in the members of the same class is intelligible, if we admit their
descent from a common progenitor, together with their subsequent
adaptation to diversified conditions. On any other view the similarity
of pattern between the hand of a man or monkey, the foot of a horse,
the flipper of a seal, the wing of a bat, etc., is utterly
inexplicable. It is no scientific explanation to assert that they have
all been formed on the same ideal plan.” These words, which occur at
the end of the chapter we are examining, show how little Mr. Darwin
understands the duty of his position as author of a new theory. To say
that an explanation is not _scientific_ is a very poor excuse for
setting it aside. Science, if not perverted, is an excellent thing, but
it does not profess to give an explanation of every subject we may
think of. Its range is co-extensive with the material world, but only
with respect to matter and its modifications as known by observation
and experiment. This means that there are numberless things about which
science is altogether incompetent to speak, because such things do not
fall under observation and experiment. To pretend, therefore, that an
explanation which is not scientific has no claim to be heeded by a man
of science, is like pretending that a man of science, as such, must
remain in blissful ignorance of everything which transcends experiment
and observation. Will Mr. Darwin reject historical explanations of
historical events, philosophical explanations of philosophical
conclusions, mathematical explanations of mathematical questions? The
origin of things is not a scientific but a philosophic problem. Science
cannot speak of creation, of which it can have no experimental
knowledge; it gives it up to the philosopher and the theologian, who
alone know the grounds on which it must be demonstrated. The question,
then, whether mammals have all been formed on the same _ideal_ plan, is
not scientific, and therefore it needs no scientific explanation. The
plea that the explanation is not scientific might be held valid, if Mr.
Darwin had humbly acknowledged his inability to rise above matter, and
his incompetency to give a judgment in philosophic matters; but his
disregard of the explanation shows that, when he calls it _not
scientific_, he desires his reader to believe that it is
_anti-scientific_ or irreconcilable with science; and this is as absurd
as if he pretended that reason and science destroy one another.
On the other hand, what shall we say of the pretended “scientific”
explanation offered by Mr. Darwin? “The homological construction of the
whole frame in the members of the same class is intelligible, if we
admit their descent from a common progenitor.” Is this appeal to a
common progenitor a scientific explanation of the fact in question? If
a common progenitor accounts scientifically for the fact, why should
not a common Creator account scientifically for it? Science—that is,
Mr. Darwin’s science—does not know a common Creator; it knows even less
of a common progenitor; and yet it sets up the latter to exclude the
former, and boasts that its gratuitous and degrading hypothesis is a
“scientific” explanation! Yet all true scientists aver that no instance
has ever been found of a transition from one species to another;
philosophers go even further, and show that such a transition is
against nature. Hence Mr. Darwin’s hypothesis, far from being
scientific, contradicts science and philosophy, observation and
experiment, reason and fact. The descent from a common progenitor, even
if it made “intelligible” the similarity of different mammals, would
still be unscientific. The ancients accounted for the movement of the
heavenly bodies by putting them under the control of intellectual
agents. This hypothesis made the astronomical phenomena intelligible.
The fall of heavy bodies was accounted for by assuming that all such
bodies had a natural intrinsic tendency to a central point. This
hypothesis, too, made the fall of bodies intelligible. Even in modern
physics a number of hypotheses have been proposed regarding light,
magnetism, electricity, chemical changes, etc., to make phenomena
intelligible. But hypotheses, however satisfactory at first, are soon
discarded when a deeper study of the facts reveals new features and new
relations for which such hypotheses cannot account. This is why the
hypothesis of the descent of all mammals from a common progenitor, even
if it seems to make their homological construction intelligible in a
manner, must be rejected. For in every species of mammals we find
features for which the hypothesis cannot account, and relations of
genetic opposition by which the hypothesis is reduced to nothing.
Mr. Darwin says that, “on any other view, the similarity of pattern
between the hand of a man or monkey, the foot of a horse, the flipper
of a seal, the wing of a bat, etc., is utterly inexplicable.” We do not
see any great similarity between the hand of a man and the foot of a
horse or the flipper of a seal, etc. We would rather say, with Mr.
Darwin’s permission, that we see in all such organs a great
dissimilarity. Each of them has a special adaptation to a special end,
and each of them is constructed on a different specific pattern. Their
similarity is therefore generic, not specific; and, accordingly, each
species must have its own distinct progenitors. We might make other
remarks, but we are afraid that we have already taxed the patience of
the reader to a greater extent than the case requires; and therefore we
will now pass to the second argument of the author.
This second argument is drawn from the consideration of the embryonic
development. “Man,” says Mr. Darwin, “is developed from an ovule about
the 125th of an inch in diameter, which differs in no respect from the
ovules of other animals.” This is a very reckless assertion. For how
does Mr. Darwin happen to know that the human ovule “differs in no
respect” from the ovules of other animals? When a man of science lays
down an assertion as the groundwork of his doctrine, he must be able to
show that the assertion is true. Hence we are entitled to ask on what
foundation our great scientist can maintain his proposition. Will he
appeal to the microscope? Probably he will, but to no purpose; for he
has just declared, as we have seen, that the best microscope does not
reveal everything with sufficient distinction. On the other hand, if he
resorts to the mode of reasoning which he has just employed while
speaking of diseases—that is, if he argues from the effects to the
causes—he cannot but defeat himself; for, as similarity of diseases
was, in his judgment, a proof of similar organic structure, so now the
dissimilarity of the final development of two ovules will be a proof
that the two ovules are really dissimilar. One ovule constantly
develops into a monkey, another constantly develops into a dog, and a
third constantly develops into a man. Is it conceivable that the three
ovules are identically the same, so as to “differ in no respect”? We do
not know what Mr. Darwin will reply. At any rate he cannot reply on
scientific grounds; for science neither knows the intimate constitution
of the ovules, nor is it likely ever to know it, as the primordial
organic molecules baffle the best microscopic investigations.
“The embryo itself,” he adds, “at a very early period can
hardly be distinguished from that of other members of the
vertebrate kingdom.... At a somewhat later period, when the
extremities are developed, ‘the feet of lizards and mammals,’
as the illustrious Von Baer remarks, ‘the wings and feet of
birds, no less than the hands and feet of man, all arise from
the same fundamental form.’ It is, says Prof. Huxley, ‘quite in
the later stages of development that the young human being
presents marked differences from the young ape.’”
If these assertions and quotations are intended as a proof that the
human ovule “differs in no respect” from the ovules of lower animals,
we must confess that our advanced scientific thinkers are endowed with
a wonderful power of blinding themselves. We have two ovules: the one
develops into hands and feet; the other develops into wings and
feathers; and yet we are told that they are both “_the same_
fundamental form”! What is the fundamental form? Who has seen it? We
are sure that neither Prof. Huxley nor the illustrious Von Baer has had
the privilege of inspecting and determining the proper form of the
mysterious organism known under the name of ovule. Much less have they,
or has Mr. Darwin, discerned what is fundamental and what is not in its
constitution. They are, therefore, not more competent to judge of the
fundamental sameness of two ovules than is the blind to judge of
colors; and their view, as founded on nothing but presumption and
ignorance, must be considered altogether unscientific.
The same view is also, as we have already shown, eminently
unphilosophic. If two ovules are essentially the same and “differ in no
respect” from one another, what is it that causes them invariably to
develop into different specific organisms? Does a constant difference
in the effects countenance the idea that they proceed from identical
causes? It is evident that a theory which resorts to such absurdities
for its support has no claim to be accepted, or even tolerated, by
lovers of reason and truth. The very boldness of its affirmations, its
air of dogmatism, its allegation of partisan authorities, and its
contempt of fundamental principles prove it to be nothing but a
flippant attempt at imposition.
Although Mr. Darwin has insisted so strongly on the similarity between
our bodily structure and that of the lower animals, and although he has
endeavored to convince us that the human ovule differs in no respect
from the ovules of other animals, yet he is compelled by abundant
evidence to admit that there is something in man which does not exist
in the lower animals, and something in the lower animals which does not
exist in man. How does he account for these organic differences? Men of
science, only twenty years ago, would have explained the fact by the
old philosophical and scientific axiom, _Omne animal generat simile
sibi_, which means that each species of animals has progenitors of the
same species; whence they would have inferred by legitimate deduction
that animals of different species owe their specific differences to
their having issued from progenitors of different species. This
explanation was universally received, as it was supported by an
induction based on centuries of observation, without a single example
to the contrary. It was, therefore, a truly scientific explanation. But
twenty years are passed, and with them (if we believe Mr. Darwin) the
axioms, the logic, and the experimental knowledge of all centuries have
disappeared from the world of science, to make room for higher and
deeper conceptions. It was not an easy task, that of giving the lie to
a uniform and perpetual experience; but to Mr. Darwin nothing is
difficult. He needs only a word. With one word, “Rudiments,” he is
confident that he will transform the objections of the old science into
arguments in his favor, just as King Midas by the touch of his hand
transmuted everything into shining gold.
The world has hitherto believed that man has only two hands, whereas
the monkey has four. But we must not say this in Mr. Darwin’s face. If
we did, he would inform us that we are strangely mistaken. Man, he
pretends, belongs to the order of quadrumana; hence he has four hands
no less than the monkey, though two of them are used as feet, which may
be considered as rudimentary or undeveloped hands. If we were to remark
in his presence that monkeys have a tail, whilst man can boast of no
such elegant appendage, he would immediately confound our ignorance by
informing us that we all possess a rudimentary tail, which might be
made to develop and grow by mere local irritation.
In this way he explains all the organic differences which separate one
species from another. Every difference is made to depend either on the
development in man of an organ which is undeveloped and rudimentary in
lower animals, or on the development in lower animals of some organ
which is rudimentary and undeveloped in man. To explain this theory he
reasons as follows:
“The chief agents in causing organs to become rudimentary seem
to have been disuse at that period of life when the organ is
chiefly used (and this is generally during maturity), and also
inheritance at a corresponding period of life. The term
‘disuse’ does not relate merely to the lessened action of
muscles, but includes a diminished flow of blood to a part or
organ from being subjected to fewer alterations of pressure, or
from becoming in any way less habitually active. Rudiments,
however, may occur in one sex of those parts which are normally
present in the other sex; and such rudiments, as we shall
hereafter see, have often originated in a way distinct from
those here referred to. In some cases organs have been reduced
by means of natural selection, from having become injurious to
the species under changed habits of life. The process of
reduction is probably often aided through the two principles of
compensation and economy of growth; but the later stages of
reduction, after disuse has done all that can fairly be
attributed to it, and when the saving to be effected by the
economy of growth would be very small, are difficult to
understand. The final and complete suppression of a part
already useless and much reduced in size, in which case neither
compensation nor economy can come into play, is perhaps
intelligible by the aid of the hypothesis of pangenesis.”
On this passage, which forms the main foundation of the Darwinian
theory of rudiments, much might be said; but we must limit ourselves to
the following obvious remark. Science and philosophy reason on
ascertained facts, but do not invent them; whereas Mr. Darwin in this
very passage, as in many others, not only invents with poetic liberty
all the facts which he needs to build up his theory, but also violates
the laws of reasoning by drawing from his imaginary facts such
conclusions as even real facts would not warrant. Philosophy would
certainly not allow him to assume without proof that “organs _become_
rudimentary”; for this is not an ascertained fact. Nor would philosophy
permit the gratuitous introduction of rudiments derived “from the
corresponding organs of other more developed animals”; for there is no
evidence that such has ever been the case. Nor would philosophy
sanction “the final and complete suppression of a part already
useless”; for on the one hand we have no means of knowing whether a
part be really useless, and on the other no total suppression of
organic parts has ever been known to occur (except in monsters) within
the range of any given species. Nor would philosophy permit an appeal
to the hypothesis of pangenesis or to the principle of compensation to
evade the difficulties of which the new theory cannot give a solution;
for the hypothesis of pangenesis is itself in need of proof, and the
principle of compensation involves, in our case, a begging of the
question, inasmuch as it assumes the mutability of species—the very
thing which the theory is intended to demonstrate.
But, says Mr. Darwin, perhaps the hypothesis of pangenesis would make
“intelligible” the suppression of a useless part. Let it be so, though
we hold the contrary to be true; what then? Is all hypothesis to be
accepted which would make a thing “intelligible”? The succession of
days and nights was intelligible in the Ptolemaic hypothesis; the loss
of a battle becomes intelligible by the hypothesis of treason; the
death of an old woman is intelligible by the hypothesis of starvation;
but no man of sense would mistake the hypothesis for a fact. The truth
is that Mr. Darwin, before attempting the explanation of what he calls
“the final and complete suppression of a part,” was bound to prove that
the absence of such a part was a _real suppression_ of the pre-existing
part. This he has not done; in fact, he had no means of doing it. Hence
all his reasonings on this subject are paralogistic, and his theory of
rudiments is a rope of sand.
The preceding remarks are fully applicable to the other examples of
rudiments given by the author in the fourteen remaining pages of the
chapter. Thus, “rudiments of various muscles have been observed in many
parts of the human body.” We flatly deny the assertion. “Not a few
muscles which are regularly present in some of the lower animals can
occasionally be detected in man in a greatly-reduced condition.” We
answer that such muscles are not at all in a _reduced_ condition, but
in the condition originally required by the nature of the individual.
“Remnants of the _panniculus carnosus_ in an efficient state are found
in various parts of our bodies; for instance, the muscle on the
forehead by which the eyebrows are raised.” On what ground can this
muscle be called a _remnant_? “The muscles which serve to move the
external ear are in a rudimentary condition in man.... The whole
external shell (of the ear) may be considered a rudiment, together with
the various folds and prominences which in the lower animals strengthen
and support the ear when erect.” Where is the proof of such rudimentary
condition? “The nictitating membrane is especially well developed in
birds, ... but in man it exists as a mere rudiment, called the
semilunar fold.” How is it proved that the semilunar fold is a mere
rudiment, and not a special organism, purposely contrived by the hand
of the Creator at the first production of man?
Mr. Darwin goes on making any number of assertions of the same kind,
not one of which is or can be substantiated, and yet at the end of the
chapter closes his argumentation in the following triumphant words:
“Consequently, we ought frankly to admit their community of
descent [of man and other vertebrate animals]. To take any
other view is to admit that our own structure, and that of all
the animals around us, is a mere snare laid to entrap our
judgment. This conclusion is greatly strengthened, if we look
to the members of the whole animal series, and consider the
evidence derived from their affinities or classification, their
geographical distribution and geological succession. It is only
our natural prejudice, and that arrogance which made our
forefathers declare that they were descended from demi-gods,
which leads us to demur to this conclusion. But the time will
before long come when it will be thought wonderful that
naturalists who were well acquainted with the comparative
structure and development of man and other mammals should have
believed that each was the work of a separate act of creation.”
This conclusion, though well known, and already famous throughout the
scientific world, is here given in the proper words of the great
naturalist, that the reader may see what unbounded confidence a man of
science can place in himself and in his speculations. All the
scientific world, excepting a few sectarian unbelievers, is against
him; he knows it, and he is not dismayed. If you listen to him, his
opponents are “arrogant”; they demur to his conclusion only because
they pretend to be “the descendants of demi-gods.” He alone is right,
he alone understands science. Buffon, Cuvier, Quatrefages, Agassiz,
Elam, Frédault, and a host of other naturalists are evidently wrong. In
fact, all philosophers are wrong; Mr. Darwin alone knows how to
interpret scientific results; and he is so sure of this that he
ventures to prophesy his approaching triumph over those benighted
naturalists who, though “well acquainted with the comparative structure
and development of man and other mammals,” are nevertheless so foolish
as to believe that each species is the work of a separate act of
creation. Such is his modesty!
Perhaps we, too, may be allowed to venture a little prophecy. Mr.
Darwin is not young, and before many years, we are sorry to say, death
will snatch him from us; his scientific friends in England and in
Germany will shed a cold tear on his dead “mammalian structure,” while
his spiritual and immortal soul will be summoned before the God he has
insulted in the noblest of his creatures, to account for the abuse of
his talents, and to receive the sentence due to those who know and
disregard truth. Then the _Descent of Man_ will soon be a thing of the
past; and those who now sing its praises in all tunes, and feign such
an enthusiastic conviction of its coming triumph, will become the
laughing stock of cultivated society, unless they put a timely end to
their “scientific” jugglery. This is the fate which the common sense of
mankind keeps in store for the Darwinian theory.
Mr. Darwin, in formulating his conclusion, sums up the whole discussion
in a single sentence: “To take any other view is to admit that our own
structure, and that of all the animals around us, is a mere snare laid
to entrap our judgment.” No doubt a “snare” is laid; not, however, by
the Author of nature, but by the author of the _Descent of Man_. The
homologousness of animal structures does not prove a common genetic
descent: it only proves, as we have shown, that all such structures are
the work of the same Maker; hence the arbitrary substitution of a
common progenitor for a common Creator is “a mere snare” laid by Mr.
Darwin to entrap the judgment of the ignorant. We say _of the
ignorant_; for he who knows anything about philosophy will simply
wonder at the audacity of a writer who derives reason from unreason,
and intellect from organism; and he who knows anything about divine
revelation will rebuke him for his disregard of the Mosaic history,
than which no document has greater antiquity or higher authority;
whereas he who knows anything of zoölogy will be scandalized at the
impudence of a man who dares to contradict in the name of science what
he knows to be an unquestionable fact and a fundamental principle of
science—viz., the unchangeableness of species.
To “strengthen” his worthless conclusion Mr. Darwin bids us look to
“the members of the whole animal series” and consider “the evidence
derived from their affinities or classification, their geographical
distribution and geological succession.” But it must be evident to
every intelligent reader that the considerations here suggested by Mr.
Darwin are not calculated to “strengthen” his position. Between the
members of the animal series there are not only affinities, but also
specific differences and incompatibilities, which a man of science
ought not to ignore, were they ever so embarrassing to his inventive
genius. And as to the “geological succession” of animal forms, need we
remind Mr. Darwin that the geological remains and their succession
afford the most peremptory refutation of his theory? He himself
acknowledges that no transitional forms from one species to another
have been dug up from the bowels of the earth; whereas his theory
requires a succession of animal remains of all transitional forms and
in all stages of development. It would have been wiser for him to have
kept back all mention of geology; but, alas! those who lay snares for
others sometimes succeed also in entrapping themselves.