f any religion in any accepted sense of the
word, these examples can be arranged in an ascending series leading
to the highest planes which humanity has reached; that philosophic
observers may among these examples study existing beliefs, usages, and
institutions back through earlier and earlier forms, until, as a rule,
the whole evolution can be easily divined if not fully seen. Moreover,
the basis of the whole structure became more and more clear: the fact
that "the lines of intelligence have always been what they are, and have
always operated as they do now; that man has progressed from the simple
to the complex, from the particular to the general."
As this evidence from ethnology became more and more strong, its
significance to theology aroused attention, and naturally most
determined efforts were made to break its force. On the Continent the
two great champions of the Church in this field were De Maistre and De
Bonald; but the two attempts which may be especially recalled as the
most influential among English-speaking peoples were those of Whately,
Archbishop of Dublin, and the Duke of Argyll.
First in the combat against these new deductions of science was Whately.
He was a strong man, whose breadth of thought and liberality in practice
deserve all honour; but these very qualities drew upon him the distrust
of his orthodox brethren; and, while his writings were powerful in
the first half of the present century to break down many bulwarks of
unreason, he seems to have been constantly in fear of losing touch with
the Church, and therefore to have promptly attacked some scientific
reasonings, which, had he been a layman, not holding a brief for
the Church, he would probably have studied with more care and less
prejudice. He was not slow to see the deeper significance of archaeology
and ethnology in their relations to the theological conception of "the
Fall," and he set the battle in array against them.
His contention was, to use his own words, that "no community ever did
or ever can emerge unassisted by external helps from a state of utter
barbarism into anything that can be called civilization"; and that, in
short, all imperfectly civilized, barbarous, and savage races are but
fallen descendants of races more fully civilized. This view was urged
with his usual ingenuity and vigour, but the facts proved too strong
for him: they made it clear, first, that many races were without simple
possessions, instruments, and
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