lapse of ages for the sake of bringing all his higher principles into
action. One of the latest events in the geological history of the earth
was a great submersion of the land, by which "terrestrial animal life
was extensively, if not universally, destroyed"; so that the creation of
the species now in being--at least, all the higher species--was "a
comparatively recent event, and one posterior, generally speaking, to
all the great natural transactions chronicled by geology." Science does
not contradict, it rather confirms, that voice of revelation or
tradition, which assigns about six thousand years as the period of man's
residence upon the earth. The action of the drama, then, is restricted
within moderate limits as to time, and the "natural agencies" and
"higher principles" must work fast in order to accomplish their task
within the prescribed period. One condition for the creation of a new
and permanent species, belonging to any of the higher orders, seems to
have escaped our author's notice; at least two individuals, a male and a
female, must have been evolved out of the next lower race, before the
new species could continue its kind. Apply these considerations to the
creation of man, who, according to our author's Scripture, was born of a
monkey. To suppose, that, at the first trial, an Adam and an Eve were
born near each other, so that they might have a chance of meeting in the
course of their lives, would look too much like the operation of
intelligence and design. On the theory of an organic creation by law, as
the monkey race is spread over large regions of the globe, we must
suppose that many of each sex were produced, and died childless, before
any Adam was happy enough to find an Eve. Then, at no very distant
period, within a few thousand years, the birth of a man from an animal
of a lower type was no very strange event. Probably it occurred so
often, that the monkeys themselves ceased to be astonished at it. And
yet, this tribe of animals, with all the benefit of large experience,
with increased numbers, and with all the requisite conditions fulfilled
at least as perfectly as they were at the earlier period of their
history, have not succeeded, in the three or four thousand years during
which they have been subject to the observation of intelligent beings,
in producing even a decent semblance of a man.
With the exposure of this crowning absurdity, we must close our direct
examination of this "History of Creation." We have not room to consider
some of the appendages to the theory, such as the assertion of the
essential unity of the human and the brute intellect, the denial of the
immaterial nature of mind, and the advocacy of the system of phrenology.
These absurd and degrading doctrines are naturally connected with the
atheistic hypothesis we have been considering. They are its legitimate
children. But they have already been refuted so often and so
conclusively, that any revival of them at the present day is hardly
deserving of notice. If we should stop here, then, it may fairly be left
to the judgment of our readers, whether we have not fulfilled the pledge
given at the outset, by showing that this theory is faulty at every
point, even when viewed from the author's own ground. The proposal of it
is no new thing. In one or another form, varying in particulars, but
agreeing in substance, it has been before the world ever since the days
of Democritus, and more especially of his follower, Epicurus. Lucretius
clothed it in sonorous and majestic verse, for it is a theme fitted
above all others to excite the fancy, and to receive the richest
embellishments from the imagination. Modern authors have promulgated it
again and again, with little other change than what was requisite to
adapt it to recent improvements in science, and to engraft upon it some
of their own favorite hypotheses and fancies. The version of it by the
French naturalist Lamarck was the latest and the most in vogue, till the
appearance of the present volume. So frequently has it been confuted,
that the revival of it at this late period seems little more than a
harmless exercise of ingenuity, a poetical and scientific dream, and one
need hardly take the pains to expose its assumptions and fallacies. The
violent suppositions which it involves only remind one of the remark
quoted from Pascal on a former page, that "unbelievers are the most
credulous persons in the world." If set forth only as a novel and
pleasing fancy, it may be classed with other ingenious fictions, that
are published without a thought of deception. But if seriously proposed,
it can be fitly characterized only by borrowing the homely but energetic
language of Dr. Bentley.
"And now that I have finished all the parts which I proposed to
discourse of, I will conclude all with a short application to the
atheists. And I would advise them, as a friend, to leave off this
dabbling and smattering in philosophy, this shuffling and cutting
with atoms. It never succeeded well with them, and they always come
off with the loss. Their old master, Epicurus, seems to have had
his brains so muddled and confounded with them, that he scarce ever
kept in the right way; though the main maxim of his philosophy was
to trust to his senses, and follow his nose. I will not take notice
of his doting conceit, that the sun and moon are no bigger than
they appear to the eye, a foot or half a yard over; and that the
stars are no larger than so many glow-worms. But let us see how he
manages his atoms, those almighty tools that do every thing of
themselves, without the help of a workman. When the atoms, says he,
_descend_ in infinite space (very ingeniously spoken, to make high
and low in infinity), they do not fall plumb down, but decline a
little from the perpendicular, either obliquely or in a curve; and
this declination, says he, from the direct line is the cause of our
liberty of will. But, I say, this declination of atoms in their
descent was itself either necessary or voluntary. If it was
necessary, how then could that necessity ever beget liberty? If it
was voluntary, then atoms had that power of volition before; and
what becomes then of the Epicurean doctrine of the fortuitous
productions of worlds? The whole business is contradiction and
ridiculous nonsense."--_Bentley's Works_, Vol. III., pp. 47, 48.
Custom and convenience lead us to speak of the "laws" of nature, and of
the "powers and forces" of brute matter; and few persons, in adopting
these phrases, are aware that they are using a figure of speech. Yet
nothing is more certain than that all the researches of science have not
been able to point out with certainty a single active cause apart from
the operation of mind. We discern nothing but regularity and similarity
of sequences; and the attribution of these effects to some occult
qualities in the atoms or molecules in which they are manifested is
wholly hypothetical, and even, when closely examined, is inconceivable.
For this reason we affirm, that the theory of our author, professing to
account for the whole work of creation "by the operation of law," is not
only unsound and baseless in its particulars, but, when scrutinized as a
whole, is absolutely unintelligible. _He attempts to account for a
string of hypothetical effects, such as spontaneous generation and the
transmutation of species, by a series of hypothetical and inconceivable
causes, such as the energies of lifeless matter._ Let any one conceive,
if he can, of any _power_, _energy_, or _force_ inherent in a lump of
matter,--a stone, for instance,--except this merely negative one, that
it always and necessarily remains in its present state, whether this be
of rest or motion. Let him point out, if he can, the _nexus_ between
what are usually denominated cause and effect in matter,--as when two
bodies are drawn towards each other, if they are in opposite states of
electricity. When he says that it is the _nature_, or _law_, of bodies
thus electrified to attract each other, he offers no explanation of the
phenomenon; he only refers it to a class of other results, of a similar
character, previously observed. It is not pretended, that all or any of
these results, formerly known, are more intelligible or explicable than
the one in question. But the latter is classed with them, because, from
their general similarity, from their taking place under the same
outward circumstances, it is reasonably supposed that _one_ cause,
whatever it may be, is common to them all. And this is the whole
business of the student of nature, to place together results which are
so similar, that we may attribute them to a common cause, without
assuming to know what that cause is. The sole office of science is the
theory, not of causation, but of classification. It is all reducible to
natural history, the essence of which consists in arrangement.
We are not attempting to perplex a plain matter of science by
introducing into its discussion a metaphysical subtilty. The principle
here contended for is one of the first dictates of the inductive
philosophy, and as such it has been frankly acknowledged and acted upon
by all the great improvers of science in modern days. When Newton
discovered that the planets circle round the sun in the same manner in
which a stone thrown by the hand describes a curve before reaching the
earth, he may be said to have _explained_ the former phenomenon by
bringing it into the same class with certain results which have long
been familiar to us. But the explanation was only relative, not
absolute. The latter phenomenon is, in reality, no more explicable than
the former; he did not pretend to know the _cause_ of the stone's
falling to the ground, any more than of the revolution of the planets.
It was something to be able to arrange these apparently heterogeneous
results in the same class, and gravity was a convenient name to apply to
the whole. But the supposition, that gravity was an occult cause,
inherent in matter, he earnestly repelled, and declared that it was
"inconceivable."[2] Franklin showed, that a thunder-cloud and the
charged conductor of an electrical machine manifested the same
phenomena, and might therefore be classed together; sparks were obtained
from both, Leyden jars were charged from them, other bodies were
attracted and repelled in a similar way, so that it was reasonable to
believe that the same agency was acting in both cases. What this agency
was he did not even guess. The _cause_ of electric action, whether in
the excited cloud, or the excited tube, was just as obscure as ever.
Chemists observed, that different substances, when brought into close
contact, sometimes remained distinct, and sometimes united with each
other in various but regular proportions; and these capacities of
coalescing with one class of bodies, and of remaining unaffected by
another, are called chemical "affinities." This is a convenient
generalization, and has properly received a specific name; though the
common appellation throws no light on the _cause_ of the phenomena,
which remains an impenetrable secret. To say that certain action is
_caused_ by the operation of chemical affinities is only to arrange it
with a large class of other observed appearances, equally obscure as to
their origin and essential character.
Let us go a step further, and suppose that the progress of discovery has
made known certain facts lying behind the phenomena in question, to
which they may all be referred. Let us suppose, that all bodies which
gravitate towards each other are found to be embosomed in a subtile,
ambient fluid, which connects them, as it were, into one system; that
the positive and negative states of electricity are resolvable into the
presence of two fluids standing in certain relations to each other; and
that substances show chemical affinity for each other only when they are
in opposite electrical conditions. Still, we have only advanced a step
in the generalization, and the real, efficient _cause_ of the
appearances is still hidden from us by an impenetrable veil. Gravitation
is now referred to the communication of motion by impulse; electricity,
to the combination and separation of different fluids; affinity, to the
attraction or repulsion of these fluids. The latter classes of phenomena
are more general, but not a whit more explicable, than the former. We
have now fewer causes to seek for, but not one of these few has been
discovered. When we have resolved electricity or gravitation into the
presence of an elastic medium, it is a mere figure of speech to say,
that we have discovered the _cause_ of the electric phenomena or of
gravity. That is just as far off as ever; for we have yet to discover
the principle whence flow _necessarily_ all the phenomena observable in
fluids. It is the sole end and the highest ambition of science to
discover as many as possible of the relationships which bind facts
together, and thus to carry the generalization to the farthest point.
Its office is not to discover causes, but to generalize effects. The
investigation of real causes is quite given up, as a hopeless
undertaking.
Observe, now, how all the phraseology employed in speaking of these
successive generalizations of science is borrowed from the action of
mind. The word _action_ itself has no real significance, except when
applied to the _doings_ of an intelligent agent; we cannot speak of the
doings of matter, as we could if the word _action_ were applicable to it
in any other than a figurative sense. Again, in speaking of the
similarity of facts and the regularity of sequences, we refer them to a
_law_ of nature, just as if they were sentient beings acting under the
will of a sovereign. Parts of pure matter--the chemical elements, for
instance--do not _act_ at all; being brute and inert, it is only by a
strong metaphor that they are said to be subject to law. Again, we
attribute _force_, _power_, &c., to the primitive particles of matter,
and speak of their natural _agencies_. Just so, we talk of _tone_ in
coloring, and of a _heavy_ or _light_ sound; though, of course, in their
proper significance, tone belongs only to sound, and heaviness to
gravitating bodies. These modes of speech are proper enough, if their
figurative character be kept in view; but it is a little too bad, when a
whole scientific theory is made to rest upon a metaphor as its sole
support. _Agency_ is the employment of one intelligent being to act for
another; _force_ and _power_ are applicable only to will; they are
characteristic of volition. It is a violent trope to apply either of
these words to senseless matter. Chemical _affinities_ are spoken of, as
if material elements were united by family ties, and manifested choice,
and affection or aversion.
An obvious corollary from these remarks is, that all _causation_ is an
exertion of mind, and is only figuratively applied to matter. It
necessarily implies power, will, and action. An efficient cause--we are
not speaking now of a mere antecedent--is that which is necessarily
followed by the effect, so that, if it were known, the effect might be
predicted antecedently to all experience. Cicero describes it with
philosophical accuracy. "_Causa ea est, quae id efficit, cujus est
causa._ _Non sic causa intelligi debet, ut quod cuique antecedat, id ei
causa sit; sed quod cuique_ EFFICIENTER _antecedat. Causis enim
efficientibus quamque rem cognitis, posse denique sciri quid futurum
esset._" Now, in the world of matter, we discover nothing but
antecedents and consequents; the former are the mere signs, not the
causes, of the latter; no necessary connection--no connection at all,
except sequence in time--can be discerned between them. Consequently,
from an examination of the former, we could not determine _a priori_,
that they must be followed by the latter, or by any other result
whatever. Our knowledge here, if knowledge it can be called, is wholly
empirical, or founded on experience. As we have seen, it is absurd to
say, that one atom of matter literally _acts_ on another. On the other
hand, in the world of mind, we are directly conscious of action, and
even of causation. All mental exertion is true action; every
determination of the will implies _effort_, or the direction and use of
power. The result to be accomplished is preconsidered, or meditated, and
therefore is known _a priori_, or before experience; the volition
succeeds, which is a true effort, or a power in action; and this, _if
the power be sufficient_, is _necessarily_ followed by the effect.
Volition is a true cause; but in a finite mind it is not always an
_adequate_ cause. If I will to shut my eyes, the effect immediately
follows as a necessary consequence. But if I will to stop the beating of
my heart, or to move a paralyzed limb, the effect does not follow,
because the power exerted is inadequate to the end proposed. The action
of the will is still _causative_, but it is _insufficient_.
It was from overlooking the distinction here made, that Hume, Kant, and
other metaphysicians were led to deny all knowledge of causation even in
the action of mind. They confounded sufficiency with efficiency, and
supposed, because the power did not always accomplish the end proposed,
that it did not tend towards it, or exert any effect upon it. As the
sufficiency of the volition can only be known _a posteriori_, or after
experience, they imagined that there could be no cause but that which is
infinite, or one which is invariably followed by the whole effect
contemplated. They overlooked the fact, that, in the consciousness of
_effort_,--as in the attempt to control the action of mind, to command
the attention, &c.,--we have direct and full evidence of _power in
action_, which is necessarily causal in its nature. The mental _nisus_
is true force, exerted with a foreknowledge of the effect to be
produced, and necessarily followed by a result,--a partial one it may
be,--but one which is a true effect, whether it answers the whole
intention, or not. Here, then, we discern that necessary connection
between two events, that absolute efficient agency, which was vainly
sought in the world of matter.
If these considerations are well founded, the whole framework of what
are called "secondary causes" falls to pieces. The laws of nature are
only a figure of speech; the powers and active inherent properties of
material atoms are mere fictions. Mind alone is active; matter is wholly
passive and inert. There is no such thing as what we usually call the
course of nature; it is nothing but the will of God producing certain
effects in a constant and uniform manner; which mode of action, however,
being perfectly arbitrary, is as easy to be altered at any time as to be
preserved. All events, all changes, in the external world, from the
least even unto the greatest, are attributable to his will and power,
which, being infinite, is always and necessarily adequate to the end
proposed. The laws of motion, gravitation, affinity, and the like, are
only expressions of the regularity and continuity of one infinite cause.
The order of nature is the effect of divine wisdom, its stability is the
result of divine beneficence.
"Estne Dei sedes nisi terra, et pontus, et aer,
Et coelum, et virtus? Superos quid quaerimus ultra?
Jupiter est quodcunque vides, quocunque moveris."
It may be asked, if divine power, instead of operating immediately
throughout the universe, might not have endowed material atoms at the
outset with certain properties and energies, the gradual evolution of
which in after ages would produce all the phenomena of nature, without
the necessity of his incessant presence, agency, and control. Certainly,
we may not put bounds to omnipotence; though we may assert of a given
hypothesis respecting its exercise, that it is inconceivable, or
involves wholly incongruous ideas. The necessary attributes of matter,
according to our conception of it, are extension, figure,
impenetrability, and inertness; the properties of mind are thought,
sensation, activity, and will. These attributes are essential, not
arbitrary or contingent; for they make up our whole idea of the
substances in which they inhere. We can no more suppose them to be
interchangeable, than we can literally attribute dimensions to an odor,
or capacity to a sound. To speak of an extended thought, an impenetrable
sensation, an inert activity, is to talk nonsense; it is equally absurd
to attribute thought to extension, sensation to figure, activity to
inertness,[3] or causal agency to matter. True, mind may be superadded
to matter, without being confounded with it, and without any exchange of
properties. And in fact, this is the only conceivable form of the
hypothesis now before us; namely, the theory of the ancient
metaphysicians, that every particle of matter and every aggregate of it
is accompanied, or animated, by a distinct mind. "_Ea quoque [sidera]
rectissime et animantia esse, et sentire atque intelligere, dicantur._"
If this be a more intelligible and plausible supposition than that of
one infinite mind, pervading the universe, and producing all physical
changes by its irresistible power, the materialist is welcome to the
benefit of it.
As respects the manner in which all physical effects are produced by the
direct action of the Deity, we are not bound to offer any explanation,
as the subject confessedly transcends the limit of the human faculties.
It is enough for us, that the supposition is the only conceivable one,
the only mode of accounting for the phenomena of the material world. But
as man is made in the image of his Creator, in the union for a time of
his spirit with his corporeal frame we may find at least an intelligible
illustration of the connection of God with the universe. Discarding the
word _mind_, as the fruitful source of vague speculation and error, let
us look for a moment at that of which it is a mere synonyme,--at the man
himself. The sentient, thinking being, which I call _self_, is an
absolute unit. Duality or complexity cannot be predicated of it in any
intelligible sense. Personality is indivisible; _I_ am _one_. This being
is capable of acting in different ways; and for convenience of speech
and classification, these modes of action have been arranged as the
results of different faculties; though, in truth, it is no more proper
to attribute to the person distinct powers and organs for comparison,
memory, and judgment, than to give to the body separately a walking
faculty, a lifting faculty, a jumping faculty, and so on. In the one
case, these faculties are but different aspects of mental power; in the
other, but different applications of muscular strength. Of course, the
complex material frame, with its numberless adaptations and
arrangements, in which this being is lodged, is truly foreign from the
man himself, having a kind of connection with him, in reality, but one
degree more intimate than that of his clothes. The body is the curiously
contrived machine through which the man communicates with the material
world. The eye is but his instrument to see with, the ear is his trumpet
for communicating sound to him, the leg is his steed, and the arm his
soldier. Many of these instruments and parts may be removed, or become
unfit for use, without impairing, in the slightest degree, his distinct
personality and intelligence. The particles of all of them are in a
state of constant flux and renovation, so that man changes his body only
a little more frequently than he does his coat. His whole corporeal
frame is connected with him but for a while, and is then thrown aside,
like an old garment, for which he has no farther use.