Philip Henry Gosse

"When the fact itself cannot be proved, that which comes nearest to the proof of the fact is the proof of the circumstances that necessarily and usually attend such facts; and these are called presumptions, and not proofs, for they stand instead of the proofs of the fact, till the contrary be proved."—Gilbert; Law of Evidence.

Such, then, is the evidence for the macro-chronology. I hope I have summed it up fairly; of course, many details I have been forbidden to adduce by want of space, but they would have been of the same kind as those brought forward. I am not conscious of having in any degree cushioned, or concealed, or understated a single proof which would have helped the conclusion.

A mighty array of evidence it certainly is, and such as appears at first sight to compel our assent to the sequent claimed for it. I must confess that I have no sympathy with the reasonings of those, however I honour their design, who can find a sufficient cause for these phenomena in the natural operations of the Antediluvian centuries, or in the convulsion that closed them.

But is there no other alternative? Am I compelled to accept the conclusions drawn from the phenomena thus witnessed unto, as undeniable facts, since they refuse to be normally circumscribed within the limits of the historic period? I verily believe there is another, and a perfectly legitimate solution.

My first business is to examine, and, if I can, to disprove this testimony. If I can show the witness to be liable to error; if I can adduce a principle which invalidates all his proofs; if I can make it undeniably manifest that, in a case precisely parallel, similar conclusions, deduced from exactly analogous phenomena, would be notoriously false; if I can do this, I think I have a right to demand that the witness be bowed out of court, as perfectly nugatory and worthless in this cause.

In the first place, there is nothing here but circumstantial evidence; there is no direct testimony to the facts sought to be established. Let it not seem unfair to make this distinction; it is one of great importance. No witness has deposed to actual observation of the processes above enumerated; no one has appeared in court who declares he actually saw the living Pterodactyle flying about, or heard the winds sighing in the tops of the Lepidodendra. You will say, "It is the same thing; we have seen the skeleton of the one, and the crushed trunk of the other, and therefore we are as sure of their past existence as if we had been there at the time." No, it is not the same thing; it is not quite the same thing; not quite. Strong as is the evidence, it is not quite so strong as if you had actually seen the living things, and had been conscious of the passing of time while you saw them live. It is only by a process of reasoning that you infer they lived at all.[51]

The process is something like this. Here is an object in a mass of stone, which has a definite form,—the form of the bone of a beast. The more minutely you examine it, the more points of resemblance you find; you say, If this is a bone, it ought to have so and so—condyles, scars for the attachment of muscles in particular spots, a cavity for the reception of marrow, a mark for the insertion of the ligament; you look for each of these, and find all in the very conditions you have prescribed; it is not only a bone, but a particular bone, the thigh-bone, for instance. Here in the same block of stone is another object: you work it out; it is another bone; its joint accurately fits the preceding; it answers precisely to the tibia of a mammal. Other bones at length appear, and you have got a perfect skeleton, no part redundant, none wanting; the most minute, the most elaborate, the most delicate portions of the osseous frame of a mammal are present, and every one exactly correspondent to the rest in size, in maturity, in fit. Each bone, out of the scores, displays exactly those characters, and no other, which an anatomist would have said beforehand it ought to have. Allowing for the difference of species, the skeleton, when worked out of its matrix, and set up, is precisely like that of the little beast at whose death you were actually present, whose bones you cleaned with your own hands, and mounted for your own museum. It would be as reasonable to deny that the one is the skeleton of a real animal as the other.

Thus far there is matter of fact—observed, witnessed fact; you have found in a stone a real skeleton.

You immediately infer that this skeleton once belonged to a living animal, that breathed, and fed, and walked about, exactly as animals do now. This conclusion seems so obvious and unavoidable, that we naturally conclude it to rest on the same foundation as the fact that the object is a skeleton, or that it was in the stone. But really it rests on a totally different foundation; it is a conclusion deduced by a process of reasoning from certain assumed premises.

Myriads, perhaps millions of skeletons of animals like this one have come at different times under human observation, which have been obviously referrible to creatures that, within the same sphere of observation, had been alive. No similar skeleton has ever come within the range of recorded observation that could be referred to any other source than that of a quondam living animal. On these premises you build the conclusion that a skeleton must, at some time or other, have belonged to a living animal. And it may seem an impregnable position; but yet its validity altogether depends on the exhaustive power of human observation. If I could show, to your satisfaction, that a skeleton might have existed; still more, if I could show you that a skeleton must have existed; still more, if I could prove that myriads of skeletons, precisely like this, must have existed, without ever having formed parts of antecedent living bodies; you would yourself acknowledge that your conclusions were untenable. The utmost you could affirm, would be, that possibly, perhaps probably, the skeleton you had found in the stone had at some time belonged to a living animal, but that, so far as any recognised premises exist, there was no certainty about it.

But the premises have not been fairly stated. There is more than the relation of precedence and sequence in what we know of the connexion between skeletons and living animals; there is the relation of cause and effect. It is not only that universal experience has declared the fact that every skeleton was once part of a living body; it has shown that the very structure and nature of the skeleton implied living body. The skeleton, in every part, displays a regard for the advantages of the living animal; it is built expressly for it; by itself it is nothing—a machine without any object; its joints, its cavities, its apophyses, its processes, all have special reference to tissues and organs which are not here now, but which belong to the living body.

And then experience has shown that the skeleton is made in a particular manner. The bone is deposited, atom by atom, in living organic cells, which are formed by living blood, which implies a living animal. The microscopic texture of your stone-girt skeleton does not differ from that of the skeleton which you cleaned from the muscles with your own hands; and therefore you infer that it was constructed in the same way, namely, by the blood of a living body.

Well, I come back, notwithstanding, to my position,—that your right to affirm this must altogether depend on the exhaustive power of that experience on which you build. And it will be overthrown, if I can show that skeletons have been made in some other way than by the agency of living blood.

Can I do this? I think I can. At least I think I can show enough greatly to diminish, if not altogether to destroy, the confidence with which you inferred the existence of vast periods of past time from geological phenomena. I can adduce a principle, having the universality (within its proper sphere) of law, hitherto unrecognised, whose tendency is to invalidate the testimony of your witness.