Venerable Bede relates, in his history of England's conversion to the Faith, how Edwin, king of Northumbria, one day called together his Thanes to consult with them about the advisability of embracing the Christian religion. Whilst the council was in session, one of the most influential Thanes stated his opinion on the matter in hand as follows: "Often, O king, in the depth of winter, while you are feasting with your Thanes, and the fire is blazing on the hearth, you have seen a sparrow pelted by the storm enter one door and escape by the other. During its passage it was visible, but whence it came or whither it went, you knew not. Such, it seems to me, is the life of man. He walks the earth for a few years; but what precedes his birth, or what is to follow after death, he cannot tell. Undoubtedly, if the new religion can unfold these important secrets, it must be worthy of your attention, and it ought to be followed."
The new religion, or Christianity, has unfolded the important secrets of man's origin and destiny, but this notwithstanding, the uncertainty of King Edward's worthy Thane is even now disquieting the hearts of many. To our forebears, good and simple folk, the Mosaic account of man's creation was quite satisfactory, but as the world grew older, there arose a generation of men who considered themselves wiser than their elders, and in their superior wisdom they shook their heads and asked: "How can this thing be?" They could well believe that man had been taken out of the slime of the earth, but that God should have breathed into his face a living soul, passed all belief. For whence did that soul come? Was it made out of nothing? If so, then must be admitted that other statement of the Jewish Chronicler, namely, that "God created man to his own image; to the image of God he created him: male and female he created them."{1} Yet "this is a hard saying, and who can hear it?" Hence they have rejected the teaching of Christianity concerning this point, and have tried hard to unfold the secrets of man's origin and destiny after their own fashion; but somehow their fashion leaves the heart of man unsatisfied, and so the world repeats in aimless reverie the little speech of King Edwin's Thane: "Man walks the earth for a few years; but what precedes his birth, or what is to follow after death, he cannot tell."
Hence in the first part of this treatise we shall endeavor to show that the Holy Book is right when it states that "God created man to his own image." However, in working out the proof of this proposition, it is first of all necessary to understand well what manner of being man is; for as the nature of a being is determined by its origin, man's nature must necessarily point to the source whence he came. To acquire this knowledge of man's nature, we must, of course, study those actions which are proper to him as man. It is a common saying among philosophers that a being is known by its own proper actions;{2} and this saying is fully approved by common sense. Thus, for example, when I see a horse galloping along a highway, I gather from that very fact that a horse is essentially different from the trees that line the same highway, but are rooted to the soil. Or when I notice a grain of wheat send forth a tiny sprout, which little by little grows up into a stalk, and within a few months produces other grains of wheat, I rightly and necessarily infer that wheat is something altogether different from the pebbles which are imbedded in the same soil, yet always remain the same. If, therefore, we can find some actions that are proper to man, we shall have a key which will enable us to unlock the secrets of his nature.
Here, however, we meet with an apparent difficulty; for man, as the ancients put it, is a microcosm, that is, he combines in himself the properties of all other beings that make up the world around us. Like mineral substances, he is subject to the laws of space and time; he is affected by heat and cold; is acted upon by the forces of attraction and repulsion, and in a variety of other ways shows his kinship with the earth that serves him as a dwelling place. He likewise shares in the peculiarities of the vegetable kingdom. Even as the acorn which is planted in the soil, and under the influence of warmth and moisture displays an activity of a higher order, by means of which it transforms itself little by little into a tiny sprout, and then by years of patient and mysterious toil develops into the stately proportions of a lordly oak; so does the human body, starting from a mere speck of protoplasm, build up cell by cell and part by part its own organism, until it arrives at full perfection and stands revealed to the world a marvel of grace and strength and beauty. Nor has man less in common with the animal world. He eats and drinks and sleeps, even as does the horse which he rides, and the dog that sports at his side. He has the same organs and faculties of sight and hearing and touch; he experiences animal pleasures and sufferings, and propagates his species like unto the beasts and birds that serve for his enjoyment and lucre. He is thus, in very truth, a microcosm, a little world, "from different natures marvelously mixed."
And yet, though man has so much in common with the different orders of other mundane beings, between him and them there is drawn a sharp line of demarcation. In a general way, this differentiation manifests itself in three distinct ways. First, in a more or less continuous progress along the various lines of human activity; second, in the use of rational language; third, in the fact of religion.
That man is by nature progressive, must be evident to every thoughtful observer. Even those among us who have not yet reached the Scriptural three-score years and ten, can tell of advancements the various arts and sciences that would pass belief, had we not the testimony of our own experience to convince us of the truth. Even now we live in the midst of progress. Rapid advance is made in every art and science; new industries spring into life, are steadily developed, and become the source of fabulous wealth to individuals and to nations; inventions the most astounding give rise to marvels of science that almost rival the wonders of nature; luxuries unknown to the preceding generation have entered as necessities into our daily lives: -- land and sea are covered with the achievements of this spirit of progress.
Now this spirit of progress is entirely wanting in other mundane beings. In respect to animals, which alone need be considered in this matter, the Rev. J. O'Neill, in his answer to Mr. Mallock, puts this very pithily when he says: "Truly, they seem not of us: they do not even appear to realize that things are changing around them: they are heedless of the feverish rush of humanity towards the goal of happiness. It has ever been so with them. Never through the roll of centuries have they shown any personal initiative. From the first they have shivered as men did when the bitter blasts blew, and when the frost and snow encircled them; from the first they have had certain tasks to fulfil, and when the sun set and darkness came down, they, too, like men, betook themselves to rest. They must have felt the same need of physical comfort as men did; yet, they never lit a fire against the winter's cold, never donned a garment to keep out the sleet, never built a shelter for the night, never made a tool to help them at their toil. They have lived as long, and longer, than man on the earth. Yet, at all times, and in all places, uniformity and stability have marked the conduct of individuals within each species. No progress, no change."
The same difference obtains in regard to rational language. With what nicety does not the human voice portray in articulate speech man's ever changing mental condition! How marvelously it accommodates itself to the endless variety of feelings that affect the human heart! What wealth of thought and sentiment flows from tongue and pen as individuals and nations each play their several parts upon the stage of life! And this is absolutely without parallel in the history of the dumb animals that watch man's ways in all his various moods. They can, indeed, give signs of pleasure and pain, yet their barkings and bleatings and whinnyings are not a whit more rational than the clanging notes of the clavichord. Hence no species of animals ever produce orators or singers or musicians that rise above their fellows as a Webster or Patti or Mozart rose above the common level of human excellence. They may utter loud reverberating sounds, or pour forth their souls in sweetest melody, yet as far as rational expression is concerned, they ever remain dumb as the Egyptian sphinx. Nor is the line less sharply drawn in the matter of religious sentiments. Even the lowest savage of the human kind has some notion of a Supreme Being;{3} he knows the difference between right and wrong, and expects a life of happiness beyond the silence of the tomb. Men may be very unreligious in their outward showing, yet they cannot effectively silence the voice of conscience, which proclaims in trumpet tones their duties to the Godhead. They may for a time amuse themselves exclusively with worldly trifles, but there ever remains in their hearts a void which no things of earth can fill. They know that they were born for higher things, though passion may prompt them to repress such knowledge. Do animals possess sentiments of a like nature? Are they conscious that they must bow in reverence to the Great Spirit, who scatters His blessings broadcast over field and forest? They certainly manifest no sign of such inward promptings. There is not found among them a single individual that rises above the things of sense; not one that sacrifices present enjoyments for future glory. They eat their fill and dream their dreams, and care not what may be their future state.
Now this marked difference between the activities of man and animals postulates an essential difference in their natures. There must be something in the constitution of man that essentially differentiates him from all other beings. For a being's nature must correspond to its own proper activity. And what is this something? If we take the main points of difference between man and brute beasts, we find that there is always question of some sort of spiritual activity, that is, an activity which is independent of matter. Thus take progress in its different forms; it necessarily implies a faculty that is capable of forming general ideas and universal concepts; a faculty that enables man to reflect upon his own actions, and to form abstract judgments. In order to span the gulf, for instance, that separates the lumbering steam carriage of seventy years ago from the "Lightning Express" of to-day, there was need of an amount of abstract reasoning and mathematical calculation that seems beyond all belief when looked at in its final summation. And so it is in every other line of progressive activity. Wherever there is progress the cognoscitive faculty bodies forth an ideal which has no actual existence as an individual entity, but represents a combination of concepts that are the result of a spiritualizing process.
Nor is this intellectual activity less apparent in the use of rational language; for such "language implies the transference of thoughts" that are spiritual in their nature. In fact, our whole system of education is based upon the transference of Spiritual ideas. How could the professor possibly train his pupils in the arts and sciences, or impart to them a right apprehension of the duties of good citizenship, if he could not by means of rational speech convey to their minds his own ideals? Yet ideals, as already shown, go beyond the range of sense perception.
It is the same in respect to religion. There can be no religion without spiritual ideas. Before man recognizes even the Possibility of Worship, he must have a concept of a Supreme Being, a Divine Person, Who in one way or another has called human nature into existence. He must understand the meaning of virtue and vice, of law and order, of reward and punishment Yet all this implies intellectuality; it postulates something beyond a faculty that is merely capable of forming sensible images.
Hence that which distinguishes man from brute animals is the capacity of spiritual operation -- the capacity of eliciting acts which are independent of concrete material conditions. Perhaps you say, for aught we know, animals may also be possessed of such capacities. They are not. For if they were they must show it by their actions. A power that is never actuated is useless, and cannot be conferred by nature; because nature does not act uselessly. Yet no animal has ever exhibited signs of intellectuality.{4} There has never been any progress in individuals or classes; there is no sign of rational speech; no indication of religious sentiment. The sum total of their activity is confined to the range of sense perception, and hence their highest faculties are necessarily identified with their bodily senses. Now this intellectual activity which is proper to man postulates a spiritual soul, that is, a simple, inextended, and indivisible entity, really distinct from man's body. If any part of the human body be subjected to chemical analysis, it is found to consist of the same elements that are present in lifeless matter. It contains carbon and phosphorus and oxygen and hydrogen, besides other elementary substances in various proportions. And that these elementary substances, no matter how "marvelously mixed," cannot produce spiritual ideas is quite manifest from the nature of the case. Spiritual ideas are simple entities; they have no extension, no parts, no shape, no form; they cannot be halved and quartered as can the elements of which man's body is composed. They are absolutely indivisible, and therefore independent of matter. Consequently that part of man which thinks and judges must be simple, without parts, and indivisible; because, as was stated before, the nature of a being is of the same kind as the actions which it elicits.
The presence of such a simple element in man becomes more evident still from the fact that the mental faculty can reflect upon itself and watch its own actions. The mind not only thinks and judges, but it is conscious of these operations, and contemplates its entire self as it compares concept with concept and finally identifies them in an affirmative judgment. Any one who will take the trouble may verify this for himself by examining into his own mental actions. Now this would be altogether impossible if either the faculty or its acts were extended, or had parts. In an extended being one part may be applied to another, but the whole cannot be turned back upon itself; nor can the quality which inheres one part be identified with the quality which inheres another. Hence as the eye cannot turn back upon itself and see its own vision just because it is extended, so, contrariwise, the mind can reflect upon itself and know its own knowledge just because it is not extended. Hence there is in man a simple element which is in its operation, and therefore in its being, independent of the body; and that element is man's soul, spiritual in its nature as in its highest activity.
This same conclusion is reached when we consider the moral side of man's nature; for this postulates in him an element that is endowed with freedom of choice.{5} If man were not free, there would be no distinction between virtue and vice, and courts of justice would be a mockery. Does the plank that saves the life of a shipwrecked mariner practice virtue? Does the brick that falls from the scaffolding and kills a chance passer-by commit murder? Would you reward the one and punish the other? Yet if man is not free, his actions are morally in the same category as that of the floating plank and the falling brick; and every reward bestowed and punishment inflicted would be an outrage against nature. Nay, if man were not free, nature would contradict herself. For some men say that man was created, others assert that he was not created; some maintain that there is a God, others contend that there is no God; and if men are not free, their statements are the necessary utterances of nature; yet they are contradictory statements and consequently, on the supposition that man is not free, nature contradicts herself; nature a liar -- an imputation which the men against whom we are arguing would be the very first to resent. On the other hand, man's body is not free; for that body is matter; it is composed of the same elements as the stone which you fling at a dog, or the clod of earth you spurn with your foot. Of itself it is lifeless, inanimate, brute matter; and matter under any given conditions can act but one way; it is not free; it has no choice; it must act as it does and cannot act otherwise. Therefore there is in man an element that is essentially different from his body: an element endowed with intelligence and freedom, and that element is man's soul.
Moreover, the mere fact that man has a soul, which is really distinct from his body, is quite evident from what science teaches concerning the continuous changes that take place in man's bodily constitution. Scientists tell us that within the space of about seven years our bodily substance is totally renewed, so that, if we had no souls, we should be entirely different individuals from those we were seven years ago. We should be no longer the sons and daughters of the fathers and mothers who cared for us so tenderly in our childhood days. Mothers might as well caress a piece of furniture as the lovely daughter just budding into maidenhood, for that daughter would be to her a total stranger. Again, if we had no souls, it would be impossible to remember past events since the happening of which more than seven years had elapsed; because the very substance upon which said events made an impression would have disappeared from the human constitution. And still our memories go back to earliest childhood days, even though we may have reached our three-score years and ten. Hence we certainly have a soul; a something which is not matter, but which in the continuous flux of material elements ever preserves its own identity. It is true, this fact in itself does not show that our souls are spiritual in their nature, yet as our own consciousness tells us that we remember not only concrete and material facts, but also spiritual thoughts and abstract judgments, the spirituality of our souls can in no wise be doubted. Hence this argument re-enforces those which were given before though they were of themselves strong enough to prove the matter in hand. Consequently though man contains within himself all the perfections of purely material beings, yet to these he adds others that reach up into the spirit world. Half spirit, half matter, he is in contact with both heaven and earth. In the words of the poet, he is
From different natures marvelously mixed;
Connection exquisite of distant worlds:
Dim miniature of greatness absolute --
An heir of glory, a frail child of dust.
18 RELIGION IN GENERAL -->
It is by reason of his spiritual soul that man stands forth as the acknowledged lord and ruler of the earth's vast domain. In bodily perfection he is surpassed by many a brute beast that quails before him in craven fear. He has neither the immense strength of the lion nor the ponderous weight of the elephant, yet both are made to do his bidding, and serve him as his obsequious slaves. It is not the strength of his arm nor the endurance of his bodily frame, but the greater power of his intellect and will, that makes nature and nature's forces subservient to his purposes; and these he possesses in virtue of his spiritual soul.
{1} Gen. I,
{2} A very striking illustration of this axiom is found in the late Dr. Dwight's Thoughts of a Catholic Anatomist, p. 118 foll. He takes the case of a white-hot bolt falling successively Upon inanimate matter, upon a plant, an animal, and a man. The acting cause is in each case the same, the white-hot bolt, but the actions originating in the different beings affected by this cause are essentially different, and as such they necessarily indicate an essential difference of nature in these beings.
{3} The truth of this statement, which is sometimes called in question, was recently very clearly demonstrated by Mgr. A. Le Roy, in an article on "The Religions of the Primitive Races," which forms the opening chapter of the fifth volume of The History of Religions.
{4} For a thorough treatment of this subject the reader is referred to Father Wasmann's, Instinct and Intelligence in the Animal Kingdom.
{5} The much discussed question of freedom of choice is lucidly treated in a recent work by Rev. Hubert Gruender, S. J., entitled, Free Will. In another able work, Psychology Without a Soul, the same author points out the glaring contradictions involved in those modern philosophical systems which assume the non-existence of a spiritual soul, intrinsically independent of matter.