From what has been thus far said, it is evident that there exists a dividing line between the intellect and sensation; that the one is in no sense contained in the other, and cannot by any process be derived from it. Darwin is a mere sensist. He understands little of the nature and faculties of the human soul. He ignores any essential distinction between the intellect and sensation.
There is, indeed, it may be observed, a close connection between the two. Sensation is the condition of the exercise of the intellect while we are in this life. It supplies food for the intelligence. It always precedes and accompanies the intellectual act. Thus, when we think of God’s mercy, we easily imagine God as a kind father, etc.
But such is the case only in human intelligence. We have a spirit in a material and sensible body. Our intellect, by its substantial union with the body, is bound to adapt its exercises to the conditions imposed by this union. But unless we deny all revelation, we must admit the existence of celestial spirits who are not possessed of and encumbered by any body. These, then, need no visible organs, no external sensation, no sensible representation, to arouse and excite their intellect to action. Hence, it follows that the connection existing between sensation and intelligence is not essential.
We shall now examine some other acts of the intellect, to confirm what we have said. Judgment is one of the principal acts of the mind. It is defined: “The perception and affirmation of the identity or diversity of two ideas or propositions obtained by comparing them.”[180] Thus, in the proposition, “Man is mortal,” the mind compares the ideas man and “mortal,” and affirms their identity. The sensation, however, is an isolated impression on the mind, a single fact. Another feature of human actions is the purpose or end for which a thing is done. The dog may do things that have great similarity to human actions; but close observation will easily convince one that the brute does so in a uniform manner, and consequently is impelled by natural instinct. Man, however, sits down and deliberates. He proposes some object to be accomplished, and carefully selects the means best calculated to attain that end. He changes his means at will, according to the circumstances of the case. Does any animal, even be it Darwin’s darling monkey, do anything of the kind? Moreover, the end or purpose may be inherent in the act itself; thus, the sun gives heat and light. An end, however, may not arise essentially out of the nature of things, but may be freely intended; thus, man chooses different objects, while animals necessarily perform them. Again, man observes order in his actions. Order is defined: “A proper disposition of things, giving to each its place”;[181] or, “A composition, and arranging things according to their proper place.”[182] This arrangement may be made either in relation to the matter, or time, or the object. Now, do we ever behold animals displaying order in their actions? Has even Darwin ever seen a monkey arranging books in a library in such a manner as to place alongside each other those relating to one subject? We doubt it. We conclude this review by summing up, in Darwin’s words, the principles by which he contends that all our ideas are acquired. The first is the principle of serviceable associated habits. According to it, we gradually acquire all those habits, ideas, and expressions that conduce to our interest or gratification. The second is that of antithesis—that is, when something offered to our interest occurs, we adopt contrary actions and ideas. The third is styled by Darwin the principle of actions due to the constitution of the nervous system, independently, from the first, of the will, and independently, to a certain extent, of habit. This last principle is simply what is commonly called instinct. No one denies that it causes many actions pertaining to our welfare; but no man of sound mind will derive from it intelligence. The first and second principles can be reduced to that of utilitarianism. In plain language, it amounts to this: if all the actions, thoughts, and desires of man are regulated merely in accordance with each one’s private gratification, there would be no such thing as being concerned about the welfare of others. We finish by recalling the fundamental idea underlying this work. There are, Darwin tells us, striking similarities between the external expressions exhibited by man and the animal. These cannot be explained except on the supposition that the former descends by a long and slow process of generation from the latter. This is styled natural evolution.
There is, we admit, a germ of truth in the theory of evolution. The mistake is in applying it without limit. The Catholic Church teaches, 1. that the soul of man is immediately created by God. 2. That the human body also was created in like manner. This latter, however, is not so explicitly defined as the former. 3. It is a commonly received opinion of theologians that all the principal species of the animal were created directly by God. 4. That, however, imperfect species, such as hybrids and those generated by corruption, perspiration—e.g., fleas—were created only in germ, or potentiali modo.
From this, it is not difficult to see how far a Catholic may accept the theory of evolution. Scientists should not forget that reason is the handmaid of revelation.
[GRAPES AND THORNS.]
BY THE AUTHOR OF THE “HOUSE OF YORKE.”