I note, incidentally, that Mr. Gladstone appears to consider that the

_differentia_ between a lecture and a sermon is, that the former, so far as

it deals with matters of fact, may be taken seriously, as meaning exactly

what it says, while a sermon may not. I have quite enough on my hands

without taking up the cudgels for the clergy, who will probably find Mr.

Gladstone's definition unflattering.

But I am diverging from my proper business, which is to say that I have

given no ground for the ascription of these opinions; and that, as a matter

of fact, I do not hold them and never have held them. It is Mr. Gladstone,

and not I, who will have it that the pentateuchal cosmogony is to be taken

as science.

My belief, on the contrary, is, and long has been, that the pentateuchal

story of the creation is simply a myth. I suppose it to be an hypothesis

respecting the origin of the universe which some ancient thinker found

himself able to reconcile with his knowledge, or what he thought was

knowledge, of the nature of things, and therefore assumed to be true. As

such, I hold it to be not merely an interesting, but a venerable, monument

of a stage in the mental progress of mankind; and I find it difficult to

suppose that any one who is acquainted with the cosmogonies of other {113}

nations--and especially with those of the Egyptians and the Babylonians,

with whom the Israelites were in such frequent and intimate

communication--should consider it to possess either more, or less,

scientific importance than may be allotted to these.

Mr. Gladstone's definition of a sermon permits me to suspect that he may

not see much difference between that form of discourse and what I call a

myth; and I hope it may be something more than the slowness of

apprehension, to which I have confessed, which leads me to imagine that a

statement which is "general" but "admits exceptions," which is "popular"

and "aims mainly at producing moral impression," "summary" and therefore

open to "criticism of detail," amounts to a myth, or perhaps less than a

myth. Put algebraically, it comes to this, _x_ = _a_ + _b_ + _c_; always

remembering that there is nothing to show the exact value of either _a_, or

_b_, or c. It is true that _a_ is commonly supposed to equal 10, but there

are exceptions, and these may reduce it to 8, or 3, or 0; _b_ also

popularly means 10, but being chiefly used by the algebraist as a "moral"

value, you cannot do much with it in the addition or subtraction of

mathematical values; _c_ also is quite "summary," and if you go into the

details of which it is made up, many of them may be wrong, and their sum

total equal to 0, or even to a minus quantity.

Mr. Gladstone appears to wish that I should (1) enter upon a sort of essay

competition with the author of the pentateuchal cosmogony; (2) that I

should make a further statement about some {114} elementary facts in the

history of Indian and Greek philosophy; and (3) that I should show cause

for my hesitation in accepting the assertion that Genesis is supported, at

any rate to the extent of the first two verses, by the nebular hypothesis.

A certain sense of humour prevents me from accepting the first invitation.

I would as soon attempt to put Hamlet's soliloquy into a more scientific

shape. But if I supposed the "Mosaic writer" to be inspired, as Mr.

Gladstone does, it would not be consistent with my notions of respect for

the Supreme Being to imagine Him unable to frame a form of words which

should accurately, or, at least, not inaccurately, express His own meaning.

It is sometimes said that, had the statements contained in the first

chapter of Genesis been scientifically true, they would have been

unintelligible to ignorant people; but how is the matter mended if, being

scientifically untrue, they must needs be rejected by instructed people?

With respect to the second suggestion, it would be presumptuous in me to

pretend to instruct Mr. Gladstone in matters which lie as much within the

province of Literature and History as in that of Science; but if any one

desirous of further knowledge will be so good as to turn to that most

excellent and by no means recondite source of information, the

_Encyclopaedia Britannica_, he will find, under the letter E, the word

"Evolution," and a long article on that subject. Now, I do not recommend

him to read the first half of the article; but the second half, by my {115}

friend Mr. Sully, is really very good. He will there find it said that in

some of the philosophies of ancient India, the idea of evolution is clearly

expressed: "Brahma is conceived as the eternal self-existent being, which,

on its material side, unfolds itself to the world by gradually condensing

itself to material objects through the gradations of ether, fire, water,

earth, and other elements." And again: "In the later system of emanation of

Sankhya there is a more marked approach to a materialistic doctrine of

evolution." What little knowledge I have of the matter--chiefly derived

from that very instructive book, _Die Religion des Buddha_, by C. F.

Koeppen, supplemented by Hardy's interesting works--leads me to think that

Mr. Sully might have spoken much more strongly as to the evolutionary

character of Indian philosophy, and especially of that of the Buddhists.

But the question is too large to be dealt with incidentally.

And, with respect to early Greek philosophy,[16] the seeker after

additional enlightenment need go no further than the same excellent

storehouse of information:--

The early Ionian physicists, including Thales, Anaximander, and

Anaximenes, seek to explain the world as generated out of a primordial

matter which is at the same time the universal support of things. This

substance is endowed with a generative or transmutative force by virtue

of which it passes into a {116} succession of forms. They thus resemble

modern evolutionists, since they regard the world, with its infinite

variety of forms, as issuing from a simple mode of matter.

Further on, Mr. Sully remarks that "Heraclitus deserves a prominent place

in the history of the idea of evolution," and he states, with perfect

justice, that Heraclitus has foreshadowed some of the special peculiarities

of Mr. Darwin's views. It is indeed a very strange circumstance that the

philosophy of the great Ephesian more than adumbrates the two doctrines

which have played leading parts, the one in the development of Christian

dogma, the other in that of natural science. The former is the conception

of the Word ([Greek: logos]) which took its Jewish shape in Alexandria, and

its Christian form[17] in that Gospel which is usually referred to an

Ephesian source of some five centuries later date; and the latter is that

of the struggle for existence. The saying that "strife is father and king

of all" ([Greek: polemos panton men pater esti, panton de basileus]),

ascribed to Heraclitus, would be a not inappropriate motto for the "Origin

of Species."

I have referred only to Mr. Sully's article, because his authority is quite

sufficient for my purpose. But the consultation of any of the more

elaborate histories of Greek philosophy, such as the great work of Zeller,

for example, will only bring out the same fact into still more striking

prominence. I have professed no "minute acquaintance" with either Indian or

Greek philosophy, but I have taken a great deal of pains to {117} secure

that such knowledge as I do possess shall be accurate and trustworthy.

In the third place, Mr. Gladstone appears to wish that I should discuss

with him the question whether the nebular hypothesis is, or is not,

confirmatory of the pentateuchal account of the origin of things. Mr.

Gladstone appears to be prepared to enter upon this campaign with a light

heart. I confess I am not, and my reason for this backwardness will

doubtless surprise Mr. Gladstone. It is that, rather more than a quarter of

a century ago (namely, in February 1859), when it was my duty, as President

of the Geological Society, to deliver the Anniversary Address,[18] I chose

a topic which involved a very careful study of the remarkable cosmogonical

speculation, originally promulgated by Immanuel Kant and, subsequently, by

Laplace, which is now known as the nebular hypothesis. With the help of

such little acquaintance with the principles of physics and astronomy as I

had gained, I endeavoured to obtain a clear understanding of this

speculation in all its bearings. I am not sure that I succeeded; but of

this I am certain, that the problems involved are very difficult, even for

those who possess the intellectual discipline requisite for dealing with

them. And it was this conviction that led me to express my desire to leave

the discussion of the question of the asserted harmony between Genesis and

the nebular hypothesis to experts in the appropriate branches of knowledge.

And I think my course was a {118} wise one; but as Mr. Gladstone evidently

does not understand how there can be any hesitation on my part, unless it

arises from a conviction that he is in the right, I may go so far as to set

out my difficulties.

They are of two kinds--exegetical and scientific. It appears to me that it

is vain to discuss a supposed coincidence between Genesis and science

unless we have first settled, on the one hand, what Genesis says, and, on

the other hand, what science says.

In the first place, I cannot find any consensus among Biblical scholars as

to the meaning of the words, "In the beginning God created the heaven and

the earth." Some say that the Hebrew word _bara_, which is translated

"create," means "made out of nothing." I venture to object to that

rendering, not on the ground of scholarship, but of common sense.

Omnipotence itself can surely no more make something "out of" nothing than

it can make a triangular circle. What is intended by "made out of nothing"

appears to be "caused to come into existence," with the implication that

nothing of the same kind previously existed. It is further usually assumed

that "the heaven and the earth" means the material substance of the

universe. Hence the "Mosaic writer" is taken to imply that where nothing of

a material nature previously existed, this substance appeared. That is

perfectly conceivable, and therefore no one can deny that it may have

happened. But there are other very authoritative {119} critics who say that

the ancient Israelite[19] who wrote the passage was not likely to have been

capable of such abstract thinking; and that, as a matter of philology,

_bara_ is commonly used to signify the "fashioning," or "forming," of that

which already exists. Now it appears to me that the scientific investigator

is wholly incompetent to say anything at all about the first origin of the

material universe. The whole power of his organon vanishes when he has to

step beyond the chain of natural causes and effects. No form of the nebular

hypothesis, that I know of, is necessarily connected with any view of the

origination of the nebular substance. Kant's form of it expressly supposes

that the nebular material from which one stellar system starts may be

nothing but the disintegrated substance of a stellar and planetary system

which has just come to an end. Therefore, so far as I can see, one who

believes that matter has existed from all eternity has just as much right

to hold the nebular hypothesis as one who believes that matter came into

existence at a specified epoch. In other words, the nebular hypothesis and

the creation hypothesis, up to this point, neither confirm nor oppose one

another.

Next, we read in the revisers' version, in which I suppose the ultimate

results of critical scholarship to be embodied: "And the earth was waste

['without form,' in the Authorised Version] and void." Most {120} people

seem to think that this phraseology intends to imply that the matter out of

which the world was to be formed was a veritable "chaos," devoid of law and

order. If this interpretation is correct, the nebular hypothesis can have

nothing to say to it. The scientific thinker cannot admit the absence of

law and order, anywhere or anywhen, in nature. Sometimes law and order are

patent and visible to our limited vision; sometimes they are hidden. But

every particle of the matter of the most fantastic-looking nebula in the

heavens is a realm of law and order in itself; and, that it is so, is the

essential condition of the possibility of solar and planetary evolution

from the apparent chaos.[20]

"Waste" is too vague a term to be worth consideration. "Without form,"

intelligible enough as a metaphor, if taken literally, is absurd; for a

material thing existing in space must have a superficies, and if it has a

superficies it has a form. The wildest streaks of marestail clouds in the

sky, or the most irregular heavenly nebulae, have surely just as much form

as a geometrical tetrahedron; and as for "void," how can that be void which

is full of matter? As poetry, these lines are vivid and admirable; as a

scientific statement, which they must be taken to be if any one is

justified in comparing them with another scientific statement, they fail to

convey any intelligible conception to my mind.

{121}

The account proceeds: "And darkness was upon the face of the deep." So be

it; but where, then, is the likeness to the celestial nebulae, of the

existence of which we should know nothing unless they shone with a light of

their own? "And the spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters." I

have met with no form of the nebular hypothesis which involves anything

analogous to this process.

I have said enough to explain some of the difficulties which arise in my

mind, when I try to ascertain whether there is any foundation for the

contention that the statements contained in the first two verses of Genesis

are supported by the nebular hypothesis. The result does not appear to me

to be exactly favourable to that contention. The nebular hypothesis assumes

the existence of matter, having definite properties, as its foundation.

Whether such matter was created a few thousand years ago, or whether it has

existed through an eternal series of metamorphoses of which our present

universe is only the last stage, are alternatives, neither of which is

scientifically untenable, and neither scientifically demonstrable. But

science knows nothing of any stage in which the universe could be said, in

other than a metaphorical and popular sense, to be formless or empty; or in

any respect less the seat of law and order than it is now. One might as

well talk of a fresh-laid hen's egg being "without form and void," because

the chick therein is potential and not actual, as apply such terms to the

nebulous mass which contains a potential solar system. {122}

Until some further enlightenment comes to me, then, I confess myself wholly

unable to understand the way in which the nebular hypothesis is to be

converted into an ally of the "Mosaic writer."[21]

But Mr. Gladstone informs us that Professor Dana and Professor Guyot are

prepared to prove that the "first or cosmogonical portion of the Proem not

only accords with, but teaches, the nebular hypothesis." There is no one to

whose authority on geological questions I am more readily disposed to bow

than that of my eminent friend Professor Dana. But I am familiar with what

he has previously said on this topic in his well-known and standard work,

into which, strangely enough, it does not seem to have occurred to Mr.

Gladstone to look before he set out upon his present undertaking; and

unless Professor Dana's latest contribution (which I have not yet met with)

takes up altogether new ground, I am afraid I shall {123} not be able to

extricate myself, by its help, from my present difficulties.

It is a very long time since I began to think about the relations between

modern scientifically ascertained truths and the cosmogonical speculations

of the writer of Genesis; and, as I think that Mr. Gladstone might have

been able to put his case with a good deal more force if he had thought it

worth while to consult the last chapter of Professor Dana's admirable

_Manual of Geology_, so I think he might have been made aware that he was

undertaking an enterprise of which he had not counted the cost, if he had

chanced upon a discussion of the subject which I published in 1877.[22]

Finally, I should like to draw the attention of those who take interest in

these topics to the weighty words of one of the most learned and moderate

of Biblical critics:--

A propos de cette premiere page de la Bible, on a coutume de nos jours

de disserter, a perte de vue, sur l'accord du recit mosaique avec les

sciences naturelles; et comme celles-ci, tout eloignees qu'elles sont

encore de la perfection absolue, ont rendu populaires et en quelque

sorte irrefragables un certain nombre de faits generaux ou de theses

fondamentales de la cosmologie et de la geologie, c'est le texte sacre

qu'on s'evertue a torturer pour le faire concorder avec ces

donnees.[23]

In my paper on the "Interpreters of Nature and the Interpreters of

Genesis," while freely availing myself of the rights of a scientific

critic, I endeavoured to keep the expression of my views well within those

{124} bounds of courtesy which are set by self-respect and consideration

for others. I am therefore glad to be favoured with Mr. Gladstone's

acknowledgment of the success of my efforts. I only wish that I could

accept all the products of Mr. Gladstone's gracious appreciation, but there

is one about which, as a matter of honesty, I hesitate. In fact, if I had

expressed my meaning better than I seem to have done, I doubt if this

particular proffer of Mr. Gladstone's thanks would have been made.

To my mind, whatever doctrine professes to be the result of the application

of the accepted rules of inductive and deductive logic to its

subject-matter; and accepts, within the limits which it sets to itself, the

supremacy of reason, is Science. Whether the subject-matter consists of

realities or unrealities, truths or falsehoods, is quite another question.

I conceive that ordinary geometry is science, by reason of its method, and

I also believe that its axioms, definitions, and conclusions are all true.

However, there is a geometry of four dimensions, which I also believe to be

science, because its method professes to be strictly scientific. It is true

that I cannot conceive four dimensions in space, and therefore, for me, the

whole affair is unreal. But I have known men of great intellectual powers

who seemed to have no difficulty either in conceiving them, or, at any

rate, in imagining how they could conceive them; and, therefore,

four-dimensioned geometry comes under my notion of science. So I think

astrology is a science, in so far as it professes to reason logically from

principles {125} established by just inductive methods. To prevent

misunderstanding, perhaps I had better add that I do not believe one whit

in astrology; but no more do I believe in Ptolemaic astronomy, or in the

catastrophic geology of my youth, although these, in their day,

claimed--and, to my mind, rightly claimed--the name of science. If nothing

is to be called science but that which is exactly true from beginning to

end, I am afraid there is very little science in the world outside

mathematics. Among the physical sciences, I do not know that any could

claim more than that it is true within certain limits, so narrow that, for

the present at any rate, they may be neglected. If such is the case, I do

not see where the line is to be drawn between exactly true, partially true,

and mainly untrue forms of science. And what I have said about the current

theology at the end of my paper [p. 95] leaves, I think, no doubt as to the

category in which I rank it. For all that, I think it would be not only

unjust, but almost impertinent, to refuse the name of science to the

_Summa_ of St. Thomas or to the _Institutes_ of Calvin.

In conclusion, I confess that my supposed "unjaded appetite" for the sort

of controversy in which it needed not Mr. Gladstone's express declaration

to tell us he is far better practised than I am (though probably, without

another express declaration, no one would have suspected that his

controversial fires are burning low) is already satiated.

In "Elysium" we conduct scientific discussions in {126} a different medium,

and we are liable to threatenings of asphyxia in that "atmosphere of

contention" in which Mr. Gladstone has been able to live, alert and

vigorous beyond the common race of men, as if it were purest mountain air.

I trust that he may long continue to seek truth, under the difficult

conditions he has chosen for the search, with unabated energy--I had almost

said fire--

May age not wither him, nor custom stale

His infinite variety.

But Elysium suits my less robust constitution better, and I beg leave to

retire thither, not sorry for my experience of the other region--no one

should regret experience--but determined not to repeat it, at any rate in

reference to the "plea for revelation."

* * * * *

NOTE ON THE PROPER SENSE OF THE "MOSAIC" NARRATIVE OF THE CREATION.

It has been objected to my argument from Leviticus (p. 103), that the

Hebrew words translated by "creeping things" in Genesis i. 24 and

Leviticus xi. 29, are different; namely, "reh-mes" in the former,

"sheh-retz" in the latter. The obvious reply to this objection is that

the question is not one of words but of the meaning of words. To borrow

an illustration from our own language, if "crawling things" had been

used by the translators in Genesis and "creeping things" in Leviticus,

it would not have been necessarily implied that they intended to denote

different groups of animals. "Sheh-retz" is employed in a wider sense

than "reh-mes." There are "sheh-retz" of the waters, of the earth, of

the air, and of the land. Leviticus speaks of land reptiles, among

other animals, as "sheh-retz"; Genesis speaks of all creeping land

animals, among which land reptiles are necessarily included, as

"reh-mes." Our translators, therefore, {127} have given the true sense

when they render both "sheh-retz" and "reh-mes" by "creeping things."

Having taken a good deal of trouble to show what Genesis i.-ii. 4 does

not mean, in the preceding pages, perhaps it may be well that I should

briefly give my opinion as to what it does mean. I conceive that the

unknown author of this part of the Hexateuchal compilation believed,

and meant his readers to believe, that his words, as they understood

them--that is to say, in their ordinary natural sense--conveyed the

"actual historical truth." When he says that such and such things

happened, I believe him to mean that they actually occurred and not

that he imagined or dreamed them; when he says "day," I believe he uses

the word in the popular sense; when he says "made" or "created," I

believe he means that they came into being by a process analogous to

that which the people whom he addressed called "making" or "creating";

and I think that, unless we forget our present knowledge of nature,

and, putting ourselves back into the position of a Phoenician or a

Chaldaean philosopher, start from his conception of the world, we shall

fail to grasp the meaning of the Hebrew writer. We must conceive the

earth to be an immovable, more or less flattened, body, with the vault

of heaven above, the watery abyss below and around. We must imagine

sun, moon, and stars to be "set" in a "firmament" with, or in, which

they move; and above which is yet another watery mass. We must consider

"light" and "darkness" to be things, the alternation of which

constitutes day and night, independently of the existence of sun, moon,

and stars. We must further suppose that, as in the case of the story of

the deluge, the Hebrew writer was acquainted with a Gentile (probably

Chaldaean or Accadian) account of the origin of things, in which he

substantially believed, but which he stripped of all its idolatrous

associations by substituting "Elohim" for Ea, Anu, Bel, and the like.

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