Chapter XI: A Morning with St. Peter (6)

The _Popular Science Monthly_, conducted by Mr. E. L. Youmans, labors hard (December, 1876) to support the assertion made by Professor Huxley that evolution is already as well demonstrated as the Copernican theory. This assertion had been refuted by the Rev. Dr. William M. Taylor in a letter to the New York _Tribune_, and it is against a portion of this letter that Mr. Youmans strives to defend Mr. Huxley’s evolutionary views. We ourselves have given a short refutation of Professor Huxley’s lectures on evolution,[16] and we had no intention to revert to the same subject; but since opposite writers are unwilling to acknowledge defeat, but pretend, on the contrary, that their opponents do not make a right use of logic, it may be both instructive and interesting to inquire what kind of logic is actually used in this controversy by the evolutionists themselves.

Footnote 16:

See THE CATHOLIC WORLD for February, 1877, page 616.

“It is significant,” says Mr. Youmans, “that nearly all the divines who have spoken in reply to Prof. Huxley commit themselves to some form of the doctrine of evolution.” This statement is not correct. Divines admit, as they have ever admitted, the development of varieties within the same species; but the pretended evolution of one species from another they have never admitted, and they do not look upon it as admissible, even now. There may be some exception, for divines are still human and may be imposed upon by false science; but the truth is that those among them who have replied to Prof. Huxley never meant to “commit themselves” to any form of the doctrine of evolution as presented by him. They admit, as Mr. Youmans remarks, “that there is _some_ truth in it”—which is by no means strange, as false theories have often been evolved from undeniable facts; but they raise “a common protest against the idea that it contains _much_ truth,” which shows that these divines were quite unwilling to commit themselves to the doctrine. Hence it is plain that, if the conduct of these divines is “significant,” it does not signify a yielding disposition, but the contrary.

Prof. Huxley had said that the evidence for the theory of evolution is demonstrative, and that it is as well based in its proofs as the Copernican theory of astronomy. “This,” says Mr. Youmans, “is thought to be quite absurd. It is said that Huxley may know a great deal about animals and fossils, but that obviously he knows very little about logic. His facts being admitted, a great deal of effort has been expended to show that he does not understand how to reason from them.” We agree with the critics here alluded to, that Prof. Huxley’s assertion concerning the demonstrative character of his proofs is “quite absurd.” As to his knowledge of logic, there might perhaps be two opinions; for a man may know logic, and make a wilful abuse of it; but it is more charitable to assume that his illogical conclusions proceed from ignorance rather than malice. After all, we are not concerned with the person of the professor, but with his lectures; and, whatever logic he may know, his lectures are certainly not a model of logical reasoning. The passage which Mr. Youmans extracts from Dr. Taylor’s letter, and which he vainly endeavors to refute, is as follows:

“Indeed, to affirm, as he [Prof. Huxley] did, that evolution stands
exactly on the same basis as the Copernican theory of the motions of
the heavenly bodies, is an assertion so astounding that we can only
'stand by and admire’ the marvellous effrontery with which it was
made. That theory rests on facts presently occurring before our
eyes, and treated in the manner of mathematical precision. It is not
an inference made by somebody from a record of facts existing in
far-off and pre-historic, possibly also pre-human, ages. It is
verified every day by occurrences which happen according to its
laws. But where do we see evolution going on to-day? If evolution
rests upon a basis as sure as astronomy, why do we not see one
species passing into another now, even as we see the motions of the
planets through the heavens?... We know that astronomy is true,
because we are verifying its conclusions every day of our lives on
land and on sea. We set our clocks according to its conclusions, and
navigate our ships in accordance with its predictions; but where
have we anything approaching even infinitesimally to this, with
evolution?”

Mr. Youmans remarks that the author of this passage is said to be a man of eminence and ability. “That may be,” he adds, “but he certainly has not won his distinction either in the fields of logic, astronomy, or biology.” To prove this, he makes the following argument:

“When a man undertakes to state the evidence of a theory, and gives
us proofs that equally sustain an opposite theory, we naturally
conclude that he does not know what he is talking about. This is
very much Dr. Taylor’s predicament. In trying to contrast the
evidence for evolution with the demonstrative proofs of the
Copernican theory, he cites facts that are not only as good, but far
better, to prove the truth of its antagonist, the Ptolemaic theory.”

Our readers will probably ask how it is possible to prove that a thing is black by the very facts which prove, even better, that the thing is white? That certain facts may be insufficient to prove either the one or the other of two opposite theories every one will admit; but that facts which are good to prove the movement of the earth are even better to prove its immobility, is what Mr. Youmans alone has the privilege of understanding.

Dr. Taylor, in his argument against Prof. Huxley, assumed the truth of the modern astronomical theory, and said that this theory was proved by facts presently occurring before our eyes; which is not the case with the hypothesis of evolution. But, as he did not mention in particular those facts which are considered to constitute the most irrefragable proof of the theory, his silence about them is interpreted by Mr. Youmans as an effect of ignorance. It is not our affair to defend Dr. Taylor; but we think that this interpretation is unfair. The reverend doctor was not writing a treatise of astronomy; he was simply stating a known doctrine, of which it was not his duty to make the demonstration. On the other hand, even if we admitted that the reverend doctor knows but little of astronomy, we do not see that this would weaken his argument; for, whether he knows much or nothing in this branch of science, it remains true that the Copernican theory is proved “by facts presently occurring before our eyes”—which is not the case with the hypothesis of evolution. It is to this truth that Mr. Youmans should have given his attention, if he desired “to win any distinction in the field of logic”; but his peculiar logic shrank from this duty, and prompted him to prefer a gratuitous denunciation of his opponent.

Mr. Youmans pretends that Dr. Taylor “talks as if the Copernican theory is something that anybody can see by looking up in the sky.” Dr. Taylor’s words do not admit of such a nonsensical construction. The Copernican theory, he says, “rests on facts presently occurring before our eyes, and treated in the manner of mathematical precision.” This obviously means that the Copernican theory is based on both observation and calculation. Now, surely Mr. Youmans will not maintain that we can find mathematical formulas and make astronomical calculations by simply “looking up in the sky.”

He goes on to say that the Ptolemaic theory was the fundamental conception of astronomy; that it guided its scientific development for two thousand years; that it was based on extensive, prolonged, and accurate observations; that it was elucidated and confirmed by mathematics; that it was _verified_ by confirming the power of astronomical prevision; and that the planetary motions were traced and resolved on this theory with great skill and correctness, elaborate tables being constructed, which represented their irregularities and inequalities, so that their future positions could be foretold, and conjunctions, oppositions, and eclipses predicted.

These and similar remarks of the scientific editor would tend to prove that the Congregation of the Holy Office had very good and substantial grounds for condemning the heliocentric theory, and that Galileo was a visionary; for the theory which he impugned was “confirmed by mathematics,” and “verified by confirming the power of astronomical prevision.” We are quite sure, however, that this is not what Mr. Youmans intended to prove; and yet it does not appear why he should fill a column of his magazine with such a panegyric of a defunct theory. We concede—and the fact has never been disputed—that astronomy owes an immense debt to the ante-Copernican investigators for their careful observations and laborious calculations; but we do not see how this has anything to do with Dr. Taylor’s criticism. Had the reverend doctor denied that there was any real knowledge of astronomy before Copernicus, his critic might have been justified in trying to enlighten him about the merits of the Ptolemaic astronomers; but Dr. Taylor had not committed himself on this point, and therefore had no apparent need of being enlightened on the subject. The information, consequently, which Mr. Youmans volunteers to offer him is superfluous, not to say impertinent, and, inasmuch as it professes to be an argument, is a complete failure; for it aims at proving what no one has ever denied.

But the scientific editor in giving his needless information commits another blunder, which we could hardly expect from a man of science, by affirming that the Ptolemaic theory “was elucidated and confirmed by mathematics.” Mathematics confirmed nothing but the order and quality of the phenomena, and the law of their succession. Before Kepler and Newton no mathematics could decide whether the sun revolved around the earth or the earth around the sun. Astronomical phenomena were known, but this knowledge was a knowledge of facts, not of their explanation. The Ptolemaic hypothesis was not inconsistent with the facts then observed, but it was _assumed_, not _verified_. If such a theory had been verified, its truth would be still recognized, and the Copernican theory would have had no chance of admission. But evidently it is not the theory that has been verified, but only the apparent movements of celestial bodies. Thus “the elaborate tables” by which the future positions of the planets could be foretold prove indeed the accuracy of ancient astronomical observations and calculations, but they are no evidence that the geocentric theory was correct.

Mr. Youmans informs us, also, that “Copernicus did not abolish, but rather revised, the old astronomy.” If the words “old astronomy” are taken to express merely the knowledge of celestial phenomena, we have nothing to reply; but if those words be understood to mean the Ptolemaic theory, the assertion is ridiculous. Indeed, Copernicus, as Mr. Youmans says, “simply recentred the solar system”; that is, he simply put the sun, instead of the earth, in the centre of the planetary orbits. Nothing but that. But who does not see that to give a new centre to the solar system was to suppress the old centre, and therefore to _abolish_ the geocentric theory? Why Mr. Youmans should labor to insinuate the contrary we cannot really understand. Dr. Taylor, against whom he writes, had said nothing concerning either the personal views of Copernicus or the old system of astronomy, but had simply maintained that the so-called Copernican theory, as mentioned by Prof. Huxley, and as understood by all—that is, as perfected by Kepler, Newton, and others—stands to-day on such a basis of undeniable facts that we can no longer hesitate about its truth. This statement might have been contradicted two centuries ago; but we fancy that it ought not to give rise to the least controversy on the part of a modern cultivator of science, however much determined to find fault with his opponent.

Dr. Taylor had said, as we have noticed, that the Copernican theory “rests on facts presently occurring before our eyes.” Mr. Youmans answers: “So does the Ptolemaic theory; and not only that, but, if the test is what occurs before our eyes, then the Ptolemaic theory is a thousand times stronger than the Copernican.” If this answer expresses the real opinion of Mr. Youmans, we must conclude that he alone, among physicists, is ignorant of the fact that terrestrial gravitation is modified by the centrifugal force due to the rotation of the earth, and that this fact is established by experiments which “occur before our eyes” when we make use of the pendulum in different latitudes. What shall we say of the aberration of light? Is not this phenomenon a proof of the movement of the earth? Or does it not “occur before our eyes”? Mr. Youmans may say that these facts do not occur before all eyes, but only before the eyes of scientific men. But Dr. Taylor had not maintained that all the facts connected with the Copernican theory occur before all eyes; and, on the other hand, Foucault’s pendulum, even though oscillating before unscientific eyes, makes visible to the dullest observer the shifting of the horizontal plane from its position at a rate proportional to the sine of the latitude of the place, thus showing to the eye the actual movement of our planet. It is true, therefore, that the Copernican theory “rests on facts presently occurring before our eyes.”

But, if the Copernican theory is so obvious, “why,” asks Mr. Youmans, “did the astronomers of twenty centuries fail to discern it? Why could not the divines of Copernicus’ time see it when it was pointed out to them? And why could not Lord Bacon admit it a hundred years after Copernicus?” The _why_ is well known. The Copernican theory was at first nothing more than a hypothesis; and its truth, even after Kepler and Newton, was still in need of experimental confirmation. Had Lord Bacon or the divines of Copernicus’ time seen what we see with our eyes in Foucault’s experiment, there is little doubt that they would have recognized at last the truth of the new theory. But let this suffice about the certitude of the Copernican theory.

The second part of Mr. Youmans’ article regards the theory of evolution. This theory assumes that the immense diversity of living forms now scattered over the earth has arisen from gelatinous matter through a long process of gradual unfolding and derivation within the order of nature (that is, without supernatural interference) and by the operation of natural laws. Mr. Youmans says that this theory “is built upon a series of demonstrated truths.” This assertion would have some weight, if such a building had not been raised in defiance of logic; but we have already shown that Prof. Huxley’s _Three Lectures on Evolution_ teem with fallacies most fatal to the cause he desired to uphold. Hence, while we admit that “demonstrated truth” is a very solid ground to build upon, we maintain that not a single demonstrated truth can be logically alleged in support of the theory of evolution. But let Mr. Youmans speak for himself:

“It is a fact accordant with all observation, and to which there
never has been known a solitary exception, that the succession of
generations of living things upon earth is by reproduction and
genetic connection in the regular order of nature. The stream of
generations flows on by this process, which is as much a part of the
settled, continuous economy of the world as the steady action of
gravity or heat. It is demonstrated that living forms are liable to
variations which accumulate through inheritance; that the ratio of
multiplication in the living world is out of all proportion to the
means of subsistence, so that only comparatively few germs mature,
while myriads are destroyed; that, in the struggles of life, the
fittest to the conditions survive, and those least adapted perish.
It is a demonstrated fact that life has existed on the globe during
periods of time so vast as to be incalculable; that there has been
an order in its succession by which the lowest appeared first, and
the highest have come last, while the intermediate forms disclose a
rising gradation. It is a demonstrated truth of nature that matter
is indestructible, and that, therefore, all the material changes and
transformations of the world consist in using over and over the same
stock of materials, new forms being perpetually derived from old
ones; and it is a fact now also held to be established that force
obeys the same laws. All these great truths harmonize with each
other; they agree with all we know of the constitution of nature;
and they demonstrate evolution as a fact, and go far toward opening
to us the secondary question of its method.”

These are, according to Mr. Youmans, the “demonstrated truths” on which the theory of evolution has been built, and which, according to the same writer, “demonstrate evolution as a fact.” We think, on the contrary, that the only fact demonstrated by this passage is the blindness (voluntary or not) of a certain class of scientists. A cursory examination of it will suffice to convince all unprejudiced men that such is the case.

That the stream of generations flows on “by reproduction and genetic connection in the regular order of nature” is indeed a fact accordant with all observation, and to which there never has been known a solitary exception; but all observation proves that the regular order of nature in generation is confined within the limits of the species to which parents belong. This precludes the possibility of drawing from this fact any conclusion in favor of evolution.

That living forms “are liable to variations, which accumulate through inheritance,” is _not_ a demonstrated fact. We see, on the contrary, that all such accidental variations, instead of accumulating, tend to disappear within a few generations, whenever they cease to be under the influence of the agencies to which they owe their origin. But let us admit, for the sake of argument, that all living forms are liable to variations which accumulate through inheritance; then we ask whether all such variations are confined within the limit of each species, or some of them overstep that limit. If they are confined within that limit, the fact proves nothing in favor of the evolution of species. If, on the contrary, any one says that they overstep that limit, then the fact itself needs demonstration; for it has never been observed. Therefore to argue from this fact in favor of evolution is to beg the question. We have no need of dwelling on Mr. Youmans’ statement that the ratio of multiplication in the living world is out of all proportion to the means of subsistence, so that only comparatively few germs mature, while myriads are destroyed. The statement is true; but it has nothing to do with the theory of evolution. That, in the struggles of life, the fittest to the conditions survive, is another fact which does not in the least bear out the theory. For the fittest among animals are those which enjoy the plenitude of their specific properties, and which, therefore, are best apt to transfuse them into their offspring whole, unmixed, and unimpaired.

We are told, also, that life has existed during periods of time so vast as to be incalculable. This we admit. But then, in the succession of life, there has been an order, “by which the lowest appeared first, and the highest have come last, while intermediate forms disclose a rising gradation.” This, too, we may admit, though not without reservations; for Prof. Huxley himself confesses that numerous intermediate forms do not occur in the order in which they ought to occur if they really had formed steps in the progression from one species to another; for we find these intermediate forms mixed up with the higher and the lower ones “in contemporaneous deposits.” But, even supposing that the lowest forms precede the highest, what evidence would this be in favor of evolution? The order of succession may indeed prove that the lower forms existed before the higher forms were created; but it does not show that the lower forms are the parents of the higher. This is merely assumed by the evolutionists as a convenient substitute for proof; that is, they first assume that evolution is a fact, and then conclude that the fact of evolution is established.

Lastly, that matter is indestructible, and that therefore all the material changes and transformations of the world consist in using over and over the same stock of materials, is a doctrine which has no special bearing on the question. When a new individual of any living species is generated, its organism is indeed formed out of old matter; but this had no need of demonstration. What our evolutionists ought to show is that new individuals of a certain species have been generated by individuals of some other species; and this surely cannot be shown by a recourse to the indestructibility of matter. That matter is indestructible is, however, a groundless assertion. For though natural forces cannot destroy it, God, who has created it, and who keeps it in existence, can always withdraw his action, and let it fall into its primitive nothingness. And as to the so-called “fact” now also held to be established, that “force obeys the same laws”—that is, that force is indestructible, and that new forms of force are perpetually derived from old ones—we need only remark that the theory of transformation of forces, as held and explained by our advanced scientists, is but a travesty of truth, and an impotent effort to upset the principle of causality. Neither statical nor dynamical forces are ever transformed. Indeed, they have no form attached to them. What our modern physicists call “transformation of force” is nothing but the change of one kinetic phenomenon into another—that is, a succession of modes of movement of various kinds. Now, modes of movement are modes of being, not of force, though they are the measure of the dynamical forces by which they have been produced. The force with which any element of matter is endowed is constantly the same, both as to quality and as to quantity. Its exertion alone, owing to a difference of conditions, admits of a higher and a lower degree of intensity. As we do not intend at present to write a treatise on forces, we will only add that the forces of matter are exercised on other matter by transient action, but cannot perform immanent acts calculated to modify their own matter. If they could do this, matter would not be inert. Hence animal life, which requires immanent acts, cannot be accounted for by the forces of matter. And therefore, whatever our scientists may say about the conservation of energy and the transformation of forces, they have no right to infer that animal life can be evolved out of matter alone; and they have still less right to pretend that such is “the fact.”

What shall we say, then, of Mr. Youmans’ assertion that the alleged reasons “demonstrate evolution as a fact”? We must say, applying Dr. Taylor’s words to the case, that the assertion is “so astounding that we can only 'stand by and admire’ the marvellous effrontery with which it has been made.” A man of Mr. Youmans’ ability can scarcely be so ignorant of logic as not to see that his reasons demonstrate evolution neither as a fact nor as a probability, and not even as a possibility; but when a man succeeds in blinding himself to the existence of a personal God, and substitutes nature in the place of her Creator, we need not be surprised if his logic turns out to be a clumsy attempt at imposition.

Dr. Taylor had asked why we do not see one species passing into another, even as we see the motions of the planets through the heavens. The question was pertinent; for Prof. Huxley had maintained that “evolution rests on a basis as sure as astronomy.” Mr. Youmans answers: “To this foolish question, which has nevertheless been asked a dozen times by clerical critics of Huxley, the obvious answer is that what requires a very long time to produce cannot be seen in a very short time.” We think that the question was not _foolish_, and that the answer of Mr. Youmans is a mere evasion. For, if evolution is a fact, we must find numerous traces of it not only in the fossil remains, but also in the actual economy of nature. If the bird is evolved from the lizard, there must be actually among living creatures a numerous class of intermediate forms, some more, others less developed, exhibiting all the stages of transformation through which the lizard is gradually developed into a bird. Thus, because the acorn develops into the stately oak, we find in nature oaks of all the intermediate sizes; and because babyhood develops into manhood, we find in nature individuals of all intermediate ages. In like manner, if the evolution of one species from another is not a fable, we must find in nature specimens of all the intermediate forms. Dr. Taylor’s question was, therefore, most judicious. That Mr. Youmans’ reply to it is a mere evasion a little reflection will show; for the length of time required for the process of transformation would only prove that the intermediate forms must remain longer in existence; whilst the fact is that such forms do not exist at all.

“There has been much complaint,” says Mr. Youmans, “that Prof. Huxley undertook to put the demonstrative evidence of evolution on so narrow a basis as the establishment of the genealogy of the horse; but this rather enhances than detracts from his merit as a scientific thinker.” Here the case is misstated. Had Prof. Huxley really demonstrated evolution by the genealogy of the horse, no one would have complained that the basis was too narrow; but as it became manifest that the basis was not only narrow but questionable, and that it afforded no evidence whatever of evolution, it was thought that it required a “marvellous effrontery” on the part of Prof. Huxley to maintain before the American public that the genealogy of the horse gave “demonstrative evidence” of evolution. This is the reason why there has been so much complaint. Prof. Huxley simply insulted his audience when he asked them to believe that evolution was a demonstrated fact.

Mr. Youmans tells us that the vital point between Prof. Huxley and his antagonists is the question of the validity of the conception of order and uniformity in nature. “Prof. Huxley holds to it as a first principle, a truth demonstrated by all science, and just as fixed in biology as in astronomy. His antagonists hold that the inflexible order of nature may be asserted perhaps in astronomy, but they deny it in biology. They here invoke supernatural intervention.” This statement is utterly false. There is no question about the order and uniformity of nature; and it is not to Prof. Huxley or to modern science that we are indebted for the knowledge of this uniformity either in astronomy or in biology; the world has ever been in possession of this indisputable truth. The real question between Prof. Huxley and his antagonists is that nature, according to the professor, is independent in its being and in its working, and has an inherent power of fostering into existence a series of beings of higher and higher specific perfection, from the speck of gelatinous matter even to man; whereas nature, according to the professor’s antagonists, and according to science, revelation, and common sense, is not independent either in its being or in its working, and has no inherent power of forming either a plant without a seed or an animal without an ovum of the same species. If Prof. Huxley had had any knowledge of that part of philosophy which we call metaphysics, and which our advanced scientists affect so much to despise because they cannot cope with it, he would have seen the absurdity of his assumption; and if Mr. Youmans had consulted the rules of logic, he would not have said that the “uniformity of nature” was with Prof. Huxley a “first principle”; it being evident that uniformity clashes with evolution, which is a change of forms.

The last argument of the editor of the _Popular Science Monthly_ in behalf of evolution is as follows:

“Obviously there are but two hypotheses upon the subject—that of
genetic derivation of existing species through the operation of
natural law, and that of creation by miraculous interference with
the course of nature. If we assume the orderly course of nature,
development is inevitable: it is evolution or nothing. If the order
of nature is put aside and special creation appealed to, we have a
right to ask, On what evidence?... There is no evidence. There is
not a scintilla of proof that can have a feather’s weight with any
scientific mind.... Has anybody ever seen a special creation?”

We answer, first, that even if it were true that “there is no evidence” in support of the _creation_, it would not follow that there is any evidence, either scientific or of any other kind, in support of the _evolution_ of one species from another. Indeed, in spite of all the efforts of “advanced” thinkers, we have not yet been furnished with “a scintilla of proof that can have a feather’s weight” with a philosophical mind; on the contrary, we have been informed by no less an authority than Mr. Huxley that “no connecting link between the crocodile and the lizard, or between the lizard and the snake, or between the snake and the crocodile, or between any two of these groups,” has yet been found—a fact which, if not destroyed by further discoveries, is “a strong and weighty argument against evolution,” as the professor confesses. Hence it is evident that the existing palæontological specimens, far from proving the theory, form a strong and weighty objection against it. The consequence is that, even if we had no evidence of the creation of species, it would yet be more reasonable to accept creation, against which no objection can be found, than to accept evolution.

But we are far from conceding that the creation of species is unsupported by evidence of a proper kind. Mr. Youmans may laugh at the Bible; but we maintain that the Biblical record constitutes historical evidence. He may also laugh at philosophical reasoning, for his mind is too “scientific” to care for philosophy; but we believe that philosophical evidence is as good, at least, as any which can be met with in the _Popular Science Monthly_. Animals have a soul, which elicits immanent acts; they know, they feel, they have passions; and, if we listen to some modern thinkers, they have even intelligence and reason. Now, matter is essentially inert, and therefore cannot elicit immanent acts. Hence animals are not mere organized matter; and accordingly they cannot be evolved from matter alone. Their soul must come from a higher source; it must be created. Science has nothing to say against this; it can only state its ignorance by asking: “Has anybody ever seen a special creation?” Of course nobody has; but there are things which are seen by reason with as great a clearness as anything visible to the eye; and this is just the case with creation. On the other hand, why should Mr. Youmans pretend that creation must be seen to be admitted, when he admits evolution, though he has never seen it? If seeing is a condition for believing, why did he treat as _foolish_ Dr. Taylor’s question concerning the passing of one species into another? Why did he ask: “Has the writer ever seen the production of a geological formation?” Surely, if evolution were proved to be a fact, we would admit it, without having seen it; but, since it is creation, not evolution, that has been shown to be a fact, we are compelled to admit it, even though nobody has had the privilege of seeing the event.

When Mr. Youmans declares that “there is not a scintilla of proof” (in favor of special creations) “that can have a feather’s weight with any scientific mind,” he evidently assumes that no scientific mind has existed before our time; which is more than even Huxley or Darwin would maintain. But infidel science is equally blind to the scientific merit of its antagonists, and to the blunders which it is itself daily committing. Thus Mr. Youmans, no doubt to show that he has a “scientific mind,” speaks of the derivation of species “through the operation of natural law”—a phrase which has no meaning; for law is an abstraction, and abstractions do not operate. Nor is it more “scientific” to assume that the creation of species was “a miraculous interference with the course of nature”; for the course of nature required the creation of species, just as it now requires the creation of human souls for the continuance of humanity; and God cannot be said to have interfered with the course of nature by doing what nature required but could not do. Is it any more “scientific” to write _Nature_ with a capital letter? Of course, if there is no God, nature is all, and atheists may write it _Nature_. Mr. Youmans does not tell us clearly that there is no God; but he shows clearly enough that to his mind _Nature_ is everything; which is, in fact, a virtual denial of a personal God. If we were to inform him that nature is only a servant of God, he would perhaps ask, “On what evidence?” And because we would be unable to point out a chemical residuum or a geologic formation wherein God could be made visible to him, he would conclude that “there is no scintilla of proof that can have a feather’s weight with a scientific mind.” He then assumes that in the orderly course of nature the evolution of species is “inevitable.” It did not occur to his scientific mind that before making such an assertion, it was necessary to examine how far the powers of nature extend; for he might have discovered that matter is inert, and that it was a great blunder to assume that inert matter produced animal life.

He further supposes that when special creations are appealed to, “the order of nature is put aside.” He therefore pretends that the order of nature would not allow of the creation of plants and animals, evidently because it was nature’s duty to perform without extrinsic intervention all those wonderful works which we attribute to the wisdom and omnipotence of the Creator. We maybe unscientific; but we defy Mr. Youmans to show, either scientifically or otherwise, the truth of his assumption. To tell us that the evolution of life from dead matter was within the order of nature, without even attempting to prove that nature had a power adequate to the task, is just as plausible as to tell us that Prof. Huxley has created the Niagara Falls or that Mr. Darwin has painted the moon. And yet the author of such loose statements airs his scientific pretensions and speaks of “scientific minds”!

We have no need to follow Mr. Youmans any further; for what he adds consists of assumptions cognate to those we have already refuted. “Genetic derivation,” he says, “is in the field as a real and undeniable cause”—which is an open untruth. “Has anybody seen a special creation?” This is irrelevant. “Do those who believe in a special creation represent to themselves any possibility of how it could have occurred?” Probably they do, if they have read the first chapter of Genesis. “Milton attempted to form an image of the way the thing was done, and says that the animals burst up full-formed and perfect like plants out of the ground—'the grassy clods now calved.’ But clods can only calve miraculously.” Quite so; but we must not be afraid of miracles, when we cannot deny them without falling into absurdities. “Nature does not bring animals into the world now by this method, and science certainly can know nothing of it.” Yes; but there are many other things of which infidel science is ignorant. And yet we fancy that, when animals have been once created, even infidel science might have discerned that their procreation no longer required “the grassy clods to calve.”

But enough. We conclude that, so far from being possible, so far from being probable, so far from being proved, the hypothesis of the origin of animal forms by evolution is simply unthinkable; it is a violation not only of the order of nature, but of the very condition of thought and of the first principle of science, which is the principle of causality. When will our scientific men understand that there is no science without philosophy?

A WAIF FROM THE GREAT EXHIBITION, PHILADELPHIA, 1876

“Their store-houses full, flowing out of this into that.

“They have called the people happy that hath these things: but happy
is that people whose God is
the Lord.”—Ps. cxliii.

I.

With face storm-lined and bronzed, no longer young,
That seemed as if its soul’s dim life had grown
On lonely farm, in rugged inland town
Lying, a narrow world, bleak hills among,
A stranger gazed amid the wealth and glare
Of all the nations’ gathered industry
Where rose the light, symmetric tracery
Of Munich’s altars worked in colors fair;
Where good St. Joseph with the lilies stood;
And soft-eyed martyr with her branch of palm,
And full, sweet lips smiling with happy calm,
Seemed beaming witness 'mid the multitude
Of glittering toys and earth’s huge, unworked store,
Of nobler purpose man’s life resting o’er.

II.

Here stretched its naked arms the blessèd Rood,
Whose desolation eloquent below
God’s Mother sat in soundless deeps of woe,
Her sad knees holding all her earthly good.
Here stood the stranger with a look intent
Wherein no light of recognition woke,
As if he read in some strange-lettered book.
Then, asking what these unguessed figures meant,
An answer came: “Our Lord, dead 'neath the Cross.”
“Ah! yes, and that is Mary, I suppose—
The Mother.” Ah! what wondering thoughts uprose
To die in silence, winning so some loss,
Perchance, unto two lives. Sweet Mother, pray
That soul accuse not mine on judgment day!

III.

So strange and sad the simple question seemed;
As if on those far hills God’s voice had built,
Upon those souls for whom his blood was spilt
Some shadow rested, amid which scarce gleamed
The mournful splendor by his dark Cross thrown:
As if stern life grew but more hard and bare,
Missing the presence of the Maiden rare
Whose God made her unstained flesh his own;
Who held him on her arms a helpless child,
With love no mother ever knew before;
Holding, when Calvary’s dread hours were o’er,
The Man of Sorrows where her Babe had smiled—
Her arms the cradle of the Almighty One,
Her arms His spotless shroud, life’s labor done.

IV.

Alas! such faith to men denied who grope
Half in a fear begotten not of love,
Half in cold doubt, seeking all things to prove,
To none hold fast, with whom divinest hope
Holds naught more excellent than earth’s to-days;
For whom in vain doth Israel’s lily bloom,
With its white sunshine lighting hours of gloom,
Shining 'mid thorns that seek to crush its grace—
So dimming the broad rays of love divine
With earthly shadow cast on earthly things
That folded keep their gift of heavenly wings,
Lest, soaring, they lose sight of lesser shrine
Lest, heart so kindling with the Spirit’s fire,
Feet lowly tread that eyes be lifted higher.

V.

Slow turning through the glimmering aisles to range,
Amid the hum the loitering footsteps wrought
I lost the questioning face, but not the thought
Of that dim life, to which the night seemed strange
Of Calvary’s God, to whom all life is owed—
That clouded life wherein Faith’s pure sunshine
Casts faintest gleam of its strong light divine
That strengthens soul, makes fair the daily load.
Far down the hall full notes of organ poured,
And broke in song strong voices manifold;
Glad alleluias all exultant rolled,
As if proclaiming on each soaring chord:
“Happy the people of this wealth possessed!”
Nay, Happy they whom God the Lord hath blessed.

ENGLISH RULE IN IRELAND.

II.

The present condition of a people is the latest phase of a life that has run through centuries, in all the events of which there may be traced the relation of cause and effect, and whose continuity has never been interrupted, though at times the current may seem to leave its channel, or even to disappear. The past never dies, but with each succeeding moment receives a fuller existence, survives as a curse or a blessing. The passion which urges the human mind back to ages more and more remote, until the gathering darkness shuts out even the faintest glimmer of light, is not mere curiosity, nor even the inborn craving for knowledge; rather is it the consciousness that those ancient times and far-off deeds still live in us, mould us, and shape our ends. We were with Adam when he plucked and ate the forbidden fruit, and that his act should work in us yet, like a taint in the blood, seems to be a postulate of reason not less than a truth of tradition or revelation. The cherishing of great names, the clinging to noble memories, the use of poetry, music, sculpture, painting, architecture, or any art, to give form and vividness to glories, heroisms, martyrdoms, are but the expression of this consciousness that the present is only the fuller and more living past. No vanity, much less scorn or hate, should prompt any one to lift into the light the glory or the shame of a people’s history. As we tread reverently on the ground where human passions have contended for the mastery, we should approach with religious awe the facts which have made the world what it is.

There are many persons, who certainly have no prejudices against the Irish people, many true and loyal Irishmen even, who strongly object to the prominence given to the sorrows and sufferings of Ireland. They would have us forget the past and turn, with a countenance fresh and hopeful as that of youth, to the future. Sydney Smith, full of English prepossessions but an honest lover of liberty, who labored as earnestly and fearlessly as any man of his generation in behalf of the wronged and defenceless, could not restrain his impatience when he thought of the fondness with which Irishmen cling to old memories and sacred associations. In his opinion the object of all government is roast mutton, potatoes, claret, a stout constable, an honest justice, a clear highway, and a free chapel. “What trash,” he exclaimed, “to be bawling in the streets about the Green Isle, the Isle of the Ocean, the bold anthem of _Erin go bragh_! A far better anthem would be, Erin go bread and cheese, Erin go cabins that will keep out the rain, Erin go pantaloons without holes in them.”

This may be very well, but we are persuaded that there is not an abuse or an evil in Ireland to-day which has not its roots in the remote past, or which can be understood or remedied without a knowledge of Irish history.

The bold anthem of _Erin go bragh_, which so provoked Sidney Smith, is the thread that leads us through the labyrinth. It is because the Irish are not English that England is neither able nor willing to treat them justly; and if she has rendered herself guilty of the greatest social crime in all history, it is because she has clung for centuries with terrible obstinacy to a policy which left the people of Ireland no alternative between denationalization and extermination. When in England the national spirit dominated and absorbed the religious spirit, the Irish, who had so long maintained their separate nationality, adhered with invincible firmness to the old faith. This was imputed to them as a crime, and became the pretext for still more grievous persecutions. If they were resolved to be Irish and Catholic, England was not less resolved that they should be outlaws and beggars. They were to have no bread or potatoes, or cabins that would keep out the rain, so long as they persisted in singing the bold anthem and acknowledging the supremacy of the pope. The history of Ireland is in great part the history of her wrongs; for a long time to come, doubtless, it will be a history of suffering; and if those who write of her find that they are placing before their readers pictures of death, exile, persecution, beggary, famine, desolation, violence, oppression, and of every form of human misery, they are but describing the state to which her conquerors have reduced her.

But there are special reasons for dwelling upon the wrongs of Ireland. For three hundred years the Irish people themselves and their faith have been held responsible, wherever the English language is spoken, for the crimes of England. The backwardness of Irish industry, and the seeming want of energy of the people in improving their condition, are habitually imputed by statesmen and public instructors to a peculiar indolence and recklessness in the Celtic race, fostered and encouraged by what is supposed to be the necessary influence of the Catholic religion.

The Irish are probably not more Celtic than the French, who assuredly are not excelled in thrift and industry by any other people. There is no country more Catholic than Belgium, nor is there anywhere a more prosperous or laborious people. Irishmen themselves, it is universally admitted, are hard workers in England, in the United States, in Canada, in Australia—wherever, in a word, the motives which incite men to labor are not taken from them; and yet the popular prejudice on this subject is so flattering to Anglo-Saxon and Protestant pride that it remains in the public mind like a superstition, which no amount of evidence can affect. In a former article we have attempted to trace some of the causes to which the poverty and misery of Ireland must be attributed, and we shall now continue the investigation. During the three centuries immediately following the Conquest the country was wasted by wars, massacres, and feuds, carried on by the two armed nations, which fiercely contended for the possession of the soil. The Anglo-Norman colony, entrenched within the Pale, and receiving constant supplies of men and money from the mother-country, formed a kind of standing army, ever ready to invade and lay waste the territories still held by the native population. The Irish people, in self-defence, and also with the hope of driving the invader from their shores, turned their whole attention to war. All the pursuits of peace were forgotten, and the island became a camp of soldiers, who, when not battling with the common enemy, turned their swords against one another. In such a state of society no progress was possible. Then came three centuries of religious wars to add more savage fierceness to the war of races. Under Elizabeth, James I., Cromwell, and William of Orange the whole country was confiscated. The Catholics were driven from their lands, hunted down, their churches and monasteries were burned or turned over to Protestants, their priests were martyred or exiled, their schools closed, their teachers banished, their nobles impoverished; and to make this state of things perpetual the Penal Code was enacted. To this point there was complete harmony between the home government and the English colony in Ireland. But England has rarely poured out her treasure or her blood for other than selfish and mercenary motives. She therefore demanded, as the price of her assistance in crushing the Irish Catholics, that the commerce and industry of Ireland should be sacrificed to her own interests. The House of Commons declared the importation of Irish cattle a public nuisance. They were then slaughtered and salted, but the government refused to permit the sale of the meat. The hides were tanned. The importation of leather was forbidden. The Irish Protestants began to export their wool; England refused to buy it. They began to manufacture it; an export duty, equivalent to prohibition, was put on all Irish woollen goods. They grew flax and made linens; England put a bounty on Scotch and English linens, and levied a duty on Irish linens. Ireland was not allowed to build or own a ship—her forests were felled and the timber sent to England. The English colonies were forbidden to trade with her; even the fisheries were carried on with English boats manned by Englishmen. By these and similar measures Irish commerce and industry were destroyed. Nothing remained for the people to do but to till the soil. In this lay the only hope of escaping starvation. But they no longer owned the land; it was in the hands of an alien aristocracy, English in origin and sympathy, Protestant in religion. The Catholic people, without civil existence, were at the mercy of an oligarchy by whom they were both hated and despised. These nobles owed their titles, wealth, and power to the violence of conquest, and, instead of seeking to heal the wounds, they were resolved to keep them open. In France and in England the Northmen were gradually fused with the original population. They lost their language, customs, almost the memory of their cradle-land. Even in Ireland a considerable portion of the Norman conquerors became Irish—_Hibernis hiberniores_. But this partial assimilation of the two races was effected in spite of England, who made use of strong measures both to prevent and punish this degeneracy, as it was termed. Had the union between the Irish and the Normans not been prevented by this violent and interested policy, a homogeneous people would have been formed in Ireland as in England, and the frightful wrongs and crimes of the last seven hundred years would not have been committed.

But the interests of England demanded that Ireland should be kept weak and helpless by internal discord; and she therefore used every means to prevent the fusion of the two races. The “Irish enemy,” ever ready to break in upon the settlements of the Pale, was the surest warrant of the loyalty of the English colony to the mother-country, whose assistance might at any moment become essential to its very existence. The native population, on the other hand, was held in check by the foreigner encamped in the land. Had the Irish and the English in Ireland united, they would have had little trouble in throwing off the yoke of England. It was all-important, therefore, that they should remain, distinct and inimical races. All intercourse between them was forbidden. Their inter-marriage was made high treason. It was a crime for an Englishman to speak Irish, or for an Irishman to speak English. The ancient laws and customs of the Irish were destroyed, and they were denied the benefits of English law. As yet the English and the Irish professed the same religious faith; but now even this powerful bond of union was broken. Enemies on earth, they looked to no common hope beyond this life. Three centuries of persecution and outrage followed, during which the Catholic Irish were reduced to such a state of misery and beggary that the only thing which remained in common between them and their tyrants was hate.

Here we have come upon the well-spring of all the bitter waters that have deluged Ireland. The country is owned and governed by a few men who have never loved the country and have always hated the people. Throughout the rest of Europe, even in the worst times, the interests of the lords and the peasants were to some extent identical. They were one in race and religion, rendered mutual services, gloried in a common country, and shared their miseries. The noble spent at least a part of the year on his estates, surrounded by his dependants. Kind offices were interchanged. The great lady visited the peasant woman in her sickness, and the humanities of life were not ignored. Elsewhere in Europe the great land-owners, whether lay or ecclesiastical, were, with rare exceptions, kind to the poor, indulgent to their debtors, willing to encourage industry, to advance capital for the improvement of the land, and thus to promote their own interests by promoting those of their tenants. The privileged classes were not wholly independent of the people. If they were not restrained from wrong-doing by love, they were often held in check by a salutary fear.