“IT is not in man to direct his steps!” So wrote the Psalmist—words inspired by the Spirit of the Almighty, and confirmed by the bitter experience of mankind before and since those days. The only one who has fully directed his steps along the path of life is the Lord Jesus Christ, who by reason of his perfection is now at the right hand of God’s power. All others have fallen short, individually and nationally. Yet so blind is man to his own short-comings that he sets himself up as the Lord of Creation who will soon have enough knowledge and power to rule his own destiny.
How different is the rest of animate creation! Bernard Acworth, the founder of the Evolution Protest Movement, in the preface of his book Butterfly Miracles and Mysteries draws the comparison in no uncertain words. Between natural history and human history there is a great gulf fixed. The history of a butterfly by a competent observer of 100 years ago, or 3,500, is found to be identical with its history to-day. Its story is one of sustained perfection. In this conection Holland, in his book on North American butterflies, remarks that the fossil butterflies found show a very close affinity to genera existing at the present . . . This affinity of type is certainly remarkable in creatures so lowly in their organisation. The butterflies depicted in the Theban frescoes the British Museum, though the outlines are blurred, are representations of an orange and black species which is to be seen flitting over Egypt to-day.
But what of the history of Man? No matter how we strive for perfection of health, of beauty, of contentment or of anything else, we lamentably fail where a Camberwell Beauty or a Red Admiral, shall we say, so marvellously succeeds in living at the pinnacle of its humble being. How can we account for this, other than by admitting, that whereas fallen Man is a product of his own conception and imaginations, the creatures of the field are obedient to the perfect, and therefore fixed, laws of their being without any say by themselves in the matter.
The truth is, Man is an abnormality. As Philip Mauro has truly said, Man cannot fail to perceive, if he uses to any purpose his powers of observation and reflection, that Man is abnormal in that, among all the orders of living creatures, he alone lives far below the possibilities of his nature. All other species of living creatures are in this respect manifestly normal. He alone has somehow missed his way; has suffered a permanent impairment of his capabilities. And this is true of every member of his species.
This abnormality is the more remarkable and significant because Man is the only creature that is capable of forming a concept of perfection, and the only creature that has a standard of conduct. How comes it, then, that the only race of beings among the innumerable tribes of earth that has the capacity for moral distinctions is likewise the only race that habitually does what is injurious to himself and others of his kind? For men habitually abuse themselves and their powers, and do injury to their health, and jeopardise and shorten their lives by indulgences of one sort and another.
What a contrast in this respect between men and the brutes! For among all the species and varieties of the latter, there is not the slightest observable tendency to depart from those habits and ways of life that are conducive to creature welfare. Man, in short, is a creature spoilt, though many still regard him as a god unfinished.
It is certainly hard to conceive how a Peacock, a Friillary, a Swallowtail, a Painted Lady, or indeed any butterfly, could improve its beauty, or advantageously change its ways, or improve upon its established manner of life.
How different is man who, alone endowed with a sense of beauty and with a craving for it, is not merely dissatisfied with his own appearance, but is even, and with good reason, ashamed of it. And because of this, men and women ransack all nature, rob other creatures of furs, wings and feathers, and exhaust the resources of art and industry in the vain endeavour to give themselves a tolerably pleasing appearance.
If ‘Go to the ant ‘ is a wise proverb for a man, ‘Go to the Painted Lady’ is not a bad one for a woman.
Such reflections bring us to one of the most striking and significant of the differences between Man and other living creatures, and one which should humble some of our natural historians and philosophers who, it sometimes seems to the author, are over-apt to exalt themselves and their cleverness in the presence of the wonders of nature.
As Mauro has pointed out, with the sole exception of human beings, all creatures having life, whether in earth, sea or air, are supplied with a beautiful, comfortable, appropriate, adaptable and perfectly fitting suit of clothes. Their garments never become dingy or threadbare, never get out of fashion, and, in short, are so perfect fIevery way that it would be impossible to devise an improvement upon them. How come it that Man, with the significant exception of the worm, is the only unclad creature in nature This seems to the author, as it does to Philip Mauro, to be a fact worthy of the profoundest reflection of some of our modern philosophers and biologians. And of all creatures on this earth, which provide more shining examples of adornment? and of the triumphant survival of the weak? than frail and lovely butterflies which, from infancy to old age, arouse the wonder, delight and interest of those with eyes to see, minds to think, and lips to praise.
But the physical and intellectual pleasure to be derived from the beauty and brightness of these creatures is immeasurably reinforced with astonishment, if not with awe, when we learn something of the inner history of these insects which the patient and brilliant studies of many specialists in this branch of natural history, armed with lenses, have made available to mankind.”
Study of the Scriptures gives the reason for man’s default. ‘The heart is deceitful above all things and desperately wicked!’
When once he recognises this fact, it becomes possible to cultivate that most desirable trait of humility—a trait which is essential if we are to appreciate the wonders of the Creation. Practically all the great men of science of bygone centuries had this humility in the face of Nature, and indeed there are still many who stand awestruck by the beauty and wonder of their discoveries. The pity is that many of those who believe in the Creator are too diffident about acknowledging their belief in their writings.
We Spend too Much Time Ridiculing Evolution