparent on the Platonic
system to show that, while these degradations were according to an
eternal plan, because they resulted from the conflict between reason
and unreason, order and disorder, between purity and impurity, yet the
different species of animals, after man, were not special creations by
an infinite power interfering in each case by a separate exercise of
creative will. They were a growth of an inferior organization out of a
superior through the inevitable operation of tendencies which changed
the forms of the animals. As fast as these tendencies operated--and
they were continually operating--the ministers of the Demiurgus, the
gods, stood ready to adapt the structure to the new conditions in
which the tendencies resulted, so that the new animal might be fitted
to and fixed in those conditions. Still, the gods are not represented
as making separate creations of new species as an act of their will,
without the pre-existing operation in the preceding type of tastes and
occupations which modify the structure into one of a more degraded
character. It may thus be said with entire truth that the Platonic idea
of the origin of the different races of animals presents a parallel
to the Darwinian theory, in which it will be found that the one is
the reverse of the other, both of them proceeding upon and involving
analogous principles of evolution, operating in the one system from
below upward, and in the other from a higher point downward. If, in
the Platonic system, the idea of an original immortal soul placed
in a heavenly abode, but afterward brought down and fixed in a
mortal body, is the starting-point--if a conflict of a spiritual and
angelic existence with corporeal and earthly tendencies is at first
the predominant fact--the parallel between the Platonic process of
degradation and the Darwinian process of elevation remains the same;
for, in the one system, reason degenerates into instinct, and instinct
at last reaches its lowest possible action, or ceases entirely; and,
in the other, instinct rises from its lowest action through successive
improvements until it becomes mind or intellect: so that somewhere in
the two processes there must be a point where they pass each other in
opposite directions, the one losing or merging intellect in instinct,
the other losing and merging instinct in mind, each of the two
processes being a process of development or evolution, but in opposite
directions.[20]
It is not easy to ascertain at once what was Mr. Darwin's idea of the
mode in which a supreme intelligence has presided over the creation.
In his work on "The Descent of Man", he adduces some evidence that man
was not "originally endowed with the ennobling belief in the existence
of an Omnipotent God," this evidence being that numerous savage races
have existed, and still exist, who have had and have no words in their
language to express this idea. But this, if true, does not help us
to understand what part in Mr. Darwin's theory an Omnipotent God is
supposed to play. Scattered through the same work we find references
to the hypothesis of such a being, and to the influences which this
belief has exerted upon the advance of morality. But I assume that we
are to understand that Mr. Darwin adopts as a fact, to be taken into
account in judging of his theory of evolution, that there is such a
being as an Omnipotent God, having equally the power to make separate
creations, or to establish certain laws of matter, and to leave them
to operate through secondary causes in the production and extinction
of the past and present inhabitants of the world. In his work on the
"Origin of Species" he refers to "what we know of the laws impressed
upon matter by the Creator."[21] In his "Descent of Man" the following
passage occurs toward the close of the work: "He who believes in the
advancement of man from some low organized form will naturally ask,
How does this bear on the belief in the immortality of the soul? The
barbarous races of man, as Sir J. Lubbock has shown, possess no clear
belief of this kind; but arguments, derived from the primeval beliefs
of savages, are, as we have just seen, of little or no avail. Few
persons feel any anxiety from the impossibility of determining at what
precise period in the development of the individual, from the first
trace of a minute germinal vesicle, man becomes an immortal being;
and there is no greater cause for anxiety, because the period can not
possibly be determined in the gradually ascending organic scale."
Surely it is a most pertinent inquiry, How does his theory of the
advancement of man from some lower organized form bear on the
immortality of the soul? and it is no answer to this inquiry to say
that upon no hypothesis of man's origin can we determine at what
precise period he becomes an immortal being. That the idea of an
Omnipotent God, capable of creating a spiritual essence, or an immortal
soul, is not denied by Mr. Darwin, is doubtless to be inferred from
his strong affirmation that our minds refuse to accept as the result
of blind chance the grand sequence of events which the birth both of
the species and the individual presents to our view. That variations of
structure, the union of pairs in marriage, the dissemination of seeds,
and similar events, have all been ordained for some special purpose,
is the hypothesis according to which he regards them as events brought
about by the laws of natural selection, which laws were ordained by
the Creator and left to operate. Now, while this hypothesis excludes,
or tends to exclude, the idea of blind chance, it still remains to
be considered whether the soul of man, or the essence which we call
intellect, is in each case a direct creation of a special character, or
whether it is a result from the operation of the laws which have been
ordained for the action of organized matter. If it is the former, the
soul may survive the destruction of the body. If it is the latter, the
soul as well as all the other manifestations or exhibitions which the
material body gives forth in its action, may and in all probability
must cease with the organs whose action leads us falsely to believe
that we are animated by an immortal spirit while we are in the flesh.
If it is a necessary result of any theory that what is supposed to be
the immortal soul of man is a product of the operation of certain laws
imposed upon organized matter, without being a special creation of
something distinct from matter, it is immaterial whether the organized
form of matter with which the soul is connected, or appears to act for
a time, was a special creation, or was an evolution out of some lower
form, or came by blind chance. Nor is it material that we can not
determine at what precise period in the genesis of the individual, by
the ordinary process of reproduction, he becomes an immortal being. The
question is, Does he ever become an immortal being, if in body and in
mind he is a mere product of organized matter, formed from some lower
type through the laws of variation and natural selection, resulting in
an animal whose manifestations or exhibitions of what we call intellect
or mind are manifestations of the same nature as the instincts of the
lower animals, differing only in degree?
That I may not be misunderstood, and especially that I may not be
charged with misrepresentation, I will state the case for the Darwinian
theory as strongly as I can. The question here is obviously not a
question of power. An Omnipotent Creator has just the same capacity to
make special creations, by a direct and special exertion of his will,
as he has to make one primordial type and place it under fixed laws
that will in their operation cause a physical organization to act in
such a way as to evolve out of it other and more or less perfect types.
In either method of action, he would be the same Omnipotent God, by
whose will all things would exist; and I assume that upon this point
there is no difference between some of the evolution school and its
opponents. But in considering the question of the origin of the human
soul, or the intellect of man, we are dealing not with a question of
power, but with the probable method in which the conceded Omnipotent
capacity has acted. On the one hand, we have the hypothesis that the
Eternal and Omnipotent capacity has created a spiritual and immortal
being, capable of existing without any union with the body that is
formed out of earthly material, but placed for a time in unison with
such a body; and that for the effectual purpose of this temporary
union this body has been specially constructed, and constructed in two
related forms, male and female, so that this created species of animal
may perpetuate itself by certain organic laws of reproduction. Now it
is obviously immaterial that we can not detect the point of time, or
the process, at or by which the union between the spiritual essence
and the earthly body takes place in the generation of the individual.
It is conceded to be alike impossible to detect the time or mode in
which descendants of the lower animals, which had nothing resembling
intellect, become endowed with and inhabited by intellect, through the
supposed laws of variation and natural selection, operating to produce
an animal of a more elaborate organization. The point of divergence
between the two hypotheses is precisely this: that the one supposes the
mind of man to be a special creation, of a spiritual nature, designed
to be immortal, but placed in union with a mortal body for a temporary
purpose. The other hypothesis supposes no special creation of either
the mind or the body of man, but maintains that the latter is evolved
out of some lower animal, and that the former is evolved out of the
action of physical organization.[22] Either mode of projecting and
executing the creation of both the body and the mind of man is of
course competent to an Omnipotent God. The question is, Which mode has
the highest amount of probability on which to challenge our belief?
If the one, as it is described, leads to the conclusion that the mind
can not survive the body, and the other leads to the conclusion that
it can, we are left to choose between them: and our choice must be
determined by what we can discover of satisfactory proof that the mind
of man was destined to become immortal. What, then, is the Darwinian
theory of the origin of man as an animal, and to what does it lead
respecting the origin and nature of the human soul?
Whoever will carefully examine Mr. Darwin's hypothesis of the
descent of man as an animal, will find that commencing at a point
opposite to that at which Plato began his speculations, the modern
naturalist assumes the existence of a very low form of animated and
organized matter, destitute of anything in the nature of reason,
even if acting under what may be called instinctive and unconscious
impulses, imposed upon it by the preordained laws by which animated
matter is to act. By some process of generation, either bi-sexual or
uni-sexual or non-sexual, this very low type of animal is endowed with
a power of reproducing other individuals of the same structure and
habits. In process of time, for which we must allow periods very much
longer than those of which we are accustomed to think in relation to
recorded history, the individuals of this species become enormously
multiplied. A struggle for existence takes place between these very
numerous individuals; and in this struggle there comes into operation
the law to which Mr. Darwin has given the name of "natural selection,"
which is but another name for a series of events. He does not mean
by this term to imply a conscious choice on the part of the animals,
nor an active power or interfering deity. He employs it to express
a constantly occurring series of events or actions, by which, in
certain circumstances, animals secure themselves against the tendency
to destruction which is caused by the great disparity between their
numbers and the amount of food that is accessible to them, or by the
unfavorable influences of a change of climate upon so great a body
of individuals. He calls this series of events or actions _natural_
selection, in order, as I understand, to compare what takes place
in nature with what takes place when a breeder of animals purposely
selects the most favorable individuals for the purpose of improving
or varying the breed. In nature, the selection is supposed to operate
as follows: The strongest and most active individuals of a species
of animals have the best chance of securing the requisite amount of
food from the supply that is insufficient for all. They do this by
their greater fleetness in overtaking the common prey, or by making
war upon the more feeble or inactive of their fellows; and numerous
individuals are either directly destroyed by this warfare, or are
driven off from the feeding-ground and perish for want of nourishment.
Thus the best specimens of the race survive; and to this occurrence is
given the name of the "survival of the fittest," meaning the survival
of those individuals best fitted to continue their own existence and
to continue their species. A physical change in the country inhabited
by a great multitude of individuals of a certain species, or by
different species--for example, a change of climate--operates to make
this struggle for existence still more severe, and the result would
be that those individuals of the same species which could best adapt
themselves to their new condition would tend to be preserved, as
would the different species inhabiting the same country which could
best maintain the struggle against other species. The improvement
in the structure of the animals takes place, under this process of
natural selection, in the following manner: The best individuals being
preserved, the organs of which they make most use in the struggle for
existence undergo development and slight modifications, favorable
to the preservation of the individual, and these modifications are
transmitted to their offspring. Here there comes in play a kind of
collateral aid to which is given the name of "sexual selection,"
which is defined as a form of selection depending "not on a struggle
for existence in relation to other organic beings or to external
conditions, but on a struggle between individuals of one sex, generally
the males, for the possession of the other sex."[23] "The result,"
continues Mr. Darwin, "is not death to the unsuccessful competitor,
but few or no offspring. Sexual selection is, therefore, less rigorous
than natural selection. Generally, the most vigorous males, those which
are best fitted for their place in nature, will leave most progeny.
But, in many cases, victory depends not so much on general vigor, as
on having special weapons, confined to the male sex." As, by means of
this warfare of sexual selection, the victor would always be allowed
to breed, his courage and his special weapons of offense or defense,
in their increased development, would descend to his offspring. Thus
the improvement and modification induced by natural selection would be
enhanced and transmitted by the sexual selection.[24]
In regard to the operation of the two kinds of selection in the
evolution of man from a lower form of animal, we find the theory
to be this: That organic beings with peculiar habits and structure
have passed through transitions which have converted the primordial
animal into one of totally different habits and structure; that,
in these transitions, organs adapted to one condition and mode
of life have become adapted to another; that such organs are
homologous, and that in their widely varied uses they have been
formed by transitional gradations, so that, for example, a floating
apparatus, or swim-bladder, existing in a water-animal for one
purpose--flotation--has become converted in the vertebrate animals into
true lungs for the very different purpose of respiration. Thus, by
ordinary generation, from an ancient and unknown prototype, not only
have organs, by minute and successive transitions, become adapted to
changed conditions of life, but the whole organism has become changed,
and this has resulted in the production of an animal vastly superior
to his ancient and unknown prototype; and yet to that prototype, of
which we have no specimen and no record, are to be traced the germs
of all the peculiarities of structure which we find in the perfect
animals of different kinds that we thoroughly know, until we come to
man, these successive results being brought about by the two kinds of
selection--natural and sexual.
There can be no better illustration of the character of Mr. Darwin's
theory than that to which he resorts when he means to carry it to its
most startling length, while he candidly admits that he has felt the
difficulty of this application of it far too keenly to be surprised
at the hesitation of others. This illustration is the eye. Here he
very justly says it is indispensable that reason should conquer
imagination; but on which side of the question reason or imagination
is most employed might, perhaps, be doubtful. Mr. Darwin's hypothesis
concerning the eye begins with the fact that in the highest division
of the animal kingdom, the vertebrata, we can start from an eye so
simple that it consists, as in the lancelet,[25] of a little sack of
transparent skin, furnished with a nerve, and lined with pigment, but
destitute of any other apparatus. From this prototype of a visual
organ, up to the marvelous construction of the eye of man or of the
eagle, he supposes that extremely slight and gradual modifications
have led, by the operation of natural and sexual selection; and by
way of illustrating this development, he compares the formation of
the eye to the formation of the telescope. "It is scarcely possible
to avoid comparing the eye with a telescope. We know that this
instrument has been perfected by the long-continued efforts of the
highest human intellects, and we naturally infer that the eye has been
formed by a somewhat analogous process. But may not this inference
be presumptuous? Have we any right to assume that the Creator works
by intellectual powers like those of man? If we must compare the eye
to an optical instrument, we ought, in imagination, to take a thick
layer of transparent tissue, with spaces filled with fluid, and with a
nerve sensitive to light beneath, and then suppose every part of this
layer to be continually changing slowly in density, so as to separate
into layers of different densities and thickness, placed at different
distances from each other, and with the surface of each layer slowly
changing in form. Further, we must suppose that there is a power,
represented by natural selection or the survival of the fittest,
always watching each slight alteration in the transparent layers, and
carefully preserving each which, under varied circumstances, in any way
or in any degree, tends to produce a distincter image. We must suppose
each new state of the instrument to be multiplied by the million, each
to be preserved until a better one is produced, and then the old ones
to be all destroyed. In living bodies variations will cause the slight
alterations, generation will multiply them almost infinitely, and
natural selection will pick out with unerring skill each improvement.
Let this process go on for millions of years, and during each year on
millions of individuals of many kinds, and may we not believe that a
living optical instrument might thus be formed as superior to one of
glass as the works of the Creator are to those of man?"[26]
It might have occurred to the very learned naturalist that the
formation of a mechanical instrument by the hand of man, guided by
his intellect, admits of varieties of that instrument for different
purposes, as products of an intelligent will. Different kinds of
telescopes for different uses have been produced, not by destroying
the poorer ones and preserving the better ones, but by a special
and intentional adaptation of the structure to special uses, until
an instrument is made which will dissolve the nebulæ of the milky
way, and bring within the reach of our vision heavenly bodies of the
existence of which we had no previous knowledge. Why may not the same
intelligent and intentional formation of the human eye, as a special
structure adapted to the special conditions of such an animal as man,
have been the direct work of the Creator, just as the lowest visual
organ--that of such a creature as the lancelet--was specially made
for the conditions of its existence? Why resort to the theory that
all the intermediate varieties of the eye have grown successively out
of the lowest form of such an organ by transitional grades of which
we can not trace the series, when the probabilities concerning the
varieties of this organ of which we have any knowledge are so strongly
on the side of a special and intentional adaptation of each one to the
circumstances of the animal to which it has been given? As a question
of power in the Creator, either method of action was of course just as
competent as the other. As a question of which was his probable method,
the case is very different; for we know comparatively very little of
the modifications produced by such causes as natural or even sexual
selection, while we may, without presumption, assume that we know much
more about the purposes of special adaptation to special conditions,
which an omnipotent Creator may have designed and effected. But this is
a digression, and also an anticipation of the argument.
To state the pedigree of man according to the Darwinian theory, we
must begin with an aquatic animal as the early progenitor of all the
vertebrata. This animal existing, it is assumed, "in the dim obscurity
of the past," was provided with branchiæ or gills, or organs for
respiration in water, with the two sexes united in the same individual,
but with the most important organs of the body, such as the brain and
heart, imperfectly or not at all developed. From this fish-like animal,
or from some of its fish descendants, there was developed an amphibious
creature, with the sexes distinct. Rising from the amphibians, through
a long line of diversified forms, we come to an ancient marsupial
animal, an order in which the young are born in a very incomplete state
of development, and carried by the mother, while sucking, in a ventral
pouch.[27] From the marsupials came the quadrumana[28] and all the
higher mammals.[29] Among these mammals there was, it is supposed, a
hairy, tailed quadruped, probably arboreal in its habits, from which
man is descended. It was an inhabitant of the Old World. It branched
into the lemuridæ, a group of four-handed animals, distinct from the
monkeys, and resembling the insectivorous quadrupeds in some of their
characters and habits;[30] and from these came the simiadæ, of which
there were two great stems--the New World and Old World monkeys. "From
the latter, at a remote period, man, the wonder and glory of the
universe, proceeded."[31]
The reader must now, in order to do justice to this theory, imagine
a lapse of time, from the period of the existence of the aquatic
progenitor of all the vertebrata, to be counted by millions of years,
or by any figures that will represent to the mind the most conceivable
distance between a past and a present epoch. Through this enormous
stretch of centuries, in order to give scope to the operation of the
laws of natural and sexual selection, we must suppose the struggle for
existence to be going on among the individuals of the same species, and
among different species inhabiting the same country, and the sexual
selection among the individuals of the same species to be perpetually
transmitting to offspring the improved and more developed organs and
powers induced by natural selection; so that in the countless sequence
of generations there are evolved animals that are so widely different
from their remote progenitors that in classifying them we find them to
be new species, endowed with a power of reproducing their own type, and
similarly capable, it would seem, of still further development into
even higher types in the long-distant future.
I know not how it may appear to others, but to me the parallelism
between the Platonic and the Darwinian theory is very striking. Both
speculators assume the existence of a Supreme Intelligence and Power,
presiding over the creation of animals which are to inhabit this earth.
Behind the celestial or primitive gods the Greek philosopher places
the Demiurgus, to whom the gods stand in the relation of ministers
or servants to execute his will. The modern naturalist assumes the
existence of the Omnipotent God; and although he does not directly
personify the laws of natural and sexual selection which the Omnipotent
power has made to operate in nature, they perform an office in the
transitional gradations through which the animals are successively
developed, that very closely resembles the office performed by the
gods of Plato's system in providing the modifications of structure
which the animals undergo. In the two processes the one is the reversed
complement of the other. Plato begins with the formation of an animal
of a very exalted type, and by successive degradations, induced by the
failure of the animal to live up to the high standard of its rational
existence, he supposes a descent into lower and still lower forms, the
gods all the while providing a new structure for each successive lower
form, until we reach the shell-fish fixed on the earth beneath the
water. Darwin begins with the lowest form of animated organization,
and by successive gradations induced by the struggle of the animal to
maintain its existence, he supposes an ascent into higher and still
higher forms, the laws of natural and sexual selection operating to
develop a new structure for each successive higher form, until we reach
man, "the wonder and glory of the universe," an animal whose immediate
ancestor was the same as the monkey's, and whose remote progenitor was
an aquatic creature breathing by gills and floating by a swim-bladder.
Nor had Plato less of probability to support his theory than Darwin
had to support his. The Greek philosopher might have adduced the
constant spectacle of men debasing their habits and even their physical
appearance into a resemblance to the brutes. He might have suggested,
and he does suggest, how the degrading tendencies of the lower
appetites and the ravages of disease drag down the human frame from its
erect carriage and its commanding power over matter to an approximation
with the condition of the inferior animals. He might have adduced
innumerable proofs of the loss of reason, or rationality, through
successive generations of men, brought about by the transmission of
both appetites and physical malformation from parents to children.
He might have compared one of his Athenian fellow-citizens of the
higher class with the lowest savage known throughout all the regions
accessible to an observer of his day and country. He might have
portrayed the one as a being preserving his physical organization
in the highest state of perfection by gymnastic exercises, by a
well-chosen diet, by observance of all the conditions of health, by the
aid of the highest medical skill known to the age; cultivating his mind
by philosophy, practicing every public and private virtue as they were
understood among a people of rare refinement, and adorning his race by
an exhibition of the highest qualities that were then attainable. All
these qualities, physical, mental, and moral, Plato might have shown
were transmissible in some degree, and in a good degree were actually
transmitted from sire to son. Turning to the other picture, and
comparing "Hyperion to the satyr," he might have shown that the lowest
savage, in those physical points of structure which were best adapted
to his animal preservation as an inhabitant of the wildest portion of
the earth, had retained those which made him more nearly resemble the
brute inhabitants of the same region, and that in his intellectual
and moral qualities the resemblance between him and his Athenian
contemporary was almost wholly lost. Intermediate between these extreme
specimens of the human race, why could not Plato have found with great
probability, and often with actual proof, successive degradations of
structure and uses of organs, just as well supported by facts, or
analogies, or hypotheses, as are Mr. Darwin's successive elevations
from a lower to a higher animal? If Plato had known as much about the
animal kingdom as is now known, he could have arrayed the same facts
in support of his theory, by an argument as powerful as that which now
supports the doctrine of evolution.
Nay, it is certain that Plato's attention was drawn to some of these
facts, and that he makes use of them in a way that is as legitimately
a probable occurrence as any use that is made of them at the present
day. For example, he was struck with the existence of what in
scientific parlance are called "rudiments," a term that is employed
to describe an organ or part which appears to have no special use
where it is found in one animal, but which, in a more developed or
in a diversified condition, has an obvious use in another animal.
Thus, he tells us that the gods, with a long-sighted providence,
introduced a sketch or rudiment of nails into the earliest organization
of man, foreseeing that the lower animals would be produced from
the degeneration of man, and that to them claws and nails would be
absolutely indispensable.[32] In the same way, he seems to regard hair
as a rudiment, relatively speaking; for while its use on different
parts of the body of man, or even on the head, is not very apparent,
its use to the lower animals is very obvious. Why, then, is it not just
as rational, and just as much in accordance with proper scientific
reasoning, to suppose those parts of animal structure which are
called "rudiments" to have been introduced as mere sketches in the
organization of a very high animal, and then to have been developed
into special uses in lower animals produced by the degeneration of the
higher, as it is to suppose that they were developed in full activity
and use in the lower animals, but sank into the condition of useless
or comparatively useless appendages as the higher animal was evolved
out of the lower by a process of elevation? The modern naturalist of
the evolution school will doubtless say that "rudiments" in the human
structure, for which there is no assignable use that can be observed,
are not to be accounted for as sketches from which Nature was to work,
in finding for them a use in some other animal in a developed and
practically important condition; that, to the extent to which such
things are found in man, they are proofs of his cognate relations to
the lower animals, in which they have a palpable use; and that the
gradations by which they have proceeded from practical and important
uses in the lower animals, until they have become mere useless or
comparatively useless sketches in the human structure, are among the
proofs of the descent of man from the lower animals which had a use for
such things. I shall endeavor hereafter to examine the argument that
is derived from "rudiments" more closely. At present, the point which
I suggest to the mind of the reader arises in the parallel between
the Platonic and the Darwinian theory of the origin of the different
species of animals. I ask, why is it not just as probably a true
hypothesis to suppose that man was first created with these rudimentary
sketches in his organization, and that they became useful appendages
in the lower animals, into which man became degenerated, as it is to
suppose that these parts existed in full development, activity, and
practical use in the lower animals, out of whom man was generated,
and that in man they lost their utility and became relatively mere
rudiments? To my mind, neither theory has the requisite amount of
probability in its favor compared with the probability of special
creations; but I can see as much probability in the Platonic as in the
Darwinian explanation, and a strong parallelism between them.
I will pursue this parallel somewhat further by again adverting to
Plato's idea of the origin of the human soul. He supposes it to have
been an immortal being, formed out of the eternal essence of Ideas
by the Demiurgus. He manifestly makes it an existence distinct from
matter, because he places its first abode in a heavenly mansion, where
it is in unison with the celestial harmonies and perfections of the
outer circle. This heavenly sphere is again to be its abode, after it
shall have been released from its temporary abode on earth, which has
been appointed to it for purposes of discipline and trial. At a fixed
time of birth it is brought down from its celestial abode and united
with a mortal body, that it may assert and prove its power to preside
over and govern that body according to the eternal laws of reason and
rectitude. If it fulfills this high duty, when the fastenings, which
have bound it to the mortal frame, are dissolved with the dissolution
of those which hold together the material structure, the soul flies
away with delight to its own peculiar star. If it fails in this high
duty, it is on the death of the first body transferred by a second
birth into a more degraded body, resembling that to which it has
allowed the first one to be debased. At length, somewhere in the
series of transmigrations, the lower and bestial tendencies cease to
have power over the immortal soul; the animal with which it was last
united remains an animal bereft of reason, and the soul, released from
further captivity, escapes to its original abode in the heavens, more
or less contaminated by what it has undergone, but still immortal,
indestructible, spiritual, and capable of purification.
Here, then, we have a conception of the origin and nature of the human
soul as a spiritual existence, quite as distinctly presented as it can
be by human reason. Stripped of the machinery by which Plato supposes
the soul to have come into existence, his conception of its origin and
nature is the most remarkable contribution which philosophy, apart
from the aid of what is called inspiration, has made to our means of
speculating upon this great theme. Of course, it affords, with all the
machinery of which Plato makes use, no explanation of the point or the
time of junction between the soul and the body. But, as a conception
of what in the poverty of language must be called the substance of
the soul, of its spiritual and immortal nature, of its distinctive
existence separate from what we know as matter, whether Plato borrowed
more or less from other philosophers who preceded him, it is a very
distinct presentation of the nature of the human mind.
Turn now to what can be extracted from the Darwinian theory of the
origin and nature of the human mind, and observe where it holds with
and where it breaks from the parallelism between it and the Platonic
theory. The doctrine of evolution, so called, presents to us no
distinct suggestion that the mind of man is a separate and special
creation. Rejecting, and very properly rejecting, the Platonic idea of
an existence of the human soul anterior to the birth of the individual,
the Darwinian theory supposes that in the long course of time, during
which natural and sexual selection were operating to produce higher and
still higher animals, there came about, in the earlier and primitive
organizations, a habit of the animal to act in a certain way; that this
habit descended to offspring; that it became developed into what is now
called instinct; and that instinct became developed into what we now
call mind. I know not how otherwise to interpret Mr. Darwin's repeated
affirmations that, in comparing the mental powers of man and those of
the lower animals, there can be detected no difference in kind, but
that the difference is one of degree only; that there is no fundamental
difference, or difference in nature, between the mental powers of
an ape and a man, or between the mental power of one of the lowest
fishes, as a lamprey or lancelet, and that of one of the higher apes;
that both of these intervals, that between the ape and man, and that
between the lancelet and the ape, which are much wider in the latter
case than in the former, are filled up by numberless gradations.[33] If
this be true, it must be because the lancelet, supposing that animal to
be the progenitor, formed a habit of acting by an implanted impulse,
which became, under the operation of natural and sexual selection,
confirmed, developed, and increased in its descendants, until it not
only amounted to what is called instinct, but took on more complex
habits until something akin to reason was developed. As the higher
animals continued to be evolved out of the lower, this approach to
a reasoning power became in the ape a true mental faculty; and, at
length, in the numberless gradations of structure intermediate between
the ape and the man, we reach those intellectual faculties which
distinguish the latter by an enormous interval from all the other
animals. "If," says Mr. Darwin, "no organic being, excepting man, had
possessed any mental power, or if his powers had been of a wholly
different nature from those of the lower animals, then we never should
have been able to convince ourselves that our high faculties had been
gradually developed. But it can be shown that there is no fundamental
difference of this kind."[34]
I will not here ask how far this is theoretical assumption. I shall
endeavor to examine in another place the evidence which is supposed
to show that the mental powers of man are in no respect fundamentally
different, or different in kind, from the powers in the other animals
to which the distinguished naturalist gives the name of "mental"
powers. At present I am still concerned with the parallelism between
the Platonic and the Darwinian theory; and I again ask whether the
latter is not the former reversed, in respect to the process by which
reason in the one case becomes lost, and that by which in the other
case it becomes developed out of something to which it bears no
resemblance? Plato supposes the creation of pure reason, or mental
power, in the shape--to use the counterpart of a physical term--of
a non-physical, spiritual intelligence, or mind. It remains always
of this nature, but the successive animals which it is required to
inhabit on earth undergo such degradations that the immortal reason
loses in them the power to control their actions; nothing is left to
govern in them but mere instinct, and this at last sinks into its
lowest manifestations. Darwin, on the other hand, supposes the first
creation to have been a very low animal of a fish-like structure, with
the lowest capacity for voluntary action of any kind, but impelled to
act in a certain way by superimposed laws of self-preservation; that
in the infinitude of successive generations these laws have operated
to produce numberless gradations of structure, in the growth of which
fixed habits have become complex instincts; that further gradations
have developed these instincts into something of mental power, as the
successive higher animals have become evolved out of the lower ones,
until at length the intellect of man has been "gradually developed" by
a purely physical process of the action of organized matter.
This materialistic way of accounting for the origin of the human
mind necessarily excludes the idea of its separate creation or its
distinctive character. The theory is perfectly consistent with itself,
in supposing that the mind of man does not differ in kind, or differ
fundamentally, from those exhibitions which in the lower animals lead
us to attribute to them some mental power. But whether the theory is
consistent with what we know of our own minds, as compared with what
we can observe in the other animals, is the real question. In the
first place, it is to be remembered that we can read our own minds, by
the power of consciousness and reflection. In the next place, it is
conceded that we can know nothing of the minds of the other animals,
excepting by their outward actions. They can not speak, to tell us
of their emotions, their memories, their fears, their hopes, their
desires, what they think, or whether they think at all. They do acts
which wonderfully resemble the acts of man, in outward appearance,
as if they were acts which proceeded from the same power of reason
but in a less perfect degree; yet they can tell us nothing of their
mental processes, if they have such processes, and the utmost that we
can do is to argue from their acts that they have mental faculties
akin to those of men. It is in the ordained nature of things that we
know and can know, by introspection, what our own minds are. We can
know the mind of no other animal excepting from his outward acts. How
far these will justify us in assuming that his mind is of the same
nature as ours, or that ours is an advanced development of his, is the
fundamental question.
Plato was evidently led, by that study of the human mind which is open
to all cultivated intellects through the process of consciousness
and reflection, to conceive of the soul as a created intelligence of
a spiritual nature. The fanciful materials out of which he supposes
it to have been composed were the mere machinery employed to express
his conception of its spiritual nature and its indestructible
existence. He was led to employ such machinery by his highly
speculative and constructive tendencies, and because it was the habit
of Greek philosophy to account for everything. Some machinery he was
irresistibly impelled to employ, in order to give due consistency to
his theory. But his machinery in no way obscures his conception of
the nature of the soul, and we may disregard it altogether and still
have left the conception of a spiritual and immortal being, formed for
separate existence from matter, but united to matter for a temporary
purpose of discipline and trial.
The modern naturalist, on the other hand, although assuming the
existence of the Omnipotent God, supposes the human mind to have become
what it is by the action of organized matter beginning at the lowest
point of animal life, and going on through successive gradations of
animal structure, until habits are formed which become instincts, and
instincts are gradually developed into mind. Take away the machinery
that is employed, and you have left no conception of the immortal and
indestructible nature of the human soul. The material out of which it
is constructed is all of the earth earthy, and the twofold question
arises: first, whether this was the probable method employed by the
Omnipotent Creator; and, secondly, whether it will account for such an
existence as we have reason to believe the mind of man to be.
There is another point in the parallel between the Platonic and the
Darwinian systems which is worthy of note. We have seen that, according
to Plato, when the Demiurgus had completed the construction of the
Kosmos and that of the human soul, he retired and left to the gods the
construction of a mortal body for man and of bodies of the inferior
animals into which man would become degraded. According to Darwin,
the Omnipotent God constructs some very low form of animal, and then,
retiring from the work of direct creation, he leaves the laws of
natural and sexual selection to operate in the production of higher
animals through the process that is called evolution. Perhaps it may be
unscientific to ask why the Omnipotent God should cease to exercise,
or refrain from exercising, his power of special creation, after he
has once exerted it. Perhaps there is some view of the nature and
purposes of that infinite being which would render such an abstention
from his powers a probable occurrence. But it is difficult to conceive
what this view can be. If we take a comprehensive survey of all the
facts concerning the animal kingdom that are within the reach of our
observation; and if, then, in cases where we know of no intermediate
or transitional states, we assume that they must have existed; if we
array the whole in support of a certain theory which undertakes to
account both for what we see and for what we do not see, we very easily
reach the conclusion that the Omnipotent God performed but one act of
special creation, or at most performed but a very few of such acts,
and those of the rudest and simplest types, and then left all the
subsequent and splendid exhibitions of animal structure to be worked
out by natural selection. This is the scientific method adopted by the
evolution school to account for the existence of all the higher animals
of which we have knowledge, man included. It may be very startling, but
we must acknowledge it as the method of action of the Omnipotent God,
because it is said there is no logical impossibility in it.
There is a passage in Mr. Darwin's "Origin of Species" which I must now
quote, because it shows how strongly the supposed action and abstention
of the infinite Creator, according to the Darwinian theory, resembles
the action and abstention of Plato's Demiurgus: "Although the belief
that an organ so perfect as the eye could have been formed by natural
selection, is enough to stagger any one; yet in the case of any organ,
if we know of a long series of gradations in complexity, each good for
its possessor; then, under changing conditions of life, there is no
logical impossibility in the acquirement of any conceivable degree of
perfection through natural selection. In the cases in which we know of
no intermediate or transitional states, we should be extremely cautious
in concluding that none can have existed, for the metamorphoses of many
organs show what wonderful changes in function are at least possible.
For instance, a swim-bladder has apparently been converted into an
air-breathing lung. The same organ having performed simultaneously
very different functions, and then having been in part or in whole
specialized for one function; and two distinct organs having performed
at the same time the same function, the one having been perfected while
aided by the other, must often have largely facilitated transitions."
Here, then, we have it propounded that after the creation of the
rudest and simplest form of a visual organ, the infinite God abstains
from direct and special creation of such a perfect and elaborate
organ as the human eye, and leaves it to be worked out by natural
selection; there being no logical impossibility, it is said, in this
hypothesis. We are cautioned not to conclude, because we can not find
the intermediate and transitional states of the visual organs, that
they never existed; we are told that they are at least possible, and
that analogies show they must have existed; and from the possibility of
their existence and from the assumption that they happened, we are to
believe that the Omnipotent God, refraining from the exercise of his
power to create the human eye, with its wondrously perfect structure,
left it to be evolved by natural selection out of the rudest and
simplest visual organ which he directly fashioned.
All things are possible to an infinite Creator. He who made the visual
organ of the lowest aquatic creature that ever floated could make the
human eye as we know it, or could make one that would do more than
the eye of man ever was capable of. He could by a direct exercise of
his power of creation form the eye of man, or he could leave it to be
evolved out of the only type of a visual organ on which he saw fit
to exercise his creative power. He could create in the land-animals
a true air-breathing lung as a special production of his will, or
could permit it to be formed by transitional gradations out of the
swim-bladder of an aquatic creature. But why should he abstain from the
one method and employ the other? This question brings us at once to
the probabilities of the case; and, in estimating those probabilities,
we must take into the account all that reason permits us to believe
of the attributes of the Almighty. We can not, it is true, penetrate
into his counsels without the aid of revelation. But if we confine
ourselves to the domain of science, or to the mere observation of
nature, we shall find reason for believing that the Omnipotent God
had purposes in his infinite wisdom that render the acts of special
creation vastly more probable than the theory of evolution. A study of
the animal kingdom and of all the phenomena of the universe leads us
rationally and inevitably to one of two conclusions: either that there
is no God, and that all things came by chance; or to the belief that
there is a God, and that he is a being of infinite benevolence as well
as infinite wisdom and power. Now, why should such a being, proposing
to himself the existence on earth of such an animal as man, to be
inhabited for a time by a soul destined to be immortal, abstain from
the direct creation of both soul and body, and leave the latter to be
evolved out of the lowest form of animal life, and the former to become
a mere manifestation or exhibition of phenomena, resulting from the
improved and more elaborate structures of successive types of animals?
Is there no conceivable reason why an infinitely wise, benevolent, and
omnipotent being should have chosen to exercise the direct power of
creation in forming the soul of man for an immortal existence, and also
to exercise his direct power of creation in so fashioning the body as
to fit it with the utmost exactness to be serviceable and subservient
to the mind which is to inhabit it for a season? Why depict the
infinite God as a quiescent and retired spectator of the operation of
certain laws which he has imposed upon organized matter, when there are
discoverable so many manifest reasons for the special creation of such
a being as man? It is hardly in accordance with any rational theory of
God's providence, after we have attained a conception of such a being,
to liken him intentionally or unintentionally to the Demiurgus of the
acute and ingenious Greek philosopher. We must conclude that human
society, with all that it has done or is capable of doing for man on
earth, was in the contemplation of the Almighty; and if we adopt this
conclusion, we must account for the moral sense, for moral obligation,
and for the idea of law and duty. We can not account for these things
upon any probable theory of their origin, if we reject the idea that
they were specially implanted in the structure of the human soul, and
suppose that both the intellectual faculties and the moral sense were
evolved out of the struggle of lower animals for their existence,
resulting in the formation of higher animals and in the development
of their social instincts into more complex, refined, and consciously
calculating instincts of the same nature.
I have not drawn this parallel between the Platonic and the Darwinian
theories of the origin of different animals for any purpose of
suggesting that the one was in any sense borrowed from the other.
Plagiarism, in any form, is not, so far as I know, to be detected in
the writings of the evolution school. But the speculations of Plato in
regard to the origin and nature of the human soul, fanciful as they
are, afford great assistance in grasping the conception of a spiritual
existence; and the parallel between his process of degradation and
Darwin's process of elevation shows to my mind as great probability in
the one theory as there is in the other.
FOOTNOTES:
[12] Rotation was considered the movement most conformable to reason
and intelligence, and it is impracticable to any figure but the
spherical. Grote, iii, 253.
[13] The primitive gods of Plato's conception (in the "Timæus") are
not to be confounded with the gods of the poetic and popular faith.
As Mr. Grote has pointed out, there is nothing more remarkable in
Plato's writings than the subtilty and skill with which he contrived
to elude the charge of impiety and infidelity toward the gods of
tradition and of the popular faith. In a passage of the "Timæus,"
on which Mr. Grote seems to be in doubt whether it was ironical or
sincere, Plato boldly confronts the difficulty by saying that we
must believe competent witnesses whose testimony we have, respecting
the genesis of the remaining gods who have personal names and were
believed in by his contemporaries. For his own part, he says, he does
not pretend to account for their generation. The sons of the gods,
the heroic and sacred families, who must have known their own fathers
and all about their own family affairs, have given us their family
traditions, and we must obey the law and believe. But concerning
the primitive gods, the first progenitors of the remaining gods,
we are at liberty to speculate. The ingenuity of this admission of
authority where authority has spoken, reconcilable with speculation
upon matters on which authority has not spoken, is admirable. Plato,
as Mr. Grote has observed, was willing to incur the risk of one count
of the indictment which was brought against his master Socrates,
that of introducing new divine persons. In legal parlance he might
have demurred to this count, as not charging any offense against the
established religion. But the other count, for not acknowledging the
gods whom the city acknowledged, he did not choose to encounter. As to
them, he prudently, and perhaps sarcastically, accepts the testimony
of witnesses who speak by inspiration and authority. But as to the
primitive gods, the progenitors of the gods from whom were descended
the heroic and sacred families of men, he expresses in the "Timæus"
his own convictions, without appealing to authority and without
intimating that he is speaking of mysteries beyond the comprehension
of his reason. The boldness of this flight beyond all authority into
the realms of pure reason is very striking, even if it does end in
nothing but probability, which is all that Plato claims for his theory.
[14] It must be remembered that, in the formation of the cosmical
soul, the ingredients were the eternal Ideas; of these there could be
a remnant after the cosmical soul was formed. But the cosmical body,
which was formed out of the material elements, comprehended the whole
of them, and there could be no remnant or surplus of them remaining
outside. But portions of them could be borrowed for a limited period
of mortal existence, and would return to their place in the Kosmos
when that existence terminated. If this distinction be carried along,
Plato will not be found to be inconsistent with himself.
[15] It does not distinctly appear what was to become of the rational
soul if it finally failed in the conflict with evil, at the lowest end
of the transmigration. Being immortal, it could not perish. But in
providing for it an opportunity of final success through all the forms
of animal life to which it might be condemned, it would seem that
Plato was pressed by a reluctance to encounter the idea of endless
misery. This point, however, does not obscure his explanation of the
process by which species of animals, and a succession of inferior
animals, came to exist.
[16] Mr. Grote has pointed out that in his other writings, notably
in the "Republic" and in the "Leges", Plato is not consistent with
this idea that the gods are responsible for the evil that man causes
to himself; and that in the "Timæus" he plainly makes the Demiurgus
responsible, because he brings, or allows to be brought, an immortal
soul down from its star, where it was living pure, intelligent, and in
harmony with reason, and makes it incur corruption, disturbance, and
stupidity, by junction with a mortal body and two mortal and inferior
souls.
[17] I have omitted the description of the influence of disease
induced by an over-indulgence of appetite, etc., in aiding the process
of debasement from the primitive type. The reader can find this
influence developed in Grote, or can consult the original Greek of
the "Timæus." It would appear that Plato considered the effect of all
the appetites, when too much indulged, as tending in the primitive
non-sexual type toward the development of that lower kind of animal
which the gods saw fit to treat as fit only to become woman.
[18] Grote.
[19] Grote's "Plato," iii, 282.
[20] See, as to the reception of the Platonic Demiurgus by the
Alexandrian Jews, first chapter.
[21] "Origin of Species," p. 428, American edition, from the sixth
English. New York: D. Appleton & Co., 1882.
[22] Mr. Darwin refers to Mr. Herbert Spencer's theory of "the
necessary acquirement of each mental power and capacity by gradation";
and indeed it is apparent that this class of philosophers have
constructed a theory which denies the creation of the human mind as a
spiritual essence, independent of matter, although some of them may
adhere to the idea that it was God who caused matter to evolve out of
its own action the substance or existence that we call mind.
[23] "Origin of Species," p. 69.
[24] For the illustrations of both kinds of selection I must refer the
reader to Mr. Darwin's works. In regard to birds, he makes the sexual
selection operate less by the "law of battle" among the males, or by
fighting, and more by the attractions of plumage and voice, by which
the males carry on their rivalry for the choice of the females in
pairing. But he attributes the same effect to the sexual selection in
birds as in the other animals, namely, the transmission to offspring,
and chiefly to the male offspring, of those peculiarities of structure
which have given to the male parent the victory over his competitors.
[25] A very low form of fish, without brain, vertebral column, or
heart, classed by the older naturalists among the worms. ("Descent of
Man," p. 159.) The technical name of the lancelet is _Amphioxus_.
[26] "Origin of Species," p. 146.
[27] The kangaroos and opossums are of this group.
[28] Animals with four hands.
[29] Animals which produce living young, and nourish them after birth
by milk from the teats of the mother.
[30] The lemur is one of a genus of four-handed mammals, allied to
the apes, baboons, and monkeys, but with a form approaching that of
quadrupeds.
[31] "Descent of Man," p. 165.--The reader will need to observe that
monkey is the popular name of the ape and the baboon. In zoölogy,
monkey designates the animals of the genus _Simia_, which have long
tails. The three classes are apes, without tails; monkeys, with long
tails; baboons, with short tails.
[32] Grote, iii, p. 276.
[33] "Descent of Man," p. 65.
[34] "Descent of Man," p. 65.