act. The first living germ, whenever and however created,
was infused with power to give birth to higher species. Of these and
their descendants some would continue to advance, others would
degenerate. Each theory demands equally for its ultimate explanation
a creative act; the second as much as, if not more than, the first.
According to the first theory the creative power has been
distributed over a series of acts, according to the second theory it
has been concentrated in one primal creation. The second is the
theory of the mutability of species, or, in general, of evolution,
but not necessarily of Darwinism alone.

The first theory is considered by many the more attractive and
hopeful. Now a theory need not be attractive, nor at first sight
appear hopeful, provided only it is true. But let me call your
attention to certain conclusions which, as it appears to me, are
necessarily involved in it. Its central thought is the practical
immutability of species. Each one of these lives its little span of
time, for species are usually comparatively short-lived, grows
possibly a very little better or worse, and dies. Its progress has
added nothing to the total of life; its degeneration harmed no one,
hardly even itself; it was doomed from the start. Progress there has
been, in a sense. The Creator has placed ever higher forms on the
globe. But all the progress lies in the gaps and distances between
successive forms, not in any advance made, or victory won, by the
species or individual. The most "aspiring ape," if ever there was
such a being, remains but an ape. He must comfort himself with the
thought that, while he and his descendants can never gain an inch,
the gap between himself and the next higher form shall be far
greater than that between himself and the lowest monkey.

And if this has been the history of thousands of other species, why
should it not be true of man also? Who can wonder that many who
accept this theory doubt whether the world is growing any better, or
whether even man will ever be higher and better than he now is?
Would it not be contrary to the whole course of past history, if you
can properly call such a record a history, if he could advance at
all? Now I have no wish to misrepresent this or any honestly
accepted theory, but it appears to me essentially hopeless, a record
not of the progress of life on the globe, but of a succession of
stagnations, of deaths. I can never understand why some very good