Contents

« Prev § II.—Chapter V. Organisation—Design. Next »

§ II.—CHAPTER V.

ORGANISATION DESIGN.

WE have been hitherto tarrying amid the comparatively simple and general phenomena of inorganic matter. By degrees we have advanced from the most simple and comprehensive to the more special and definite laws which mark the inorganic world. We have contemplated the vast and beautiful cosmical order subserved by the law of gravitation, and the general laws of motion; the structure of the earth in its apparently irregular, yet most orderly flights of architecture—the constitution of matter, revealing relations so exact, and a higher and more refined law of kindred or elective attraction. We have further observed the regular geometrical forms exhibited in crystallisation—no longer merely chemical compositions, but symmetrical arrangement. Our illustrations have been thus of a progressive character. Material order has been contemplated in an ascending series of complexity, from the ruder form of mere mechanical adjustment, to the higher forms of chemical affinity and geometric adaptations.

127

Crystallisation is the most perfect form assumed by inorganic matter. It is the highest order we reach among inorganic phenomena. There are, however, far higher, or at least more complex and impressive, modes of order presented to us in the material world, and bearing, therefore, as they have been always supposed to bear, with a special force upon the illustration of our subject.

Clearly marked as is the highest kind of inorganic order which we have considered, it is yet, so to speak, a mere outward order, proceeding from external junction of parts. It is the result of force from without, and dependent upon the direction and degree of the compulsory application. On the first view of organic phenomena, we are struck with their essential difference in this respect. We contemplate no longer merely a combination of outward relations, but a product of inward forces. The material object is no longer merely, as even in the case of the crystal, the result of aggregation, of the external juxtaposition of particles; it is a living production forming itself from within. A new power is seen stirring in matter—a power not only of selection or of adaptation, but of assimilation, and, moreover, of reproduction. Inorganic matter, it has been well said, only finds, organic makes, what is added to its structure; recasting the inert substance, and exhibiting it in new unions, not of binary merely, but of ternary and quaternary combinations. The inorganic changes that oh which it acts chemically; the organic vitalises, and imparts to the matter which it vitalises the power of acting in the same way on other substances. “This is the end and object of that series 128 of functions which, beginning with absorption, conveys the absorbed matter through the stem into the leaves, then subjects it to a process of exhalation, submits the rest to the action of the atmosphere, conveys it back into the system, elaborates it by secretion, and ends in assimilation. The plant is also generative. The inorganic mass can only increase by cohesion, by agglomeration from without. But the plant ’hath its seed in itself.’ It exists in generations. Besides vitalising that which is necessary to the conservation of each of its own parts, it is endowed with the power of giving existence to a new whole, and of providing the germ with the nourishment necessary for it, in order to commence its independent being.”6565   HARRIS’S Pre-Adamite Earth, p. 166.

These two attributes of assimilation and reproduction mark off and determine organic matter, in its lowest forms, from inorganic. They are the distinctive attributes of life in its feeblest developments. Our knowledge of life begins with them; and beyond such manifestations of the vital element—unsearchable in its hidden depths—our knowledge will probably never reach. Whenever matter is found to possess these properties, in contradistinction to the mere properties of chemical attraction or crystallisation, it is said to be organised. If we inquire more particularly for a definition of organisation, that given by Kant seems to be acknowledged to be the best. “An organised product of nature,” he says, “is that in which all the parts are mutually means and ends.” It is not only, it will be observed, the idea of dependence among the parts which is here expressed; this 129 would not form an advance beyond the formerly considered phenomena of matter. There is a beautifully coherent dependence between the several particles of a crystal. But the definition of Kant expresses further an adjustment or dependence between all the different parts of an organised body, so as to subserve the definite purpose of maintaining the whole body; and not only so, but the further idea that the maintenance of the whole is essential to the maintenance of any of the parts. It expresses, in short, the fact of a constantly subsisting relation between all the parts on which the subsistence of the whole depends. Such an interacting relation does not exist between the several parts of an inorganised body. We can, on the contrary, break up a crystal, as we have seen, even indefinitely, without destroying its primitive constitutive form. But let us take to pieces a plant, and, destroying the living relation between the parts, we destroy the organism. Organisation, in its simplest appearance, presents, therefore, a more complex and delicate—so to speak—a more subtle and essential species of order than any which we have hitherto contemplated.

In this mere fact of organisation furnishing us with a farther and more refined example of order, we have an additional illustrative evidence of Divine intelligence. We recognise, with impressive force, the artist, in the higher specimen of art before us. To the query, Whence? which immediately arises here, as in the contemplation of all order, we are carried, in answer, irresistibly back to a supremely intelligent Will.

But is this all the theistic inference impressed upon us in 130 the contemplation of organic phenomena? Is not design in some sense peculiarly present in such phenomena? Physiology has been commonly supposed to be the special sphere of the doctrine of final causes, and its study held to possess a special interest and value in this respect. It will be well to set clearly before the reader the distinctive relation of this branch of the illustrative evidence to that presented by the simple phenomena of inorganic matter, especially as this relation has not always been apprehended in a just and discriminating light.

First of all, then, it seems undoubted that the phenomena of organisation do possess a certain peculiar impressiveness in regard to the theistic argument. Merely as examples of a higher and more curiously related order, they are, to many minds at least, peculiarly suggestive of creative intelligence. The elaborate texture and delicately-wrought colouring of vegetable forms, or again, the manifold and complex felicities of animal structures, may be conceived more vividly pregnant with the idea of design, of wisdom concerned in the result, than even the most perfect and mathematically regular combinations of inorganic matter. In this view Paley’s often-impugned comparison—the boldly-struck key-note of his delightful work—may be so far justified. Taking the stone gathered from the heath on the one hand, and the watch on the other, there can be no doubt that the absolute contrast which he institutes between them is not to be defended. The stone is by no means destitute of those marks of workmanship which we recognise so immediately in the watch; and to the inquiry, “how the stone came to be there?” these 131marks or characters, on examination, furnish an answer no less decided than the special adjustment of the several parts of a watch does as to its origin. Supposing the stone were a crystal, we have seen how skilfully configured is such an inorganic product; supposing it only a rude mass of sandstone, without symmetry of form or beauty of lustre, it yet appears, in the light of Dalton’s great discovery, to be an exquisitely-arranged compound; and its special composition, whatever that might be, would be full of reply as to its origin. Paley’s comparison, therefore, fails when pushed to the extent which he has implied; but, when used as merely serving to bring before the popular mind a more impressive exhibition of design, it is sufficiently valid. A watch, with its complicated mechanism of wheels and pulleys and springs, causing a definite motion in a definite time, is apparently the result of greater skill than any mineral composition, however exact. So at least it would doubtless seem to most minds. In the same way, any flower or animal structure of peculiar delicacy and utility may be thought to speak of God more plainly than even the most beautiful and elaborate crystalline structure.

But farther than this—beyond such a higher utility in the way of popular illustration—we cannot admit that organic phenomena by themselves exhibit any peculiar theistic meaning. They express the inference of design more conspicuously, but this is all. This, we imagine, is incapable of being disputed, on reflection. At the same time, it appears to us that considerable confusion and inconsequence of thought prevail upon this subject even among 132some of our highest scientific thinkers. The relation of the doctrine of final causes, in its fundamental theological import,, to the special scientific application which has been made of it in physiology, is not apprehended with sufficient clearness; and a certain measure of doubt has been thus allowed to rest on the subject, which seems to us perverting, and even fatal, in reference to the general principle. Dr Whewell, for example, has observed: “It has appeared to some persons that the mere aspect of order and symmetry in the works of nature—the contemplation of comprehensive and consistent law—is sufficient to lead us to the conception of a design and intelligence producing the order and carrying into effect the law. Without here attempting to decide whether this is true, we may discern, after what has been said, that the conception of design arrived at in this manner is altogether different from that idea of design which is suggested to us by organised bodies, and which we describe as the doctrine of final causes. The regular form of a crystal, whatever beautiful symmetry it may exhibit, whatever general laws it may exemplify, does not prove design in the same manner in which design is proved by the provisions for the preservation and growth of the seeds of plants and of the young of animals. The law of universal gravitation, however wide and simple, does not impress us with the belief of a purpose, as does that propensity by which the two sexes of each animal are brought together.”6666   Indications of the Creator, p. 130.

There is, according to what we have already said, a certain measure of truth in this passage. The law of gravitation 133does not impress us with the belief of purpose and design in the same degree, perhaps, as does that “propensity by which the two sexes of each animal are brought together;” but surely there is nothing altogether different in the idea of design in the two cases. It may be, that in the one case the idea presents itself to our sensuous observation more vividly, and is therefore entitled to guide us in our scientific researches into physiological relations, in a way that would be apt rather to mislead than assist the astronomer in his researches among the heavenly bodies. Design, in short, may not be with the astronomer, as with the physiologist, an appropriate principle of discovery. The former does not take it with him directly as a guide. The lower principle of mere sequential induction sufficiently serves his purpose. Yet if the higher principle be a reality and not a fiction, it must meet the astronomer equally in the end. He must ascend to it. He cannot rest, according to our whole previous reasoning, in the mere relation of sequence with which he sets out. The physiologist, on the other hand, may be said to start with the principle of design in possession, as a clue of discovery; for the phenomena with which he deals are no longer merely sequential, but teleological. They express themselves not only as related, but as related after the special manner of means and ends. The principle of design has therefore, it may be granted, a special application to these phenomena. So at least it has been maintained by many of our highest physiologists, and with apparent justice. Whereas in the one case it is only the final answer to the inevitable inquiry, 134 Whence? in the other it is present from the first, everywhere suggesting the inquiry, Why?

Yet it must never be forgotten that design is only thus present in the latter case, because found in all cases, in relation to one class of phenomena as well as to another—inorganic as well as organic—to establish itself as the only final principle of explanation. It is only possibly present as a scientific guide, because admitted as a theological principle. It is only in the light of the ultimate rational necessity which finds Mind everywhere in nature, that design, or the operation of Mind, can be especially maintained in organic phenomena. This follows in the clearest manner from the whole basis of our previous reasoning, and is indubitable on the simple ground, that nature in no case of itself can gave us Mind, but only reflects it in the mirror of our consciousness. And assuredly there is no rational basis on which we can conclude Mind to be thus reflected in one set of natural phenomena and not in another. Now it is because the language of Dr Whewell leaves this, as it were, in doubt, that it appears to us objectionable. He puts aside the question as to whether the mere aspect of order and symmetry in nature is sufficient to lead us to the conception of design and intelligence; or, in other words, demands this conception in order to its explanation. He puts aside this question as one not necessarily affecting the special scientific doctrine of final causes; whereas, according to our whole view, it is one most vitally affecting this doctrine, and without a clear settlement of which, this doctrine cannot for a moment be consistently maintained.

135

The only theistic difference, then, in the phenomena now before us, consists in the more vivid impression of Mind which they give us. In the very conception of a set of organs related to one another as means to ends, we have intelligence directly suggested. The contrivance bespeaks a contriver, yet only a contriver adequate to the special result in each case. While here, therefore, we may be said to be brought more immediately into the presence of Mind, it may yet be doubted whether we are brought so near to the first or supreme Mind as among the general laws of astronomy and chemistry. The comparative value of the respective phenomena for the theistic conclusion may in this way truly admit of question; and we can easily understand how some minds feel themselves more directly borne onward to this conclusion in the ultimate region of inorganic order, than while merely tarrying amid the crowded and endless intricacies of organic contrivance.

The true view seems to be, that the study of the latter phenomena is more useful in educating and strengthening within us the ideas of Divine wisdom and goodness; the contemplation of the former, in carrying us backwards to a great First Cause. The element of intelligence, already lying at the root of the theistic conception, is set forth in clear and engaging brightness by the variedly curious and beautiful phenomena of organic nature; while, in the nature of the case, the evidence for the Divine goodness only emerges as we travel onwards to the facts of sentient organism.6767   See subsequent chapter on “Sensation.” The higher complicacy of physiological order stamps on our 136minds more impressively the fact of the Divine wisdom; while the subserviency of this order to ends of happiness in the animal creation, brings before us the beneficence of the Designer.

Our illustrative evidence, while resting from the outset on the same logical basis, thus truly gathers force and comprehensiveness for our special conclusion as it proceeds. Setting out with the theistic conception in its most naked form, it clothes itself with the full attributes of that conception, as it expatiates over a wider and more diversified field of induction.

137
« Prev § II.—Chapter V. Organisation—Design. Next »
VIEWNAME is workSection