W h e re Did The Ancients Secure Their Scientific Knowledge?
Reproduced by permission from the book T h e H a r m o n y o f S c ie n c e a n d S c r ip t u r e Copyright by Research Science Bureau, Inc.
Fourth in a Series of Articles by Harry Rimmer, Sc. D.
C ENTURIES upon centuries be fore Christ was born, multiply ing themselves into a thousand years, the writer of Ecclesiastes wrote, “All the rivers run into the sea, and yet the sea is not full. Unto the place from whence the rivers come, thither they return again.” Of course, many men have pondered this problem. All the rivers do run into the sea, yet the sea is not full. Have you ever thought that through? Every year the continents and islands of this earth pour down into the ocean a stupendous volume of water. Let the reader contemplate, for just a moment, a cubic mile of water. That would be a lake a mile long, a mile wide, and a mile deep. The stupen dous weight of a cubic mile of water would stagger the imagination of man, yet every year the land pours into the sea more than 286,000 cubic miles of water. For century upon cen tury and millennium after millennium, this has been going on, and the sea has not increased its level by so much as one inch. How is this? We call it the cycle of evaporation and precipitation. The writer of Ec clesiastes said that the ocean main tains its level in spite of this stu pendous annual influx, because the rivers go back to the place from whence they came. Indeed, they do. As the hurrying, singing, cheerful beads of water go slipping down the toboggan slide of the mountain slope, they hasten impatiently to sea. There they climb upon the Creator’s elevator of evaporation, to form themselves into fleecy clouds of H 2 O dust and ride back to the head of their tobog gan slide, there to begin their happy, tumbling journey over again. In the modern science of meteorol ogy all of this is understood and its
of exaggeration when we said scores, for there are in the Word of God literally scores of these anticipations of our so-called science. There have been various attempts by interested students of the Scrip ture to show here and there in the ancient prophecies an indication of the fact that men would some day take to themselves wings like a bird and cleave their way through the air. We would not add to the far-fetched and strained interpretations of Scrip ture, but there seems to be one place at least where the modern phenome non of flight was anticipated by the prophetic Scripture. In the sixtieth chapter of Isaiah, verse eight, we read, “Who are these that fly as a cloud, and as the doves to their windows?” This common ren dition of the King James version is perhaps not as clear as some of the more literal translations of the Scrip ture. It may be just a trifle more specific if this ambiguous passage were translated: “Who are these that fly in air through a cloud and settle as doves to their windows?” It is utterly impossible for any modern man to say who was the first of our race to dream of the possibility and prospect of flying. There are legends and traditions going far back into a mossy antiquity that carry this long frustrated hope of the human heart. It may even be that as Adam basked on a grassy slope in Eden’s garden, watching the birds glide from tree to tree and soar high into the cerulean vault, he also said in his heart, “ I wish that I could do that.” At any rate, Isaiah has anticipated by the spirit of prophecy the fulfill ment of that great hope. If Isaiah were alive today and were to express this question, namely, “Who are these Page Eleven
laws are comprehended. Modern sci ence has fathomed the mystery of this cycle. How did the writer of Ecclesiastes find it out? Again, the casual reader says, “ Coincidence.” This reminds us that some years ago there was an Irishman who did not believe in miracles. The parish priest was much concerned with the infidelity of his parishioner, and sought to reason with him as to the reality of the miraculous. The priest opened the conversation by saying, “Now, Pat, you don’t believe in mir acles; but supposing that on Monday morning as you were carrying the hod to the tenth story of a great building, at just ten o’clock you slipped and fell and landed on your head on the sidewalk so far below. If you arose utterly unhurt, wouldn’t that be a miracle?” “No,” said Pat, with a shake of his head, “ that would be an accident.” The priest smiled and said, “ All right, that is an accident. But sup posing the second morning at the same hour of ten o’clock you fell from the same place and again struck the sidewalk, to arise uninjured, wouldn’t that be a miracle?” The Irishman pondered a moment and then said, “No, sir, that would be a coincidence.” Pressing the attack, the priest said, “ All right, now we have an accident and a coincidence. But suppose it happened again a third morning. Wouldn’t that be a miracle?” With a twinkle in his eye, the Irishman said, “ By that time it would be a habit.” We would be willing to concede six or eight or a dozen of these coinci dences, but when they begin to multi ply and number scores, some other explanation must be found. And we have not spoken with any semblance
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