The Catholic World Volume I Part 123

Where do we find the difference between this middle theory and the law of M. Tremaux? In nothing but a greater or less importance attributed to the influence of soil; and even this difference is more apparent than real. The _fundamental law_ so understood--and it appears to us hard to understand it otherwise--const.i.tutes no novel idea or theory; it is nothing more than a variation of the cla.s.sic theory of the influence of media.

How is this law proved? It is impossible for us to follow the author in the development of his arguments. He gives proof in them of rare learning, and of profound and varied knowledge of ethnography. We observe the marked predilection of M. Tremaux for the soil of Africa, which he has ably described in special works. But when we have finished reading him, and would give an account of his arguments and of their value, we do {848} not find in them all the elements of conviction. We know that many writers have expressed an opinion very different from ours, but even should we be deemed too exacting, we must acknowledge that an attentive perusal has not convinced us. There are no doubt remarkable coincidences in the work; but they are not of a sufficiently trenchant character, and, moreover, most of the facts may be explained otherwise than by the influence of soil. Let us give some examples. "We cannot meet with a single instance of a civilization which has developed itself, nor even been maintained in cases of emigration, under adverse geological conditions." Nothing is more natural, in fact. Why should emigrants on the way of civilization settle preferentially in unfertile countries? For it must not be forgotten that what are here called geological conditions refer simply to the fertility of the soil.

Another argument extensively developed is drawn from the persistence of the same types in the same countries. After having examined Africa and Europe from this point of view, the author concludes thus: "In short, what have the migrations from the East peopling the West produced? They have created h.e.l.lenes in Greece, Romans in Rome, Gauls in France, and children of Albion in England." Must we conclude, from this persistence, that the conquering races have in each generation felt the influence of the soil, so as to resemble after some centuries the former populations? Such is the reasoning of M. Tremaux. But the same fact is appealed to by polygenists, who interpret it in a different manner. According to them, this persistence proves that the conquering race has always been absorbed by the indigenous; and they do not fail to conclude from it that between these two races illimitable fecundity, the specific character of unity, is hardly ever realized.

We read at the same page: "If we pa.s.s over other continents, the same results strike us on all sides. On certain points of Australia and America, the English type is attached from the very first generation."

This fact is stated by some naturalists, but it is denied by others.

We can say as much of the pretended transformation of negroes. Messrs.

Reiset, Lyell, and E. Reclus tell us that they are transformed in about one hundred and fifty years to approach the white type by one quarter of the distance which separated them from it. But American anthropologists, who are nearly all polygenists, resolutely affirm the contrary.

Thus we see the facts are difficult to ascertain, and still more difficult to interpret. It is one of the grand difficulties of anthropology. We rarely succeed in agreeing about the facts themselves, which only happens in some exceptional cases supported by perfectly exact statistics; and many facts are not of a nature to be consigned to the columns of an official register. Even in a case where the facts are placed beyond doubt, they are generally of a nature to be variously interpreted, and every one with preconceived ideas tortures them at his pleasure, and does not fail to find in them a confirmation of his theories. M. Tremaux is so filled with his idea that he finds proofs in support of it even in politics; and reciprocally, does not hesitate, in the name of geology, to counsel princes on the manner of governing their subjects. For example, we remember the war carried on in 1848 by Hungary against Austria. At that time Transylvania withdrew from the common cause and rallied to the Austrian government. The emperor Francis Joseph rejoiced at this result, hoping to easily propitiate the Croats; but he experienced from them an unexpected resistance, and their a.s.sembly of notables declared that Croatia should continue to share the fate of Hungary.

Upon this M. Tremaux says: "This would appear paradoxical if we considered only geographical positions, but consult {849} geology and all this will appear perfectly rational, since Transylvania reposes like Austria upon a great surface of old ground; whilst Hungary, Croatia, and Dalmatia stand upon more recent layers." We leave our readers to appreciate this.

The author adds: "As to Venetia, not only is its soil of recent formation, but it possesses a distinct and very different nationality; thus each one recognizes its unalterable tendencies."

What caused the sanguinary war which has just desolated America? Why, because the Southerns, dwelling on virgin soil, fought for their independence and would not be governed by men from old lands. And reflecting that the new lands of the South are more fitted to improve the races which cultivate them, M. Tremaux fears not to predict, notwithstanding the unforeseen victory of the North, that "in the future the South will govern the North, if it be not separated from it."

As to Ireland and Poland, it is again in the name of geology that our author defends their independence. Not hoping to obtain this result, he at least gives the princes who govern them wise counsels for their guidance.

Let us come to the scientific conclusions which the author pretends to draw from his principle in favor of natural history in general and of anthropology in particular. Since the soil acts so energetically in the modification of types, it is evident that the species ought to be essentially variable. Let a race be found isolated on a favorable ground, without any communication with the rest of mankind, and the modifications will be produced, transmitted, and increased in every generation; and, after a longer or shorter time, the new type will be so different from the old one, that illimitable fecundity will no longer exist between them; there will only be one species the more.

Transformations in reality are not made as rapidly as might be believed, because the isolation which we have supposed never exists.

It thence follows that the crossings with the primitive race, or even with a race on the road to degeneracy on an imperfect soil, constantly check the effect of the superior soil. At length there is an equilibrium between these two causes, and then there appears a medium type, which preserves its ident.i.ty so long as the circ.u.mstances remain the same. This necessarily happens in a period of several thousand years, like our historic period. But if we take in at a glance several thousand ages, we shall understand that the geological changes effected by time on the surface of the world will cause the action of the soil to prevail over the influence of crossings, in such a manner as to modify slowly but progressively the types and the species.

Starting from these principles, what does M. Tremaux require in order to explain the actual state of creation? A simple _primordial cell_ or _utricle_, the most simply organized being, whether animal or vegetable matters little. If this being so simple existed at the epoch which geologists term the _Silurian period_, it is many millions of ages past. Since then the surface of the globe has been constantly modified and ameliorated, life has been constantly developed, and form been brought nearer to perfection. It is thus that even in the most elementary beings nature has arrived at the numerous and complicated forms which we know. In this manner man at his appointed hour appeared on earth, where he strove to improve himself and is striving in that direction still. M. Tremaux does not exactly admit that we are descended from apes. No; but he contends that both man and ape sprang from one common source, which has now disappeared; and that whilst the quadruman, placed under unfavorable geological conditions, has suffered from its inevitable influence and been degraded, man has on the contrary, under happier influences, developed himself, and is become able, by {850} his intelligent activity, to combat those external influences. Hence his actual superiority--hence his future progress.

A serious objection here presents itself. Does the influence of the soil perfect the _instinct_ of animals as well as their bodies? Has _it_ given man that intelligence which, better than all zoological characters, especially distinguishes him from the brute creation? M.

Tremaux meets this difficulty with a reply which might have been taken from Nysten's dictionary. In his comparison "of man with the ape," he tells us "that M. Gratiolet divides the subject into two sections, the one referring to organization, the other to faculties. He concedes the resemblances of the first, he refuses to acknowledge those of the second, without observing that _these differences in faculties_ are only the consequence of a greater or less degree of organic development." This philosophical heresy does not slip by chance from the writer's pen; we find it repeated in several places, nearly in the same terms. Moreover, in refuting another pa.s.sage from Gratiolet, he says: "I am astonished that Gratiolet does not recognize in instinct a rudiment of intelligence; in the constructions of the beaver, in the nests of birds, in the cells of bees, elements of sculpture and of design, etc."

M. Tremaux divides the opinions of Gratiolet into two; the first part is serious, and is that of the learned anatomist; the second is that of sentiment, wherein he speaks by the same t.i.tle as the philosophers _who develop the void of their ent.i.ties_. This contempt for philosophy well explains the strange ideas of our author about the intelligence of man and the souls of brutes. To see nothing between both but a difference of organization is not philosophical. A little metaphysics would spoil nothing, and it really does not require a strong dose to behold the abyss which separates human intelligence, capable of seizing the abstract and the absolute as well as the concrete and the continent, from that of brutes, acting by instinct, able only at the most to combine some sensations, without ever having any general ideas.

We think we have now given a pretty exact epitome of M. Tremaux'

ideas. The whole work rests upon an ill defined principle, which, in the sense in which we have understood it, the only one which appears to us to be feasible, cannot be considered new. This principle, although true in a certain sense and within certain limits, is not to be proved irrefragable, as the basis of any theory should be. The consequences which are sought to be drawn from the premises are not necessarily contained in them, and many bear not the seal of a wholesome philosophy. We shall perhaps be thought a little too severe upon this work. We think we should be so, especially as the author is in many respects recommendable. _Apropos_ of the question of species, M. Tremaux writes: "M. Kourens has his merits, but they lie elsewhere; it is in his researches on the periosteum and on the vital cord that he acquires them." We may be allowed to use the same expressions and to say: "M. Tremaux deserves well, but not herein; his actual labors on ethnography and archaeology are very good. Read the account of his travels to Soudan and into Asia Minor, and you will acknowledge him a man of talent and undoubted science. But as to his theoretical ideas on the question of the species, he must not reckon upon them to support his reputation." Some journals may waste their incense upon him; the _Const.i.tutional_ may exclaim: "The veil has been lifted... a new law is about to unite all disputants. . the arguments of M.

Tremaux abound, and we feel only an embarra.s.sment in choosing."_ L'Independance Beige_ will join the chorus. Even the _Moniteur_ will grant its approval. But all this is no set-off against the opinions of the learned, and M. Tremaux knows very well that our great naturalists do not {851} look upon his ideas as acceptable, or his arguments as conclusive.

It will be observed that we have not spoken of the Bible, although its narrative appears compromised by the transformation theory. We believe it to be useless to mix up theology with scientific debates, at least, when it is not directly attacked. Now, M. Tremaux is far from attacking revelation; he does not believe his ideas reconcileable with Genesis; he never speaks of the Bible narrative but with the greatest respect. Hence we believe it advisable to show great tolerance toward sciences which are still in their infancy, which require their elbows free for development, and which must wander a little in unknown countries, free to make a false step from time to time. It is thus they will progress and arrive at the truth.

We will add one last remark on the address of the anthropologists. The origin of man concerns historians as much as naturalists; for this reason we should not, in works of this character, neglect historic monuments. Of all those monuments, books are the surest. Even in abstracting the special value which the Bible possesses as an inspired volume, it is not the less true that it is a doc.u.ment which must be considered, and which as a written doc.u.ment has an incontestably safer meaning than all the fossils in the world.

For a higher reason we should beware of all theories or hypotheses which do not agree with the sacred text. The Bible no doubt is not intended to instruct us in the secrets of the natural order, and it is perhaps for that that we find in it so little relating to these subjects; but the Holy Ghost, who inspired the sacred writers, could not have dictated to them errors, and every a.s.sertion which would be contrary to the _clear_ and _certain_ sense of a pa.s.sage in it should, for this reason, be rejected as untrue. When the sense is obscure or doubtful, which is nearly always the case in pa.s.sages relating to physics, we should, we think, be very cautious, and it is prudent for the learned to be on their guard, for fear of falling into very numerous and grave errors.

From The Victoria Magazine.

WISDOM BY EXPERIENCE.

What a shame! What abominable interference! What cruelty! What tyranny! These and many other strong expressions of the same kind proceeded from a collection of rose-stocks planted ready for budding.

They were all fiercely angry and indignant, and first one and then another uttered some exclamation of disgust, and then all joined in a chorus of maledictions on the gardener who had done them so much injury. It was in the month of June that their feelings were so much excited, just when the sap was most active, and they were throwing out their most luxuriant shoots. I don't know how they went on when the gardener first dug them up out of the hedges, and cut away all their side branches and left only a single straight stem. If they did not make a fight for it then, it must have been because their sap was all dried up, and their leaves had fallen off, and they were in low spirits, and did not much care what became of them. But even then I don't think they yielded without a struggle, and I have no doubt there was a good deal of scratching and dragging back, {852} and a great show of independence and sullenness. But they had not the spirits to keep up resistance, and the gardener did not give them much chance, for he pruned them close, and planted them in rows just far enough apart to prevent the possibility of their having much intercourse, or of the evil disposed corrupting the more docile. But it was different in June, when, as I said, the sap was active, and their branches began to grow out on all sides, so that they could reach each other and even take a sly pinch at the gardener or any of his friends who happened to come near. And the particular irritation now was because the gardener had discovered how wild they were becoming, and set resolutely about restraining them. First of all he cut off all the suckers that grew from the roots, and the lower shoots, leaving only those that grew at the crown of the stock, and then he put them all straight up, and would not let them loll about or hang over the path--a habit they had got into which was very disagreeable to those who pa.s.sed by. And if they would not stand upright without, he fastened them to pieces of board let into the ground. This was a great grievance, but I think they most rebelled at having their lower boughs cut off, for if left to themselves they would have spread and puffed themselves out in a most ridiculous way.

Now it so happened that Madame Boll, a stock of a former year which had been budded, but left in its place and not removed with the rest into the flower-garden, heard their exclamations of anger and impatience, and having perhaps gone through some such phase of feeling herself, and thus gained wisdom by experience, she thought she would try if she could put their case to them in a better light; so she took advantage of a little lull in the storm, and said in a gentle, ladylike tone,

"My young friends, I am very sorry to see you so unhappy; but perhaps if you will hear what I have got to say, you might think better of your present position."

"Well," said Miss Strong, who was tossing her long arms about in a very excited way, only luckily she was out of reach, "if you are going to take the gardener's part, and preach patience and submission, and that sort of thing, I can tell you you had better keep your remarks to yourself, or if I can get at you, I'll spoil that neat head-dress of yours, which, let me tell you, is not half as pretty as hundreds in the hedgerows, or as ours would have been, if we had been left to our own devices as we were last year;" which tirade she ended with a scornful laugh in which many of the others joined.

But little Miss Wild-Rose, who was nearer, said quietly,

"Perhaps it would be as well to hear what is said on the other side; particularly as, it is too hot to go on screaming and abusing people who don't seem to care about it;" and as several of the others were of the same opinion, Madame Boll took courage, and said what was in her mind.

"Perhaps it may give you more confidence in me to know, that when I was first placed here I had many of the same thoughts and feelings that you appear to have. I did not know why I was taken out of the hedgerow, and trimmed and restrained, and not allowed to have my own way; and I confess I thought it very hard. Particularly I was indignant, as no doubt you will be when the time comes (for you have still a good deal to undergo which you know nothing about at present),--I was, I say, very indignant when the gardener cut a slit in the only shoot which he had left me, and which was growing very luxuriant, and I was quite proud of it; and introduced a meagre little bud from another tree, and made me nourish and strengthen it, though I knew that my own shoot would suffer by it; and so it turned out; for after a while, when the bud began to grow, he cut away {853} my natural shoot altogether, and left only that which had been inserted."

Here Miss Strong broke in.

"You were very tame to submit to it. I would have banged and twisted about till I had got rid of it some way or other."

"Ah!" said Madame Boll, "we shall see; you are stronger and more resolute than I was. All I know is, I could not help myself."

"Cowardly creature!" muttered Miss Strong, scornfully. But Madame Boll resumed:

"I soon got used to the change, and gradually began to take an interest in the bud I had adopted; and though of course Miss Strong may affect to despise its beauty, I can a.s.sure you that most people have a different opinion."

Whereupon, Madame Boll gave herself airs, and coquettishly moved aside a leaf or two, and displayed a most perfect and symmetrical rose.

"But," said Miss Wild-Rose and her party all in a breath, "do you mean that we shall all bear roses like that?"

"Not all, certainly, possibly none of you exactly like, for there are hundreds of varieties, and many of them much more beautiful. It will be just as the gardener fancies, though he is generally guided in his selection by the habit and vigor of the stock, I daresay he will give Miss Strong, who is so energetic, a bud of Gloire de Dijon, or Anna de Diesbach, and you, being weaker, will have Devoniensis, or Niphetos."

Miss Strong gave a scornful toss at this, but did not vouchsafe any remark, though I think she felt rather complimented, and the others began to muse, since it must be so, what rose they would be likely to have, and which would become them best.

A little time after this it turned out just as Madame Boll had said--the gardener came one morning and began to bud the stocks, and just as he was preparing Miss Wild-Rose for the operation, a young lady came by, and asked what bud he intended for that one, for, she said, "I want a Devoniensis, and I think it would just suit it."

"I have got a Devoniensis bud here," he said, "and will put it in."

"And that tall one I think I should like for Gloire de Dijon."

"I will try," he said, "but somehow I am half afraid I shall have some trouble with it, for though vigorous it is rather awkward, and the thorns are very spiteful. To say the truth, I am half afraid of it, and have been leaving it till the last."

"But what," said the lady, "is this in the corner? Surely it is Madame Boll; and such a beauty! What is it doing here?"

"To say the truth, ma'am, I overlooked it when I planted the others out, and now it must remain where it is for another year."

"Well," she said, "I hope the others will take pattern from it and do as well."

"So," said Madame Boll, after they were gone, "that accounts for my being left here: I must confess I was a little mortified, for I thought it was a slight; but I generally find, if we wait awhile, everything comes right in the end, and possibly my being here has done you some good, or given you comfort; and if so, instead of regret, I ought to feel pleasure. But now, my young friends, I will tell you a conversation I overheard one day, between the young lady who was here just now and another, which your foolish behavior a short time ago brought to my mind. They were talking about the children in the school, and how difficult it was to make them feel the advantage of being submissive and conforming to their rules. They said they were so anxious to have their own way, and seemed to think it was a pleasure to their teachers to thwart them, or make them do what they did not wish, and not that it was intended for their good; and if their teachers thought they paid too much attention to their dress, {854} and wished to be smart, and wear flowers and feathers, when they ought rather to be adorning their minds, and beautifying their tempers, and enriching their understanding, they were ready to cry out, as you did just now, 'What tyranny!' 'How interfering!' 'Why can't they let us dress as we like?' But what they were particularly complaining about on that occasion, was that the children would persist in wearing hoops which stuck out their clothes, and made them take up twice as much room as they otherwise would have done. For, it seems, the benches where they sat were only large enough for them if they sat close together, which they could not do with hoops on, so they were obliged to tell them they could not take them into the school if they did not lay aside their hoops, and some of them were foolish enough to say that they would not come to school if they were not allowed to wear hoops. Now, it struck me, this was just like your folly in wis.h.i.+ng to keep your wild-growing suckers and lower branches, when you know very well that they would take away all the nourishment which is needed to bring the beautiful rose-buds to perfection; the bud, in your place, answering to the knowledge and other excellences which it is the object of education to impart to their ignorant and lawless natures, and which, in after years, when they are able to appreciate them, they prize highly, and can hardly understand what it was that made them so averse to go through the process necessary for their acquirement."

A year or two afterward I saw the young lady and the gardener looking at a bed of beautiful roses on the lawn, and heard the young lady ask what had become of the Devoniensis she had asked him to bud.