process must himself hold some attitude toward theism. Is the evolution purely mechanical? Does it in some inexplicable fashion carry on itself? Or is a living God immanent in it? Certainly with reference to the origin of religion this question cannot be thrust aside, for as Schelling profoundly said, "Every religion needs two factors, namely, both man and God." But by many of these theorists all religions, including Christianity, are treated as though they were nothing but psychological products of the man himself, originated and developed by purely natural causes without any presence of a living, personal God corresponding to the consciousness of man and active in human affairs. Thus their discussions as to the origin and development of religion deal with nothing but the subjective notions about God or gods. Whether there is any objective truth corresponding to these subjective notions is either slurred over as a matter of indifference or the objective reality is without a word of proof denied outright. The Christian theist, however, whatever his views of evolution, holds fast to his faith in the living, immanent, personal God. Could that brutelike creature which the evolutionist delights to picture make himself in some way into a human being? Could he develop those powers within himself? That evidently implies a capacity to develop the capacity, and so on ad infinitum. But in the capacity for reason, speech, morality, religion, consists the very nature of man, and he cannot therefore exist without his nature, that is, his capacities entering into some degree of activity. Thus at the very beginning, in the very simplest, most fundamental form of his existence, man is heaven-high above the brute. Moreover, if in that capacity of man for reason, speech, morality, religion, there did not lie some inextinguishable secret relation to his goal would the wheel ever have begun to roll forward toward it? Do stones make any start toward becoming roses, or cabbages begin to advance toward becoming horses? All this means that man did not begin his career as beast but as man. This is what Humboldt meant when he said, “Man is man only because he speaks, but he could not have spoken

if he had not been already man." Similarly, Sydney Smith, in one of his odd utterances which often embody profound truth, remarks, "I feel myself so much at ease about the superiority of mankind; have such a decided contempt for the understanding of every baboon I have ever seen; I feel so sure that the blue ape without a tail will never rival us in poetry, painting, and music, that I see no reason whatever that justice may not be done to the few fragments of soul and tatters. of understanding he may possess.

Nor does the doctrine of evolution, after all, soberly taken, require that its adherents should believe in a bestial condition of primitive man. Huxley himself, in trying to prove that the anatomical differences between the human frame and the chimpanzee are not such, either in kind or degree, as to justify a wide distinction, yet confesses that if in defining man we take into account the phenomena of mind there is between man and those beasts which are nearest to him in anatomy a difference so wide that it cannot be measured, "an enormous gulf," "a divergence immeasurable," and "practically infinite." So Drummond, in spite of his reiterations about the savage, brutelike condition of primitive man, seems at times to agree with Huxley. He says that no serious thinker, on whichever side of the controversy, has succeeded in lessening to his own mind the infinite distance between the mind of man and everything else in nature; speaks of the ascent as gradual or, what is more likely, rhythmical by a series of pulses; and in another place illustrates the possibility of such leaps by taking us to the arctic regions where there is in the winter no such thing as liquid. The temperature might be thirty-one degrees above zero or thirty-one below, without making any difference in the aspect of the country. All is ice and snow. But suppose the temperature to rise a few degrees higher than thirty-one above zero. What a contrast! While a rise of sixty degrees had made no appreciable difference in the aspect of things a slight difference of temperature higher than thirty-one above zero transforms a world of ice into a world of water. So, says

the author, apparently borrowing from Cope, in the animal world may a very small rise beyond the maximum of brain open the door for a revolution, "the passing of some Rubicon, the opening of some flood gate which marks one of nature's great transitions." Facts are not wanting to warrant this illustration. Huxley, on the authority of Schaafhausen, tells us that some Hindu skulls have as small a capacity as fortysix cubic inches, while the largest gorilla yet measured contained upward of thirty-five. But the difference between that Hindu skull and the largest European one is not less than sixty-eight cubic inches. Yet nature has said that the difference of eleven cubic inches between the gorilla and the man marks the difference between the irrational brute which no outward condition can develop into a progressive, thinking, speaking, moral, and religious being, and a creature with powers, however undeveloped, of comparison, reflection, judgment, speech, sense of right and wrong, religious feeling, capable withal of indefinite advancement; while the difference of sixty-eight cubic inches between those Hindus and a cultivated European means simply the difference between one man and another. Look at another consideration. Is it not a well-known fact that talent, high mental endowment, genius, are not simply the mere natural product of the antecedent conditions. Are not these continually emerging in defiance of expectation and calculation? Do they not often mock the most unfavorable ancestry and environment? Men of genius certainly do not usually appear at the end of a long line of gradually ascending minds, as the foothills slope upward to the mountains. Who will predict the coming of the next great man? Who will tell us in what quarter to look for him? Historically, these men of light and leading stand at the beginning of new developments, and naturally so, for every movement needs for its beginning the mightiest forces. Do not the facts as to the emergence in history of great men at least suggest that precisely at the beginning of the whole development might have come the most gifted spirits and not semibrutes? Certainly we see no reason to surrender to a

mere hypothesis what is undoubtedly analogous to all human experience. Thus we are left free to believe that man, whatever may have been his primitive ignorance, began his career with noble mental powers.

We turn to the second assumption of naturalism, namely, that in existent savage races we can find the best types of primitive man. By a question-begging metaphor taken from geology these barbarous, brutal hordes are styled the oldest strata of mankind that we know. A favorite expression for them is "nature peoples." Here again is a subtle begging of the question which should be proved. Not only this, but an insult to humanity as well. What! that creature, submerged in sensuality, like a beast living only to feed and propagate himself and to gratify the appetites connected with these functions, a creature who, when he does not lie still in laziness, either jumps about in intoxicated pleasure or howls, kills, and who even with savage glee devours his fellows-is he to be called a natural man, and are hordes of such to be styled "nature peoples"? Are not these savages in a condition precisely the opposite of true human nature? Besides, how happens it that primitive man has preserved himself in these savage specimens unchanged until this hour? This modern savage has back of him as many centuries as have the civilized races. Why has he remained stationary? And how shall we explain development by that which, according to the hypothesis, has not, during all those millenniums, developed at all? Moreover, comparative philology lifts up its opposing and decisive voice. Pointing to the polysyllabic and multiform type of the savage speech, it asserts with all authority that, so far as language proves anything, not these bestial creatures have preserved the original monosyllabic form of language, but that this has been done rather by one of the oldest of civilized peoples, namely, the Chinese. This original type of speech lies also at the base of the Accado-Sumirian, is recognizable in that of the ancient Egyptians, and glimmers through even that of the Vedic Indians. This conclusion of comparative philology is vindicated by all that we know of

the religion, the ethics, and the form of government of the ancient Chinese. More than all, there is reason to believe that, so far from being true representatives of primitive men, these savage peoples are degenerate branches of a once noble stock. Does not reason suggest that since, on this theory, man has actually evolved into a condition immensely above his starting point he must have been at the beginning "above the line which separates stationary or retrograde peoples from progressive ones"? Is it not a well-known fact that the lowest savages are dying out? Then must not the men who on Darwinian principles peopled the world in accordance with the law of the survival of the fittest, when the environment must have been far less favorable to survival and progress than now, have been superior to these degraded and dying tribes? Superior in what? Among the qualities that win in the struggle for existence all evolutionists emphasize better mental endowments. It is therefore a natural inference that the intellectual equipment of primitive man was at least superior to that of the lowest modern savage, and that therefore these are degenerates. When we think of it, we should expect Darwin himself to grant this, and now and then, in spite of his representations in other places, forced by the facts, he does so. So do his disciples-H. Spencer, Lubbock, Caspari, Tylor. Waitz gives examples of degeneration into barbarism even of civilized peoples. Every individual man knows that he can degenerate, and every historian is compelled to admit that in fully civilized society we find races and generations lapsing into irremediable decay. Is it not also a well-known fact that moral and religious decline almost always precedes material decay? Drummond tries to escape the force of this argument by saying: "Granted that nations have degenerated, it still remains to account for that from which they degenerated. That Egypt has fallen from a great height is certain, but the real problem is how it got to that height. When a boy's kite descends in our garden we do not assume that it came from the clouds. That it went up before it came down is obvious from all that we know