Science and Civilisation.

793

two facts remain an unexplained mystery, one of those problems upon which a fuller light will be shed in a higher state of existence, than attempt an explanation on a hypothesis which, though setting up lofty pretensions, is based upon the assumption of being wise above what is written, and can be satisfactory to no one who would have his conclusions to rest on something more solid than a baseless dream.

ART. VII.-Science and Civilisation.*

HIS only have I found, that God made man upright, but he hath sought out many inventions." Such is the adage of the wisest of men, embodied in the best of books. Like all the sentences of that divine volume, it proclaims a truth which all human experience has confirmed, and to which all the researches of human philosophy must ultimately conduct. It is one of those axiomatic statements which, like the discoveries of Galileo and Newton, may raise a tumult of contradiction among the vulgar, and of controversy among the learned, but which, after the storm has spent itself, comes forth again like stars, after the clouds have dispersed, in the calm and silent majesty of truth. Nor does it seem less independent of the support of the friends of revelation, than of the attacks of its adversaries. With all the amount of good sense that has been written in its vindication, there have been mingled many mistakes, much blundering and nonsense; but, after all that has been done to make it clearer and stronger, "the conclusion of the whole matter" cannot be expressed in terms more concise or more conclusive than in the old formula, “God hath made man upright, but he hath sought out many inventions." Still the subject admits of discussion, and occasions will occur when it may be necessary to take up the question, both to instruct and to convince the gainsayers. Such an occasion has been given by recent attempts to revive the theory of the Monboddo School, and to prove, with the aid of scientific journals and associations, that man was originally no better than an ape or a savage. To this conclusion the Anthropolo

*The following paper was partly written last year, after the meeting of the British Association at Dundee. Circumstances have prevented its completion until now, when we hope that, though somewhat out of date, it will not be deemed altogether out of season.-EDITOR.

gical Journal has clearly pledged itself, and, under its present management, the public knows what to expect from it. But it is not so easy to see how such a respectable body as the British Association should allow its managers to select, as expositors of modern science, persons who are the avowed and unblushing advocates of that degrading theory. It certainly does seem strange and unaccountable, that the subject of civilisation,--a topic which, we venture to say, now occupies the thoughts of hundreds of our learned men, possessed of genius, eloquence, and skill sufficient to render it attractive, and of knowledge, historic and philosophic, equally sure to do it justice, should have been assigned to such a person as Sir John Lubbock, The only reason we can imagine for the selection of this gentleman to lecture on this subject is, that he has adopted a theory which, though adverse to the faith of the church, and to the general sense of the community, happens to chime in with the loose, unscriptural notions entertained by some of our would-be philosophers, who possess influence, or affect leadership, in this matter. Such at least was the advantage which this gentleman took of the position assigned to him as lecturer on civilisation. The whole of his lecture was occupied with attempting to answer the arguments of Archbishop Whately, and endeavouring to prove that the original state of man was that of a savage, out of which he has succeeded, in the course of ages, in raising himself, without any extraneous help, to a state of civilisation. We are well aware that this opinion has been advocated by several recent physiologists, and Sir John Lubbock is quite welcome to rank himself amongst them. But we repeat, it is strange that the task of lecturing on such a subject should have been intrusted to one holding an opinion so degrading to our nature, and palpably antagonistic to the word of God. What creed Sir John Lubbock may hold, or if he holds any particular creed whatever, we do not pretend to know; one thing is certain, that his theory is utterly incompatible with all that the Scriptures teach us concerning the origin of man; and that, if we were to adopt the views advanced in this lecture, we must not only renounce all the lessons of human history, but abandon all faith in the divine records, and come to this, as the conclusion of the whole matter, that God hath made man a savage, but they have civilised themselves by seeking out many inventions.

It is far from our intention to enter the lists with Sir J. Lubbock, whose address, as reported in the newspapers, hardly forms a suitable topic for review in our pages. We are sorely tempted, however, to expose the fallacy which pervades the whole of his reasoning against Dr Whately. Sir J. Lubbock

Sir John Lubbock versus Dr Whately.

795

may be a naturalist, but he is evidently no logician; and, in an evil hour, he ventured beyond his proper province to wrestle on the field of argument with the modern prince of logicians. The result, as might be expected, is a deplorable failure. The Archbishop held "That we have no reason to believe that any community ever did or ever can emerge, unassisted by external help, from a state of utter barbarism into anything that can be called civilisation." This sentiment, borne out by the whole tide of man's history, Sir John attempts to meet by maintaining, that fifty cases might be cited to the contrary. The nature of these fifty cases, so glibly appealed to, may be presumed, from the only one he thinks it needful to cite, namely, that of our own country. It would be superfluous to shew that the subjugation of Britain by the Romans, not to speak of the subsequent invasions of the more civilised tribes of Germany and France, which will occur to every school boy, takes this case entirely out of the hands of the advocates of self-civilisation. And, as this is placed at the head of Sir John's fifty cases, we may fairly presume that the other forty-nine, which are discreetly kept in the shade, would be found to be of the same description. Akin to this suicidal proof-case, is the effort made by Sir John to meet the argument which Dr Whately draws from the stationary character of barbarous nations placed beyond the reach of outside civilising influences. Unable to deny the fact, attested by such examples as that of the New Zealanders, cited by Dr Whately, who, to our knowledge, have remained in the same state of barbarism for two hundred years, he has recourse, first, to the gratuitous assumption, that such nations may require whole ages to reach the point of civilisation; and, next, with an air of far-reaching philosophy, he says, "We have been accustomed to see around us an improvement so rapid, that we forget how short a period a century is in the history of the human race. Even taking the ordinary chronology, it is evident that, if, in 6000 years, a given race has only progressed from a state of utter savagery to the condition of the Australians, we could not expect to find much change in one more century." He adds, "I am, however, the less disposed to question the statement made by Archbishop Whately, because the fact that many races are not practically stationary is, in reality, an argument against that of progress. Civilised races, say we, are the descendants of races which have risen from a state of barbarism. Barbarians, on the contrary, argue our opponents, are the descendants of civilised races, and have sunk to their present condition. But Archbishop Whately admits that the civilised races are still rising, while the savages are now stationary, and, oddly enough,

seems to regard this as an argument in support of the very untenable proposition, that the difference between the two is due, not to the progress of the one set of races,—a progress which every one admits, but to the degradation of those whom he himself maintains to be stationary. The delusion is natural, and like that which every one must have sometimes experienced in looking out of a train in motion, when the woods and fields seem to be flying from us, whereas we know that, in reality, we are moving and they are stationary." We have marked these sentences with italics, in order that our readers may, if they can, discover their meaning. To our mind, we frankly confess, after every allowance for typographical blunders, they present a perfect muddle of confusion, and we can only express our bewilderment in the form of questions. What, then, can Sir John mean by admitting that "the fact that many races are now practically stationary is, in reality, an argument against that of progress?" Is not this the very position which Dr Whately occupies, and from which Sir John Lubbock attempts to dislodge him? Further, Who denies that" civilised races are the descendants of races that have risen from a state of barbarism?" Who ever denied that our own ancestors were at one time painted savages, if not, as Jerome and some others assert, cannibals? Is not the real question at issue, whether they raised themselves, in virtue of their own intrinsic powers, and without any help from others? Further still, What can be meant by his asserting that Dr Whately's proposition is, "that the difference between the two is due, not to the progress of the one set of races, but to the degradation of those whom he himself maintains to be stationary?" And, finally, What, in the name of wonder, can he intend by the illustration he draws from the optical illusion of travellers in a train, who, because they themselves are moving, fancy the stationary objects around them to be flying from them? If this metaphor has any application to the point, must we not conclude that the illusion is on the side of Sir John Lubbock and his friends, who, themselves whirled along in the train of civilisation, imagine that the barbarous races are progressing; while Dr Whately, viewing them from terra firma, maintains that they are stationary?

After this unhappy skirmish with the Archbishop, Sir John Lubbock next proceeds to establish his own hypothesis, and here he becomes more intelligible, only, however, to betray more clearly the innate feebleness of his cause. He argues throughout on the supposition that the term stationary, as applied to races in the present question, is synonymous with immoveable; and he imagines that he has made out his point, if he can prove that any particular race of savages has made

Sir John Lubbock and the "Boomerang."

797

the slightest step towards self-improvement in the course of many ages. Thus, with evident exultation, he refers to the invention of the boomerang by the Australians, -a very slight step, as he admits, to be taken in 6000 years, but still a step towards self civilisation.* This may serve as a sufficient specimen of the sort of data upon which he founds his theory. He seems to forget that when we speak of a race of savages being stationary, it is not meant that they remain like a mountain "immoveable, infixed, and frozen round," as Milton has it, but that they continue in a state of barbarism; nor is it meant that every such nation continues to stand at the same point. But, in point of fact, dexterity in the use of their simple weapons is one of the marked features of savage life. Equally futile is his argument against deterioration, drawn from the absence of all traces of original civilisation among certain savage tribes. History abounds with too many examples to shew how rapid and complete the process of deterioration becomes, when man is driven by the force of circumstances far from the sources of knowledge, and is left destitute of education and example. It is quite true that where letters, philosophy, and the arts once flourished, we may expect to discover some memorials on the soil abandoned to desolation; but we have no reason to infer that these must follow in the tract of every wandering tribe as it poured over the face of the globe. Even in those countries where they once reached their highest point of perfection, do we not find that amongst the low hordes that now inhabit them, every relic of living civilisation has disappeared? Learning, arts, philosophy, have not been lost, but like the seeds of self-sowing plants, they have taken their flight to other regions, while the roving Arab, and the wretched Bedouin haunt the place of their birth. Thus, while it is true that, in regard to the world at large, civilisation has been making gradual and steady progress, it is equally certain that, in regard to many races and peoples, its benefits have been as entirely lost and gone out of sight as an African river in the sand. By not adverting to this, and other very obvious distinctions, the lecture of Sir John Lubbock is marked by a succession of irrelevant illustrations, loose conjectures, and baseless reasoning. We are compelled to add that his address indicates no feeling of reverence for that divine record which, more clearly and satisfactorily than the researches of human science

*All must admit that some savage tribes are more skilful than others in the invention and use of utensils adapted to savage life. But, unfortunately for Sir John Lubbock's single illustration, it so happens that evidence has been lately found of an instrument exactly resembling the boomerang among ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics; indicating that the instrument must have been known in other countries, and that it is not an Australian invention.