In the last lecture we have noticed the general relations of agnostic
speculations with natural science, and have exposed their failure to
account for natural facts and laws. We may now inquire into their mode
of dealing with the phenomena of life, with regard to the supposed
spontaneous evolution of which, and its development up to man himself,
so many confident generalizations have been put forth by the agnostic
and monistic philosophy.
In the earlier history of modern natural science, the tendency was to
take nature as we find it, without speculation as to the origin of
living things, which men were content to regard as direct products of
creative power. But at a very early period--and especially after the
revelations of geology had disclosed a succession of ascending
dynasties of life--such speculations, which, independently of science,
had commended themselves to the poetical and philosophical minds of
antiquity, were revived. In France more particularly, the theories of
Buffon, Lamarck, and Geoffroy St. Hilaire opened up these exciting
themes, and they might even then have attained to the importance they
have since acquired but for the great and judicial intellect of
Cuvier, which perceived their futility and guided the researches of
naturalists into other and more profitable fields. The next stimulus
to such hypotheses was given by the progress of physiology, and
especially by researches into the embryonic development of animals and
plants. Here it was seen that there are homologies and likenesses of
plan linking organisms with each other, and that in the course of
their development the more complex creatures pass through stages
corresponding to the adult condition of lower forms. The questions
raised by the geographical distribution of animals, as ascertained by
the numerous expeditions and scientific travellers of modern times,
tended in the same direction. The way was thus prepared for the broad
generalizations of Darwin, who, seizing on the idea of artificial
selection as practised by breeders of animals and plants, and
imagining that something similar takes place in the natural struggle
for existence, saw in this a plausible solution for the question of
the progress and the variety of organized beings.
The original Darwinian theory was soon found to be altogether
insufficient to account for the observed facts, because of the
tendency of the bare struggle for existence to produce degradation
rather than elevation; because of the testimony of geology to the fact
that introduction of new species takes place in times of expansion
rather than of struggle; because of the manifest tendency of the
breeds produced by artificial selection to become infertile and die
out in proportion to their deviation from the original types; and
because of the difficulty of preventing such breeds from reverting to
the original forms, which seem in all cases to be perfectly
equilibrated in their own parts and adapted to external nature, so
that varieties tend, as if by gravitative law, to fall back into the
original moulds. A great variety of other considerations--as those of
sexual selection, reproductive acceleration and retardation, periods
of more and less rapid evolution, innate tendency to vary at
particular times and in particular circumstances--have been imported
into the original doctrine. Thus the original Darwinism is a thing of
the past, even in the mind of its great author, though it has proved
the fruitful parent of a manifold progeny of allied ideas which
continue to bear its name. In this respect Darwinism is itself
amenable to the law of evolution, and has been continually changing
its form under the influence of the controversial struggles which have
risen around it.
Darwinism was not necessarily atheistic or agnostic. Its author was
content to assume a few living beings or independent forms to begin
with, and did not propose to obtain them by any spontaneous action of
dead matter, nor to account for the primary origin of life, still less
of all material things. In this he was sufficiently humble and honest;
but the logical weakness of his position was at once apparent. If
creation was needed to give a few initial types, it might have
produced others also. The followers of Darwin, therefore, more
especially in Germany, at once pushed the doctrine back into
Agnosticism and Monism, giving to it a greater logical consistency,
but bringing it into violent conflict with theism and with common
sense.
Darwin himself early perceived that his doctrine, if true, must apply
to man--in so far, at least, as his bodily frame is concerned. Man is
in this an animal, and closely related to other animals. To have
claimed for him a distinct origin would have altogether discredited
the theory, though it might be admitted that, man having appeared, his
free volition and his moral and social instincts would at once
profoundly modify the course of the evolution. On the other hand, the
gulf which separates the reason and the conscience of man from
instinct and the animal intelligence of lower creatures opposed an
almost impassable barrier to the union of man with lower animals; and
the attempt to bridge this gulf threatened to bring the theory into a
deadly struggle with the moral, social, and religious instincts of
mankind. In face of this difficulty, Darwin and most of his followers
adopted the more daring course of maintaining the evolution of the
whole man from lower forms, and thereby entered into a warfare, which
still rages, with psychology, ethics, philology, and theology.
It is easy for shallow evolutionists unaware of the tendencies of
their doctrine, or for latitudinarian churchmen careless as to the
maintenance of truth if only outward forms are preserved and
comprehension secured, to overlook or make light of these antagonisms,
but science and common sense alike demand a severe adherence to
truth. It becomes, therefore, very important to ascertain to what
extent we are justified in adopting the agnostic evolution in its
relation to life and man on scientific grounds. Perhaps this may best
be done by reviewing the argument of Haeckel in his work on the
evolution of man--one of the ablest, and at the same time most
thorough, expositions of monistic evolution as applied to lower
animals and to men.
Ernst Haeckel is an eminent comparative anatomist and physiologist,
who has earned a wide and deserved reputation by his able and
laborious studies of the calcareous sponges, the radiolarians, and
other low forms of life. In his work on _The Evolution of Man_ he
applies this knowledge to the solution of the problem of the origin of
humanity, and sets himself not only to illustrate, but to "prove," the
descent of our species from the simplest animal types, and even to
overwhelm with scorn every other explanation of the appearance of man
except that of spontaneous evolution. He is not merely an
evolutionist, but what he terms a "monist," and the monistic
philosophy, as defined by him, includes certain negations and certain
positive principles of a most comprehensive and important character.
It implies the denial of all spiritual or immaterial existence. Man is
to the monist merely a physiological machine, and nature is only a
greater self-existing and spontaneously-moving aggregate of forces.
Monism can thus altogether dispense with a Creative Will as
originating nature, and adopts the other alternative of self-existence
or causelessness for the universe and all its phenomena. Again, the
monistic doctrine necessarily implies that man, the animal, the plant,
and the mineral are only successive stages of the evolution of the
same primordial matter, constituting thus a connected chain of being,
all the parts of which sprang spontaneously from each other. Lastly,
as the admixture of primitive matter and force would itself be a sort
of dualism, Haeckel regards these as ultimately one, and apparently
resolves the origin of the universe into the operation of a
self-existing energy having in itself the potency of all things. After
all, this may be said to be an approximation to the idea of a Creator,
but not a living and willing Creator. Monism is thus not identical
with pantheism, but is rather a sort of atheistic monotheism, if such
a thing is imaginable; and vindicates the assertion attributed to a
late lamented physical philosopher--that he had found no atheistic
philosophy which had not a God somewhere.
Haeckel's own statement of this aspect of his philosophy is somewhat
interesting. He says: "The opponents of the doctrine of evolution are
very fond of branding the monistic philosophy grounded upon it as
'materialism' by comparing _philosophical_ materialism with the wholly
different and censurable _moral_ materialism. Strictly, however, our
'monism' might as accurately or as inaccurately be called spiritualism
as materialism. The real materialistic philosophy asserts that the
phenomena of vital motion, like all other phenomena of motion, are
effects or products of matter. The other opposite extreme,
spiritualistic philosophy, asserts, on the contrary, that matter is
the product of motive force, and that all material forms are produced
by free forces entirely independent of the matter itself. Thus,
according to the materialistic conception of the universe, matter
precedes motion or active force; according to the spiritualistic
conception of the universe, on the contrary, active force or motion
precedes matter. Both views are dualistic, and we hold them both to be
equally false. A contrast to both is presented in the _monistic_
philosophy, which can as little believe in force without matter as in
matter without force."
It is evident that if Haeckel limits himself and his opponents to
matter and force as the sole possible explanations of the universe, he
may truly say that matter is inconceivable without force and force
inconceivable without matter. But the question arises, What is the
monistic power beyond these--the "power behind nature"? and as to the
true nature of this the Jena philosopher gives us only vague
generalities, though it is quite plain that he cannot admit a
Spiritual Creator. Further, as to the absence of any spiritual element
from the nature of man, he does not leave us in doubt as to what he
means; for immediately after the above paragraph he informs us that
"the 'spirit' and the 'mind' of man are but forces which are
inseparably connected with the material substance of our bodies. Just
as the motive-power of our flesh is involved in the muscular
form-element, so is the thinking force of our spirit involved in the
form-element of the brain." In a note appended to the passage, he says
that monism "conceives nature as one whole, and nowhere recognizes any
but mechanical causes." These assumptions as to man and nature
pervade the whole book, and of course greatly simplify the task of the
writer, as he does not require to account for the primary origin of
nature, or for anything in man except his physical frame; and even
this he can regard as a thing altogether mechanical.
It is plain that we might here enter our dissent from Haeckel's
method, for he requires us, before we can proceed a single step in the
evolution of man, to assume many things which he cannot prove. What
evidence is there, for example, of the possibility of the development
of the rational and moral nature of man from the intelligence and the
instinct of the lower animals, or of the necessary dependence of the
phenomena of mind on the structure of brain-cells? The evidence, so
far as it goes, seems to tend the other way. What proof is there of
the spontaneous evolution of living forms from inorganic matter?
Experiment so far negatives the possibility of this. Even if we give
Haeckel, to begin with, a single living cell or granule of protoplasm,
we know that this protoplasm must have been produced by the agency of
a living vegetable cell previously existing; and we have no proof
that it can be produced in any other way. Again, what particle of
evidence have we that the atoms or the energy of an incandescent
fire-mist have in them anything of the power or potency of life? We
must grant the monist all these postulates as pure matters of faith,
before he can begin his demonstration; and, as none of them are
axiomatic truths, it is evident that so far he is simply a believer in
the dogmas of a philosophic creed, and in this respect weak as other
men whom he affects to despise.
We may here place over against his authority that of another eminent
physiologist, of more philosophic mind, Dr. Carpenter, who has
recently said: "As a physiologist I must fully recognize the fact that
the physical force exerted by the body of man is not generated _de
novo_ by his will, but is derived directly from the oxidation of the
constituents of his food. But, holding it as equally certain--because
the fact is capable of verification by every one as often as he
chooses to make the experiment--that in the performance of every
volitional movement physical force is put in action, directed, and
controlled by the individual personality or _ego_, I deem it as absurd
and illogical to affirm that there is no place for a God in nature,
originating, directing, and controlling its forces by his will, as it
would be to assert that there is no place in man's body for his
conscious mind."
Taking Haeckel on his own ground, as above defined, we may next
inquire as to the method which he employs in working out his argument.
This may be referred to three leading modes of treatment, which, as
they are somewhat diverse from those ordinarily familiar to logicians
and are extensively used by evolutionists, deserve some illustration,
more especially as Haeckel is a master in their use.
An eminent French professor of the art of sleight-of-hand has defined
the leading principle of jugglers to be that of "appearing and
disappearing things;" and this is the best definition that occurs to
me of one method of reasoning largely used by Haeckel, and of which we
need to be on our guard when we find him employing, as he does in
almost every page, such phrases as "it cannot be doubted," "we may
therefore assume," "we may readily suppose," "this afterward assumes
or becomes," "we may confidently assert," "this developed directly,"
and the like, which in his usage are equivalent to the "_Presto!_" of
the conjurer, and which, while we are looking at one structure or
animal, enable him to persuade us that it has been suddenly
transformed into something else.
In tracing the genealogy of man he constantly employs this kind of
sleight-of-hand in the most adroit manner. He is perhaps describing to
us the embryo of a fish or an amphibian, and, as we become interested
in the curious details, it is suddenly by some clever phrase
transformed into a reptile or a bird; and yet, without rubbing our
eyes and reflecting on the differences and difficulties which he
neglects to state, we can scarcely doubt that it is the same animal,
after all.
The little lancelet, or _Amphioxus_ (see Fig. 1), of the European
seas--a creature which was at one time thought to be a sea-snail, but
is really more akin to fishes--forms his link of connection between
our "fish-ancestors" and the invertebrate animals. So important is it
in this respect that our author Waxes eloquent in exhorting us to
regard it "with special veneration" as representing our "earliest
Silurian vertebrate ancestors," as being of "our own flesh and blood,"
and as better worthy of being an object of "devoutest reverence" than
the "worthless rabble of so-called 'saints.'" In describing this
animal he takes pains to inform us that it is more different from an
ordinary fish than a fish is from a man. Yet, as he illustrates its
curious and unique structure, before we are aware, the lancelet is
gone and a fish is in its place, and this fish with the potency to
become a man in due time. Thus a creature intermediate in some
respects between fishes and mollusks, or between fishes and worms, but
so far apart from either that it seems but to mark the width of the
gap between them, becomes an easy stepping-stone from one to the
other.
[Illustration: FIG. 1.
The Lancelet (_Amphioxus_), the supposed earliest type of
vertebrate animal, and, according to Haeckel, the ancestor of
man. The figure is a section enlarged to twice the natural
size.
_a_, mouth;
_b_, anus;
_c_, gill-opening;
_d_, gill;
_e_, stomach;
_f_, liver;
_g_, intestine;
_h_, gill-cavity;
_i_, notochord, or rudimentary back-bone;
_k_, _l_, _m_, _n_, _o_, arteries and veins.]
In like manner, the ascidians, or sea-squirts--mollusks of low grade,
or, as Haeckel prefers to regard them, allied to worms--are most
remote in almost every respect from the vertebrates. But in the young
state of some of these creatures, and in the adult condition of one
animal referred to this group (_Appendicularia_), they have a sort of
swimming tail, which is stiffened by a rod of cartilage to enable it
to perform its function, and which for a time gives them a certain
resemblance to the lancelet or to embryo fishes; and this usually
temporary contrivance--curious as an imitative adaptation, but of no
other significance--becomes, by the art of "appearing and
disappearing," a rudimentary backbone, and enables us at once to
recognize in the young ascidian an embryo man.
A second method characteristic of the book, and furnishing, indeed,
the main basis of its argument, is that of considering analogous
processes as identical, without regard to the difference of the
conditions under which they may be carried on. The great leading use
of this argument is in inducing us to regard the development of the
individual animal as the precise equivalent of the series of changes
by which the species was developed in the course of geological time.
These two kinds of development are distinguished by appropriate names.
_Ontogenesis_ is the embryonic development of the individual animal,
and is, of course, a short process, depending on the production of a
germ by a parent animal or parent pair, and the further growth of this
germ in connection more or less with the parent or with provision made
by it. This is, of course, a fact open to observation and study,
though some of its processes are mysterious and yet involved in doubt
and uncertainty. _Phylogenesis_ is the supposed development of a
species in the course of geological time and by the intervention of
long series of species, each in its time distinct and composed of
individuals each going regularly through a genetic circle of its own.
The latter is a process not open to observation within the time at our
command--purely hypothetical, therefore, and of which the possibility
remains to be proved; while the causes on which it must depend are
necessarily altogether different from those at work in ontogenesis,
and the conditions of a long series of different kinds of animals,
each perfect in its kind, are equally dissimilar from those of an
animal passing through the regular stages from infancy to maturity.
The similarity, in some important respects, of ontogenesis to
phylogenesis was inevitable, provided that animals were to be of
different grades of complexity, since the development of the
individual must necessarily be from a more simple to a more complex
condition. On any hypothesis, the parallelism between embryological
facts and the history of animals in geological time affords many
interesting and important coincidences. Yet it is perfectly obvious
that the causes and the conditions of these two successions cannot
have been the same. Further, when we consider that the embryo-cell
which develops into one animal must necessarily be originally
distinct in its properties from that which develops into another kind
of animal, even though no obvious difference appears to us, we have no
ground for supposing that the early stages of all animals are alike;
and when we rigorously compare the development of any animal whatever
with the successive appearance of animals of the same or similar
groups in geological time, we find many things which do not
correspond--not merely in the want of links which we might expect to
find, but in the more significant appearance, prematurely or
inopportunely, of forms which we would not anticipate. Yet the main
argument of Haeckel's book is the quiet assumption that anything found
to occur in ontogenetic development must also have occurred in
phylogenesis, while manifest difficulties are got rid of by assuming
atavisms and abnormalities.
A third characteristic of the method of the book is the use of certain
terms in peculiar senses, and as implying certain causes which are
taken for granted, though their efficacy and their mode of operation
are unknown. The chief of the terms so employed are "heredity" and
"adaptation." "Heredity" is usually understood as expressing the
power of permanent transmission of characters from parents to
offspring, and in this aspect it expresses the constancy of specific
forms; but, as used by Haeckel, it means the transmission by a parent
of any exceptional characters which the individual may have
accidentally assumed. "Adaptation" has usually been supposed to mean
the fitting of animals for their place in nature, however that came
about; as used by Haeckel, it imports the power of the individual
animal to adapt itself to changed conditions and to transmit these
changes to its offspring. Thus in this philosophy the rule is made the
exception and the exception the rule by a skilful use of familiar
terms in new senses; and heredity and adaptation are constantly
paraded as if they were two potent divinities employed in constantly
changing and improving the face of nature.
It is scarcely too much to say that the conclusions of the book are
reached almost solely by the application of the above-mentioned
peculiar modes of reasoning to the vast store of facts at command of
the author, and that the reader who would test these conclusions by
the ordinary methods of judgment must be constantly on his guard.
Still, it is not necessary to believe that Haeckel is an intentional
deceiver. Such fallacies are those which are especially fitted to
mislead enthusiastic specialists, to be identified by them with proved
results of science, and to be held in an intolerant and dogmatic
spirit.
Having thus noticed Haeckel's assumptions and his methods, we may next
shortly consider the manner in which he proceeds to work out the
phylogeny of man. Here he pursues a purely physiological method, only
occasionally and slightly referring to geological facts. He takes as a
first principle the law long ago formulated by Hunter, _Omne vivum ex
ovo_--a law which modern research has amply confirmed, showing that
every animal, however complex, can be traced back to an egg, which in
its simplest state is no more than a single cell, though this cell
requires to be fertilized by the addition of the contents of another
dissimilar cell, produced either in another organ of the same
individual or in a distinct individual. This process of fertilization
Haeckel seems to regard as unnecessary in the lowest forms of life;
but, though there are some simple animals in which it has not been
recognized, analogy would lead us to believe that in some form it is
necessary in all. Haekel's monistic view, however, requires that in
the lowest forms it should be absent and should have originated
spontaneously, though how does not seem to be very clear, as the
explanation given of it by him amounts to little more than the
statement that it must have occurred. Still, as a "dualistic" process
it is very significant with reference to the monistic theory.
Much space is, of course, devoted to the tracing of the special
development or ontogenesis of man, and to the illustration of the fact
that in the earlier stages of this development the human embryo is
scarcely distinguishable from that of lower animals. We may, indeed,
affirm that all animals start from cells which, in so far as we can
see, are similar to each other, yet which must include potentially the
various properties of the animals which spring from them. As we trace
them onward in their development, we see these differences manifesting
themselves. At first all pass, according to Haeckel, through a stage
which he calls the "gastrula," in which the whole body is represented
by a sort of sac, the cavity of which is the stomach and the walls of
which consist of two layers of cells. It should be stated, however,
that many eminent naturalists dissent from this view, and maintain
that even in the earliest stages material differences can be observed.
In this they are probably right, as even Haeckel has to admit some
degree of divergence from this all-embracing "gastræa" theory.
Admitting, however, that such early similarity exists within certain
limits, we find that, as the embryo advances, it speedily begins to
indicate whether it is to be a coral-animal, a snail, a worm, or a
fish. Consequently, the physiologist who wishes to trace the
resemblances leading to mammals and to man has to lop off one by one
the several branches which lead in other directions, and to follow
that which conducts by the most direct course to the type which he has
in view. In this way Haeckel can show that the embryo _Homo sapiens_
is in successive stages so like to the young of the fish, the reptile,
the bird, and the ordinary quadruped that he can produce for
comparison figures in which the cursory observer can detect scarcely
any difference.
All this has long been known, and has been regarded as a wonderful
evidence of the homology or unity of plan which pervades nature, and
as constituting man the archetype of the animal kingdom--the highest
realization of a plan previously sketched by the Creator in many ruder
and humbler forms. It also teaches that it is not so much in the mere
bodily organism that we are to look for the distinguishing characters
of humanity as in the higher rational and moral nature.
But Haeckel, like other evolutionists of the monistic and agnostic
schools, goes far beyond this. The ontogeny, on the evidence of
analogy, as already explained, is nothing less than a miniature
representation of the phylogeny. Man must in the long ages of
geological time have arisen from a monad, just as the individual man
has in his life-history arisen from an embryo-cell, and the several
stages through which the individual passes must be parallel to those
in the history of the race. True, the supposed monad must have been
wanting in all the conditions of origin, sexual fertilization,
parental influence, and surroundings. There is no perceptible relation
of cause and effect, any more than between the rotation of a
carriage-wheel and that of the earth on its axis. The analogy might
prompt to inquiries as to common laws and similarities of operation,
but it proves nothing as to causation.
In default of such proof, Haeckel favors us with another analogy,
derived from the science of language. All the Indo-European languages
are believed to be descended from a common ancestral tongue, and this
is analogous to the descent of all animals from one primitive species.
But unfortunately the languages in question are the expressions of the
voice and the thought of one and the same species. The individuals
using them are known historically to have descended by ordinary
generation from a common source, and the connecting-links of the
various dialects are unbroken. The analogy fails altogether in the
case of species succeeding each other in geological time, unless the
very thing to be proved is taken for granted in the outset.
The actual proof that a basis exists in nature for the doctrine of
evolution founded on these analogies, might be threefold. _First._
There might be changes of the nature of phylogenesis going on under
our own observation, and even a very few of these would be sufficient
to give some show of probability. Elaborate attempts have been made to
show that variations, as existing in the more variable of our
domesticated species, lead in the direction of such changes; but the
results have been unsatisfactory, and our author scarcely condescends
to notice this line of proof. He evidently regards the time over which
human history has extended as too short to admit of this kind of
demonstration. _Secondly._ There might be in the existing system of
nature such a close connection or continuous chain of species as might
at least strengthen the argument from analogy; and undoubtedly there
are many groups of closely allied species, or of races confounded with
true specific types, which it might not be unreasonable to suppose of
common origin. These are, however, scattered widely apart; and the
contrary fact of extensive gaps in the series is so frequent, that
Haeckel is constantly under the necessity of supposing that multitudes
of species, and even of larger groups, have perished just where it is
most important to his conclusion that they should have remained. This
is, of course, unfortunate for the theory; but then, as Haeckel often
remarks, "we must suppose" that the missing links once existed. But,
_thirdly_, these gaps which now unhappily exist may be filled up by
fossil animals; and if in the successive geological periods we could
trace the actual phylogeny of even a few groups of living creatures,
we might have the demonstration desired. But here again the gaps are
so frequent and so serious that Haeckel scarcely attempts to use this
argument further than by giving a short and somewhat imperfect summary
of the geological succession in the beginning of his second volume. In
this he attempts to give a continuous series of the ancestors of man
as developed in geological time; but, of twenty-one groups which he
arranges in order from the beginning of the Laurentian to the modern
period, at least ten are not known at all as fossils, and others do
not belong, so far as known, to the ages to which he assigns them.
This necessity of manufacturing facts does not speak well for the
testimony of geology to the supposed phylogeny of man.
In point of fact, it cannot be disguised that, though it is possible
to pick out some series of animal forms, like the horses and camels
referred to by some palæontologists, which simulate a genetic order,
the general testimony of palæontology is, on the whole, adverse to the
ordinary theories of evolution, whether applied to the vegetable or to
the animal kingdom. This the writer has elsewhere endeavored to show;
but he may refer here to the labors of Barrande, perhaps unrivalled in
extent and accuracy, which show that in the leading forms of life in
the older geological formations the succession is not such as to
correspond with any of the received theories of derivation.[2] Even
evolutionists, when sufficiently candid, admit their case not proven
by geological evidence. Gaudry, one of the best authorities on the
Tertiary mammalia, admits the impossibility of suggesting any possible
derivation for some of the leading groups, and Saporta, Mivart, and Le
Conte fall back on periods of rapid or paroxysmal evolution scarcely
differing from the idea of creation by law, or mediate creation, as it
has been termed.
Thus the utmost value which can be attached to Haeckel's argument from
analogy would be that it suggests a possibility that the processes
which we see carried on in the evolution of the individual may, in the
laws which regulate them, be connected in some way more or less close
with those creative processes which on the wider field of geological
time have been concerned in the production of the multitudinous forms
of animal life. That Haeckel's philosophy goes but a very little way
toward any understanding of such relations, and that our present
information, even within the more limited scope of biological science,
is too meagre to permit of safe generalization, will appear from the
consideration of a few facts taken here and there from the multitude
employed by him to illustrate the monistic theory.
When we are told that a moner or an embryo-cell is the early stage of
all animals alike, we naturally ask, Is it meant that all these cells
are really similar, or is it only that they appear similar to us, and
may actually be as profoundly unlike as the animals which they are
destined to produce? To make this question more plain, let us take the
case as formally stated: "From the weighty fact that the egg of the
human being, like the egg of all other animals, is a simple cell, it
may be quite certainly inferred that a one-celled parent-form once
existed, from which all the many-celled animals, man included,
developed."
Now, let us suppose that we have under our microscope a one-celled
animalcule quite as simple in structure as our supposed ancestor.
Along with this we may have on the same slide another cell, which is
the embryo of a worm, and a third, which is the embryo of a man. All
these, according to the hypothesis, are similar in appearance; so that
we can by no means guess which is destined to continue always an
animalcule, or which will become a worm or may develop into a poet or
a philosopher. Is it meant that the things are actually alike or only
apparently so? If they are really alike, then their destinies must
depend on external circumstances. Put either of them into a pond, and
it will remain a monad. Put either of them into the ovary of a complex
animal, and it will develop into the likeness of that animal. But such
similarity is altogether improbable, and it would destroy the argument
of the evolutionist. In this case he would be hopelessly shut up to
the conclusion that "hens were before eggs;" and Haeckel elsewhere
informs us that the exactly opposite view is necessarily that of the
monistic evolutionist. Thus, though it may often be convenient to
speak of these three kinds of cells as if they were perfectly similar,
the method of "disappearance" has immediately to be resorted to, and
they are shown to be, in fact, quite dissimilar. There is, indeed,
the best ground to suppose that the one-celled animals and the
embryo-cells referred to, have little in common except their general
form. We know that the most minute cell must include a sufficient
number of molecules of protoplasm to admit of great varieties of
possible arrangement, and that these may be connected with most varied
possibilities as to the action of forces. Further, the embryo-cell
which is produced by a particular kind of animal, and whose
development results in the reproduction of a similar animal, must
contain potentially the parts and structures which are evolved from
it; and fact shows that this may be affirmed of both the embryo and
the sperm-cells where there are two sexes. Therefore it is in the
highest degree probable that the eggs of a worm and those of man,
though possibly alike to our coarse methods of investigation, are as
dissimilar as the animals that result from them. If so, the "egg may
be before the hen;" but it is as difficult to imagine the spontaneous
production of the egg which is potentially the hen as of the hen
itself. Thus the similarity of the eggs and early embryos of animals
of different grades is apparent only; and this fact, which embodies a
great, and perhaps insoluble, mystery, invalidates the whole of
Haeckel's reasoning on the alleged resemblances of different kinds of
animals in their early stages.
A second difficulty arises from the fact that the simple embryo-cell
of any of the higher animals rapidly produces various kinds of
specialized cells different in structure and appearance and capable of
performing different functions, whereas in the lower forms of life
such cells may remain simple or may merely produce several similar
cells little or not at all differentiated. This objection, whenever it
occurs, Haeckel endeavors to turn by the assertion that a complex
animal is merely an aggregate of independent cells, each of which is a
sort of individual. He thus tries to break up the integrity of the
complex organism and to reduce it to a mere swarm of monads. He
compares the cells of an organism to the "individuals of a savage
community," who, at first separate and all alike in their habits and
occupations, at length organize themselves into a community and assume
different avocations. Single cells, he says, at first were alike, and
each performed the same simple offices of all the others. "At a later
period isolated cells gathered into communities; groups of simple
cells which had arisen from the continued division of a single cell
remained together, and now began gradually to perform different
offices of life."
But this is a mere vague analogy. It does not represent anything
actually occurring in nature, except in the case of an embryo produced
by some animal which already shows all the tissues which its embryo is
destined to reproduce. Thus it establishes no probability of the
evolution of complex tissues from simple cells, and leaves altogether
unexplained that wonderful process by which the embryo-cell not only
divides into many cells, but becomes developed into all the variety of
dissimilar tissues evolved from the homogeneous egg; but evolved from
it, as we naturally suppose, because of the fact that the egg
represents potentially all these tissues as existing previously in the
parent organism.
But if we are content to waive these objections or to accept the
solutions given of them by the "appearance-and-disappearance"
argument, we still find that the phylogeny, unlike the ontogenesis, is
full of wide gaps only to be passed _per saltum_ or to be accounted
for by the disappearance of a vast number of connecting-links. Of
course, it is easy to suppose that these intermediate forms have been
lost through time and accident, but why this has happened to some
rather than to others cannot be explained. In the phylogeny of man,
for example, what a vast hiatus yawns between the ascidian and the
lancelet, and another between the lancelet and the lamprey! It is true
that the missing links may have consisted of animals little likely to
be preserved as fossils; but why, if they ever existed, do not some of
them remain in the modern seas? Again, when we have so many species of
apes and so many races of men, why can we find no trace, recent or
fossil, of that "missing link" which we are told must have existed,
the "ape-like men," known to Haeckel as the "Alali," or speechless
men?
A further question which should receive consideration from the monist
school is that very serious one, Why, if all is "mechanical" in the
development and actions of living beings, should there be any progress
whatever? Ordinary people fail to understand why a world of mere dead
matter should not go on to all eternity obeying physical and chemical
laws without developing life; or why, if some low form of life were
introduced capable of reproducing simple one-celled organisms, it
should not go on doing so.
Further, even if some chance deviations should occur, we fail to
perceive why these should go on in a definite manner producing not
only the most complex machines, but many kinds of such machines--on
different plans, but each perfect in its way. Haeckel is never weary
of telling us that to monists organisms are mere machines. Even his
own mental work is merely the grinding of a cerebral machine. But he
seems not to perceive that to such a philosophy the homely argument
which Paley derived from the structure of a watch would be fatal: "The
question is whether machines (which monists consider all animals to
be, including themselves) infinitely more complicated than watches
could come into existence without design somewhere"[3]--that is, by
mere chance. Common sense is not likely to admit that this is
possible.
[Illustration: FIG. 2.
Impression of five fingers and five toes of an Amphibian of
the Lower Carboniferous Age, from the lowest Carboniferous
beds in Nova Scotia--an evidence of the fact that the number
five was already selected for the hands and feet of the
earliest known land vertebrates, and that the decimal system
of notation, with all that it involves to man, was determined
in the Palæozoic Age. The upper figure natural size, the lower
reduced.]
The difficulties above referred to relate to the introduction of life
and of new species on the monistic view. Others might be referred to
in connection with the production of new organs. An illustration is
afforded, among others, by the discussion of the introduction of the
five fingers and toes of man, which appear to descend to us
unchanged from the amphibians or batrachians of the Carboniferous
period. In this ancient age of the earth's geological history, feet
with five toes appear in numerous species of reptilians of various
grades (Fig. 2). They are preceded by no other vertebrates than
fishes, and these have numerous fin-rays instead of toes. There are no
properly transitional forms either fossil or recent. How were the
five-fingered limbs acquired in this abrupt way? Why were they five
rather than any other number? Why, when once introduced, have they
continued unchanged up to the present day? Haeckel's answer is a
curious example of his method: "The great significance of the five
digits depends on the fact that this number has been transmitted from
the Amphibia to all higher vertebrates. It would be impossible to
discover any reason why in the lowest Amphibia, as well as in reptiles
and in higher vertebrates up to man, there should always originally be
five digits on each of the anterior and posterior limbs, if we denied
that heredity from a common five-fingered parent-form is the efficient
cause of this phenomenon; heredity can alone account for it. In many
Amphibia certainly, as well as in many higher vertebrates, we find
less than five digits. But in all these cases it can be shown that
separate digits have retrograded, and have finally been completely
lost. The causes which affected the development of the five-fingered
foot of the higher vertebrates in this amphibian form from the
many-fingered foot (or properly fin), must certainly be found in the
adaptation to the totally altered functions which the limbs had to
discharge during the transition from an exclusively aquatic life to
one which was partially terrestrial. While the many-fingered fins of
the fish had previously served almost exclusively to propel the body
through the water, they had now also to afford support to the animal
when creeping on the land. This effected a modification both of the
skeleton and of the muscles of the limbs. The number of fin-rays was
gradually lessened, and was finally reduced to five. These five
remaining rays were, however, developed more vigorously. The soft
cartilaginous rays became hard bones. The rest of the skeleton also
became considerably more firm. The movements of the body became not
only more vigorous, but also more varied;" and the paragraph proceeds
to state other ameliorations of muscular and nervous system supposed
to be related to or caused by the improvement of the limbs.
It will be observed that in the above extract, under the formula "the
causes which affected the development of the five-fingered foot ...
must certainly be found," all that other men would regard as demanding
proof is quietly assumed, and the animal grows before our eyes from a
fish to a reptile as under the wand of a conjurer. Further, the
transmission of the five toes is attributed to heredity or unchanged
reproduction, but this, of course, gives no explanation of the
original formation of the structure, nor of the causes which prevented
heredity from applying to the fishes which became amphibians and
acquired five toes, or to the amphibians which faithfully transmitted
their five toes, but not their other characteristics.
It is perhaps scarcely profitable to follow further the criticism of
this extraordinary book. It may be necessary, however, to repeat that
it contains clear, and in the main accurate, sketches of the
embryology of a number of animals, only slightly colored by the
tendency to minimize differences. It may also be necessary to say that
in criticising Haeckel we take him on his own ground--that of a
monist--and have no special reference to those many phases which the
philosophy of evolution assumes in the minds of other naturalists,
many of whom accept it only partially or as a form of mediate creation
more or less reconcilable with theism. To these more moderate views no
reference has been made, though there can be no doubt that many of
them are quite as assailable as the position of Haeckel in point of
argument. It may also be observed that Haeckel's argument is almost
exclusively biological and confined to the animal kingdom, and to the
special line of descent attributed to man. The monistic hypothesis
becomes, as already stated, still less tenable when tested by the
facts of palæontology. Hence most of the palæontologists who favor
evolution appear to shrink from the extreme position of Haeckel.
Gaudry, one of the ablest of this school, in his recent work on the
development of the Mammalia, candidly admits the multitude of facts
for which derivation will not account, and perceives in the grand
succession of animals in time the evidence of a wise and far-reaching
creative plan, concluding with the words: "We may still leave out of
the question the processes by which the Author of the world has
produced the changes of which palæontology presents the picture." In
like manner, the Count de Saporta in his _World of Plants_ closes his
summary of the periods of vegetation with the words: "But if we ascend
from one phenomenon to another, beyond the sphere of contingent and
changeable appearance, we find ourselves arrested by a Being
unchangeable and supreme, the first expression and absolute cause of
all existence, in whom diversity unites with unity, an eternal
problem, insoluble to science, but ever present to the human
consciousness. Here we reach the true source of the idea of religion,
and there presents itself distinctly to the mind that conception to
which we apply instinctively the name of God."
Thus these evolutionists, like many others in this country and in
England, find a _modus vivendi_ between evolution and theism. They
have committed themselves to an interpretation of nature which may
prove fanciful and evanescent, and which certainly up to this time
remains an hypothesis, ingenious and captivating, but not fortified by
the evidence of facts. But in doing so they are not prepared to
accept the purely mechanical creed of the monist, or to separate
themselves from those ideas of morality, of religion, and of sonship
to God which have hitherto been the brightest gems in the crown of man
as the lord of this lower world. Whether they can maintain this
position against the monists, and whether they will be able in the end
to retain any practical form of religion along with the doctrine of
the derivation of man from the lower animals, remains to be seen.
Possibly before these questions come to a final issue the philosophy
of evolution may itself have been "modified" or have given place to
some new phase of thought.
One curious point in this connection, to which little attention has
been given by evolutionists, is that to which Herbert Spencer has
given the name of "direct equilibration," though he is sufficiently
wise not to invite too much attention to it. This is the balance of
parts and forces within the organism itself. The organism is a complex
machine; and if its parts have been put together by chance and are
drifting onward in the path of evolution, there must of necessity be a
continual struggle going on between the different organs and
functions, each tending to swallow up the others and each struggling
for its own existence. This resolution of the body of each animal into
a house divided against itself is at first sight so revolting to
common sense and right feeling that few like to contemplate it. Roux
and other recent writers, however, especially in Germany, have brought
it into prominence, and it is no doubt a necessary consequence of the
evolutionary idea, though altogether at variance with the theory of
intelligent design, which supposes the animal machine put together
with care and for a purpose, and properly adjusted in all its parts.
On the hypothesis of evolution, the animal thus ceases to be, in the
proper sense of the term, even a machine, and becomes a mere mass of
conflicting parts depending for any constancy they may have on a
chance balancing of hostile forces, without any compelling power to
bring them together at first, or any means to bind them to joint
action in the system. The more such a doctrine is considered, the more
difficult does it seem to believe in the possibility of its truth.
Evolution has already reduced the cosmos into chaos, the harmony of
the universe into discord; but it seems past belief to introduce this
into the microcosm itself, and to see nothing in its exquisite
adjustments except the momentary equilibrium of a well-balanced fight.
Geological history also adds to the absurdity of such a view by
showing the marvellous permanence of many forms of life which have
continued to perpetuate themselves through almost immeasurable ages
without material changes, thus proving unanswerably the perfect
adjustment of their parts.
Viewed rightly, this direct equilibration of the parts of the animal
seems to throw the greatest possible doubt on the capacity of any form
of evolution to produce new species. It is certain, from the facts
collected by Mr. Darwin himself in his work on animals under
domestication, that when man disturbs the balance of any organism by
changing in any way the relations of its parts, he introduces elements
of instability and weakness, which, despite the efforts of nature to
correct the evils resulting, speedily lead to degeneracy, infertility,
and extinction. Mr. T. Warren O'Neil of Philadelphia has recently
argued this point with much ability,[4] and has shown, on the
testimony of Darwin's facts, that unless "natural selection" is a
much more skilful breeder than man, and possesses some secrets not yet
discovered by us, the effects of this imaginary power would lead, not
to the production of new species, but merely to the extinction of
those already existing. In short, all the evidence goes to show
that--so beautifully balanced are the parts of the organism--any
excess or deficiency in any of them, when artificially or accidentally
introduced, brings in elements not only of instability, but of decay
and destruction. This subject is deserving of a more full treatment
than it can receive here, but enough has been said to show that in
this evolutionists have unwittingly furnished us with a new
confirmation of the theory of intelligent design.
In some places there are in Haeckel's book touches of a grim humor
which are not without interest, as showing the subjective side of the
monistic theory and illustrating the attitude of its professors to
things held sacred by other men. For example, the following is the
introduction to the chapter headed "From the Primitive Worm to the
Skulled Animal," and which has for its motto the lines of Goethe
beginning:
"Not like the gods am I! full well I know;
But like the worms which in the dust must go."
"Both in prose and poetry man is very often compared to a worm; 'a
miserable worm,' 'a poor worm,' are common and almost compassionate
phrases. If we cannot detect any deep phylogenetic reference in this
zoological metaphor, we might at least safely assert that it contains
an unconscious comparison with a low condition of animal development
which is interesting in its bearing on the pedigree of the human
race."
If Haeckel were well read in Scripture, he might have quoted here the
melancholy confession of the man of Uz: "I have said to the worm, Thou
art my mother and my sister." But, though Job, like the German
professor, could humbly say to the worm, "Thou art my mother," he
could still hold fast his integrity and believe in the fatherhood of
God.
The moral bearing of monism is further illustrated by the following
extract, which refers to a more advanced step of the evolution--that
from the ape to man--and which shows the honest pride of the worthy
professor in his humble parentage: "Just as most people prefer to
trace their pedigree from a decayed baron, or if possible from a
celebrated prince, rather than from an unknown humble peasant, so they
prefer seeing the progenitor of the human race in an Adam degraded by
the fall, rather than in an ape capable of higher development and
progress. It is a matter of taste, and such genealogical preferences
do not, therefore, admit of discussion. It is more to my individual
taste to be the more highly-developed descendant of an ape, who in the
struggle for existence had developed progressively from lower mammals
as they from still lower vertebrates, than the degraded descendant of
an Adam, Godlike but debased by the fall, who was formed from a clod
of earth, and of an Eve created from a rib of Adam. As regards the
celebrated 'rib,' I must here expressly add, as a supplement to the
history of the development of the skeleton, that the number of ribs is
the same in man and in woman.[5] In the latter as well as in the
former the ribs originate from the skin-fibrous layer, and are to be
regarded phylogenetically as lower or ventral vertebræ."[6]
There is no accounting for tastes, yet we may be pardoned for
retaining some preference for the first link of the old Jewish
genealogical table: "Which was the son of Adam, which was the son of
God." As to the "debasement" of the fall, it is to be feared that the
aboriginal ape would object to bearing the blame of existing human
iniquities as having arisen from any improvement in his nature and
habits; and it is scarcely fair to speak of Adam as "formed from a
_clod_ of earth," which is not precisely in accordance with the
record. As to the "rib," which seems so offensive to Haeckel, one
would have thought that he would, as an evolutionist, have had some
fellow-feeling in this with the writer of Genesis. The origin of sexes
is one of the acknowledged difficulties of the hypothesis, and, using
his method, we might surely "assume," or even "confidently assert,"
the possibility that, in some early stage of the development, the
unfinished vertebral arches of the "skin-fibrous layer" might have
produced a new individual by a process of budding or gemmation. Quite
as remarkable suppositions are contained in some parts of his own
volumes, without any special divine power for rendering them
practicable. Further, if only an individual man originated in the
first instance, and if he were not provided with a suitable spouse, he
might have intermarried with the unimproved anthropoids, and the
results of the evolution would have been lost. Such considerations
should have weighed with Haeckel in inducing him to speak more
respectfully of Adam's rib, especially in view of the fact that in
dealing with the hard question of human origin the author of Genesis
had not the benefit of the researches of Baer and Haeckel. He had, no
doubt, the advantage of a firm faith in the reality of that Creative
Will which the monistic prophets of the nineteenth century have
banished from their calculations. Were Haeckel not a monist, he might
also be reminded of that grand doctrine of the lordship and
superiority of man based on the fact that there was no "help meet for
him;" and the foundation of the most sacred bond of human society on
the saying of the first man: "This is now bone of my bones, and flesh
of my flesh." But monists probably attach little value to such ideas.
It may be proper to add here that in his references to Adam, Haeckel
betrays a weakness not unusual with his school, in putting a false
gloss on the old record of Genesis. The statement that man was formed
from the dust of the ground implies no more than the production of his
body from the common materials employed in the construction of other
animals; this also in contradistinction from the higher nature derived
from the inbreathing or inspiration of God. The precise nature of the
method by which man was made or created is not stated by the author of
Genesis. Further, it would have been as easy for Divine Power to
create a pair as an individual. If this was not done, and if after the
lesson of superiority taught by the inspection of lower animals, and
the lesson of language taught by naming them, the first man in his
"deep sleep" is conscious of the removal of a portion of his own
flesh, and then on awaking has the woman "brought" to him, all this is
to teach a lesson not to be otherwise learned. The Mosaic record is
thus perfectly consistent with itself and with its own doctrine of
creation by Almighty Power.
I have quoted the above passages as examples of the more jocose vein
of the Jena physiologist; but they constitute also a serious
revelation of the influence of his philosophy on his own mind and
heart, in lowering both to a cold, mechanical, and unsympathetic view
of man and nature. This is especially serious when we remember how
earnestly in a recent address he advocated the teaching of the methods
and results of this book, as those which, in the present state of
knowledge, should supersede the Bible in our schools. We may well say,
with his great opponent on that occasion, that if such doctrines
should be proved to be true, the teaching of them might become a
necessity, but one that would bring us face to face with the darkest
and most dangerous moral problem that has ever beset humanity; and
that so long as they remain unproved it is both unwise and criminal to
propagate them among the mass of men as conclusions which have been
demonstrated by science.
In conclusion, we may notice shortly a few of the consequences of the
monistic evolution as held by Haeckel and others. Doctrines are
perhaps not to be judged by the consequences--at least, by the
immediate consequences--of their acceptance. Yet if their logical
consequences are such as to introduce confusion into our higher ideas
and sentiments, we have reason to hesitate as to their adoption--if on
no other ground, because we ourselves are a part of nature and should
be in harmony with any true explanation of it.
We may affirm in this connection that agnostic evolution reduces all
our science to mere evanescent anthropomorphic fancies; so that, like
a parasite, it first supports itself on the strength and substance of
science, and then strangles it to death. Physical science is a product
of our thinking as to external things. If, therefore, the thinking
brain and the external nature which it studies are both of them the
fortuitous products of blind tendencies in a process of continuous
flux and vicissitude, our science can embody no elements of eternal
truth nor any conceptions as to the plans of a higher creative reason.
In that case it is absolutely worthless, and a pure waste of time and
energy, except in so far as it may yield any temporary material
advantages.
Further, the agnostic evolution thus leaves us as orphans in the midst
of a cold and insensate nature. We are no longer dwellers in our
Father's house, beautiful and fitted for us, but are thrown into the
midst of a hideous conflict of dead forces, in which we must finally
perish and be annihilated. In a struggle so hopeless it is a mere
mockery to tell us that in millions of years something better may
come out of it, for we know that this will be of no avail to us, and
we feel that it is impossible. Thus the agnostic philosophy, if it be
once accepted as true, seriously raises the question whether life is
worth living.
But if worth living, then it must be for the immediate and selfish
gratification of our desires and passions; and since we are deprived
of God and conscience, and right and wrong, and future reward or
punishment, and all men are alike in this position, there can be
nothing left for us but to rend and fight with our fellows for such
share of good as may fall to us in the deadly struggle, that we may
reach such happiness as may be possible for us in such an existence,
ere we drift into nonentity. Here, again, we are told that the
struggle will some time lead to the survival of the fittest, and that
the fittest may inaugurate a new and better reign of peace. But the
world has already lasted countless ages without arriving at this
result. It cannot concern me individually, any more than what happens
to-day concerns the extinct ichthyosaur or the megatherium. All that
is left for me is to "eat and drink, for to-morrow I die."
If any one thinks that this is an exaggerated picture of the effects
of agnostic evolution as applied to man, I may refer him to the study
of Herbert Spencer's recent work _The Data of Ethics_, which has
contributed very much to open the eyes of thoughtful men to the depth
of spiritual, moral, and even social and political, ruin into which we
shall drift under the guidance of this philosophy. In this work the
data of ethics are reduced to the one consideration of what is
"pleasurable" to ourselves and others, and it is admitted that our
ideas of conscience, duty, and even of social obligation, are merely
fictions of temporary use until the time shall come when what is
pleasurable to ourselves shall coincide with what is pleasurable to
others; and this is to come, not out of the love of God and the
influence of his Spirit, but out of the blind struggle of opposing
interests. It has been well said that this system of morals--if it can
be dignified with such a name--is inferior, logically and practically,
not only to the "supernatural ethics" which it boastfully professes to
replace, but to the ethics of Aristotle and Cicero, and that "it will
not supersede revelation, nor is it likely to displace the old data of
ethics, whether Greek, Roman, or English." Independently of its
antagonism to theism and Christianity, it is foredoomed by the common
sense and the right feeling of even imperfect human nature.