Now, evolution is no new thing, but an old familiar truth; but, coming now in a new and questionable shape, lo, how it startles us out of our propriety! Origin of forms by evolution is going on everywhere about us, both in the inorganic and the organic world. In its more familiar forms, it had never occurred to most of us that it was a scientific refutation of the existence of God, that it was a demonstration of materialism. But now it is pushed one step farther in the direction it has always been going—it is made to include also the origin of species—only a little change in its form, and lo, how we start! To the deep thinker, now and always, there is and has been the alternative—materialism or theism. God operates Nature or Nature operates itself; but evolution puts no new phase on this old question. For example, the origin of the individual by evolution. Everybody knows that every one of us individually became what we now are by a slow process of evolution from a microscopic spherule of protoplasm, and yet this did not interfere with the idea of God as our individual maker. Why, then, should the discovery that the species (or first individuals of each kind) originated by evolution destroy our belief in God as the creator of species?
3. It is curious and very interesting to observe the manner in which vexed questions are always finally settled, if settled at all. All vexed questions—i. e., questions which have tasked the powers of the greatest minds age after age—are such only because there is a real truth on both sides. Pure, unmixed error does not live to plague us long. Error, when it continues to live, does so by virtue of a germ of truth contained. Great questions, therefore, continue to be argued pro and con from age to age, because each side is in a sense—i. e., from its own point of view—true, but wrong in excluding the other point of view; and a true solution, a true rational philosophy, will always be found in a view which combines and reconciles the two partial, mutually excluding views, showing in what they are true and in what they are false—explaining their differences by transcending them. This is so universal and far-reaching a principle that I am sure I will be pardoned for illustrating it in the homeliest and tritest fashion. I will do so by means of the shield with the diverse sides, giving the story and construing it, however, in my own way. There is, apparently, no limit to the amount of rich marrow of truth that may be extracted from these dry bones of popular proverbs and fables by patient turning and gnawing.
We all remember, then, the famous dispute concerning the shield, with its sides of different colors, which we shall here call white and black. We all remember how, after vain attempts to discover the truth by dispute, it was agreed to try the scientific method of investigation. We all remember the surprising result. Both parties to the dispute were right and both were wrong. Each was right from his point of view, but wrong in excluding the other point of view. Each was right in what he asserted, and each wrong in what he denied. And the complete truth was the combination of the partial truths and the elimination of the partial errors. But we must not make the mistake of supposing that truth consists in compromise. There is an old adage that truth lies in the middle between antagonistic extremes. But it seems to us that this is the place of safety, not of truth. This is the favorite adage, therefore, of the timid man, the time-server, the fence-man, not the truth-seeker. Suppose there had been on the occasion mentioned above one of these fence-philosophers. He would have said: “These disputants are equally intelligent and equally valiant. One side says the shield is white, the other that it is black, now truth lies in the middle; therefore, I conclude the shield is gray or neutral tint, or a sort of pepper-and-salt.” Do we not see that he is the only man who has no truth in him? No; truth is no heterogeneous mixture of opposite extremes, but a stereoscopic combination of two surface views into one solid reality.
Now, the same is true of all vexed questions, and I have given this trite fable again only to apply it to the case in hand.
There are three possible views concerning the origin of organic forms whether individual or specific. Two of these are opposite and mutually excluding; the third combining and reconciling. For example, take the individual. There are three theories concerning the origin of the individual. The first is that of the pious child who thinks that he was made very much as he himself makes his dirt-pies; the second is that of the street-gamin, or of Topsy, who says: “I was not made at all, I growed”; the third is that of most intelligent Christians—i. e., that we were made by a process of evolution. Observe that this latter combines and reconciles the other two, and is thus the more rational and philosophical. Now, there are also three exactly corresponding theories concerning the origin of species. The first is that of many pious persons and many intelligent clergymen, who say that species were made at once by the Divine hand without natural process. The second is that of the materialists, who say that species were not made at all, they were derived, “they growed.” The third is that of the theistic evolutionists, who think that they were created by a process of evolution—who believe that making is not inconsistent with growing. The one asserts the divine agency, but denies natural process; the second asserts the natural process, but denies divine agency; the third asserts divine agency by natural process. Of the first two, observe, both are right and both wrong; each view is right in what it asserts, and wrong in what it denies—each is right from its own point of view, but wrong in excluding the other point of view. The third is the only true rational solution, for it includes, combines, and reconciles the other two; showing wherein each is right and wherein wrong. It is the combination of the two partial truths, and the elimination of the partial errors. But let us not fail to do perfect justice. The first two views of origin, whether of the individual or of the species, are indeed both partly wrong as well as partly right; but the view of the pious child and of the Christian contains by far the more essential truth. Of the two sides of the shield, theirs is at least the whiter and more beautiful.
But, alas! the great bar to a speedy settlement of this question and the adoption of a rational philosophy is not in the head but in the heart—is not in the reason but in pride of opinion, self-conceit, dogmatism. The rarest of all gifts is a truly tolerant, rational spirit. In all our gettings let us strive to get this, for it alone is true wisdom. But we must not imagine that all the dogmatism is on one side, and that the theological. Many seem to think that theology has a “pre-emptive right” to dogmatism. If so, then modern materialistic science has “jumped the claim.” Dogmatism has its roots deep-bedded in the human heart. It showed itself first in the domain of theology, because there was the seat of power. In modern times it has gone over to the side of science, because here now is the place of power and fashion. There are two dogmatisms, both equally opposed to the true rational spirit, viz., the old theological and the new scientific. The old clings fondly to old things, only because they are old; the new grasps eagerly after new things, only because they are new. True wisdom and true philosophy, on the contrary, tries all things both old and new, and holds fast only to that which is good and true. The new dogmatism taunts the old for credulity and superstition; the old reproaches the new for levity and skepticism. But true wisdom perceives that they are both equally credulous and equally skeptical. The old is credulous of old ideas and skeptical of new; the new is skeptical of old ideas and credulous of new. Both deserve the unsparing rebuke of all right-minded men. The appropriate rebuke for the old dogmatism has been already put in the mouth of Job in the form of a bitter sneer: “No doubt ye are the people, and wisdom shall die with you.” The appropriate rebuke for the new dogmatism, though not put into the mouth of any ancient prophet, ought to be uttered—I will undertake to utter it here. I would say to these modern materialists, “No doubt ye are the men, and wisdom and true philosophy were born with you.”
Let it be observed that we are not here touching the general question of the personal agency of God in operating Nature. This we shall take up hereafter. All that we wish to insist on now is that the process and the law of evolution does not differ in its relation to materialism from all other processes and laws of Nature. If the sustentation of the universe by the law of gravitation does not disturb our belief in God as the sustainer of the universe, there is no reason why the origin of the universe by the law of evolution should disturb our faith in God as the creator of the universe. If the law of gravitation be regarded as the Divine mode of sustentation, there is no reason why we should not regard the law of evolution as the Divine process of creation. It is evident that if evolution be materialism, then is gravitation also materialism; then is every law of Nature and all science materialism. If there be any difference at all, it consists only in this: that, as already said, here is the last line of defense of the supporters of supernaturalism in the realm of Nature. But being the last line of defense—the last ditch—it is evident that a yielding here implies not a mere shifting of line, but a change of base; not a readjustment of details only, but a reconstruction of Christian theology. This, I believe, is indeed necessary. There can be little doubt in the mind of the thoughtful observer that we are even now on the eve of the greatest change in traditional views that has taken place since the birth of Christianity. But let no one be greatly disturbed thereby. For as then, so now, change comes not to destroy but to fulfill all our dearest hopes and aspirations; as then, so now, the germ of living truth has, in the course of ages, become so encrusted with meaningless traditions which stifle its growth, that it is necessary to break the shell to set it free; as then, so now, it has become necessary to purge religious belief of dross in the form of trivialities and superstitions. This has ever been and ever will be the function of science. The essentials of religious faith it does not, it can not, touch, but it purifies and ennobles our conceptions of Deity, and thus elevates the whole plane of religious thought.
It will not, of course, be expected of me to give, even in briefest outline, a system of reconstructed Christian thought. Such an attempt would be wholly unbecoming. Time, very much time, and the co-operation of many minds, bringing contributions from many departments of thought, is necessary for this. In a word, it can only itself come by a gradual process of evolution. But from the point of view of science some very fundamental changes in traditional views are already plain. Of these the most fundamental and important are our ideas concerning God, Nature, and man in their relations to one another. These will form the subject of the next three chapters.