The Religion of Geology and Its Connected Sciences

by Edward Hitchcock

“As a consequence of the refrigeration of the centre and crust of the globe,” says D’Orbigny, “the withdrawment of matter has produced elevations and depressions on the consolidated crust; to which movements, in connection with those of the waters, we must impute the complete destruction of the existing fauna. These dislocations have brought about at each epoch changes of level in the consolidated beds and in the seas. And after a period of agitation, more or less prolonged, after each of these geological revolutions, different beings have been created to cover anew and enliven the surface of the earth.”—Cours Elementaire Paleontologie, p. 148.

All geologists, then, agree that the elements of the earth’s final conflagration are contained within its bosom or upon its surface. At present, these elements are so bound down by counteracting agencies, that all is quiet and security. But let the fiat of the Almighty go forth for their liberation, and the scenes of the last day, as described in the Bible, will commence. The ploughshare of ruin will be driven onward, until this fair world is all ingulfed, and no trace of organic life remains. Yet to him who realizes that the destruction is only a necessary preparation for a brighter world, which will emerge from the ruins of the present; that, when the matter of the globe has been purified, its surface shall be covered with new and lovelier forms of beauty, surrounded by a still more bland and balmy atmosphere, and inhabited by sinless and immortal beings,—to him who realizes all this, the desolation will put on the aspect of a glorious transformation.

In the second place, still deeper will be this impression, when we recollect that similar transmutations have already been experienced by the earth with an improvement of its condition. There is no evidence that the entire surface of the earth has ever undergone a complete fusion since organic life first appeared upon it. But we have reason to think that, frequently, at least, when one race of animals and plants has disappeared from the earth, it has been the result of violent catastrophes, proceeding from the elevation or subsidence of continents or chains of mountains. Says Agassiz, “A very remarkable, and perhaps the most surprising fact is, that the appearance of the chains of mountains, and the inequalities of the surface resulting from it, seem to have coincided generally with the epochs of the renewal of organized beings.”—Ed. Journal of Science, Oct. 1842, p. 394.—These vertical movements of such large portions of the earth’s crust could have resulted only from the direct or indirect agency of volcanic power, though the destruction of organic life, which must have been the consequence, may have resulted as often from aqueous as igneous inundations. But usually both agencies were probably concerned, and the predominance of one or the other of these agencies is of little consequence to the argument; for if such wide-spread ruin has already repeatedly passed over the earth, a still wider desolation may be presumed possible, if only a little wider play shall be given to the agents of destruction. Already have the changes of this sort which the earth, or portions of it, have undergone, resulted in an improved condition of its surface. In other words, at each successive epoch, animals and plants of a higher and more perfect organization have appeared, because the temperature, the air, and the earth’s general condition have been better adapted to their happy existence. The amount of limestone seems to have been constantly increasing, and, as a consequence, the fertility of the soil; probably, also, the amount of carbonic acid has diminished in the atmosphere, as animals with lungs have been multiplied. In short, there is a prodigious increase, among the present inhabitants of the globe, of animals and plants possessing complicated and delicate organization and loftier intellectual powers, over all former conditions of the globe. But we have reason to believe, from the Christian Scriptures, that the next economy of life which shall be placed upon the globe will far transcend all those that have gone before. Every vestige of sin, suffering, decay, and death will disappear. Says the Bible, There shall be no more death, neither sorrow nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain, for the former things are passed away. And there shall in no wise enter it any thing that defileth, neither whatsoever worketh abomination, or maketh a lie. In short, the change is no other than the conversion of this world into heaven. Reasonably, therefore, might we anticipate a most thorough destruction of the present world, to prepare the way for the introduction of such a glorious state. The Scriptures describe that state by the most splendid imagery that can be derived from existing nature. It is represented, figuratively, no doubt, as a splendid city, prepared of God, and let down to the earth. Its twelve foundations are all precious stones, its gates pearls, its wall jasper, and its streets pure gold, as it were, transparent glass. The Lord God Almighty and the Lamb are the temple of that city. Instead of the sun and the moon, the glory of God enlightens it, and the Lamb is the light thereof. From out of their throne proceeds the water of life, clear as crystal, and along its banks grows the tree of life, with its twelve manner of fruits, yielding its fruit every month.

Here, then, we have the most splendid and enchanting objects in nature brought before us as representatives of the new heavens and the new earth. Yet we cannot learn from the Bible, or science, what material dress nature will then put on. We are taught only that it will far exceed, in splendor and perfection, the drapery which she now wears. We may be assured that it will be eminently adapted to a spirit that is henceforth to be perfectly holy, happy, incorruptible, and immortal. Both revelation and geology agree in assuring us that the new earth, which will emerge from the ruins of the present, will be improved in its condition; but the particulars of that condition are not described—probably because we could not, in our present state, understand them.

Such are the views concerning the earth’s future destruction and renovation, which appear to me to be taught by a fair interpretation of Scripture, and which harmonize with the teachings of geology. But we are met here by two formidable difficulties. In the first place, if the present earth is to be burnt up and melted at the last day, it must require thousands of years before another solid crust shall be formed upon its surface, capable of sustaining organic natures which are material. But the Bible represents the righteous, at the day of judgment, as reunited to their bodies, which they left in the grave, and entering at once into their residence upon the new earth. Where, then, can we find the thousands of years which, by this theory, are essential to prepare this residence for their reception? Into what intermediate place, what new Hades, shall they pass, until verdure shall clothe the new earth, and more than the primeval beauty of Eden take the place of the volcanic desolation which must reign over a world just beginning to cool from incandescent heat?

I freely acknowledge that this is a serious objection to my theory; and perhaps it is insuperable, unless we resort to miraculous interference. It were easy to say, that God can, in a moment, convert a globe of fire into a paradise of beauty, and make its landscapes smile with charms transcending the bowers of paradise lost. Indeed, the Scriptures represent the New Jerusalem as prepared by God’s own hands, and let down at once upon the earth to form the metropolitan abode of the righteous.

But, after all, I am unwilling thus to dispose of the difficulty. For it is a clumsy way to meet objections, when we undertake to philosophize upon events, either past, present, or future, to foist in a miracle, in order to eke out our hypothesis. We thus make an image of as incoherent parts as that in Nebuchadnezzar’s dream, and as easily broken in pieces.

There is a second mode by which the difficulty under consideration can be completely obviated, could we only admit the theory on which it rests. Some theological writers have maintained that the day of judgment will occupy a long period,—thousands and tens of thousands of years perhaps,—in order that every individual may experience a literal trial before the universe for all his conduct on earth, so that the conscience of every one in that vast assembly shall approve the final sentence. They appeal to various texts of Scripture, where it is strongly stated that rigid inquisition will be made on that solemn day into the conduct and motives of every individual. And it may be, indeed, that such descriptions are to have a literal fulfilment; and if so, we should have a period long enough for the new earth to be recovered by natural means from its volcanic desolation, and to be covered over with new forms of beauty. But I confess the theory of such a long period of judgment does not seem to me to be sustained by the most approved rules of exegesis, and therefore I am unwilling to rest upon it to sustain my own hypothesis.

But is it not possible that our difficulty of conceiving how the spiritual body can enter at once upon its residence in the new heavens and earth, while yet the globe is only a shoreless ocean of fire, results from a mistaken conception of the nature of the spiritual body? Do we not judge of it by our own present bodies, and imagine that it must necessarily possess such an organization as would be destroyed by the extremes of heat and cold? And are we authorized to draw such an inference? The Scriptures have, indeed, left us very much in the dark as to the specific nature of the future glorified body, which Paul calls a spiritual body. He does not mean that it is composed of spirit, for then it would not differ from the soul itself, by which it is to be animated. He certainly means that it is composed of matter; unless, indeed, there be in the universe a third substance, distinct both from matter and spirit. But of the existence of such a substance we have no positive evidence; and, therefore, must conclude the spiritual body to be matter; called spiritual, probably, because eminently adapted to form the immortal residence of pure spirit.

Yet we learn from the apostle’s description that it is not composed of flesh and blood, which, he says, cannot inherit the kingdom of God; neither is it capable of decay, like our present bodies. Indeed, the illustration which he derives from the decay and germination of a kernel of wheat shows us that the future body will be as much unlike the present as a stalk of wheat is different from the seed whence it sprang; and, in appearance, scarcely any two things are more unlike. Hence we may suppose the resurrection body of the righteous to be as different from that which the soul now animates as matter can be, in its most diverse forms.