—Metastasio.
We have dwelt longer than we intended on this subject, which is, after all, only a digression from the principal question; yet Dr. Draper furnishes us with the opportunity of a further remark, which we think we ought not to omit. He says: “The Reformation came. It did not much change the matter. It insisted on the Mosaic views, and would tolerate no natural science that did not accord with them.” On this fact we argue as follows. If the reason why Catholics rejected certain theories was that they were “under a reign of terror,” and that their thought had been “forcibly subjugated,” it would seem that the Protestants, whose thought could not be subjugated, who laughed at the Inquisition and were inaccessible to terror, should have embraced those long-forbidden theories, were it only for showing to the world that they had broken all their chains and recovered unbounded liberty. What could prevent them from throwing away the book of Genesis and reviving the Arabian theory of evolution? Had they not rejected other parts of the Bible? Had they not freed themselves from the confession of sins, explained away the Real Presence, set at naught authority, and inaugurated free-thought? The truth is that they could not resuscitate a theory for which they could not account either by science or by philosophy, and which would have involved them in endless difficulties. It is common sense, therefore, and not reverence for the Mosaic views, that compelled them to abide by the Biblical record of creation. The consequence is that men of common sense had no need of being “forcibly subjugated” to the Mosaic views, and that the Inquisition had nothing to do with the matter. Hence Dr. Draper’s declamation against the Inquisition was entirely out of place in a lecture on evolution. But his bias against the church led him still further. He wanted to denounce also the Congregation of the Index; and as he knew of no book on evolution condemned by it, he charged it with having condemned the works of Copernicus and Kepler. The reader may ask what these two great men have done for the theory of evolution. The lecturer answers that “the starting-point in the theory of evolution” among Christians “was the publication by Copernicus of the book De Revolutionibus Orbium Cœlestium.” At this we are tempted to smile; but he continues:
“His work was followed by Kepler’s great discovery of the three laws that bear his name.... It was very plain that the tendency of Kepler’s discovery was to confirm the dominating influence of law in the solar system.... It was, therefore, adverse to the Italian theological views and to the current religious practices. Kepler had published an epitome of the Copernican theory. This, as also the book itself of Copernicus, was placed in the Index and forbidden to be read.”
It is evident that these statements and remarks have nothing to do with the subject of evolution, and that they have been introduced into the lecture for the mere purpose of slandering “the Italian theological views” which were the views of the whole Christian world, and of decrying the Congregation of the Index, which opposed as dangerous the spreading of an opinion that was at that time a mere guess, and was universally contradicted by the men of science. Dr. Draper ignores altogether this last circumstance, and remarks that “after the invention of printing the Index Expurgatorius of prohibited books had become essentially necessary to the religious reign of terror, and for the stifling of the intellectual development of man. The papal government, accordingly, established the Congregation of the Index.” It is a great pity that we have no room here for instituting a comparison between the intellectual development of the Catholic and of the Protestant or the infidel mind. Such a comparison would show whether the Index Expurgatorius has stifled our intellectual development as much as Protestant inconsistency, and the anarchy of thought which followed, have stifled that of other people. We are still able, after all, to fight our intellectual battles and to beat our adversaries with good arguments, whereas they are sinking every day deeper into scepticism, and know of no better weapons than arbitrary assumption, flippancy, and misrepresentation.
The lecturer goes on to say that Newton’s book substituted mechanical force for the finger of Providence; and thus “the reign of law, that great essential to the theory of evolution, was solidly established.” This sentence contains three errors. The first is that the Newtonian theory of mechanical force suppresses Providence. The second is that the reign of law was not solidly established before the publication of Newton’s work. The third is that the establishment of the law of mechanical forces lends support to the theory of evolution. Is this the result of “intellectual development,” as understood by Dr. Draper? Newton, whose intellect was undoubtedly more developed than that of the lecturer, did not substitute mechanical force for the finger of Providence, but continued to acknowledge the finger of Providence as the indispensable foundation of his scientific theory. Nor did he imagine that his theory was calculated to establish the reign of law. The reign of law was already perfectly established, so much so that it was on this very ground that Newton based his deductions. Finally, neither Newton, nor any really “developed intellect,” ever confounded the mechanical with the vital forces so as to argue from the law of gravitation to the law of animal propagation. From this we can form an estimate of the intellectual development of man by free-thought. The lecturer blunders in philosophy by contrasting law against Providence; he blunders in history by attributing to Newton the discovery of the reign of law; and he blunders in logic by tracing the theory of evolution to a mere law of mechanics.
Further on Dr. Draper gives a sketch of Lamarck’s theory. Lamarck was Darwin’s precursor. He advocated the doctrine of descent. According to him, organic forms originated by spontaneous generation, the simplest coming first, and the complex being evolved from them.
“So far from meeting with acceptance,” says Dr. Draper, “the ideas of Lamarck brought upon him ridicule and obloquy. He was as much misrepresented as in former days the Arabian nature-philosophers had been. The great influence of Cuvier, who had made himself a champion of the doctrine of permanence of species, caused Lamarck’s views to be silently ignored or, if by chance they were referred to, denounced. They were condemned as morally reprehensible and theologically dangerous.”
The fact is, however, that there had been no necessity of “misrepresenting” Lamarck’s ideas, and that his infant Darwinism was condemned not only as morally reprehensible and theologically dangerous, but also as scientifically false. Cuvier had certainly the greatest influence on the views regarding this branch of knowledge; but his influence was not the result of a Masonic conspiracy, as is the case with certain modern celebrities, but the honest result of deep knowledge and strict reasoning; for men were not yet accustomed to believe without proofs, and scientists had not yet forgotten philosophy.
Dr. Draper tells his audience that Geoffroy St. Hilaire “became the opponent of Cuvier, and did very much to break down the influence of that zoölogist.” Yes; but did he succeed in his effort? Did he destroy the peremptory arguments of the great zoölogist? Did he convince the scientific world, or make even a score of converts? No. The influence of Cuvier remained unimpaired, and evolution did not advance a step. Then Mr. Darwin came. Mr. Darwin is, we have reason to believe, the mouthpiece or chief trumpeter of that infidel clique whose well-known object is to do away with all idea of a God. Owing to this circumstance, he was sure to have followers. A few professors in Germany, and a few others in England, proclaimed with boldness the new theory; they wrote articles, delivered lectures, printed pamphlets in his honor; his works were widely advertised and strongly recommended; and the curiosity of the public, which had been raised by all these means, was carefully entertained by the scientific press. People read Darwin and smiled; read Wallace, the friend of Darwin, and were not converted; read Huxley, the great Darwinian oracle, and remained obdurate. Only two classes of men took to the new theory—professors of unbelief and simpletons. Thus Darwinism in Europe, in spite of the great efforts of its friends, has been a failure. Here in America the same means have been employed with the same effect. No sooner was anything published in England or Germany in support of the new theory than some worthy associate of the European infidels republished it for the American people. New original articles were also added by some of our professors; and even Mr. Huxley did not disdain to devote his versatile eloquence to the enlightenment of our free but benighted citizens concerning the subject of evolution. What has been the result? Are the American people converted to the new doctrine? No. They laugh at it. The failure of Darwinism is as conspicuous and as complete in America as it has been in Europe.
Has Dr. Draper, after all, converted any of the Unitarian ministers who attended his lecture? We think not; and the lecturer himself seems to have felt that his words fell on sceptical ears and failed to work on the brains or touch the hearts of his hearers. Towards the end of his lecture he exclaims: “My friends, let me plead with you. Don’t reject the theory of evolution!” It is manifest from this exhortation that the audience, in the opinion of the lecturer himself, was still reluctant to accept the theory. Had the lecturer thought otherwise, he would have said: “My friends, I need not plead with you. You have heard my arguments. I leave it to you to decide whether the theory of evolution can be rejected by intelligent men.” This language would have shown the earnest conviction of the lecturer that he was right, and that his reasonings were duly appreciated and approved. But to say, “Don’t reject the theory,” is to acknowledge that the arguments had not commanded the assent of the intellect, and that no other resource remained than a warm appeal to the good-will of the hearers. Such an appeal, in a scientific lecture, may seem out of place; but it is instructive, for it leads us to the conclusion that even Dr. Draper was convinced of the futility of his attempt.