The interpretation of nature

Front matter

LIBRARY

Brigham Young University

Prof. J. M. Jensen

I

el interpreter, I take it, is one whose business

itis to disclose or unfold meaning. In the commonest use of the word he is one who translates for us what is expressed in a language which we do not understand. The hieroglyphics of Egypt were for long a sealed book until the Rosetta stone afforded a clue to their interpretation. When a passage in some old author is obscure we call in a scholar to interpret its meaning for us. Although in this case we partially understand the passage, we feel that more remains behind; some touch of insight, some delicate turn of thought, which needs an illuminating ray of deeper penetration to reveal and make clear to our duller perception a value which we have failed to grasp. Here then we have not only meaning for the intellect, but worth for our esthetic appreciation of beauty in thought or expression. To the man of artistic temperament, the truest and best interpretation is that which discloses with the greatest richness and subtlety the fundamental harmonies of the subject with which it deals. Thus in the realm of music the of worthy interpreter is the executant who can most adequately bring home to us the wealth of majestic or tender feeling which a Beethoven or a Brahms has bequeathed to the world; and in the dramatic sphere the interpretative skill of the actor is seen in his power of revealing — hidden depths of pathos or of humour in the character whose part he plays. But there is yet another aspect of the interpreter’s office— the end or purpose of the communication. Of old dreams were regarded as messages sent to. warn or to incite to action; and we read that ‘‘ Pharaoh told his dreams, but there was none that could interpret them unto him.” Here is the message; but for what purpose is it sent ?

These elementary considerations serve to — disclose the threefold character of interpretation in relation to the affairs of human hfe: first, in terms of meaning within the sphere of know- \ledge; secondly, in terms of esthetic appeal ‘within the sphere of emotion; thirdly, in terms _ of end within the sphere of purpose.

We shall probably all agree that the interpretation of nature is the disclosing or unfolding of its hidden meaning. But meaning in what sense? For the artist as such and the man of science as such, and again the theologian as such, the emphasis will differ. To the artist j the zsthetic appeal will predominate; to the man of science the appeal will be primarily intellectual; to the theologian the central note is that of purpose or design. I think we may say that for the average man of general culture, an interpretation of nature which combines all three elements is alone satisfying.

~~

The Interpretation of Nature. L

We often have occasion to notice how the average man of general culture, not specially versed in the methods of science, accepts the explanations of, let us say, the biologist with a characteristic teleological bias. He will cordially agree that no adequate interpretation of the colours, markings, and forms of certain insects could be reached until the advantage of ‘protective resemblance, or of mimicry, had been established. But press him to give some expansion to his view of the matter, and you will probably find that he will explain protective resemblance in terms of purpose. He will say that it is developed so as to enable the insect to remain hidden from the birds or other animals which would prey upon it. That, from his predominantly teleological point of view, is the end for which protective resemblance has been developed. In strictness, however, the scientific explanation of protective resemblance is given in reference, not to its teleological end, but to its mode of origin. Here is an insect which exhibits such resemblance, say, to a leaf or stick. How did it originate? It exists because the insect inherits the form and markings of its parents, which, through the possession of such form and markings, remained hidden and thus survived, while others, more conspicuous to their captors, were destroyed and left no offspring. The resemblance is interpreted as the result of certain foregoing circumstances and conditions. The insect escapes because it has such form and markings; it was not given | protective resemblance in order that it might escape. This retrospective outlook towards to The Interpretation of Nature.

antecedent conditions is characteristic of the scientific attitude, the prospective attitude being that of expectation of what will be the sequel to present conditions. Thus the geologist interprets scenery, not as that the purpose of which is to appeal to our sense of beauty or grandeur, but in terms of foregoing denudation. He explains the mode of origin of narrow or spacious valleys, of craggy heights or rounded hills, of bay and promontory, headland and fiord, as the result of the fretting of streams, the persistent influence of rain, the effects of frost, the dash of sea waves, or the grinding action of glaciers on rocks of differing hardness or resisting power. The botanist explains the gorgeous tints of autumn as an incident in the waning vitality of the forest trees when the warmth of summer gives place to the chill of early winter frosts. Each interprets the phenomena in terms of those circumstances and conditions to which he applies the term causation.

To say that the man in the street is uninfluenced by the scientific interpretation o nature which leads onward to naturalism would be to say that he is out of touch with the tendencies of his age. This is just what he is not, as- I conceive: him. He is. a very chameleon in his sensitiveness to varied intellectual, esthetic, and religious or quasi-religious influences. But just for this very reason he does not take his colour from science alone. And I do not think I am far wrong in assuming that the interpretation of nature which most strongly appeals to him is one that combines the three modes I have distinguished. In

The Interpretation of Nature. tt support of this view I would adduce as un- _ biased evidence the testimony of the publisher who puts on the market a pretty constant supply of that kind of literature of which the man in the street will show his appreciation by purchase.

There is a class of book at present much in vogue, so much so as to afford a fair indication of what most strongly appeals to the average man, wherein are to be found pleasing descriptions of nature in garden, field, and hedgerow, at the pond side, by the seashore, in woodland glade, or on the undulating moorland tract watered by mists and copious dews. Delicate word-pictures and artistic illustrations conjure up before our eyes the chestnut in its glory of summer bloom, the autumn tints of beech and elm, the meadows golden with buttercups, the orchard laden with ripening fruit, the blackbird pouring forth his full rich notes, the little brown wren slipping in and out among the hedge sprays, the hovering kestrel or the soaring lark, the badger in his lair, the watervole beneath the stream’s overhanging bank, the dragon-fly darting. over the rushes, the whirligig beetles in their mazy dance, the murmur of innumerable bees, and all the varied life of the countryside. One of their leading aims is to help us to see what we should otherwise pass unnoticed, to stimulate our interest, and, if it may be, to charm us by the fidelity of their reproduction of scenes associated with hours of relaxation. But they also skilfully utilise some of the facts and theories established by science. Geology, botany, zoology are laid under contribution; even physics and chemistry are administered in small doses. But for the most part only such admixture of science is tolerated as shall serve to heighten the general effect, or, to put it in another way, the science is subsidiary and contributory to an interpretation which is not meant to be primarily scientific. Furthermore, a subdued note of purpose is generally present and is welcomed by the average man. Indeed, it is scarcely too much to say that for him it is the evidence of design in natural events which bestows on nature-study its central interest and its abiding value. These works serve therefore to exemplify what I have spoken of as the threefold appeal to the plain man.

For him, too, and for the modes of thought and expression which he represents, nature-study and natural science do not include the works of man, still less his mental attributes. _ and his intellectual faculties. The distinction between natural and human products is accepted as an obvious and satisfactory basis of classification. Hence arises an imperium in imperto, a world of art in the midst of the world of nature. I am not sure that the average man thinks out very clearly the relations of the two empires; partly because the distinction is to him so familiar and obvious as to render it scarcely worth while to delimit the territories in any formal manner. He may not find it easy in all cases to say where and how and to what extent human purpose is impressed upon the natural world; but just in so far as that purpose does modify things and

The Interpretation of Nature. T3

- events have we the products of human art or artifice.

Such I conceive to be the outlook of the plain man in approaching the interpretation of nature. Different in two cardinal respects is the outlook of those who accept the teachings of modern naturalism. In the first place man is regarded as a product of natural evolution— a highly specialised product no doubt, but still, body and mind, of natural origin. It is, they will say, sometimes convenient to regard natural products and human or artificial products as belonging to different categories. But it is none the less incontestable that for scientific treatment this is exceedingly inconvenient.

- Just in so far as man does modify things and

events, is he thereby shown to be part of the conditions and circumstances under which such modification occurs. And though it may be obviously convenient to distinguish the links on the one side from those on the other side of this, to us, the central human link, still from a broad and comprehensive point of view we should seek to include all the causal relations of the chain as a whole.

The supernatural interpretation of mental and spiritual phenomena, the exponent of naturalism will urge, is a relic of the days before psychology was recognised as a science working hand in hand with physiology. It is true that psychology is not commonly placed in the category of the natural sciences, and that no one would claim for it a place among the physical sciences. It is true that the chemist, the astronomer, the geologist, in their several contributions to the

X interpretation of nature, wisely take for granted the conscious and intellectual operations by which their results are reached. They assume, and they are quite right in assuming, a frankly objective standpoint. They extract from data somehow presented to the mind the laws of phenomena somehow elaborated by the mind. How presented and how elaborated it is not their special province to determine. But from a broad and catholic point of view we should not restrict the interpretation of nature to the contributions of any particular science, nor to those of any limited group of sciences. The real questions are these: Are the phenomena of consciousness itself closely and intimately related to the phenomena, such as physical events, which are presented in or to consciousness? Are mental products and processes subject to complete interpretation in terms of antecedence and sequence, or in other words are they open to scientific investigation? Granting that an affirmative answer is given, as naturalism asserts that it must be given, to these two questions, are there valid reasons for excluding the phenomena of consciousness from the category of natural occurrences? Naturalism is fully convinced that there are no such reasons; and its logical exponent is bound to urge that our conception of nature should be so far extended as to include those phenomena of consciousness, of which we see or infer the beginnings in the lower animals and the present culmination in mankind. Man is thus part of that nature which we endeavour to interpret on ‘the basis of scientific study. As this is one of the contentions with which we shall be concerned, it may be well to distinguish two forms which it may assume: (1) Man forms part of the naturalistic universe of discourse; (2) within that universe is to be found a complete interpretation of all human aspiration and endeavour.

_ In the second place naturalism is at variance with popular thought in its attitude towards purpose. This is regarded as a product of evolution; whereas the average man regards it as that which directs the evolutionary process. The contention is that there is sufficient evidence of purpose in the sphere of human life and endeavour, and that its natural genesis has to be’ explained; but of purpose in the realm of nature, beyond the sphere of human influence, there is not sufficient evidence. Here again it may be well to distinguish two forms which this contention may assume: (1) Purpose in nature —if such there be—falls outside the naturalistic universe of discourse; (2) such a conception is therefore inadmissible. It is a picturesque relic of the childhood of our race.

We have here what may, I think, be regarded as the radical and fundamental distinction between two opposing and often strongly antagonistic modes of interpreting nature. On the one hand, the human mind, will, purpose, is taken as the basis of interpretation, and in such terms is the meaning of nature explained. On the other hand, the phenomena of nature, as formulated by science, afford, it is said, the only valid foundations on which we can securely build, and in such terms is the human mind itself explained. In the one case the course of

6 The Interpretation of Nature. — procedure is from within outwards, until all nature is pervaded by mind analogous to that which interprets. In the other case the course of procedure is from without inwards, until the mind is explained as the product of molecular motion of a peculiar and exceedingly intricate kind. Let us briefly trace the origin of these two types of interpretation.

II

HERE can be little doubt that among primitive folk the conception of purpose would be freely employed in all matters of social life and intercourse, and in this connection would stand in no need of explanation, since it is that in terms of which explanations are themselves given. A’s purposes are related to B’s purposes; sometimes they run parallel or converge to a given end; often they run counter or diverge; and neither A nor B has the smallest hesitation in referring his neighbour’s deeds to purposes like those by which he is actuated. This requires neither explanation nor logical justification; it is naively accepted as part of the given conditions of tribal life. But there are other actions— natural occurrences as we call them—which also in like manner aid or frustrate his own endeavours. Must not they, too, be expressions of a purpose or purposes? Just in so far as they have any meaning, that assuredly for him is their meaning. Familiar events, the orderly processes oi nature, are by such people accepted as they come; there is no need of interpretation. And so far as any such need 1s dimly felt, the interpretation is always in relation to human endeavour. In early ages and for primitive folk the meaning of this earth was to be the home of man; the sun and moon existed to give him light or to mark his times and seasons. Bird and beast, flower, shrub and tree, directly or indirectly ministered to his needs, and afforded him food or shelter. This was their end or purpose as seen from the brighter side. But there was also the darker side. The earth which was his home presented also obstacles to the attainment of his wishes. From the same sky which gave him warmth and radiance came the lightning flash and thunderbolt. The lion and the wolf were the appointed enemies of his race and ravishers of his flocks and herds. Among the plants or trees with wholesome fruits were bushes with noxious berries. All, however, so far as interpreted at all, is, at this stage of thought, interpreted in terms of meaning directly or indirectly centred in man. Not indeed centred wholly in the individual; for man is a social being; he has friends and enemies; he is a member of a tribe at variance with other tribes. The darkening of the moon during an eclipse no doubt forbodes disaster; but the impending disaster may fall on friend or foe. An interpreter is needed to read the sign and to indicate what is thereby signified. Hence arose the medicine man and the astrologer, who were specialists in such matters.

But as these events were more fully studied by a class of the community specially set aside for their interpretation, they were seen to be interconnected among themselves as well as connected with man’s life and struggle in the world and with his foes. Herein lay the germs of that distinction between diverse interpretations which still contend for predominance—on

The Interpretation of Nature. 1g the one hand the interpretation in terms of purpose, on the other hand that in terms of natural law. But sharp and well-defined as this distinction has grown in these our latter days, at first it only implied somewhat diverse aspects of a continuous line of advance. The observed interconnection among phenomena served chiefly to show how subtle, and how wide in range, was the influence of natural events on human destiny. This may be seen in the close relations which obtained between astrology and astronomy.

The early interpretation of nature, when the initial stages of unification of natural events had been reached, was not only anthropocentric but geocentric. The earth was the stable pivot of a universe the conception of which was taking form in the minds of men—the central point around which sun, moon, planets, and otherwise fixed stars circled in courses which seemed part of the abiding constitution of things. But they were still regarded as fulfilling a purpose. Astronomy, beginning to interpret in terms of natural law, was still closely linked with astrology, interpreting in terms of the earlier conceptions of meaning. The constellations exercised a subtle influence, malign or favouring, on human life—an influence which the astrologer alone could rightly interpret. The sun, moon, and five known planets, for example, influenced in turn the successive hours of the day and night; and after the one which, so to speak, had charge of the first hour, the day was called. Our weekday names are,thus a legacy bequeathed to us by astrology. But it was an astrology containing the germs, or more than the germs, of a scientific knowledge which had already been attained, it is said, not less than four thousand years before Christ. For the order of influence was the order of orbital sweep; and (interchanging the sun and earth in accordance with the geocentric conception) this order was already known correctly—Saturn, Jupiter, Mars, the Sun, Venus, Mercury, the Moon. Now Saturn, with amplest sweep, influences the first hour of the first day, giving it his name—Saturday. The others in due order cast their spell over the succeeding hours, so that, as there are seven in all, Saturn again influences the eighth, fifteenth, and twentysecond hours, Jupiter the twenty-third, Mars the twenty-fourth, and the Sun the first hour of the next day, giving us Sunday. The Sun again influences the eighth, fifteenth, and twentysecond hours, Venus the twenty-third, Mercury the twenty-fourth, and the Moon the first hour of Monday. We thus get a clue to the order of succession; for the Sun is third in sequence after Saturn; the Moon third in sequence after the Sun. Applying this rule of succession to the list of luminaries, we have in due order the remaining days of the week—Mardi (Tuesday), Mercredi (Wednesday), Jeudi (Thursday), and Vendredi (Friday).

Now whether the study of planetary orbits was undertaken chiefly for an astrological purpose, or also, as is probable, for other and what seem to us more practical applications (but still, be it noted, for the purposes of human endeavour), we have here the beginnings (and.

more than the beginnings) of what we should now term scientific knowledge—of interpretation in terms of natural law. Science may, indeed, be said to have arisen cs the middle term between the gaining of direct experience | and its application to the varied needs of human life. So far as we know, man stands alone as interpreter of nature in this or in any other sense. The dumb beasts, with wonderful sagacity, utilise experience for the guidance of behaviour to practical ends. But for them the middle term, even if it can be said to exist with any definiteness, does not disengage itself from sensory experience on the one hand, and the resulting behaviour on the other hand. Man alone seeks to explain; to analyse experience into its elements, and to rebuild these elements in the systematic unity of a scheme of thought; to read particular events in the light of general conceptions. These general conceptions enter into the framework of scientific knowledge. Every branch of science, involving broad generalisations from observed facts, arose in close touch with those human needs to which it could be applied. The end was essentially practical, or in any case purposive, with a distinct bearing on some special phase of human well-being. But as the middle term grew in importance and became an independent centre of human interest it ceased to be regarded only as a means to human ends; or, rather, it may be said to have been raised to ' the level of an end in and for itself. The knowledge gained in different fields was brought into relation; it was slowly organised into a

STAN ]

SEH AINA RTL TIES RS TAI consistent whole; it received a new application, still indeed in accordance with human needs— the intellectual needs of the inquiring spirit— but related to these needs in a new way. The interpretation of nature in and for itself took shape as a worthy intellectual aim, but ever more and more in intellectual detachment from all other feelings and wishes and yearnings of the human heart. This is the interpretation in terms of natural law which tends in some degree to supplant the interpretation in terms of purpose. Each has its advocates; and each has progressively reached a higher level of refinement. Step by step and stage by stage have these two aspects of a philosophy of nature striven towards increasing range, unity, and universality, culminating in the opposing conceptions of theism and naturalism. The former may have begun by uncritically projecting human purpose on to the plane of nature; but as it became more refined the redundant crudities were removed. Many of those who still accept this explanation of the meaning of nature regard the world as an expression of purpose in relation to that of -man, but freed from human imperfections and limitations, no longer capricious but the type of steadfast and beneficent influence; a purpose without variableness or shadow of turning, of which indeed we can only aspire to an imperfect and limited comprehension, but in relation to which human life attains its highest worth ; a purpose which is the source of all that is revealed to us through the channels of human experience, and one which appeals not less, nay more, to the poet and the artist than to the man of science and the philosopher. On the other hand, as we have seen, the _ procedure of naturalism has taken an opposite course. Instead of projecting purpose on to the plane of nature it has introjected the mechanical explanations of the external world into the life and eventually into the very soul of man. This type of interpretation was first applied to what we may term the inorganic periphery of natural knowledge in the starry heavens. By successive steps, however, it worked inwards towards the human centre. Man’s bodily frame and its _ physiological functions were, in due time, interpreted in mechanical terms. His conscious experience, regarded as a by-product of the processes occurring in some part of the brain, indirectly if not directly yields to a like method of analytic treatment. The central citadel of the soul is captured. And the newer method of interpretation, according to its most advanced exponents, is now, at least in its broad outlines, complete, and human purpose itself is explained as the conscious accompaniment of nerve-changes explicable in terms of a mechanism resulting from a prolonged process of rigidly determinate evolution.

But while naturalism thus finds its principle of unification in the universality and interconnection of world-events, while it works inwards from external nature to the life and mind of man which it interprets as expressions of natural law, it meets with strenuous antagonism from the opposing school of thought.

The attempt to depose this earth of ours, as the home of man, from its central position in the solar system not only showed an impious disregard of the teachings of the Bible, it was regarded as the first naturalistic attack on the system of interpretation therein set forth. It was resisted with all the force which ecclesiastical authority could summon to its aid. When Hutton and Lyell laid claim for naturalism on the physical features of the earth, and urged that the stratified deposits testify to a long-continued process of natural development and a progressive sequence of life-forms through a vast stretch of time reaching backwards for ages before the existence of man, the opposition again was decided -and sincere. Apart from any contradiction. of Holy Writ, how could such a view be reconciled with the creation of the world that it might be the abode of man, and “that might subserve his ends and purposes. And before the feelings of antagonism to uniformitarian geology had subsided, comes Darwin, as the prince of evolutionists, showing how a doctrine of transformation could be accepted on purely naturalistic grounds, and boldly asserting that man and ape were cousins by descent. Many still lving remember well with what vehement opposition this further encroachment of naturalism was met with in the sixties of the last century. But as organic evolution gradually won its way to general acceptance, the opponents of naturalism withdrew to their central citadel, the mind and spirit of man.

That at any rate was theirs to hold and to keep against all attacks. Naturalism, however, having gained strength and confidence, does not hesitate to lay siege to this citadel, and already regards the whole position as won. Determinate evolution is victorious all along the line. It only remains for us either to accept the inevitable, or to take up a position as belated outsiders, living in dreamland away from the practical realities of science, rethinking the childish thoughts of primitive folk, and seeking in vain for purpose in the heaven from which it has long ago been banished. The much-vaunted triumph of naturalism is founded upon the assured conquests of science. No one to-day is likely to deny to science an honourable position in the world of thought. It has brought the most varied phenomena within the scope of an orderly scheme. When we look out on the world in which we live we are at first bewildered with the multiplicity of diverse happenings which meet our wondering and admiring view. At night we see the firmament bespangled with glittering points of light sweeping majestically in well-ordered array across the heavens as the earth rolls onwards in her course; among them are wandering points, the planets, threading their way among the fixed stars, and that larger, but yet smaller wanderer, the moon, waxing and waning as we watch her night by night. The stars fade in the brightening east, and the sun rises to trace its larger or smaller arc in the sky. Clouds form and are banked in billowy masses; wind and rain, thunder and lightning, present to us fresh aspects of nature.

The rugged or a gently-swelling earth with its mountain and valley, hill and dale, waterfalls and fretting streams ; the coast-line with its bays and promontories, its bounding expanse of ocean with rising and falling tide, with wavelets lapping the sands or breakers beating on the beach, add to our store of observed facts. Tree and shrub, fern and flower, arrest our attention, while bird and beast and myriad insects speak to us of the wealth and variety of life. Men and women people the scene, living in complex communities, with strange customs, with experience, thought and imagination, seeking to explain the varied phenomena of nature and how consciousness itself has appeared in their midst. Such is but a bird’seye view of the varied facts with which science has essayed to deal. That it has been able to group them, systematise them, exhibit their multiplex inter-connections, bring them to some extent within a single related scheme, and show running through them all the grand sweep of a curve of evolution, all this should fill us with a sense of unqualified admiration. Science has undertaken a worthy task which it prosecutes with splendid ability. But when it erects upon such foundations a philosophy of naturalism, when it asserts that nature is devoid of purpose, and that even in human life purpose may be so explained as to be practically explained away, it behoves us to re-examine its data, to submit its conclusions to critical study, and to make sure, before we surrender ourselves to its agnostic creed, that. there are no realities for human thought other than the realities of phenomenal existence.