ART. VII.—LUCRETIUS THE EVOLUTIONIST.

IN materialistic world-making there is nothing new under the sun. Lucretius, the Roman philosopher, born about B. C. 95, in his celebrated poem, "De Rerum Natura," presents an exposition of materialistic evolution which equals the performance of any of the modern advocates of that doctrine. He enunciated the same principles and defended them as lucidly as they; he encountered the same difficulties and evaded them quite as successfully. He does not pretend to be an original investigator in this field; he is confessedly a pupil of Epicurus, and he sets forth the doctrines of that great teacher illuminated and adorned by the splendor of his own native genius.

Both by contrast and by similarity his method reminds us of some of the modern teachers of "advanced thought." He is very frank in stating his aims and expectations in publishing his work. He desires to free men from the debasing influence of religion. This he would do by showing them the truth about "nature." When we call to mind the character of the religion known to Lucretius we cannot refrain from commending his purpose. The echo of his condemnation of that spurious religion has been prolonged into this age, when the reasons for his condemnation have passed away. Is this due to the conservatism of the scientific instinct? Quite as frankly he rules out any interference of deity in the creation or government of the world. The gods care nothing about us one way or another. "For the whole nature of the gods must necessarily, of itself, enjoy immortality in absolute repose, separated and far removed from our affairs; for, exempt from all pain and perils, sufficient in its own resources, needing nothing from us, it is neither propitiated by services nor affected by anger." This, however, seems to be a concession to the weaknesses of the vulgar; for it is not certain that he accredits the existence of any god. He makes no more use of deity, unless it may be to adorn a paragraph. Some modern evolutionists admit the existence of a deity, not to round out a sentence, but as a concession to an obvious weakness in men of this generation who are

prone to inquire not only after the existence of things but, after the cause of that existence. Childish curiosity in the unscientific mind has always been a cause of stumbling and offense in the way of philosophy.

Lucretius announces as the first law of nature that "Nothing is made of nothing."

Nullam rem e nilo gigni divinitus umquam (I, v. 150). Perhaps divinitus is inserted here to guard against the possible error that the gods may have power to make something out of nothing. It is the denial of creation and the assumption of the eternity of matter. This is modern. He adduces proof of his proposition. This is not modern.

His second law is, "Nothing is reduced to nothing." Matter is indestructible. Here the atomic theory is introduced, and also the nature of the void. There are two real existences: atoms and void. All things else are properties or accidents of these two. There is no third thing. The atom, whether divisible or not, is undivided, and it is impenetrable, containing no void; but outside of the atoms is void, and only void. This theory was first stated by Leucippus, was adopted by Epicurus, and is well presented by Lucretius.

Given atoms and void, how was the universe formed, with its order and beauty?

The atoms were in motion. They moved downward. Why did they move, and why "downward"? What would be "downward" and what "upward" in the infinite void? He does not answer, and why should he answer? Atheistic evolutionists until this day have kept a golden silence. Theistic evolutionists have

introduced a god at this point, so as to get the business of world

making fairly on its feet.

fied obscurity-only to

He is then assigned a position of digniappear in cases of extreme necessity. Lucretius is consistent. He sternly remands the gods to their "absolute repose.

But atoms moving in straight lines would never get together, and all their motion would result in nothing. But they did come together, and worlds and systems were formed. How is this explained? Some of the atoms "swerved" from their direct

course. Why? Why? He answers the question as conclusively as the moderns. His answer is silence.

Then, after the atoms had "swerved," collided, and rebounded for ages, the world is formed and its inhabitants. Atoms vary in forms, and forms adapted to each other cling together, and thus come into being the various kinds of animate and inanimate things. He rigidly applies his theory, and shrinks from the solution of no problem. The third book of his poem is devoted entirely to the consideration of the soul and its nature. His atomic theory explains all. The soul is material, complex, composed of different kinds of atoms. This third book is worthy of study, both for its earnest argument and for its literary beauty.

In the fifth book he treats of the origin of animals, including man. How did they originate? They are here; whence came they? "Where any suitable region offered itself wombs sprang up, fastened to the earth by fibers." From these came all living things.

Crescebant uteri terrae radicibus apti.

His imperfect tense of the verb in this verse suggests the repeated and long-continued efforts of nature before the final result was attained. It is the modern theory stated in plain language. If you want a better explanation of first beginnings you must turn to an old book called Genesis.

He notes the law of "the survival of the fittest." Many kinds of living things perished, unable to survive under changed environment. The lion survived because of superior courage, the fox by cunning, the stag by flight, the domestic animals because they have been protected by man. There is no reason to find fault with his theory, or with his treatment of it. But why does not nature still exert her productive power and produce new kinds of plants and animals? Here sounds out something of that minor tone which runs through all this stately poem. Nature grew weary and ceased to be productive. "For age changes the nature of the whole world, and as to all things one state must succeed another, and not anything remains like itself; all things change."

Mutat enim mundi naturam totius aetas

Ex alioque alius status excipere omnia debet,
Nec manet ulla sui similis res: omnia migrant.

The whole world came from the void, and to the void it returns. From this view of things he gets as much comfort as anyone can who does not "look for a new heaven and a new earth.”

In his third book he argues that death is the extinction of being. The soul is material and mortal. Death is an end of pain and pleasure, hope and fear.

He is not wretched who does not exist;

Nor knows nor cares that he was born at all,
When death immortal conquers mortal life.

Added years

It is unbecoming to shrink from death and complain that life must
end. It is a vain thing to regret the brevity of life.
would not bring satisfaction.

Our life pursues its course in beaten paths,
And no new joy in living can be found.

A few years more or less taken from that eternal sleep will make no difference to us. It is the part of wisdom to accept its undisturbed repose without any weak repinings.

However many ages you may live
Eternal death not less will overtake.
Nor briefer will his nonexistence be

Who made to-day the end of life than his
Who perished many months and years ago.

You say this is "a lame and impotent conclusion"? Yes, but he spoke according to his lights. He is honest. He is the voice of one crying in the wilderness of doubt and despair, sending a strong and manly cry through the night; not announcing any dawning, but summoning men to meet the inevitable with dignified courage. We have better light. Atheistic evolution is a mine worked out; even theisite evolution is unproved. In any event we will still hold to the faith of the fathers: "In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth." "And God said, Let us make man in our image, after our likeness."

R. E. McBride

ART. VIII.-JOHN, SON OF ZEBEDEE, AUTHOR OF THE FOURTH GOSPEL.

I. His Life and Character.-When Jesus gave to the sons of Zebedee the surname Boanerges he intended to point out a trait of character peculiarly prominent in these two men. John, the beloved disciple, was a son of thunder. As such he would command lightning to fall upon the Samaritans who refused to receive Jesus, and as such he was ready to oppose certain ones who cast out demons in the name of Jesus and yet were outside the inner circle of the Master's followers. A Galilean by birth, he sprang from a hardy and warlike race, an ardent and ofttimes fierce people. Impetuous, and unreserved in devotion to his Master, John was ever impatient with lack of faith in others. He possessed a measure of the quick, impulsive nature of Peter, his friend and almost constant companion. "Who is a liar but he that denieth that Jesus is the Christ?" "He that doeth sin is of the devil." "He that believeth not God hath made him a liar; because he hath not believed in the witness that God hath borne concerning his Son." How like an echo of thunder these words sound, revealing a character unchanged by time-in one essential trait at least! The Master does not wish to destroy but rather to sanctify the God-given personality; to render it productive of holiness, piety, and fruits of righteousness.

Zebedee and Salome, the parents of John, had servants, owned a house, and were on intimate terms with the high priest. Of the father we know only that he was a fisherman. The mother was ardent and pious, ministering to the wants of Jesus, bringing spices to his tomb, and revealing everywhere decided energy of character. Sharing the prominent character traits of his people and family, and having been for a time the disciple of John the Baptist, we find John earnest, bold, fervid in his manner of address, a man of decision and energy; one of the most prominent of the disciples and one of that smaller circle to whom Jesus revealed himself at times more fully than to the others. With him universal tradition has identified the unnamed disciple who