Chapter VIII: An Arrival (11)

As to the philosophical treatment of the doctrine of creation, we are glad to see that the professor has had the good sense of abstaining from it. This forbearance on his part was imperative for many reasons, and especially because, as appears from some expressions of his, he was quite incompetent to judge of the doctrine on its philosophical side. He says that it is not his present business to investigate “the causes which have led to the origination of nature,” nor to inquire “why the objects which constitute nature came into existence”; as if there were any other _why_ besides the will of the Creator, or any other _causes_ besides his omnipotence. But Mr. Huxley seems afraid of a Creator; hence he does not speak of a God, but of “causes” and “external agencies”; nor does he mention creation, but only “origination.” Vain efforts! For, if nature has had an origination, it either originated in something or in nothing: if in nothing, then such an origination is a real creation; if in something, then such an origination was only a modification of something pre-existing contingently (for nothing but the contingent is modifiable), whose existence must again be traced to creation. Had the lecturer honestly followed the historical method, he would have boldly started with those profound words of Genesis: “In the beginning God created heaven and earth,” and he would have found a solution, no less philosophical than historical, of his question.

These remarks go far to show that the professor’s reasons for ignoring the Biblical history (which he, of course, calls the “Biblical _hypothesis_”) are mere pretexts. Surely it was not his business to explain the Hebrew text; but this is no excuse. The only point which had a real importance in connection with the question at issue was whether the so-called _days_ of creation were natural days of twenty-four hours or periods of a much greater length. Now, this point could have been investigated with the Latin or the English text as well as with the Hebrew. Moreover, since “many eminent scholars,” and even “men of science,” as he states, have absolutely denied that the doctrine of the six natural days is found in Genesis at all, was it not plain that the geological epochs, wholly unknown to Milton, could not be considered as contradicting the Biblical record, but might rather coincide with that narrative, and help us to clear up some obscure phrases which we read in it? Prof. Huxley pretends that, if we listen to these eminent scholars and men of science, “we must believe that what seem so clearly defined as days of creation are not days at all, but periods that we may make just as long as convenience requires.” This is, indeed, the conclusion we draw from a full discussion of the subject; but we should like to know on what ground the professor assumes that the Genesis speaks _so clearly_ of natural days. It is the contrary that is _clearly_ implied in the language of the sacred writer; for it is evident that the three days which preceded the creation of the sun could not be natural days of twenty-four hours; and since their length has not been determined by the sacred writer, we are free “to make them just as long as convenience requires.” This reason, which may be strengthened by other expressions in the context, and by many other passages of the Bible where the word _day_ is used indefinitely for long periods of time, led many old interpreters, St. Augustine among others, to deny what Prof. Huxley so confidently asserts about the _clearness_ of the Scriptural testimony in favor of natural days. The professor evidently speaks of a subject which he has never studied, with the mischievous purpose of creating a conflict between science and faith.

What shall we say of his amusing hint at the “marvellous flexibility” of the Biblical language? Though greeted with _applause and laughter_ (by an audience that knew nothing about the Hebrew language), such a hint was a blunder. It is not the flexibility of the language that has ever been appealed to as the ground of different interpretations; it is the extreme conciseness of the narration, and the omission of numerous details, which might have proved interesting to the man of science, but which had nothing to do with the object pursued by the sacred writer. For the aim of the writer was to instruct men, not on science, but on the unity of God and his universal dominion. On the other hand, all languages have numbers of terms which can receive different interpretations; and the very word _day_, which the lecturer takes to mean _so clearly_ twenty-four hours, is used even by us in the sense of an indefinite length of time. We say, for instance, that _to-day_ anti-Christianity is rampant, just as well as that _to-day_ it has rained; and we hope that Professor Huxley will not on this account find fault with the English language, or sneer at its “marvellous flexibility.”

Finally, the professor says that he spoke of the Miltonic theory rather than of the “Mosaic doctrine,” because “we are now assured upon the authority of the highest critics, and even of dignitaries of the church, that there is no evidence whatever that Moses ever wrote this chapter or knew anything about it.” This allegation is not creditable to the judgment of the lecturer.

The Genesis is the undoubted work of Moses, as all ancient and modern scholars, both Jew and Christian, testify. If, however, Professor Huxley, upon the authority of his perverse or ignorant critics and of the rationalistic dignitaries of a false church, believes the contrary, it does not follow that the historical method obliged him to substitute the Miltonic theory for the Biblical history under pain of “entangling himself in a vexed question.” If there was a vexed question, he could discard it with a word. Nothing prevented him from speaking of “_what is styled_ the Mosaic doctrine.” The truth is that the professor labored all along to demolish the Mosaic doctrine under the name of Miltonic hypothesis, thinking, no doubt, that by this artifice he might just say enough to satisfy his friends the free-thinkers, without shocking too violently the public mind. The artifice, however, proved unsuccessful; and if the professor has seen the criticism passed on his lectures by the American press, he must now have acquired the conviction that the Miltonic hypothesis did not deserve the honor of a scientific refutation.

In his second lecture Mr. Huxley begins to deal with the evidences of evolution. He points out that such evidences are of three kinds――viz., _indifferent_, _favorable_, and _demonstrative_. The first two kinds he is prepared to examine at once, whilst the third he keeps in reserve for his last lecture. One might ask what an “indifferent evidence” is likely to mean. For, if any fact has no greater tendency to prove than to disprove a theory, such a fact does not constitute “evidence” on either side. This, of course, is true; but, in the language of the professor, “indifferent evidence” designates those facts which are brought against his theory, and which he believes to admit of a satisfactory explanation without abandoning the theory. Thus he relates how

“Cuvier endeavored to ascertain by a very just and proper
method what foundation there was for the belief in a gradual
and progressive change of animals, by comparing the
skeletons of all accessible parts of these animals (old
Egyptian remains)――such as crocodiles, birds, dogs, cats,
and the like――with those which are now found in Egypt; and
he came to the conclusion――a conclusion which has been
verified by all subsequent research――that no appreciable
change has taken place in the animals which inhabited Egypt,
and he drew thence the conclusion, _and a hasty one_, that
the evidence of such fact was altogether against the
doctrine of evolution.”

Again, the professor states that the animal remains deposited in the beds of stone lining the Niagara “belong to exactly the same forms as now inhabit the still waters of Lake Erie”; and these remains, according to his calculation, are more than thirty thousand years old. Again:

“When we examine the rocks of the cretaceous epoch itself,
we find the remains of some animals which the closest
scrutiny cannot show to be in any respect different from
those which live at the present time.” “More than that: At
the very bottom of the Silurian series, in what is by some
authorities termed the Cambrian formation, where all signs
appear to be dying out, even there, among the few and scanty
animal remains which exist, we find species of molluscous
animals which are so closely allied to existing forms that
at one time they were grouped under the same generic name.…
Facts of this kind are undoubtedly fatal to any form of
evolution which necessitates the supposition that there is
an intrinsic necessity on the part of animal forms which
once come into existence to undergo modifications; and they
are still more distinctly opposed to any view which should
lead to the belief that the modification in different types
of animal or vegetable life goes on equally and evenly. The
facts, as I have placed them before you, would obviously
contradict directly any such form of the hypothesis of
evolution as laid down in these two postulates.”

Here, then, we have facts which “contradict directly” any form of _necessary_ evolution. Now let us see how the professor strives to turn them into _indifferent evidences_ of _spontaneous_ evolution. He says:

“Now, the service that has been rendered by Mr. Darwin to
the doctrine of evolution in general is this: that he has
shown that there are two great factors in the process of
evolution, and one of them is the tendency to vary, the
existence of which may be proved by observation in all
living forms; the other is the influence of surrounding
conditions upon what I may call the parent form and the
variations which are thus evolved from it. The cause of that
production of variations is a matter not at all properly
understood at present. Whether it depends upon some
intricate machinery――if I may use the phrase――of the animal
form itself, or whether it arises through the influence of
conditions upon that form, is not certain, and the question
may for the present be left open. But the important point is
the tendency to the production of variations. Then whether
those variations shall survive and supplant the parent, or
whether the parent form shall survive and supplant the
variations, is a matter which depends entirely on
surrounding conditions.”

From this theory the lecturer concludes that the facts above mentioned as contradicting the doctrine of evolution are “no objection at all,” but belong to that class of evidence which he has called indifferent. “That is to say,” as he explains, “they may be no direct support to the doctrine of evolution but they are perfectly capable of being interpreted in consistency with it.” This is to tell us that Darwin, in order to evade the testimony of numerous facts which contradict evolution, had to resort to a very bold but gratuitous assumption. In fact, on what ground can he pretend that all living forms have a tendency to vary from one species to another, and that such a tendency may be proved by observation, when we have so many facts which prove that such a tendency has not shown itself for thousands and tens of thousands of years? As yet, no case of evolution from one species to another has been ascertained; and it surely requires a peculiar evolution of logic to affirm, in the presence of such a known fact, that the tendency to vary may be proved by observation. That there may be varieties within the range of one and the same species is a well-known truth; this is what observation has abundantly proved. But Mr. Darwin pretends that the tendency to vary is not confined within the range of the species, but extends from one species to another, so as to produce not only individual and accidental modifications, but also essential changes and differentiations; and this is what observation has hitherto been unable to prove. Thus the professor’s appeal to the Darwinian hypothesis is quite illogical, as it is nothing but a begging of the question.

It is singular that Professor Huxley himself, after telling us that the tendency to vary is proved by observation, immediately refutes his own assertion by showing that the whole theory of evolution rests on no actual observation, but on the mere hope of some possible observations which the future may keep in reserve for its triumph. Here is what he says:

“The great group of _lizards_, which abound so much at the
present day, extends through the whole series of formations
as far back as what is called the Permian epoch, which is
represented by the strata lying just above the coal. These
Permian lizards differ astonishingly little――in some
respects――from the lizards which exist at the present day.
Comparing the amount of difference between these Permian
lizards and the lizards of the present day with the
prodigious lapse of time between the Permian epoch and the
present age, it maybe said that there has been no
appreciable change. But the moment you carry the researches
further back in time you find no trace whatever of lizards,
nor any true reptile whatever, in the whole mass of
formations beneath the Permian. Now, it is perfectly clear
that if our existing palæontological collections, our
existing specimens from stratified rock, exhaust the whole
series of events which have ever taken place upon the
surface of the globe, such a fact as this directly
contravenes the whole theory of evolution, because that
postulates that the existence of every form must have been
preceded by that of some form comparatively little different
from it.”

So far, then, as existing specimens of palæontology are concerned, everything “directly contravenes the whole theory of evolution”; that is to say that observation, far from proving the theory, tends to disprove it. The lecturer, however, not dismayed by this crushing evidence, appeals to “the whole series of events” which must have preceded the epoch of the oldest existing specimens; and he invites us to take into consideration “that important fact so well insisted upon by Lyell and Darwin――the imperfection of the geological record.” No doubt the geological record is imperfect; but this imperfection cannot be made the ground of an argument in favor of evolution. To make it such would be like interpreting the silence of a witness for positive information. Prof. Huxley saw this, and, anticipating the objection which was sure to rise in the minds of his hearers, made an effort to evade it by saying: “Those who have not attended to these matters are apt to say to themselves, ‘It is all very well; but when you get into difficulty with your theory of evolution, you appeal to the incompleteness and the imperfection of the geological record’; and I want to make it perfectly clear to you that that imperfection is a vast fact which must be taken into account with all our speculations, or we shall constantly be going wrong.” The reader will notice how bluntly the lecturer ignores the drift of the objection. The objection is: “When you appeal to the remotest epochs, about which geology gives us so very scanty information, you appeal to _the unknown_; and this is a very singular method of answering that series of _known_ facts which directly contravene the theory of evolution.” The answer of the professor is: “You have not attended to these matters. Do you think that the geological record is perfect? I tell you that it is most imperfect and incomplete, and I am going to show that such is the case.” This answer confirms the objection, and shows that the theory of evolution is illogical.

The professor then mentions “the tracks of some gigantic animal which walked on its hind legs,” and remarks that, although untold thousands of such tracks are found upon our shores, yet “up to this present time not a bone, not a fragment, of any one of the great creatures which certainly made these impressions has been found.” And he concludes: “I know of no more striking evidence than this fact affords from which it may be concluded, in the absence of organic remains, that such animals did exist.” Of course they did exist; but their existence is no argument against those innumerable facts which bear positive witness against the theory of evolution. And yet the lecturer ventures to say:

“I believe that having the right understanding of the doctrine of evolution on the one hand, and having a just estimation of the importance of the imperfection of the geological record on the other, would remove all difficulty from the kind of evidence to which I have thus adverted; and this appreciation allows us to believe that all such cases are examples of what I may here call, and have hitherto designated, negative or indifferent evidence――that is to say, they in no way directly advance the theory of evolution, but they are no obstacle in the way of our belief in the doctrine.” That a long series of positive facts establishing the fixity of species during a great many thousand years are no obstacle in the way of our belief in an opposite theory, owing to the mistiness of all older geological records, which allows us to dream of facts contrary to the course of things, ascertained by constant observation, is an idea which “modern thought” may consider brilliant, but which common sense absolutely rejects.

In the remaining part of this second lecture Mr. Huxley deals with the evidence of intermediate forms: “If the doctrine of evolution be true, it follows that animals and plants, however diverse they may be, must have all been connected together by gradational forms, so that from the highest animals, whatever they may be, down to the lowest speck of gelatinous matter in which life can be manifested, there must be a sure and progressive body of evidence――a series of gradations by which you could pass from one end of the series to the other.” Let us remark, by the way, that the phrase “the highest animals, _whatever they may be_,” comprises rational animals――that is, all mankind; which would imply that our rational soul should be traced “to the lowest speck of gelatinous matter” as its first origin. We need not dwell here on this absurdity. The professor confesses that “we have crocodiles, lizards, snakes, turtles, and tortoises, and yet there is nothing――no connecting link――between the crocodile and lizard, or between the lizard and snake, or between the snake and the crocodile, or between any two of these groups. They are separated by absolute breaks.” Such being the case, it would seem that the professor had a sufficient ground for denying the theory of evolution altogether. But, no; whilst confessing that there is “no connecting link,” he pretends that we must show that no connecting link has _ever_ existed. His words are:

“If, then, it could be shown that this state of things was
from the beginning――had always existed――it would be fatal to
the doctrine of evolution. If the intermediate gradations
which the doctrine of evolution postulates must have existed
between these groups――if they are not to be found anywhere
in the records of the past history of the globe――all that is
so much a strong and weighty argument against evolution.
While, on the other hand, if such intermediate forms are to
be found, that is so much to the good of evolution, although
… we must be cautious in assuming such facts as proofs of
the theory.”

The wisdom of this last caution is undeniable; but is there not a contradiction in the phrases “there is no connecting link” and “the intermediate forms may be found”?

He then proceeds to show some osteologic relations by which birds and reptiles seem to be connected, but from which, as he concedes, no proof of the theory of evolution can be formed, and he concludes in the following words: “In my next lecture I will take up what I venture to call the _demonstrative evidence_ of evolution.” Let us, then, give up all further examination of the second lecture, and proceed to a short inquiry upon the kind of evidence condensed in the third.

We must say at once that the evidence contained in the whole of this third lecture neither directly nor indirectly demonstrates that one species of animals has been evolved out of another species. Granting that the animal remains described by the professor correspond entirely to his description of them, and waiving all question about the correct interpretation of the same, we shall merely pass in review the logical process by which such remains are made to give testimony to the Darwinian view.

In the exordium Mr. Huxley assumes, as a point already established in his second lecture, that the evidence derived from fossil remains “is perfectly consistent with the doctrine of evolution.” We have seen that this is not true. The professor, entirely forgetful of all the facts which he himself had acknowledged to “directly contravene the whole theory of evolution,” insists on the relations between birds and reptiles and their intermediate forms. “We find,” he says, “in the mesozoic rocks animals which, if ranged in series, would so completely bridge over the interval between the reptile and the bird that it would be very hard to say where the reptile ends and where the bird begins.” And he adds that “evidence so distinctly favorable as this of evolution is far weightier than that upon which men undertake to say that they believe many important propositions; but it is not the highest kind of evidence attained.” If we ask the professor why this evidence is not the highest, he will give us this reason:

“That, as it happens, the intermediate forms to which I have
referred do not occur in the exact order in which they ought
to occur if they really had formed steps in the progression
from the reptile to the bird; that is to say, we find these
forms in contemporaneous deposits, whereas the requirements
of the demonstrative evidence of evolution demand that we
should find the series of gradations between one group of
animals and another in such order as they must have followed
if they had constituted a succession of stages in time of
the development of the form at which they ultimately arrive.
That is to say, the complete evidence of the evolution of
the bird from the reptile should be of this character, that
in some ancient formation reptiles alone should be found, in
some later formation birds should first be met with, and in
the intermediate formations we should discover in regular
succession forms which I pointed out to you, which are
intermediate between the reptile and the birds.”

This answer proves not only that the evidence alleged is not the highest kind of evidence in favor of evolution, but also that the evidence conflicts with the hypothesis of evolution in such a manner as to cut the ground from under the feet of the lecturer. For if the intermediate forms between the reptile and the bird are contemporaneous with the reptile and the bird, it follows that the bird has not been evolved from the reptile through those intermediate forms. It is therefore in vain that Mr. Huxley appeals to this evidence as “so distinctly favorable to evolution.”

The body of the lecture consists of an attempt to show, from the osteology of the genus _Equus_, that our modern horse proceeds from the _Orohippus_. The lecturer first describes the characteristics of the horse, using the term “horse” in a general sense as equivalent to the technical term _Equus_, and meaning not only what we now call the horse, but also asses and their modifications――zebras, etc. He invites us to pay a special attention to the foot and the teeth of the horse; and then he reasons as follows:

“If the hypothesis of evolution is true, what ought to
happen when we investigate the history of this animal? We
know that the mammalian type, as a whole, that mammalian
animals are characterized by the possession of a perfectly
distinct radius and ulna-two separate and distinct movable
bones, We know, further, that mammals in general possess
five toes, often unequal, but still as completely developed
as the five digits of my hand. We know, further, that the
general type of mammals possesses in the leg not only a
complete tibia, but a complete fibula. The small bone of the
leg is, as a general rule, a perfectly complete, distinct,
movable bone. Moreover, in the hind-foot we find in animals
in general five distinct toes, just as we do in the
fore-foot. Hence it follows that we have a differentiated
animal like the horse, which has proceeded by way of
evolution or gradual modification from a similar form
possessing all the characteristics we find in mammals in
general. If that be true, it follows that, if there be
anywhere preserved in the series of rocks a complete history
of the horse――that is to say, of the various stages through
which he has passed――those stages ought gradually to lead us
back to some sort of animal which possessed a radius, and an
ulna, and distinct complete tibia and fibula, and in which
there were five toes upon the fore limb no less than upon
the hind limb. Moreover, in the average general mammalian
type, the higher mammalian, we find as a constant rule an
approximation to the number of forty-four complete teeth, of
which six are cutting teeth, two are canine, and the others
of which are grinders. In unmodified mammals we find the
incisors have no pit, and that the grinding teeth as a rule
increase in size from that which lies in front towards those
which lie in the middle or at the hinder part of the series.
Consequently, if the theory of evolution be correct, if that
hypothesis of the origin of living things have a foundation,
we ought to find in the series the forms which have preceded
the horse, animals in which the mark upon the incisor
gradually more and more disappears, animals in which the
canine teeth are present in both sexes, and animals in which
the teeth gradually lose the complication of their crowns,
and have a simpler and shorter crown, while at the same time
they gradually increase in size from the anterior end of the
series towards the posterior.”

The professor then proceeds to show that all these conditions are fulfilled:

“In the middle and earlier parts of the pliocene epoch, in
deposits which belong to that age, and which occur in
Germany and in Greece, to some extent in Britain and in
France, there we find animals which are like horses in all
the essential particulars which I have just described, … but
they differ in some important particulars. There is a
difference in the structure of the fore and hind limb, … but
nevertheless we have here a horse in which the lateral toes,
almost abortive in the existing horse, are fully developed.”

This horse is the _Hipparion_.

In the miocene formations “you find equine animals which differ essentially from the modern horse … in the character of their fore and hind limbs, and present important features of difference in the teeth. The forms to which I now refer are what are known to constitute the genus _Anchitherium_. We have here three toes, and the middle toe is smaller in proportion, the lower toes are larger … and in the fore arm you find the ulna, a very distinct bone,” etc., etc.

Lastly, in the oldest part of the eocene formation we find the _Orohippus_, which is the oldest specimen of equine animals:

“Here we have the four toes on the front limb complete,
three toes on the hind limb complete, a well-developed ulna,
a well-developed fibula, and the teeth of simple pattern. So
you are able, thanks to these great researches, to show
that, so far as present knowledge extends, the history of
the horse type is exactly and precisely that which could
have been predicted from a knowledge of the principles of
evolution. And the knowledge we now possess justifies us
completely in the anticipation that when the still lower
eocene deposits and those which belong to the cretaceous
epoch have yielded up their remains of equine animals, we
shall find first an equine creature with four toes in front
and a rudiment of the thumb. Then probably a rudiment of the
fifth toe will be gradually supplied, until we come to the
five-toed animals, in which most assuredly the whole series
took its origin.”

To say plainly what we think of this long argumentation, we believe that it demonstrates nothing but the eminent talkative faculty of the lecturer. It all comes to this: Unmodified mammals have five fingers and five toes, whereas the modern horse has only one. Therefore the modern horse is but a modification of a pre-existing form, and is to be traced to the _hipparion_, the _anchitherium_, the _orohippus_, and other more ancient forms which we have not yet discovered, but which we hope to discover hereafter. Now, this style of reasoning is simply ridiculous.

First, even granting all the premises of the professor, the conclusion that one species is derived from another by evolution would still remain unproved. For who told Prof. Huxley that the animal remains on which he bases his argument belong to different species, and not to different varieties of one and the same species? Surely, a greater or less development of one or two bones cannot be considered a sufficient evidence of specific difference; for we know that even in the same variety there may be a different development; as in the hound, which sometimes possesses a spurious hind toe, and in the mastiff, which occasionally shows the same peculiarity. Hence the professor has no right to assume that the horse, the hipparion, the anchitherium, etc., are animals of different species; and therefore his argument has nothing to do with the evolution of one species from another.

Secondly, to assume without proof that “unmodified mammalia” have five fingers and five toes is to assume without proof the very conclusion which was to be demonstrated; for it is to assume that the modern horse, which has neither five fingers nor five toes, is not an unmodified mammal, but a product evolved by some more ancient form. Now, this is what logicians call _petitio principii_.

Thirdly, what does Prof. Huxley mean by _unmodified_ mammalia? What are they? For, in his theory of evolution, every animal is a _modification_ of a preceding form, and the whole series of living beings contains nothing but _modified_ organisms. To find, therefore, an unmodified mammal, it would be necessary to find the _first_ of all mammals from which all other mammals of the same class have proceeded. This first mammal is still to be discovered, as the professor concedes. How, then, could he know that the unmodified mammal has five fingers and five toes? And if he did not know this, how did he assume it as the very ground of his pretended demonstration?

Fourthly, how does Prof. Huxley know that the horse proceeds from the hipparion, the hipparion from the anchitherium, and the anchitherium from the orohippus? Of this he knows nothing whatever. He has no other ground for his assertion, except the different ages to which those deposits belong: but a difference of age does not prove that the older is the parent of the younger. Alexander the Great existed before Annibal, Annibal before Cæsar, Cæsar before Napoleon. Will our professor infer from this that Napoleon was the lineal descendant of Alexander the Great?

Fifthly, it is not true that “the history corresponds exactly with what one could construct _a priori_ from the principles of evolution.” The principles of the theory of evolution demand that the more complex organisms be considered as evolved from the less complex, and the more developed as evolved from the less developed; for, according to the theory, the further we go back towards the origin of life, the nearer we approach the “protoplasm” or the “gelatinous matter.” It would therefore be more in accordance with the theory of evolution to say that the five-toed animals must have proceeded from animals possessing a simpler and less developed organism, and that the horse is the parent of the hipparion, and of the anchitherium and of the orohippus, which is quite contrary to geological evidence. Hence geological evidence flatly contradicts the principles of evolution. In other terms, if mammalia of different species have been evolved from one another, those animals whose organism is more developed must be more modern. Now, the orohippus has an organism more developed than that of the horse. Therefore the orohippus, by the principles of the theory, is more modern than the existing horse. But geological evidence shows the contrary. Therefore geological evidence directly conflicts with the principles of evolution.

Sixthly, the whole argument of the professor may be condensed in the following syllogism: If the theory of evolution is true, then we must find such and such fossils. But we find such and such fossils. Therefore the theory of evolution is true. By this form of reasoning one would prove anything he likes. Thus, for example, we might say, if Professor Huxley has graduated at Yale College, New Haven, he must know the English language. But he knows the English language. Therefore he has graduated at Yale College, New Haven. The fallacy consists in supposing that such and such fossils could not be found, except in the hypothesis that evolution is true. Hence, to avoid the fallacy, the conditionate proposition should have been inverted――that is, it should have been: If we find such and such fossils in such and such deposits, then the theory of evolution is true. But this proposition could not be assumed without proofs.

But, says the lecturer:

“An inductive hypothesis is said to be demonstrated when the
facts are shown to be in entire accordance with it. If that
is not scientific proof, there are no inductive conclusions
which can be said to be scientific. And the doctrine of
evolution at the present time rests upon exactly as secure a
foundation as the Copernican theory of the motion of the
heavenly bodies. Its basis is precisely of the same
character――the coincidence of the observed facts with
theoretical requirements. As I mentioned just now, the only
way of escape, if it be a way of escape, from the
conclusions which I have just indicated, is the supposition
that all these different forms have been created separately
at separate epochs of time; and I repeat, as I said before,
that of such a hypothesis as this there neither is nor can
be any scientific evidence; and assuredly, so far as I know,
there is none which is supported, or pretends to be
supported, by evidence or authority of any other kind.”

These sweeping assertions are all founded on the assumption that the facts have been shown to be in entire accordance with the hypothesis. But we have shown that the facts contradict the hypothesis. It is therefore a scientific necessity to deny the hypothesis. Moreover, scientific hypotheses are not proved by the mere coincidence of the observed facts with theoretical requirements; it is necessary to show, further, that the observed facts cannot be reconciled with a different theory. Hence, even if the professor had shown the agreement of the facts with his hypothesis, he would still have had no right to conclude in favor of his hypothesis on that ground alone; for he would have been obliged to show also that the Mosaic theory does not agree with those facts. What he says about “the only way of escape” is a vain boast, which has no real importance except in as much as it may serve for rhetorical effect. We have no need of seeking a way of escape; for we still follow our own old way, which remains unobstructed. We need not “make the supposition that all different forms have been created at separate epochs of time,” though they may have been so created; nor do we require “scientific evidence” of the truth of creation, for we have sufficient Biblical and philosophical evidence of it; nor do we want evidence of certain distinct or “separate” creations, for we have this evidence in the Book of Genesis. If any one needs “a way of escape,” it is the professor himself, who has ventured to defend a theory equally condemned by the Mosaic history of the origin of things and by the characteristic peculiarities of the geological remains which he has produced. As for us, even if it were proved that the horse, the hipparion, the anchitherium, and the orohippus are animals of different species, nothing would oblige us to admit that these animals have been created “at separate epochs of time”――that is to say, in different Scriptural days; for these days, or epochs, are each sufficiently long to encompass the events to which the geological record bears testimony. On the other hand, were we to assume that such animals have been created at separate epochs of time, we do not see on what ground the professor could refute such a conjecture. He might say, of course, that there is no “scientific evidence” for the supposition; but we might reply that there are many facts which science must accept on other than scientific evidence; and we might even maintain that those fossil remains on which the lecturer has founded his pretended demonstration are themselves a _primâ facie_ evidence in favor of said supposition. But the supposition is not needed, as we have remarked.

The professor concludes his lecture thus: “I shall consider I have done you the greatest service which it was in my power in such a way to do, if I have thus convinced you that this great question which we are discussing is not one to be discussed, dealt with, by rhetorical flourishes or by loose and superficial talk, but that it requires the keenest attention of the trained intellect, and the patience of the most accurate observer.”

These words were applauded by the audience, and we too are glad to applaud. But we may be allowed to doubt if the lecturer, in dealing with the question of evolution, has shown much respect for the maxim which he proclaims. We do not mean, of course, that Professor Huxley’s intellect is untrained, or that his scientific observations are inaccurate, but we think we can safely say that his logic is not as accurate as his scientific observations, and that his trained intellect is apt to relish sham arguments and superficial talk. When a man can gravely express the opinion that “there may be a world where two and two do not make four,” the intellect of that man makes a poor show indeed; nor does it make a better show by assuming that “there may have been a time when the relation of cause and effect was still indefinite.” In like manner, when a man in the discussion of a historical question ignores all historical documents except those which he thinks favorable to his views; when he strives to evade the evidence of certain facts which cannot be reconciled with his theory; or when he brings as a proof of the theory what under examination is found to clash with the principles of the same theory, we must be excused if we cannot admire his logic.

The lecturer’s misfortune is that he is a victim of that proud and absurd system of knowledge which is named “modern thought.” The apostles of this system strive to suppress God. The universe, according to them, is not necessarily the work of an intelligent Being. Give them only a few specks of “gelatinous matter,” and they will tell you that nothing else is required to account for the origin of life, intellect, and reason. If you say that this is impossible, because the effect cannot be more perfect than its causality, they will inform you that the words _cause_ and _effect_, though still tolerated, are becoming obsolete, just as the ideas which they express. If you ask, How did the “gelatinous matter” itself originate? they will let you understand that their science cannot go so far as to attempt a clear answer; because, as Prof. Huxley adroitly puts it, “the attempt to fix any limit at which we should assign the commencement of the series of changes is given up.” This suffices to form a just estimate of the scientific hypotheses concocted by the leaders of “modern thought.” We are apt to boast of our superior knowledge: but it is one of the disasters of our time that the absurd theories of such a perverted science find ready acceptance among educated men.

[152] _Quis est tam vecors, qui ea quæ tanta mente fiunt,
casu putet posse fieri?_――Who is so silly as to believe that
things so wisely ruled can be the effect of chance?

UP THE NILE.

I.

When Philip’s son, on his way to the temple of Jupiter Ammon in the African desert, selected the abode of the fabulous Proteus for his future city, the gods encouraged their much-loved child with a favorable omen. For whilst Dinocrates, the architect, was marking out the lines upon the ground, the chalk he used was exhausted; whereupon the king, who was present, ordered the flour destined for the workmen’s food to be employed in its stead, thereby enabling him to complete the outline of many of the streets. An infinite number of birds, says Plutarch, of several kinds, rising suddenly like a black cloud out of the river and lake, devoured the flour. Alexander, troubled in mind――as the workmen, no doubt, were both in mind and body, although the historian does not so relate――consulted the augurs. These discreet men, who read the divine Mind in their own fashion, advised him to proceed, by observing that the occurrence was a sign the city he was about to build would enjoy such abundance of all things that it would contribute to the nourishment of many nations. The workmen having swallowed their indignation in place of their food, the work proceeded, and Alexander, before continuing his journey, witnessed the commencement of his flourishing city, B.C. 323. Thus rose up Alexandria, the gate of the Orient. Centuries are as naught in its calendar; nay, thousands of years give but a feeble idea of the length of its civilized existence. Enter the portals of the Alexandria of to-day. What a new world spreads out before you! Is it not all a masquerade? These strange boatmen with their bright-colored robes, their magpie chattering――are they real? Color――color everywhere: the cloudless blue sky above, the green waters beneath, the dark complexions, the red, green, yellow of their garments, the endless confusion of colors in, around, and about. Close the eyes, or they will be dazzled. Struggle now, or see, those fellows will tear you apart and carry you in pieces to the shore, head in one boat, legs in another――happy you if even both legs are in the same boat. Fight hard now to retain your entire individuality. Well done! Now follow this handsome Arab; he is a dragoman and will protect you. Take his olive-green suit and bright red fez for a guide. See how he strikes right and left; and, by Allah! down go a score of boatmen. Are they hurt? No matter; they are only Arabs, and menials at that. He has you in his own boat now――sound, too, nothing wanting; feel, if you are in doubt――yes, head, arms, legs, body, all here; and he stands in the stern and smiles complacently. He will talk to you in any language, unintelligibly perhaps, but then with such grace and dignity; you must pretend to understand him. He will give you any information, from the cost of building the pyramids to the price of donkey-hire; will take you anywhere――to Pompey’s Pillar, Assouan, the Mountains of the Moon. And when you timidly inquire where the mountains are, thinking you might like to make a short visit, he smiles patronizingly, and waves his hand gracefully to the south. Up there!――three thousand miles or more. But what is that to him? You are surprised that he should have creditors, a man of his appearance; but you are relieved, for he pays his debts, and the custom-house officials smile, place their hands on their hearts, and bow your luggage out of the custom-house. You are already beginning to feel proud at being the friend of so great a man. That famous flirt Cleopatra lived here, and toyed with the hearts of men――some of them real men, too; not the Egyptian fops of the day, the Greek society men, or the Roman swells, but such men as Antony, who lost half the world for her at Actium. She it was who amused herself by swallowing pearls, and finally left this world to avoid the honor of adorning the triumph of Octavius. The augurs were right. Alexander’s city did contribute to the nourishment of many nations, physically and intellectually. Its sails whitened every sea, bearing to the capital and provinces of the empire the treasures of Egypt, Arabia, and India. Students flocked to its schools; its great library contained over seven hundred thousand volumes. Even as late as A.D. 641, when Amru captured the city after a siege of fourteen months, in his letter to Omar he tells him that he found there four thousand palaces, as many baths, four hundred places of amusement, and twelve thousand gardens. Amru was inclined to spare the library, being urged to do so by John Philopanus; but Omar sent orders: “If the books contain the same matter as the Koran, they are useless; if not the same, they are worse than useless. Therefore, in either case, they are to be burnt.” Even in their destruction they were made useful; for Abdollatiff says there were so many books that the baths of Alexandria were heated by them for the space of six months. Those mystical enigmas of Western childhood――Cleopatra’s Needles――turn out to be but obelisks after all, and not of the best. They stood originally at Heliopolis, but Tiberius set them up in front of the Cæsarium in honor of himself. Those old emperors were fond of raising monuments to themselves, that future generations might wonder at their exploits, which many times were performed in imagination only. One has fallen, and is a white elephant on the hands of England. The English do not know what to do with it. Mohammed Ali gave it to them, and even offered to transport it free of expense to the shore and put it on any vessel sent to remove it. Possibly he thought it reminded the people too much of Tiberius, and wanted to set up one for his own glorification. No vessel was sent, and here it remains, half covered with _débris_. Pompey’s Pillar is a column of highly-polished red granite ninety-eight feet nine inches in height, twenty-nine feet eight inches in circumference, erected by another of those modest Roman emperors――Diocletian by name――for the same purpose that Tiberius set up the old obelisk. It is a wonder that some of these unpretentious rulers, with their characteristic modesty, did not carry out the idea proposed to Alexander by Dinocrates, and have Mount Athos cut into a statue of themselves, holding in one hand a city of ten thousand inhabitants, and from the other pouring a copious river into the sea. Perhaps they thought this city would be deserted, the inhabitants fearing that natural instinct would cause the hand to close and grab up everything, people and all. What a motley mass of humanity throng its narrow streets――Greeks, Jews, Turks, and people of almost every nation in Europe, but few Copts, the descendants of the old Egyptians. When Cambyses made his trip to Egypt, 524 B.C., he persuaded most of them to leave the Delta and retire to the Thebaid, where their descendants are found to this day. It is hard to understand the Copt. In other parts of the world a man who can trace his pedigree a few centuries back carries that fact in his face, and considers himself, and is considered, above other men. Here we talk in an off-hand, familiar way with Copts living in the same place where their ancestors have lived for six thousand years or more――men who can trace their ancestry through a long roll of illustrious names to the world’s conquerors, the Rameses and Ositarsens; and they were not proud of it――in fact, they did not seem to know anything about it. Perhaps it was such an old, old story that it had been forgotten ages before.

A well-managed railway leads to Cairo. Strange!――a railway in the land where the grandson of Noe settled, where Joseph outwitted the king’s cunning ministers: Mash el Káheral, the victorious city, called Cairo by the Western barbarians, with donkeys and camels, eunuchs and harems, palm-trees and dahabeeáhs, all within sight of the station, and yet to be pushed into an omnibus! O Western civilization! will you never let this picturesque world alone? To travel five thousand miles, thinking all the way of riding on donkeys like Ali Baba, or perched high on a camel like Mohammed, and then be conveyed to the hotel in an omnibus, as though in London or New York! I thought I could detect a frown on the Sphinx’s usually impassible face, as one passed it the other day. You can easily imagine the pyramids holding serious debate as to the advisability of ruining themselves as objects of interest by tumbling over and crushing out these new-fangled contrivances. We are going up the Nile, so we steal a hasty glance at the pyramids, nod to the Sphinx as though we had been on speaking terms for three or four thousand years, visit the citadel at sunset, get bewildered at the strange sights, do and see everything in the orthodox style, and are off. Going up the Nile, I determined to write a book, so voluminous notes were taken――measurements and statistics enough to puzzle the brain of an antiquarian; such meteorological observations, too!――Probabilities would have found it hard to digest them. All travellers do this. Coming down the Nile, I concluded that I would not write a book. Most travellers do this. Before going to the East I had no idea of the vast amount of literature existing touching Egypt, the Egyptians, and the Nile trip. Returning, I was conversant with it. I had seen the people through the richly-tinted glasses of euphonious Curtis, had studied them through the sombre spectacles of erudite Wilkinson and Lane. I had watched them through the soft lens of a woman’s tender mind, and been startled at their wondrous doings under the magnifying-glasses of highly marvellous Prime. I intended telling why I went to the East. Most writers think an apology due their readers for leaving home, or, at least, that they should give their reasons, the difficulties of engaging a dahabeeáh, to report what the reis said, and how our dragoman answered him――all in broken English, of course. But I will simply tell a short story――how certain pale-faced howadjii from the West sailed up to the second cataract of the Nile and back again, and what befell them.