CHAPTER III

MR. WELLS AND THE FALL OF MAN

As we approach the problem of Man it behoves us, before dealing with Mr.

Wells’s views on that animal, to examine a little further his competence

as a teacher of Science to the multitude.

I have pointed out that where Mr. Wells has to deal with ascertained

facts he is not only an accurate but an excellent précis writer, and

that his summary of such facts as are contained in our older books of

reference is clear, vivid, and in good proportion.

But the judgment of evidence is very badly done, the reasoning weak and

yielding to imagination; while the theories supported and the positive

errors repeated are most of them years and years behind the times.

I will give examples.

In the course of his account of Evolution Mr. Wells repeats (on page 37)

with complete confidence, as though it were scientific fact, the old and

now worthless theory called “Recapitulation.” It was a theory invented

by Haeckel (about 1870) purporting to be based on the work done by Von

Baer more than 40 years earlier—though, as a fact, Haeckel

characteristically suppressed one of Baer’s four points.

The Theory of Recapitulation was as follows:—The embryo—in particular of

man—bears witness to transformism by showing as it develops one phase

after another of its ancestral past: as the current phrase went when Mr.

Wells and I were young, it “climbs up its family tree.” It was imagined

that the embryo represents as it grows the various stages, from the

original aquatic life onwards to general tetrapodal forms, then to more

immediate ancestors from which the present form of the animal came.

Vialleton of Montpellier, probably the greatest contemporary authority

in Europe on Embryology, has disproved the theory and left it wrecked.

He has knocked the last nail into the coffin of that facile and

superficial short-cut (and blind alley). Here again I must make myself

quite clear, for Mr. Wells’s tendency to confusion of mind (a defect

attaching, perhaps, to his deservedly famous gift of imagination) may

easily make him accuse me of opinions I do not hold.

I do not make this allusion to the great work of Vialleton (which I have

had by me since it came out and which I study with increasing

admiration) as a criticism of Evolution in general. Who could? I allude

to it because Mr. Wells’s ignorance of its existence is inexcusable in a

man proposing to deal with such subjects even in the most summary and

popular fashion. That Mr. Wells does, as a fact, know nothing of

Vialleton’s mass of instance and argument, and its modern effect, is

clear from a protest he issued against me just before the publication of

this book. He there said that perhaps some French student had believed

the embryo to repeat its ancestry “conscientiously,” and that Vialleton

“may have thought it well to discuss this idea in one of his books”!

I might as well write that Darwin “may have thought it well” to discuss

(and attempt to destroy) Design. Why, the whole of this work is one long

and victorious attack upon the idea which Mr. Wells took for granted! It

is not a casual refutation of some nonsense about the embryo exactly

reproducing every minute stage of its ancestral past; it is a

fundamental, detailed, complete refutation of the idea which Mr. Wells

repeats.

Out of any number of citations which might be taken from Vialleton’s

hundreds of pages I then gave, and here give again, one: and it is

sufficient. “Ontogenesis” (that is the development of the Embryo)

“always begins with a general form and _not_” (my italics) “with a form

recalling another simpler form passed through in an earlier phase of

development.”

So much for that. It is but one out of many examples of our Author’s

being behind the times. Here is another.

In describing the glacial epochs, he trots out with the most naïf

confidence (on pp. 20–22) the hopelessly dead astronomical theory which

did duty in the textbooks of his youth and mine—for I also have believed

these things. Relying on a popular volume which, at the time, had great

effect, he puts down the main cause of glaciation to the combination of

varying eccentricity in the earth’s orbit with varying inclination of

the axis, of which he gives a large diagram. Under the effect of the two

movements (which Leverrier calculated more than a lifetime ago) the

Northern and Southern Hemispheres would alternately suffer from cold and

enjoy greater warmth. When the Northern Hemisphere was getting colder

and colder, the Southern would be getting warmer and warmer, and vice

versa.

This was called “Croll’s astronomical theory of glaciation,” and was

made popular by a book of Sir Robert Ball’s in 1893.

[1893, as I have said, seems, from internal evidence, to be about the

date when Mr. Wells’s stock of information crystallized.]

Now Croll’s astronomical theory broke down quite early under criticism.

It was dead before the end of the nineteenth century. The eleventh

edition of the _Encyclopædia Britannica_ is not exactly recent. Its

well-worn covers testify to its age in all our libraries, and I see that

a thirteenth edition is due. But even the eleventh edition of the

_Encyclopædia Britannica_ could have informed Mr. Wells that Croll’s

theory had broken down. Would he like something quite recent? Professor

Coleman—Emeritus Professor of Geology at Toronto—has just issued a study

of glacial periods, and I find on page 274 the curt sentence, “Croll’s

theory at present receives little attention.” And why? Because fact,

that dreadful enemy to theorizing, has killed it. If it were true,

glaciation would have been alternate in north and south. As a fact, it

has been proved simultaneous—the South American clay deposits alone show

that.

This is not to say that astronomical factors have played no part in

glaciation. That they did not do so would be incredible. But it is to

say that Mr. Wells still takes for granted in this year of grace 1926,

and states as facts, theories which the average educated man knows to

have been exploded as long ago as the nineties of the last century.

Mr. Wells suffers, in this connection, from another fault besides that

of stating the old and exploded theories of his youth as facts. He also

affirms as fact what is doubtful. Thus he builds a whole series of

assertions (p. 154) on the—at first sight—apparently obvious, but, in

fact, much disputed idea that as the ice receded the sea-level rose. It

is clear that the melting of great quantities of ice would, other things

being equal, raise the sea-level. It is also presumable, on the

isostatic theory, that the earth rose when and where relieved of ice

pressure (the raised beaches seem proof of this). That—other things

being equal—would mean a _lowering_ of sea-level when the ice melted

(thus the highest-known raised beach of glacial times in America

indicates a _fall_ of the sea-level since the ice melted by nearly 700

feet). Which of the two factors predominated? Only observation of such

phenomena as raised beaches, fossils, submerged forests, etc., can

decide, and the matter is still debated. Boule in 1906 affirmed a high

sea under glacial conditions. The periods of high glaciation were,

according to him, the periods of high sea-level, and the interglacial

epochs the periods of low sea-level. Wright (in 1914) inclines to the

opposite. The Scandinavian observers noted in one locality a rise of

sea-level at the first receding of the ice, then a lowering of it. The

latest opinion is mainly in favour of a rise in sea-level since the last

Ice-age. Coleman, the last authority, tentatively suggests a rise.

But to affirm a rise as proved is bad science. In these and many other

points Mr. Wells is evidently a man confusing theory with fact.

However, the few things really known by him about Pre-history are very

well put. The narrative is straightforward and a fair summary. It is

also to Mr. Wells’s credit that, unlike his fellow disseminators of

popular “science,” he frequently uses in this section, as elsewhere,

those qualifying words which distinguish fact from probabilities or

doubtful possibilities. He has “may,” “probably,” and “it would seem,”

where many another of his sort would have written “did,” “was,”

“certainly.” But what might here have been of excellent effect in

ridding uninstructed people of their dogmatism is more than neutralized

by too much positiveness in diagrams and riotous make-believe in

pictures.

For instance, on pages 35 and 36, regarding a table of Geological

Epochs, he writes: “These divisions _probably_ mark off too precisely,”

etc. But the accompanying diagram gives a timetable like Bradshaw, with

exactly 50,000 years for the last glacial epoch, 550,000 for those

intriguing anomalies the Javanese skull and thigh-bone, and 100,000 for

the vastly debated Piltdown fragments.

He does not, by the way, remark that the original guess at the cranial

capacity of the Piltdown man was too small, certainly by 30 per cent,

and possibly by 50 per cent. He does not tell his readers the remarkably

high angle of the forehead, nor the really disturbing fact that there

appear to have been no strong orbital ridges. And why are his readers

not given all this? Because—like so many facts in Pre-history—they

interfere with the simple “progress” idea and would make the reader

understand how very little we do know about early man and his ancestry,

and what an intolerable amount of theory there is to a halfpennyworth of

fact. For the Piltdown man, on all the orthodox hypotheses, has got to

be enormously older than Neanderthal man—and yet has a much more modern

brain-box.

Meanwhile, Mr. Wells’s artist constructs out of these little pieces of

bone a human being wholly imaginary in all its functions.

This person appears on page 43 in a detailed picture as “Eoanthropos.”

He is having a good time hunting, and looking uncommonly like an

acquaintance of my own; but he is entirely made up out of the artist’s

head. Again, we have the coloured picture of a dance of American Red

Indians round a fire solemnly presented as a “reconstruction of

Palæolithic society.”

I know very well the excuse that is offered for such things. The public

for which such books are written can digest a definite timetable, and,

better still, a picture, more easily than carefully thought out pros and

cons; _something_ must be put simply before their eyes, and one can’t

put doubt pictorially. Nevertheless, the effect produced and intended to

be produced is utterly false and misleading. The Piltdown fragments

would fit into a soup plate. No one knows and no one ever will know

whether the ape-jaw belongs to the scraps of human, and rather high

human, skull; on the one hand you have the very high authority of Keith,

on the other the main weight of continental opinion. No one can

confidently tell the exact posture and shape the total skull may have

had. Of the creature as a whole, apart from these insufficient fragments

of skull and that almost impossible jaw, we know absolutely nothing. To

conceal all this and to present a finished picture of him as a fully

known being is like writing a full biography on the evidence of a torn

quarter of visiting-card.

But though this lack of scientific habit in Mr. Wells is woeful enough

and very misleading, a defect of infinitely greater importance is his

incapacity for dealing with the fundamental questions of our nature and

destiny which are alone of real moment.

He seems to be aware of some clash between the materialist assumptions

of his narrow world and another much more majestic philosophy, much more

comprehensive; but he does not know what that opposing philosophy is. It

is evident throughout all his work that he has not even consulted an

elementary treatise on Catholic philosophy. Sometimes he seems to think

that Catholicism is a jumble of irrational tenets like those of the old

Bible Christians, for whose descendants he is writing and whom alone he

really understands. There are other times when he brings in the name of

the Catholic Church in a fashion which betrays his hatred of it, but

clearly in ignorance of what the doctrines and nature of the Catholic

Church may be.

He is like a man who, hearing a piece of Mozart, complains angrily of

the noise it makes, but has never heard of the theory and emotion of

music.

He suffers, therefore, as do much the greater part of his readers, from

two forms of ignorance, very fatal to a proper handling of our chief

human problems.

First, he is ignorant of the fact that he and they are working not on

common sense accepted by all men, but on a highly particular

philosophical theory (called once the Epicurean, but to-day the

Materialist, Theory) which may be accepted or denied, but which can no

more be taken for granted as universally admitted than can the Catholic

Faith itself. He thinks he is only dealing with ascertained fact,

whereas he is really acting on a religion; and as that religion is

false, it compels him to force facts to fit it. This is the very mark of

the provincial mind. It mistakes its local superstition for the very

nature of things. It is from this inability to define their own first

principles, from this conception that they are dealing with ascertained

physical truth alone, that people of this kind are at once debarred from

understanding their superiors and from reasoning clearly upon their own

postulates.

Secondly, he is ignorant of the Catholic philosophy which he

instinctively opposes. He does not know what it is that he is combating,

nor what a crushing advantage of scope and examination it has over the

insufficient and parochial experience lying behind his own work. He

approaches the Catholic Church as a man who has only done a little

suburban gardening might approach a fifty-acre field—with a spade.

All this comes out most clearly at the very opening of his discussion of

human origins on pages 37 and 38. He there exposes in one paragraph all

that ignorance to which I allude. He says with rather ponderous sarcasm

that the Catholic Church is no more committed to a denial of the now

widely accepted view of man’s origin “than it is to a doctrine of a flat

earth, or of a stationary earth round which the sun revolves”; but adds

that though the Church is apparently not committed to any particular

view in such matters (he has grasped that much), yet “many believers

dissent from the scientific opinion _because they feel it is more seemly

to suppose that man has fallen rather than risen_” (my italics).

In that one sentence on Original Sin you have the whole of the writer’s

ignorance upon the matter (and upon the very terms used in its

discussion) exposed. It is as though some foreigner were to say of

English constitutional practice: “The English legal system is not

committed to the denial of historical evidence on the vices of James the

First, but many individual lawyers believe that the King can do no

wrong—because they think it more seemly.”

Why did he not look up the point in any book of reference? It is

astonishing to me that, with his active mind and interest in his

contemporaries, and his reliance upon books of reference, he has not

done so.

The Catholic doctrine of Original Sin has nothing to do with the stages

of man’s material culture. The fact that man now in Europe uses iron in

places where he once used stone for his implements, has no possible

connection with the doctrine of Original Sin. The traces of beings not

men but, as are apes, man-like, exceptionally discovered, and belonging

presumably to a remote past, can no more affect the Catholic doctrine of

Original Sin than Pasteur’s discovery of fermentation being due to a

micro-organism affects the truth that men can and do get drunk.

The Catholic doctrine of Original Sin is this. That man, our known human

nature as true men, was created by God to be supernatural, that is,

enjoying beatitude; but fell, through the rebellion of his will, into a

natural state. This, and this alone, says the Catholic Faith, explains

man’s dual destiny, his sense of exile, the lack of correspondence

between his ideal and his practice. It is not “many individuals” in the

Catholic Church who affirm this great and luminous doctrine because it

is “more seemly.” It is _all_ Catholics who affirm it, and they do so

because, whether pleasant or unpleasant, it is true.

We affirm the Fall: _First_ on the authority of the Catholic Church

itself, which we have discovered from experience to be the only teaching

body whose voice and nature correspond with reality; answering justly

the queries and fulfilling the needs and ends of man. _Secondly_,

because this truth, like all other truths which we receive from that

same Authority, we discover to be but one in a consistent scheme of many

co-ordinated doctrines, which scheme alone explains the world, and is

consonant with the nature of the individual and with the nature of

society: with the nature of man himself as he discovers it to be when he

examines the recesses of his own being and with the nature of man in

corporate action. Nor has the firm hold which the high Catholic

intelligence maintains upon this essential and reasonable dogma of the

Fall any conceivable link with the denial or the acceptation of some

piece of physical evidence. It does not depend upon the existence of the

Garden of Eden somewhere between Mosul and Baghdad, nor upon the date

4004 B.C.

The truth is that Mr. Wells, in some confused way, regards the Catholic

Church as a sect; an extreme right wing of the various Protestant sects,

with which he is fully acquainted, from which he himself derives, and

whose ethics and general attitude towards life are part of his being.

For he goes on to tell us “that no considerable Christian body _now_ (my

italics) insists upon the exact and literal acceptance of the Bible

narrative.” He does not know—so ignorant is he of history—that this

attitude towards the Bible came very late—in the seventeenth century—and

was during its brief career highly local. He does not know that this

conception of the Old Testament as an exact text book of history and

science, not a word of which must be taken as allegory or

generalization, was mainly confined to England and her colonies. The

Catholic Church never held it or could of its nature hold it.

I wonder what effect it would have upon him to read a few passages from,

say, Origen, on the allegorical interpretation of Genesis, or from St.

Augustine? He need not do more than that. He need not waste energy in a

long examination of the Christian past. It would be quite enough for him

to consult a couple of passages, or, indeed, for any competent historian

to inform him that the only body of people who ever dreamt of taking

Genesis as a literal and sufficient guide to all the details of history

and physical science were the members of a small and local Puritan sect

(now rapidly disappearing) of which he is himself a product and which

held this amazing view of the Jacobean translation of the Hebrew

scripture into archaic English. These people loom so large in Mr.

Wells’s personal experience as to obscure all else; but I can assure him

that they count for next to nothing in the general culture of Europe.

So much for the first of Mr. Wells’s ventures into Theology, where it

regards the relation of God to man. He and his like often profess to

regard such things as of no importance. They are the most important

things in the world. Indeed, they are the only important things; and the

proof of their importance is to be found in the fact that the

materialists can never leave them alone.

The materialists are always loudly protesting that they “do not meddle

with Theology,” that they “have nothing to do with Theology.” They deal

with nothing else. Their whole object is Theological—though they do not

know it. Mr. Wells himself protests that he is not concerned with

Theology in his _Outline_. It is his one preoccupation—though he may not

realize it. The only criticism that really moves him is theological

criticism. The only opponent he seriously challenges is a theological

opponent; and the moment he attempts to _reason_ upon his subject,

Theology at once and inevitably appears.

I have neither the space nor the inclination to deal with minor

blemishes in this part of the work.

I do not even insist on Mr. Wells’s failure to perceive (though he

honestly quotes the facts) the implications of those perpetually

recurring anomalies in our few shreds of evidence—e.g. more human teeth

with less human craniums and vice versa. For though he misses the lesson

of these unceasing breakdowns of each new “scientific” dogma upon the

origin of man’s body (which lesson is, that Hypothesis should never be

taught as Science), he shirks none of the things he knows, and, when he

_is_ abreast of modern knowledge, he states it clearly and well. For

instance, he is acquainted with the exploding of the last dogma but two

(still popular with most of his readers, I fear), the arboreal ancestry

of Man. He knows it has broken down, and he admits it quite freely. Such

a confession is greatly to his credit.

It is ascertained fact that many human and some very few doubtfully

human remains of various types have been found under conditions which

suggest high antiquity. It is ascertained fact that presumably older

fragments are those of animals resembling men, in some cases, perhaps,

even more closely than any known monkey of to-day—though the resemblance

of monkeys to men has been a commonplace throughout History. Nor is it

any surprise to learn, as we recently have done (though Mr. Wells makes

no allusion to them), that in sundry other tests less striking (the make

up of blood, for instance) the animals most like us in structure and

gesture have common qualities with us. It is only what was to have been

expected.

But none of these things—though of curious interest—is on the same plane

as the theological discussions upon which Mr. Wells embarks and makes

shipwreck. That is why I have concentrated here upon the nature and

doctrine of the Fall.

If you go wrong on that, your whole philosophy of politics and of

individual human life will be wrong in its practical applications, and

you prepare the ruin, certainly of society and perhaps of your own soul.

A companion to Mr. Wells's "Outline of history" · 第 3 / 16 章