arguments are very different; but they are all quite
logical and legitimate; and they all converge.
The only objection to them (I discover) is that they
are all untrue. If you leave off looking at books
about beasts and men, if you begin to look at beasts
and men then (if you have any humour or imagination,
any sense of the frantic or the farcical) you will
observe that the startling thing is not how like man
is to the brutes, but how unlike he is. It is
the monstrous scale of his divergence that requires
an explanation. That man and brute are like is,
in a sense, a truism; but that being so like they should
then be so insanely unlike, that is the shock and
the enigma. That an ape has hands is far less
interesting to the philosopher than the fact that having
hands he does next to nothing with them; does not play
knuckle-bones or the violin; does not carve marble
or carve mutton. People talk of barbaric architecture
and debased art. But elephants do not build colossal
temples of ivory even in a roccoco style; camels do
not paint even bad pictures, though equipped with
the material of many camel’s-hair brushes.
Certain modern dreamers say that ants and bees have
a society superior to ours. They have, indeed,
a civilisation; but that very truth only reminds us
that it is an inferior civilisation. Who ever
found an ant-hill decorated with the statues of celebrated
ants? Who has seen a bee-hive carved with the
images of gorgeous queens of old? No; the chasm
between man and other creatures may have a natural
explanation, but it is a chasm. We talk of wild
animals; but man is the only wild animal. It
is man that has broken out. All other animals
are tame animals; following the rugged respectability
of the tribe or type. All other animals are domestic
animals; man alone is ever undomestic, either as a
profligate or a monk. So that this first superficial
reason for materialism is, if anything, a reason for
its opposite; it is exactly where biology leaves off
that all religion begins.
It would be the same if I examined the second of the
three chance rationalist arguments; the argument that
all that we call divine began in some darkness and
terror. When I did attempt to examine the foundations
of this modern idea I simply found that there were
none. Science knows nothing whatever about pre-historic
man; for the excellent reason that he is pre-historic.
A few professors choose to conjecture that such things
as human sacrifice were once innocent and general and
that they gradually dwindled; but there is no direct
evidence of it, and the small amount of indirect evidence
is very much the other way. In the earliest legends
we have, such as the tales of Isaac and of Iphigenia,
human sacrifice is not introduced as something old,
but rather as something new; as a strange and frightful
exception darkly demanded by the gods. History
says nothing; and legends all say that the earth was
kinder in its earliest time. There is no tradition
of progress; but the whole human race has a tradition
of the Fall. Amusingly enough, indeed, the very
dissemination of this idea is used against its authenticity.
Learned men literally say that this pre-historic calamity
cannot be true because every race of mankind remembers
it. I cannot keep pace with these paradoxes.