"The grassy clods now calved, now half appeared

The tawny lion, pawing to get free

His hinder parts, then springs as broke from bonds,

And rampant shakes his brindled mane; the ounce,

The libbard, and the tiger, as the mole

Rising, the crumbled earth above them threw

In hillocks: the swift stag from underground

Bore up his branching head: scarce from his mould

Behemoth, biggest born of earth, up heaved

His vastness."

In this description Milton probably represented the ideas of his day--a

day penetrated with literal interpretation of the Scripture, though it

is well to recall to our minds the fact that not one word or idea of the

above is contained in the Bible. The only suggestion is that the body of

Adam was fashioned from the "slime of the earth," the precise meaning of

which phrase has never been defined by the Church.

Again, we have to say that the Miltonic scheme is not impossible, any

more than any other scheme is impossible, but we may further say that it

is more than improbable, and with every reverence we may add that to us

it does not seem to be specially consonant with the greatness and wisdom

of God. There remains the derivative form of creation, compendiously

styled evolution. That this also is a possible method of creation no one

will deny, and it has been discussed as such by many of the greatest

thinkers in the history of the Church. We can consider it, therefore,

from the point of fact or of knowledge as we now possess it, and we can

do so without imagining that, in so doing, we are contemplating a method

which is anything else but the carrying out of a creative plan, existing

perfect and complete and from all eternity in the mind of the Being

Whose conception it was and by whose _fiat_ it came to pass. Moreover,

each form produced is a special creation, since it was specially

designed to be as it is and to appear when it did, just as the

clockmaker intends his clock to strike twelve at noon, though he can

hardly be said to make it strike at that moment. Hence to place special

creation in antagonism to evolution is really to use an ambiguous

phraseology. No doubt it is not easy to find the proper phraseology.

Some have employed the terms "immediate" and "mediate," to which also a

certain amount of ambiguity is attached. Perhaps "direct" and

"derivative" might convey more accurate ideas; but whatever terminology

we adopt, we are still safe in saying that whether God makes things or

makes them make themselves He is creating them and specially creating

them.

This is not the place to enter into any elaborate discussion as to the

truth of the theory of evolution. Few will be found to deny the

statement that it is a theory which _does_ explain Nature as we see it

and as we learn its history in the past, but that does not necessarily

prove that it is true. St. Thomas Aquinas, dealing with the movements of

the planets, makes a very important statement when he tells us, in so

many words, that, though the hypothesis with which he is dealing would

explain the appearances which he was seeking to explain, that does not

prove that it is the true explanation, since the real answer to the

riddle may be one then unknown to him. There are, however, one or two

points it may be useful to consider before we leave the question.

That evolution may occur within a class seems to be quite certain. The

case of the Porto Santo rabbits, one of many cited by Darwin or brought

to knowledge since his time, will make clear what is meant. Porto Santo

is a small island, not far from Madeira, on which a Portuguese

navigator, named Zarco, let loose, somewhere about the year 1420, a doe

and a recently born litter of rabbits, which we may feel quite sure

belonged to one of those domestic breeds which have all been derived

from the wild rabbit of Europe known to zoologists as _Lepus Cuniculus_.

The island was a favourable spot for the rabbits, for there do not

appear to have been any carnivorous beasts or birds to harry them, nor

were there other land mammals competing with them for food; and, as a

result, we are told that they had so far increased and multiplied in

forty years as to be described as "innumerable." In four and a half

centuries these rabbits had become so different from any European

rabbits that Haeckel described them as a species apart, and named it

_Lepus Huxlei_. This rabbit is much smaller than the European form,

being described as more like a large rat than a rabbit. Its colour is

very different from its European relatives; it has curious nocturnal

habits; it is exceedingly wild and untamable. Most remarkable of all,

and most conclusive as to specific difference, Mr. Bartlett, the highly

skilled head keeper of the London Zoological Gardens, utterly failed to

induce the two males which were brought over to those gardens to

associate with or to breed with the females of various other breeds of

rabbits which were repeatedly placed with them. If the history of these

Porto Santo rabbits had been unknown to us, instead of being a matter as

to which there can be no doubt, every naturalist would at once have

accepted them as a separate species. We need not hesitate, it appears,

to do so and to admit that it is a new species which has been produced

within historic times and under conditions with which we are fully

acquainted. It may, however, be argued, and quite fairly argued, that

such a process of evolution, though definitely proved, is a very

different thing from such an evolution as would permit of a common

ancestry for animals so far apart, for example, as a whale and a rabbit,

or perhaps even nearer in relationship, as between a lion and a seal. To

discuss this further would require a dissertation on the highly involved

question of species and varieties, and that is not now to be attempted.

What, however, may be said is that the difficulties presented by what is

called phylogeny--that is, the relationships of different classes to one

another--are so great as to have led more than one man of science to

proclaim his belief that evolution has been poly--and not

mono--phyletic. Such is the view which has been enunciated by Father

Wasmann, S.J., whose authority on a point of this kind is paramount. It

has also been upheld by Professor Bateson, a man widely separated from

the Jesuit in all but attachment to science. Professor Bateson summed up

his belief in the text which he placed on the title-page of his first

great work on _Variation_: the text which proclaims that there is a

flesh of men, another of beasts, another of birds, another of fishes.

Darwin remained to the end of his life undecided between the two views,

for he allowed his original statement as to life having been breathed

into one or more forms by the Creator, to pass from edition to edition

of the _Origin of Species_. If the polyphyletic theory be adopted, it

must be said that the position of the materialist is made far more

difficult than it is at present. Let us see what it means. On the

materialistic hypothesis, and the same may be said of the pantheistic or

any other hypothesis not theistic in nature, a certain cell came by

chance to acquire the attributes of life. From this descended plants and

animals of all kinds in divergent series till the edifice was crowned by

man. I have elsewhere endeavoured to point out all that is involved in

this assumption, which, it must be confessed, is a very large mouthful

to swallow.

Let us now consider what the polyphyletic hypothesis involves. According

to this view one cell accidentally developed the attributes of vegetable

life; a further accident leads another cell to initiate the line of

invertebrates; another that of fishes, let us say; another of mammals:

the number varying according to the views of the theorist on phylogeny.

Let us not forget that the cell or cells which accidentally acquired the

attributes of life, had accidentally to shape themselves from dead

materials into something of a character wholly unknown in the inorganic

world. If one seriously considers the matter it is--so it seems to

me--utterly impossible to subscribe to the accidental theory of which

the immanent god--the blind god of Bergson--is a mere variant. One must

agree with the late Lord Kelvin that "science positively affirms

creative power ... which (she) compels us to accept as an article of

belief." But what are we to say with regard to the series of repeated

accidents which the polyphyletic hypothesis would seem to demand? Is it

really possible that any man could bring himself to place credence in

such a marvellous series of occurrences? Monophyletic or polyphyletic

evolution, whichever, if either, it may have been, presents no

difficulty on the creation hypothesis.

The Divine plan might have embraced either method. It is not merely

revelation but ordinary reason which shows us that the wonderful things

which we know, not to speak of the far more wonderful things at which we

can only guess, cannot possibly be explained on any other hypothesis

than that of a Free First Cause--a Creator.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 35: _The Theory of Evolution._ By William Berryman Scott.

New York: The Macmillan Co.]

VIII. CATHOLIC WRITERS AND SPONTANEOUS GENERATION

The names of great Catholic men of science, laymen like Pasteur and

Müller, or ecclesiastics like Stensen and Mendel, are familiar to all

educated persons. But even educated persons, or at least a great

majority of them, are quite ignorant of the goodly band of workers in

science who were devout children of the Church. Nothing perhaps more

fully exemplifies this than the history of the controversy respecting

the subject whose name is set down as the title of this paper. For

centuries a controversy raged at intervals around the question of

spontaneous generation. Did living things originate, not merely in the

past but every day, from non-living matter? When we consider such things

as the once mysterious appearance of maggots in meat it is not wonderful

that in the days before the microscope the answer was in the

affirmative.

To-day the question may be considered almost closed. True, the negative

proposition cannot be proved, hence it is impossible to say that

spontaneous generation does not take place. However, the scientific

world is at one in the belief that so far all attempts to prove it have

failed utterly.

St. Thomas Aquinas had a celebrated and sometimes misunderstood

controversy with Avicenna, a very famous Arabian philosopher. It was a

philosophical, but not strictly scientific, controversy, for both

persons accepted or assumed the existence of spontaneous generation.

Avicenna claimed that it took place by the powers of Nature alone,

whilst St. Thomas adopted the attitude which we should adopt to-day,

were spontaneous generation shown to be a fact, namely, that if Nature

possessed this power, it was because the Creator had willed it so.

We come to close quarters with the question itself in 1668, when

Francesco Redi (1626-1697) published his book on the generation of

insects and showed that meat protected from flies by wire gauze or

parchment did not develop maggots, whilst meat left unprotected did.

From this and from other experiments he was led to formulate the theory

that in all cases of apparent production of life from dead matter the

real explanation was that living germs from outside had been introduced

into it. For a long time this view held the field. Redi was, as his name

indicates, an Italian, an inhabitant of Aretino, a poet as well as a

physician and scientific worker. He was physician to two of the Grand

Dukes of Tuscany and an academician of the celebrated _Accademia della

Crusca_. Those works which I have been able to consult on the subject

say nothing about his religion, but there can scarcely be any doubt

that he was a Catholic. At any rate there is no doubt whatever as to the

other persons now to be mentioned in connection with the controversy,

which again became active about a century after Redi had published his

book. The antagonists on this occasion were both of them Catholic

priests, and both of them deserve some brief notice.

John Turberville Needham (1713-1781) was born in London and belonged on

both sides to old Catholic families. He was educated at Douay and

ordained priest at Cambray in 1738. After teaching in that place for

some time he journeyed to England and became head-master of the once

celebrated school for Catholic boys at Twyford, near Winchester. From

there he went for a short time to Lisbon as professor of philosophy in

the English College. Subsequently he travelled with various Peers making

"the grand tour." After that he retired to Paris, where he was elected a

member of the _Académie des Sciences_. He was the first director of the

Imperial Academy in Brussels; a canon, first of Dendermonde and

afterward of Soignies. He died in Brussels and was buried in the Abbey

of Condenberg. Needham was a man of really great scientific attainments,

and perhaps nothing proves the estimation in which he was held more than

the fact that in 1746 he was elected a Fellow of the Royal Society,

being the first Catholic priest to become a member of that distinguished

body. When one remembers the attitude at that time, and much later, of

Englishmen towards Catholics it is clear that Needham's claims to

distinction must have been more than ordinarily great. His clear, firm

signature is still to be seen in the charter-book of the society, and it

is interesting to note that he signs his name "Turberville Needham."

Needham did not confine his attention to science, for he was an ardent

antiquary, and in 1761 was elected a Fellow of that other ancient and

exclusive body, the Society of Antiquaries of London. In this connection

it may be mentioned that Needham published, in 1761, a book which caused

a great sensation, for he endeavoured to show that he could translate an

Egyptian inscription by means of Chinese characters; in other words,

that the forms of writing were germane to one another. He was shown to

be quite wrong by some of the learned Jesuits of the day, who, with the

assistance of Chinese men of letters, proved that the resemblances to

which Needham had called attention were merely superficial.

But our interest now is in his controversy with Spallanzani. Lazaro

Spallanzani (1729-1799) was born at Scandiano in Modena and educated at

the Jesuit College at Reggio di Modena. There was some question as to

his entering the Society; he did not do so, however, but repaired to the

University of Bologna, where his kinswoman, Laura Bassi, was then

professor of physics. He became a priest, but devoted his life to

teaching and experimenting. He must have been something of what we in

Ireland used to call a "polymath," for he professed at one time or

another, in various universities, logic, metaphysics, Greek, and

finally natural history. He first explained the physics of what children

call "ducks and drakes" made by flat pebbles on water; laid the

foundations of meteorology and vulcanology, and is perhaps best of all

known in connection with what is termed "regeneration" in the earthworm

and above all in the salamander. His experiments still hold the field in

a region of study which has vastly extended itself in recent years,

becoming of prime importance in the vitalistic controversy.

In the dispute, however, with which we are concerned Needham and

Spallanzani defended opposite positions. The former, as the result of

his observations, asserted that, in spite of the boiling and sealing up

of organic fluids, life did appear in them. His opponent claimed that

Needham's experiments had not been sufficiently precise. The latter had

enclosed his fluids in bottles fitted with ordinary corks, covered with

mastic varnish, whilst Spallanzani, employing flasks with long necks

which he could and did seal by heat when the contents were boiling,

showed that in that case no life was produced. He declared, and

correctly too, as we now know, that Needham's methods did permit of the

introduction of something from without. The controversy went to sleep

again until the discovery of oxygen by Priestley in 1774. When it had

been shown that oxygen was essential to the existence of all forms of

life, the question arose as to whether the boiling of the organic fluids

in the earlier experiments had not expelled all the oxygen and thus

prevented the existence and development of any life.

In the further experiments which this query gave rise to, we meet with

another illustrious Catholic name, that of Theodor Schwann, better known

as the originator of that fundamental piece of scientific knowledge, the

cell-theory. Theodor Schwann (1810-1882) was born at Neuss and educated

by the Jesuits, first at Cologne, afterward at Bonn. After studying at

the Universities of Würzburg and Berlin he became professor in the

Catholic University of Louvain, where his name was one of the principal

glories of this now wrecked seat of learning. Thence he went as

professor to Liége, where he died. He was, says his biography in the

_Encyclopædia Britannica_, "of a peculiarly gentle and amiable character

and remained a devout Catholic throughout his life." Schwann's

experiments tended to show that the introduction of air--of course

containing oxygen--did not lead to the production of life, if the air

had first been thoroughly sterilised. It was thought that this question

had been finally answered, when it was reopened by Pouchet, in 1859. He

was a Frenchman, the director of the Natural History Museum of Rouen,

but as to his religious views I have no information. It is quite

probable, however, that he was a Catholic. Pouchet and all on his side

were finally--so far as there can be finality in such a matter--disposed

of by Pasteur, of whose distinction as a man of science and devoutness

as a Catholic nothing need be said.

It is quite unnecessary to devote any consideration here to the

character of Pasteur's experiments, for they have become a matter of

common knowledge to all educated persons. Let it suffice to say that

they were on the lines first laid down by Redi and greatly elaborated by

Spallanzani, namely the exclusion from the fluids or other substances

under examination of all possible contamination by minute organisms in

the air. Spallanzani knew nothing of these organisms; they were not

discovered until many years after his death. But he surmised that there

was something which brought corruption into the fluids; he excluded that

something, with the result that the fluids remained untainted. From our

point of view, however, there are several things to be learnt. In the

first place quite a number of ignorant persons have thought that the

discovery of spontaneous generation would upset religious dogmata. That

of course is quite absurd. From what has been said above it will be seen

that St. Thomas Aquinas--in common with all the men of learning of his

day--fully believed in it, as did Needham, another ecclesiastic as to

whose orthodoxy there is no doubt. Further, the entire controversy is a

complete confutation of the false allegation that between Catholicism

and science there is a great gulf set. There have been few longer and

more remarkable controversies in the history of science, and scarce any

other--if indeed any other--which has such important bearings upon

health and industry than that which relates to bio- or abio-genesis. It

is significant to find that the names of so many of the protagonists in

this controversy were those of men who were also convinced adherents of

the Catholic Church.

IX. A THEORY OF LIFE[36]

Of the making of books on the question of Vitalism there would seem to

be no end; and, following upon quite a number of others comes this

handsome, well-illustrated, intensely interesting book, by one whose

writings are always worth study. It purports to deal with the Origin and

Evolution of Life; but, as to the first, it leaves us in no way advanced

towards any real explanation of that problem on materialistic lines. As

to the second, though there is a vast amount of valuable information,

often illuminating and suggestive, again we confess that we fail to

discover any real philosophy of that process of evolution which the

author postulates. These propositions we must now proceed to justify. We

can consider them from the most rigidly scientific standpoint, since, if

every word or almost every word in the book were proved truth, it would

not make the slightest difference to Catholic Philosophy, nor, indeed,

to Theistic teachings, since in the imperishable words of Paley: "There

may be many second causes, and many courses of second causes, one behind

another, between what we observe of nature and the Deity; but there

must be intelligence somewhere; there must be more in nature than what

we see; and, amongst the things unseen, there must be an intelligent

designing Author."

The scientific writer has to remember that whilst he may explain many

things, his work is a torso unless and until he has either accepted the

Creator as the first Cause, which he is too often disinclined to do, or

has supplied an equally satisfactory explanation, which he is

permanently unable to do. On the other hand, at least some defenders of

Theism in the past might well have borne in mind that, whilst we are

assured of the fact of Creation, we know absolutely nothing of its

mechanism save that it came about by the command of God. There is

nothing in which clear thinking and clear writing are more necessary

than in discussions of this kind; and too many of them are vitiated by

an obvious lack of philosophical training on the part of the

participants. Even in this carefully written book there are instances of

this kind of thing to which we must allude before considering its main

arguments.

"We know, for example, that there has existed a more or less complete

chain of beings from monad to man, that the one-toed horse had a

four-toed ancestor, that man has descended from an unknown ape-like form

somewhere in the Tertiary." "We _know_"--that is exactly the opposite of

the truth. We _know_ a thing when it is susceptible of proof according

to the rigid rules of formal logic; when, to doubt it, would be to give

rise to a suspicion as to our sanity; then we _know_ a thing, but not

until then. Now, as to the sentence quoted, we may allow the first part

to pass unchallenged with some possible demur at the use of the word

"chain." The second so-called piece of knowledge was doubted by no less

an authority than the late Adam Sedgwick. The third assertion plainly

and distinctly is not the case; for Science _knows_ nothing whatsoever

about the origin of man's body. In 1901 Branco, a distinguished

palæontologist, with no Theistic leanings as far as we know, told the

world that man appears on our planet as "a genuine _homo novus_," and

that palæontology "knows no ancestors of man." Nor has any discovery

since that date necessitated the modification of that opinion. What the

writer means by saying "_We_ know" is "_I_ am convinced"; but, with the

deepest respect for his undoubted position, the two things are not quite

identical. "Biology, like theology, has its dogmas. Leaders have their

disciples and blind followers." Wise words! They are those of the author

with whom we are dealing. To say "we know" when really we only surmise

is a misuse of language, just as it is also a misuse to ask the question

"Does nature make a departure from its previously ordered procedure and

substitute chance for law?" since the ordinary reader is all too apt to

forget that "Nature" is a mere abstraction, and that to speak of Nature

doing such or such a thing helps us in no way along the road towards an

explanation of things.

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