The principal points on which there is a supposed discrepancy between the Mosaic Record and the discoveries of geologists are as follows:—
I. That the world in all its completeness, as it now exists, was moulded out of material in a chaotic state in six ordinary days. Geologists have ascertained, beyond the possibility of a doubt, that the process must have occupied countless ages.
II. That the first appearance of animal life was on the fifth of those six days. Geologists have discovered that animal life was in existence at the very earliest period to which they have as yet been able to extend their investigations.
III. That all living creatures are divided into two classes, and that the first of these classes was created on the fifth, the second on the sixth day; and that each class, in all its divisions, with the exception of man, came into existence simultaneously. Geologists trace the rise and increase of each class through a long course of ages.
IV. That death entered into the world through the sin of man. The very existence of fossils implies that it was the law of all animal life from the first.
V. That till the fall all creatures lived exclusively on vegetable food. Geologists have ascertained the existence of carnivorous creatures from a very remote period.
Besides these, there are some other supposed difficulties and inaccuracies of a less important character, which may be noticed, in passing, when the true meaning of the record is under discussion.
The question of the days is beyond all doubt the most important of those which have to be discussed. On the one hand, the impression naturally left upon the reader of the first chapter of Genesis is that natural days are meant, and this impression is not removed by a cursory inspection of the original. On the other hand, if there is any one scientific belief which rests on peculiarly solid ground, it is the belief that the formation of the world occupied a period which is beyond the grasp of the most powerful imagination.
There is, indeed, some reason to think that the time claimed by geologists is somewhat exaggerated. Their views are in many cases based on the assumption that change is now going on, on the surface of the earth, as it did in all past time—that it is the same in character, in intensity, and in rate. But there are good reasons for supposing that almost all the causes which lead to change are gradually decreasing in intensity. The chief causes by which changes are brought about are the upheaval and subsidence of the earth's surface; the destructive agencies of wind, storms at sea, rain and frost; and the action of the tides. Of these, all but the last are directly dependent on the action of heat, and there is every reason to believe that the heat of the earth is in process of gradual dissipation. If this be the case, all those agencies which are dependent on it must
[Footnote: It is thought probable that this process is complete, or nearly so, in the moon. If this be the case, it is in all probability in progress in the case of the earth, though, owing to the much greater bulk of the latter, it occupies a longer period. —Lockyer, Lessons in Astronomy, p. 93.] be declining in intensity; but the rate of that decrease is unknown; it may be in arithmetical, or it may be in geometrical progression. It is, then, by no means impossible that changes, which now only become discernible with the lapse of centuries, might, at some past period of our globe's history, have been the work of years only. Nor is it at all probable that the present rate of change, which is assumed as the basis of the calculation, is known with any approach to accuracy. Exact observations are of very recent date; both the inclination and the means for making them are the growth of the last two centuries, and the changes which have to be ascertained are of a class peculiarly liable to modification from a variety of local and temporary causes, so that a very much longer period must elapse before we can arrive at average values which may be relied on as even approximately accurate.
Another circumstance, which seems to merit more attention than it has received, is the very frequent recurrence in Greek mythology of allusions to creatures which have been usually regarded as the creations of a poetic fancy, but which bear a strong resemblance to the Saurian and other monsters of the Oolite and Cretaceous formations. Of course, it is not impossible that these things may have been purely poetic imaginings; but, if so, it is very remarkable that such realizations of those imaginings should be afterwards discovered. It would seem much more probable that these legends were exaggerated traditions of creatures which actually existed when the first colonists reached their new homes, in numbers comparatively small, but still sufficient to occasion much danger and alarm to the early settlers, and to cause their destroyers to be regarded as among the greatest heroes of the time and the greatest benefactors of mankind. The Hindoo tradition of the tortoise on whose back stands the elephant which upholds the world, and the account of Leviathan in the Book of Job, seem to point in the same direction. [Footnote: For additional instances see Tylor's Early History of Mankind, p. 303.]
But, after all, the question is not one of a few thousands of years more or less, but of six common days, or many thousands of years. It may help us to arrive at a right conclusion on the subject if we endeavour to ascertain, in the first instance, whether there are any strongly-marked indications that the writer of the first chapter of Genesis did possess some accurate information on some points in the history of Creation which he was not likely to obtain by his own researches. For this purpose we will place in parallel columns the leading facts recorded by Moses, and a table of the successive formations of the rocks, abridged from the last edition (1871) of Sir C. Lyell's Student's Geology. This process will bring to light certain coincidences which may serve as landmarks for our investigation.
The Days. THE ROCKS.
1. Creation of light.
2. Creation of the Atmosphere.
|The earth covered with water |Laurentian.3.—| [implied]. |Cambrian.|Upheaval of land. ——|Silurian.|Creation of terrestrial Flora. |Devonian.|Carboniferous.
4. The sun and moon made "Luminaries."——|Permian.|Triassic.
|Triassic.5. Creation of birds and reptiles ——|Jurassic.|Cretaceous,|Eocene.
6.—|Creation of land animals. ——|Eocene.|Creation of man. |Miocene.|Pleiocene.|Post Tertiary.
Laurentian: Upper Laurentian unconformably placed on LowerLaurentian, which contains Eozoon Canadense.
Cambrian: Traces of volcanic action. Ripple marks indicating land.
Silurian: Earliest fish.
Devonian: Earliest land plants.
Carboniferous: The coal measures. Peculiarly abundant vegetation.Earliest known reptile.
Permian: Foot-prints of birds and reptiles—with a few remains of the latter.
Jurassic: The first bird, and the first mammal. The age of reptiles.
Cretaceous: Reptiles passing away, mammalia abundant and of large size.
Post Tertiary: Human remains found only in the most recent deposits. In this table we see certain points of strongly-marked coincidence:—
1. The oldest rocks with which we are acquainted—the Lower Laurentian [Footnote: The age of granite is uncertain.—Lyell'a Student's Geology, p. 548.]—were formed under water, but had begun to be elevated before the next series, the Upper Laurentian, were deposited. Ripple marks are found in the Cambrian group [Footnote: Ibid. p. 470], indicating that the parts where they occur formed a sea-beach, and, consequently, that dry land was in existence at that time.
2. The earliest fossil land plants as yet discovered are found in the Devonian series, and they gradually increase till, in the Carboniferous strata, they attain the extreme abundance which gave rise to the coal measures.
3. The age of reptiles. The earliest known reptile is found in the Carboniferous strata. In the Permian and Triassic groups the numbers gradually increase, till in the Lias, Oolite, and Cretaceous systems, this class attains a very great development both numerically and in the magnitude of individual specimens. During the same period the first traces of birds are found. The first actual fossil bird was found in the upper Oolite.
4. The age of mammalia. The first remains—two teeth of a small marsupial—were discovered in the Rhaetic beds of the Upper Trias, and a somewhat similar discovery has been made in beds of corresponding periods in Devonshire and North America. During the subsequent periods the numbers slowly increase, till in the Tertiary strata the mammalian becomes the predominant type.
5. The earliest traces of man—flint implements—are found in the Post Tertiary strata.
We have then in the Mosaic narrative five points which correspond in order and character to five points in the Geological record; and with reference to two, at least, of these points, we cannot imagine any cause for the coincidence in the shape of a fortunate conjecture, because, so far as we can tell, there was nothing apparent on the face of the earth to suggest to the mind of the writer the long past existence of such a state of things as has been revealed to us by the discovery of the Carboniferous and Reptilian remains. It seems then that Moses must have been in possession of information which could not be obtained from any ordinary source. But if he was thus acquainted with the order in which the development took place, there is nothing improbable in the supposition that he was not altogether ignorant of the length of time which that development required.
Let us suppose then that his knowledge did extend a little farther; let us suppose him to have been aware that each of the Creations which he describes was a process occupying many thousands of years—how could he have imparted this knowledge to his readers? What modification could he have introduced into his narrative, which without changing its general character, or detracting from its extreme simplicity, should have embodied this fact?
This amounts to the question: What words significant of definite periods of time were in use, and consequently at the writer's command, at this time? No language is very rich in such words; but in the early Hebrew they seem to have been very scanty. The day, week, month, year, and generation (this last usually implying the time from the birth of a man to that of his son, but possibly in Gen. xv. 16, a century) are all that we find. These in their literal sense were evidently inadequate. Nor could the deficiency be supplied by numerals, even if the general style of the narrative would have admitted their use, for we find in Genesis no numeral beyond the thousand. There was no word at all in early Hebrew equivalent to our words "period" and "season." When such an idea was to be expressed, it was done by the use of the word "day," either in the singular, or more commonly in the plural. Thus, "the time of harvest;" "the season of the first ripe fruit," are literally "the days of harvest," "the days of the first ripe fruit." In Isaiah xxxiv. 8, the singular is used, and followed by the word year in the same indefinite sense. "It is the day of the Lord's vengeance, and the year of recompenses for the controversy of Zion."
The only method then which was open to the writer was to make use of one of the words above mentioned in an extended sense, just as he used the word [Hebrew script] (earth) in several senses. But if one of them was to be employed, the one which he has chosen seems the best; not only because its use in that way was common, but because the brevity of the time covered by its natural significance would in itself be a hint of the way in which it was used. That which was impossible in a day might be possible in a year or a generation. The extended significance of the word would become apparent just in proportion as the time covered by its natural significance was inadequate for the processes ascribed to it.
An additional reason may, perhaps, be found for the choice of the word "day," in the accordance of its phenomena with some, at least, of the processes which Moses describes—the dawn, the light slowly increasing to the perfect day, and then fading away gradually into night—these do seem aptly to represent the first scanty appearance, the gradual increase, and the vast development of plants, of the reptiles and of the mammalia, and in the case of the first two classes, their gradual passing away.
But if the word was thus employed in a figurative, and not in its natural sense, we may expect to find some indications in the context that this was the case. Such indications we do find. The fact that the work of Creation was distributed into days, is, in itself, significant. There is no reason to believe that in the opinion of the writer each day's work tasked to the utmost the power of the Creator. Moses was evidently as well aware as we are, that to Him it would have been equally easy, had He so willed, to call everything into instant and perfect being at a single word. Nor was the detailed description necessary to establish the foundation of all religion—the right of the Creator to the entire obedience of His creature For this the short recapitulation which (ch. ii. 4) prefaces the more detailed account of man's peculiar relation to his Maker would have been sufficient. Some purpose, however, there must have been for this more particular account which precedes the summary. We may trace two probable reasons. It brings before us the method of the Divine Working in the light of an orderly progress. But beside this, it is of infinite service to us, in enabling us more thoroughly to realize the Fatherly character and ever watchful care of our Creator. As far as that care itself was concerned, it was unimportant whether the work was instantaneous or progressive; but it was very important to us, in so far as it affected our conceptions of God, and of our relations to Him. For all our conceptions of God must rest ultimately on our self-consciousness; we can form no idea of Him except in so far as that idea is analogous to something which comes within the range of our own experience. Now to us and to our feelings there is a very wide difference between an act performed in a moment, and a work over which we have lovingly dwelt, and to which we have devoted our time, our labour, and our thought, for months or years. The one may pass from our mind and be forgotten as quickly as it was performed, but in the other we commonly feel an abiding interest. When therefore the great Creator is represented to us as thus dwelling upon His work, carrying it on step by step, through the long ages, to its completion, we find it far less difficult to realize that other truth, so precious to us, that His care and His tender mercies are over all His works, that the loving watchfulness which still upholds all, and provides for all, is but the continuance of that care which was displayed in the creation of all. Creation, Providence and Grace are blended together in one continuous manifestation of the Divine Wisdom, Power, and Love.
But for this purpose it is of little importance to us whether Creation is described as taking place in a moment, or in six ordinary days. If the division into six days indicates orderly progress and watchful care, we naturally expect to find the same indications in each of the subordinate parts. To our imperfect conceptions each single day's work would bear that same character of vast instantaneous action which seemed so undesirable. It would not help us to realize what it is so important that we should thoroughly feel. The very fact then that the history of Creation is divided into days carries with it a strong presumption that those days are not ordinary days.
In the 14th and following verses, when Moses is describing the formation of the heavenly luminaries, he is particular in mentioning that one part of their office was to "rule over the day and over the night, and to divide the light from the darkness." Hence it is sometimes inferred that he was under a mistake in speaking of day and night at an earlier period. But such a mistake seems incredible. To suppose that Moses did not perceive that what he wrote in the 14th and following verses was incompatible with what he had written in the 4th and 5th verses, if such an incompatibility really existed, is to impute to him an amount of ignorance or carelessness which is at variance with the whole character of his writings from beginning to end. Instead of this it will be shown hereafter that, in all probability, his statements rested on a wide knowledge of facts. If then, under such circumstances, he uses the word "day" long before he comes to the formation of the sun, the natural inference is that he did so designedly—that it was his intention that his readers should understand that he was speaking of something very different from that natural day which is regulated by sunrise and sunset.
The way too in which he introduces the mention of the first and following days is apparently significant, though its full meaning is probably more than we can at present understand. In ver. 5 he carefully defines light and darkness as the equivalents of day and night; but in the next verse he passes over these words, and introduces two new ones, which he has not defined; these two words being as much out of place before the creation of the atmosphere as light and darkness are supposed to have been before the Creation of the Sun. And not only does he introduce two new words, but he introduces them in a very remarkable and, with our present knowledge, unaccountable manner. Had he said "And there was morning and there was evening, one day," we should have found no difficulty in harmonizing; his words with what he had previously said concerning the evolution of light. But he first of all reverses the order, and then does not supply the natural termination to his sentence—"And there was evening and there was morning,"—"one night" would seem to be the natural conclusion; but instead of that we read, "there was evening and there was morning, one day." Whatever farther significance then may be hereafter discovered in this remarkable statement, one thing at all events seems clear, that it was designed to call attention to the fact that the day spoken of was not a natural day. Probably certain stages in the progress of the work were indicated, which farther investigations may disclose to us. A few years ago such stages seemed to be discernible, but the continued progress of discovery has partly obliterated the supposed lines of demarcation. Still further discoveries may bring to light other divisions.
In the opening of the second chapter we are told that God rested on the seventh day from all His work, and His rest is spoken of in such a way as to carry our thoughts at once to the Fourth Commandment. In that commandment the duty of hallowing a seventh portion of our time is based on the fact that "in six days the Lord made heaven and earth, the sea and all that in them is, and rested the seventh day." But the analogy entirely fails unless the days of the Creator's work bore the same proportion to the day of His rest which man's six days of labour bear to his Sabbath. Now we are expressly told in other parts of Scripture that the Divine Sabbath is not yet ended (Heb. iii. iv.), and we are led to infer that it will not end till He that sitteth upon the throne shall say, "Behold I make all things new." If then the Sabbath of the Creator is measured by thousands of years—the whole duration of man upon the earth—it follows that the days of His work must have been of corresponding length.
One more indication, so strong that in itself it seems sufficient to decide the question, is to be found in the 4th verse of the second chapter. [Footnote: It is not unusual with critics of the German school to assert that this is an independent account of the Creation. But the assertion does not appear to have any valid foundation. The supposed grounds for it are well discussed in the "Speaker's Commentary," vol. i. p. 23, and in "Aids to Faith," Essay v., Sections 2, 4, 5. It has already been pointed out that the supposed variations in order rest entirely on the translation.] In that verse all that is ascribed to the six days in the preceding chapter is summed up as the work of a single day. If then the word is used in a natural sense in the first chapter, it is clearly used in an extended sense in the second chapter. But if it had been used in a natural sense in the first chapter, there would have been no need whatever for its use here. Its place would have been taken—and most appropriately—by the word [Hebrew script], a week, with which Moses was familiar (ch. xxix. 28; Deut. xvi. 10). Its use here would have connected the weekly division of time with the Creation, and as its presence would have been thus strongly significant, its absence is a no less significant indication that the six days spoken of in the preceding chapter are something very different from six natural days.
Three points, therefore, seem to be clear:—
1. However the chapter may be interpreted, there are in it coincidences with ascertained facts so marked that they cannot possibly be fortuitous. They prove therefore that Moses was in possession of some accurate information on the subject on which he was writing.
As we proceed with our subject we shall come upon many more indications of this, some of them exceedingly remarkable. It is therefore by no means improbable that he was acquainted with the fact, that the work which he was describing was one which had occupied a long series of ages.
2. Supposing that Moses was acquainted with all which has now been discovered by geologists, and that he was desirous of imparting that knowledge to his readers, the language which he has employed is the most appropriate that, under the circumstances, he could have chosen for the purpose. 3. The phenomena exhibited by the context indicate not only that he had this intention, but that he also intended that such of his readers as were competent to entertain the idea, should have sufficient indications to guide them to his meaning.
Whatever then may be the real significance of the "days"—a point which the knowledge at present in our possession seems insufficient to explain—it seems very clear that something very different from natural days is intended. And this is a sufficient answer to the objection which is founded on that interpretation. That there would be very many points which as yet we are unable fully to understand, has been already shown to be not only possible but probable; and among them it appears this question of the true meaning of the days must be left for the present. When we come to consider subsequently the great number of points in which harmony between the narrative and discovered facts is brought out on investigation, [Footnote: Chap. v.] we may well be content to leave many points unexplained till our knowledge is greatly increased.
The second objection has reference to the relative antiquity of the various forms of life, of which we find traces in the successive strata of the rocks. If it be assumed that the apparent coincidences which have been pointed out between the Mosaic narrative and the geological records are real, and that the traditional interpretation is the true one, then we ought to find—
1. No traces at all of animal life below the Trias.
2. No traces of mammalia below the Cretaceous formation.
But the examination of the rocks leads to a very different result. Traces of life have been found, probably in the Laurentian, certainly in the Cambrian rocks. The earliest known fish is the Pteraspis, which has been discovered in the upper Silurian formation at Leintwardine, in Shropshire. The first member of the reptilian order, Archegesaurus, occurs in the coal measures; and the first traces of a mammalian—two teeth—occur at the junction of the Lias and Trias. In every case, then, we meet with traces of life at a period long anterior to that at which we should naturally expect them.
In order to ascertain the real weight of this objection we hare to investigate two points:—
1. What are the animals to which the Mosaic Record refers?
2. What does it really tell us about the creation of those animals?
1. It is commonly assumed that all living creatures are comprehended under the terms used in describing the work of the fifth and sixth days. But a more careful examination shows that there is no real ground for this assumption. The first point which presents itself is the omission of the Hebrew word for fish, [Hebrew script], in the account of the fifth day—an omission the more marked, because the word does occur in vv. 26, 28, in which dominion over all living creatures is granted to man. The two words which are used in ver. 21 are [Hebrew script] from [Hebrew script], to stretch out, to extend, and [Hebrew script], from [Hebrew script], identical with [Hebrew script], to trample with the feet. The description then points us to animals of great size, especially length, which trample with the feet. "Great sea- monsters," Gesenius calls them. These words clearly indicate the Saurian and allied tribes of reptiles; and when we turn to the rocks we find the remains of these creatures occurring in great numbers, precisely at the point which Moses assigns to them.
Again, in the account of the sixth day, three classes of animals are mentioned; but we have no means whatever of ascertaining what kinds of animals were comprehended in these three classes, or whether they included all the mammalia then known to the Jews; much less then are we justified in inferring that they comprehend all mammalia that were then, or ever had been in existence.
But it may perhaps appear strange, that the account of the Creation of living beings should be of such limited extent, embracing only reptiles, birds, and mammals. A little consideration, however, will remove this apparent strangeness. We should, perhaps, naturally expect to have some notice of the first appearance of animal life; but from the circumstances under which Moses wrote such a notice was simply impossible. The lowest and simplest form of life with which we are now acquainted is the Amoeba Princeps, a minute particle of jelly-like substance, called sarcode—scarcely larger than a small grain of sand—and with no distinction of organs or limbs. [Footnote: Carpenter, The Microscope and its Revelations, p. 428.] The oldest known fossil, Eozoon Canadense, is of a class but little above this—the foraminifera; we may therefore deem it probable that life began with some form not very unlike the Amoeba. How could the formation of such a creature have been described to the contemporaries of Moses? They could have had no idea of its existence. To describe the first beginnings of life then, was, under the circumstances, an absolute impossibility. But if a part only of the long series of animal life could possibly be noticed, the determination of the point at which he should first speak of it would be left to the writer, guided as he would be by considerations of the object for which, and the persons for whom, he wrote, which we must necessarily in our position be unable duly to estimate. All that we are entitled to expect is that the account, so far as it extends, should be in accordance with facts.
The next point to be ascertained is, "Does the Mosaic Record intimate that the creations of reptiles on the fifth, and of mammals on the sixth days were entirely new creations, i.e. that no creatures of these classes had existed before?" There is no direct assertion to this effect; it is only an inference, though a natural one, when we consider the circumstances under which it was drawn. When, however, we turn to the original we find the 20th verse worded in a way which seems designed to avoid the suggestion of such an inference. Literally translated it is, "Let the waters swarm swarms, the soul of life." Such creatures then may have existed before, but not in swarms. And in the account of the sixth day, as has been already noticed, three forms of mammalia are specified, and we have no knowledge as to the varieties included in these three forms. Nor is there here any intimation that it was the first creation of such animals. The greater part of the earlier fossils belong to the Marsupialia and Mouotremata, and we have no reason to believe that these classes have existed in historic times in Europe, Asia, or Africa. They are now confined (with the exception of the opossums, which are American) to Australia. They were therefore entirely unknown to the Jews, and in consequence necessarily omitted in a document intended for their use.
What has been said with reference to reptiles is also applicable to birds. The first traces of them are found in the ornithichnites of the new red sandstone, and the first fossil—Archaeopteryx, in the Solenhofen strata, belonging to the Oolite. From the nature of the case the remains are necessarily scanty, since birds would be less exposed than other animals to those casualties which would lead to their preservation as fossils, but enough traces have been found to show that in the period corresponding to the fifth day they were very numerous, and attained in many instances to a gigantic stature. A height of from ten to twelve feet was not uncommon.
When, therefore, we notice that the fifth and sixth days correspond to two periods, in the first of which reptiles and birds, and in the second mammalia, were the prominent types, the words of the sacred historian seem to have an adequate interpretation in that fact. There is no contradiction between the two records. Moses describes but a very few of the facts which geology has brought to light, but those few facts are in exact accordance with the results of independent observation. The acts of Creation of which Moses speaks correspond to remarkable developments of the orders of animals to which he refers. To have noticed the time of the appearance of the first individual member of each class, as distinguished from the time when that class occupied the foremost place in the ranks of creation, would have been inconsistent with the simplicity and brevity of the narrative, while it would have been unintelligible to those for whom the narrative was intended, since these primeval types had passed out of existence ages before the creation of man. It is, however, noteworthy, that the first appearances of the several orders follow precisely the same arrangement as the times of their greatest development.
This objection may be very briefly disposed of, though it appears to be one which has made a very deep impression on Mr. Darwin. [Footnote: Origin of Species, p 1, &c.] It is entirely an inference drawn from the old interpretation of the six days. While that interpretation was received it followed, as a necessary consequence, that the creation of all kinds of plants on the third day, and of reptiles, birds, and mammalia on the fifth and sixth days respectively, must have been simultaneous. But if that interpretation is proved to be untenable, the inference drawn from it falls to the ground. The language of the narrative seems to point in an opposite direction. There is one instance in the chapter in which the words used seem to point to an instantaneous result. "And God said 'Let light be' and Light was," though in this case the words probably have a further significance, which has been brought out by the discovery of the nature of light. But in these three cases the command is first recorded, with (in two cases) the addition "and it was so," and then the narrative goes on to speak of the fulfilment of the command, as if the command and its fulfilment were distinct things.
These two objections may advantageously be considered together, since the fifth is in a great measure, though not entirely, dependent upon the fourth. For if death, in the common sense of the word, was unknown till the fall of Adam, it follows as a necessary consequence that no carnivorous creatures could have existed before that time. On the other hand, it may be considered as the natural death of large classes of animals to be devoured by the carnivora; so that if there were no carnivorous animals prior to the Fall, one of the avenues to death, at all events, had not been opened.
There is really no ground at all for the first of these objections in the actual history of Creation. It is only when the threat held out to Adam (ii. 17) is viewed in the light of St. Paul's comment upon it (Rom. v. 12; viii. 20) that the supposition can be entertained. This, then, is the real foundation of the difficulty.
But, first of all, there is no reason to suppose that St. Paul's words refer to any death but that of man. Now, it may well have been, that although man, having a body exactly analogous to those of the animals, would naturally have been subject, like them, to the ordinary laws of decay and death, yet in the case of a creature who possessed so much which raised him above the level of the lower animals, there may have been some provision made which should exempt him from this necessity. That this was the case appears probable from the mention made in the narrative of the Tree of Life. We have no intimation whether the action of the fruit of this tree was physical or sacramental, but that, in one way or other, it had the power to preserve man from physical death seems almost certain from the way in which it is spoken of after the Fall (iii. 22-24). But the mention of the Tree of Life leads to the inference that the case of Adam was entirely exceptional.
In the next place, it does not seem probable that that dissolution of the body which was the natural lot of all other animals was the whole, or even the chief part, of the evil consequence of Adam's fall. That it was included in the penalty seems probable, but it only constituted a comparatively unimportant part of that penalty. The threat was, "In THE DAY that thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die," and we cannot doubt that the Divine words were exactly fulfilled, though Adam's natural death did not take place for many hundred years. But the guilty creatures, covering their nakedness with fig-leaves, crouching among the trees of the garden in the vain hope of hiding themselves from the face of their Maker, who were to transmit an inheritance of sin and shame and misery to their yet unborn posterity, were surely very different beings from those whom the Creator but a short time before had pronounced "very good." The true life of the soul was gone; the image of God defaced. This was the real, the terrible death. If death in its full sense means nothing more than the dissolution of the body, our Lord's words, "He that liveth and believeth in Me shall never die," have failed of their fulfilment. That promise has been in force for more than eighteen centuries, and yet no case has occurred of a Christian, however holy he may have been, or however strong his faith, who has escaped the universal doom. The Church of the Patriarchs could point to an Enoch, the Jewish Church to an Elijah, who were exempted from the universal penalty; but Christianity can point to no such exemption, nor does she need it. To her members, to die is to sleep in Jesus; to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord, for the penalty of death is cancelled.
Though, then, it seems by no means improbable that Adam, if he had not fallen, would have been exempt from the dissolution of the body, yet this is not absolutely certain, and even if it were certain, his case would be an exceptional one: no inference as to the immortality of the animal creation could have been drawn from it.
The supposition that all animals prior to the fall lived entirely on vegetable food rests partly on this groundless inference, and partly on the Divine Words recorded in verse 30: "And to every beast of the field, and to every fowl of the air, have I given every green herb for meat." But it is important to notice that these words are not recorded as addressed to the animals, like the command to be fruitful and multiply. Had this been the case, any omission to mention the flesh of other animals, might have been looked upon as significant. Instead of this they are addressed to Adam, and they follow other words in which the same things are assigned to Adam for his food. They come then in the form of a limitation to the rights granted to Adam, rather than of a definition of the rights of the lower animals. Adam was to have the free use of every green herb, but he was not to account himself the exclusive owner of it. The beast of the field and the fowl of the air were to be co-proprietors with him; they were to have the use of it as freely as himself; but that they were to be restricted to the use of vegetable food nowhere appears. Accordingly we know that carnivorous creatures have existed from the first, and that though to a superficial observer this may appear a cruel arrangement, yet in reality it is a most merciful provision, by which aged, weak, or maimed animals are preserved from the agonies of death by starvation.
We may conclude then that there is no real contradiction between the conclusions at which Geologists have arrived, and the words actually made use of by Moses, but that all such supposed contradictions have arisen from meanings being attached to those words, which, though possible or even probable, were not the only possible meanings. When the difficulty has been suggested, and the words have in consequence been more closely examined, it appears that they are capable of an interpretation in strict harmony with every fact which Geologists have as yet discovered, and that in many cases there are not wanting indications that the writer intended them to be thus understood.
These objections, so far as they are based or supposed to be based on ascertained facts, are very few and insignificant. The chief of them are as follows:—
1. Moses describes light, and the division of night and day as existing before the Creation of the Sun.
2. Moses describes the firmament as a solid vault.
3. Moses speaks of the stars as created on the fourth day, only two days before Adam, whereas astronomers have asserted that many of them are so distant that the light by which we see them must have been on its way ages before Adam was created.
That part of the first objection which refers to the existence of light prior to the creation of the Sun, appears so extremely childish that it might have been thought unnecessary to notice it, had it not been solemnly propounded in such a work as "Essays and Reviews." [Footnote: Page 219] Anyone who is in possession of a telescope of but moderate power may satisfy himself of its futility on any starlight night. He has only to turn his telescope to one or two of the more conspicuous nebulae; the Great Nebula in Orion, for instance, or the Ring Nebula in Lyra, and his eye will receive light which has not come from any Sun, for it is a well- ascertained fact that these nebulae are nothing but vast masses of incandescent gas. And this objection is singularly inappropriate in the mouth of the opponents of the Mosaic Record, inasmuch as the Nebular hypothesis is with them the favourite method of accounting for the present state of things. The view which they bring forward as an alternative to the Mosaic account assumes the very state of things which, when, alleged by Moses, they denounce as impossible. The other part of this objection, which refers to the division of day and night, will be more advantageously discussed when we come to consider the actual accounts of the first and fourth days' work. It will then appear probable that the statements which Moses has made on this subject, instead of being indications of ignorance, are the result of a profound knowledge of the subject on which he was writing.
Next, it is alleged that Moses describes the firmament as a solid vault.[Footnote: Essays and Reviews, p. 220.] "The work of the second day of creation is to erect the vault of heaven, which is represented as supporting an ocean of water above it." That the Greek and Latin translations in this place do seem to imply the idea of solidity seems indisputable; and from the Latin the word "firmament" has passed into our own language. But there is no reason to think that the Hebrew word has any such meaning. It is derived from a root signifying "to beat out—to extend." [Footnote: May not this root, [Hebrew script], have some connexion with [Hebrew script], "to be light," from which is derived the Aramaic "Raca" of Matt. v. 22?] The verb is often applied to the beating out of metals, but not always. It is a new doctrine in etymology, that the meaning of a verbal noun is to be deduced from the nouns which often supply objects to its root, instead of from the meaning of the root itself. But even if it can be shown that the word did originally involve such a meaning, that would be nothing to the purpose. It would only be in the same case with a vast number of other words, which, though etymologically untrue, are habitually used without inconvenience, because they do convey to the minds of others the idea which we intend to convey, their etymology being lost sight of. Probably, the very persons who bring forward the objection do sometimes use the word "firmament," though they know the error which is involved in it. Nor would they be any more accurate if they substituted for it the Saxon word "heaven," since that also involves a scientific inaccuracy. The word used by Moses was the commonly recognized name for the object of which he was writing; and no objection to his use of it can be maintained, unless it can be shown that in using it he rejected some other word equally intelligible to all, and which was at the same time etymologically correct. But there is no ground for the assumption that any such word existed in the time of Moses or at any subsequent period.
The third objection, of course, ceases to have any force if the days of creation are no longer regarded as natural days. But the objection is in itself, apart from this condition, of no consequence whatever. For, in the first place, it is by no means certain, or even probable, that the stars referred to in the fourth day's work are the fixed stars. The Hebrew has no word for planets as distinguished from the fixed stars, although, as we know for certain, the difference between the planets and the fixed stars was recognized from a very early period. In every case, then, the context must determine the sense to be given to the word. In this case, the fact that these stars are mentioned in connexion with the sun and moon, combined with our knowledge that the planets, like the moon, are dependent upon the sun for their light, would lead us to infer that they are meant.
But even if the fixed stars were meant, the objection would be no longer tenable. It rests on certain estimates as to the supposed distances of the fixed stars and star clusters, which were formed by the late Sir W. Herschel from what he designated the "space- penetrating power" of his telescopes. Starting with the assumption that the stars were of tolerably uniform size and brilliancy, and that the difference in apparent brightness was the result, and therefore a measure of their distances, he proceeded to apply the same process to the star clusters, which, even in a fair telescope, present only the appearance of faint nebulous spots of light, but are resolved into clusters of stars by more powerful instruments. In many cases, he found that a certain proportion existed between the telescopic power by which a cluster was first rendered visible, and that required for its resolution, and by this means he formed what he considered a probable estimate of its distance. Other clusters there were which only became visible in his most powerful telescopes, and which, therefore, he could never succeed in resolving. These he placed at a still greater distance, and from this estimate he deduced the conclusion that their light must have been in some cases as much as 60,000 years in reaching the earth.
But the whole foundation on which this long chain of inference rested has now been shown to be evanescent. In the first place many of his irresolvable nebulae have been proved by the spectroscope to be true nebulae—masses of luminous gas, and not star clusters at all; and, in the next place, the actual distances of a few of the fixed stars have been approximately ascertained, and it is proved beyond all doubt that the different degree of brightness exhibited by different stars is no test at all of their distance. Of all the stars in our hemisphere whose distance has thus been measured, the nearest to us is one which can only just be discerned by a practised eye on a favourable night, 61 Cygni, whilst the most brilliant star visible in England, Sirius, is at a considerably greater distance. The most competent judges estimate the magnitude of Sirius as about one thousand times that of the sun [Footnote: Mr. Proctor in Good Words, February, 1872.]. In addition to this, many stars of very different magnitudes are found to be related to each other in such a way as to show that they are in actual, and not merely in optical proximity. The clusters which were formerly supposed to consist of large stars at enormous distances from us, are now, upon very solid grounds, believed to be formed of much smaller stars, at much more moderate distances, so that it is very improbable that there is any object visible in the heavens whose light has taken so much as 6000 years, instead of 60,000 years to reach us.
We come now to the consideration of the Nebular Theory of Laplace, in so far as it is opposed to the Mosaic account. It must be remembered that, after all, this is only a theory. Even if it could be satisfactorily established, it would only point out a way in which this world MIGHT have been formed. That it could not have been formed in any other way is an independent proposition, in support of which no single argument has ever yet been brought forward. There may be a greater or less probability that the earth was formed in this particular way, that probability depending on the extent to which the theory accounts for observed facts. This it does in many cases, and it has in consequence been accepted AS A WHOLE by many scientific men, as a substitute for the Scriptural account. As will be seen hereafter, there are strong reasons for admitting it as a supplement to the brief account given by Moses; but our business now is to ascertain, whether it has any just claim to be received instead of that account.
The theory seems to have been suggested by certain speculations of Sir W. Herschel. In his telescopic examination of the Nebulae and star clusters, he found that in a great number of cases, when a nebula was rendered visible by a certain amount of telescopic power, it would be resolved into separate stars by a telescope of a little higher power. But there were some nebulae, visible in very small telescopes, or even discernible with the naked eye, such as those in Orion and Andromeda, which could not be resolved even by his great four-foot reflector, the largest telescope that had then been constructed. And these nebulae exhibited a great variety of forms. Some of them were vast shapeless masses of faint light; others, which he designated "planetary" nebulae, exhibited a regular form—a circular disc more or less clearly defined, often brightest in the centre. Others seemed to be intermediate between these two classes. Hence he was led to the idea that these were worlds in the process of formation, and that their varying forms indicated varying stages of that process.
This suggestion was eagerly adopted by the members of the French Academy, who were at that time on the look-out for anything which they thought would help them to account for the existence of the world, while they refused to acknowledge a Creator. It was taken up by one of their number—Laplace—a man who stood in the very foremost rank as a mathematician and physical astronomer, and moulded into shape by him.[Footnote: There is a very full account of Laplace's hypothesis, extracted from the works of Pontecoulant, in Professor Nichol's System of the World, pp. 69—86.]
He assumed, that the Solar System existed at the very earliest period as a shapeless nebula, a vast undefined mass of "fire- mist;" that at some time or other the separate particles of this fire-mist began to move towards their centre of gravity, under the influence of their mutual attractions, and thus assumed a spherical shape; that by some means or other a motion of rotation was originated in this spherical mass, which increased in rapidity as the process of condensation advanced. The effect of this rotation would be a flattening of the sphere; the equatorial diameter would increase while the polar diameter, or axis of rotation, diminished; and when the centrifugal force thus produced had reached a certain point, a ring would detach itself from the equator, but would continue to revolve about the common centre. He supposed that a succession of rings were thus thrown off, which finally broke up and accumulated into one or more spherical masses, forming the planets and their satellites, while the remainder of the original sphere was condensed into the sun. The planets and their satellites would continue to revolve about the centre as the ring from which they were formed had done, while the different original velocities of the particles of which they were formed, some having been in the outer, some in the inner part of the ring, would cause them also to rotate on their axis. As the condensation advanced, the heat which had originally existed in the "fire-mist" would be condensed also, so that all the masses when formed would be in an incandescent state, but the planets and their satellites being comparatively small would soon cool down, while the sun, owing to its greatly superior bulk, still retains its heat.
There is no doubt much to be said in favour of this theory, which may be more advantageously considered hereafter, when we shall have to consider it as supplementary to the Mosaic account. At present we are only concerned with it as it claims to stand alone, and to be accepted as a substitute for that account. Viewed in this light, as a substitute for a Creator, as showing us how the universe might have come into existence spontaneously, it utterly breaks down in three points.
1. It gives us no account whatever of the origin of matter, but assumes that it was already in existence at the time from which the theory takes its point of departure. But some account of it must be given. Either it was created by some higher power, or it was eternal; for the idea of its being self-originated is manifestly untenable. If it was created, there is an end of the theory—the act of creation assumes the existence of a Creator; and the only question left is, whether that Creator did more or less. But the very object of the theory was to dispense with the existence of a Creator. This alternative, then, it must reject, and there is nothing left but to fall back upon the other, and to assume that it existed from all eternity. But it is certainly not less difficult to us to conceive the possibility of inert matter being self-existent and eternal, than it is to recognize the existence of an eternal and all-powerful Spirit. Our own consciousness helps us to realize the possibility of the existence of an Eternal Mind, and of the exercise of power by that mind; but we have nothing to help us to a conception of self-existent matter.
In addition to this, the idea of eternity precludes from its very nature the idea of possible change. If there is change there must be the distinction of before and after, and so of the succession of existence, which involves the idea of time. That which is subject to change, and this theory assumes a change in the condition of matter, cannot be eternal.
2. The next failing point is, that this theory assumes a change, of the origin of which it can give no account. The assumption is, that matter which had existed from all eternity, or for an indefinite time, in a state of perfect rest, suddenly began to move towards its centre of gravity. A body, or a system of particles, can remain at rest only under one of two conditions. Either it must be acted on by no force at all, or all the forces by which it is acted on must be in perfect equilibrium. If matter existed under the first of these conditions, whence did the force suddenly emanate? Force cannot be self-originated any more than matter. But if the other alternative be adopted, how was the equilibrium disturbed? It is a fundamental axiom of mechanics that "a body (or system of bodies) at rest will continue at rest till it be acted upon by some external force." But the theory supplies no such external force, for it could only originate in that which the theory ignores—the will and power of some intelligent Being.
3. The third defect is, that the theory does not give any satisfactory account of the origin of the motions of rotation and revolution. Laplace does not attempt this. He simply assumes that a motion of rotation was set up somehow; but many of his followers, perceiving that the theory broke down here—though they passed the other two defects unnoticed—have attempted to supply the deficiency in this point. Some have attempted to account for this motion by analogy. It has been suggested that it was of the same nature, and produced by the same causes, as the vortex which is formed when a vessel full of fluid is emptied through an orifice in its bottom. Pontecoulant, in his account of the theory, enters more into detail. He assumes that in the process of agglomeration large bodies of matter impinged obliquely on the already formed mass, and so imparted to it a motion of rotation.
A consideration of the mechanical conditions of the problem will show the unsoundness of Pontecoulant's views. It is of course assumed that the forces by which this rotation is said to have been produced are identical in their character with those with which we are familiar, for the introduction of any force peculiar to that time would be equivalent to an admission of a directing power. The following propositions then seem unquestionable:—
1. The nebula must be considered as a system of particles acted on by their mutual attractions, and by no other force.
2. When two particles of matter, a and b, attract each other, it is a fundamental principle of mechanics, (commonly known as the "Third Law of Motion") that whatever amount of momentum is produced in a, an equal and opposite momentum must be produced in b. Hence if the mutual action remain undisturbed, the two particles will approach each other and finally meet. On their union, the two momenta being equal and opposite will neutralize each other, and there will be no tendency to produce motion of any kind. 3. The same law will hold good with reference to any number of particles, and therefore with reference to the supposed nebula. Every single particle will produce a certain momentum in each of the other particles, and at the same time will have impressed upon it by each of the other particles an equal and opposite momentum. Hence when all the particles are collected into a single mass, each individual momentum will be balanced by an equal and opposite one, and there can be no resultant motion.
The analogy from fluids flowing through an orifice fails, because—
1. The particles of the fluid are acted on by forces other than their mutual attractions, and in many cases affecting them unequally, e. g., friction against the sides of the containing vessel and the orifice.
2. Because the orifice is not a point, but a finite area, and consequently the particles of the fluid are acted on by forces which do not pass through the same point.
Considered then as a substitute for the action of an intelligent Creator, Laplace's theory utterly breaks down in three points, which, as they will have to be referred to hereafter, it is well to recapitulate.
1. It does not account for the origin of matter.
2. It does not account for the emergence of the force of attraction.
3. It does not give a satisfactory account for the motion of rotation.