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diff --git a/6605-0.txt b/6605-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..bf25be7 --- /dev/null +++ b/6605-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7607 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Unconscious Memory, by Samuel Butler + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most +other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of +the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at +www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have +to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. + + + + +Title: Unconscious Memory + + +Author: Samuel Butler + + + +Release Date: November 4, 2014 [eBook #6605] +[This file was first posted on December 30, 2002] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK UNCONSCIOUS MEMORY*** + + +Transcribed from the 1910 A. C. Fifield edition by David Price, email +ccx074@pglaf.org + + + + + + Unconscious Memory + + + By + Samuel Butler + + Author of “Life and Habit,” “Erewhon,” “The Way of All Flesh,” etc. + + * * * * * + + New Edition, entirely reset, with an Introduction + by Marcus Hartog, M.A., D.SC., F.L.S., F.R.H.S., Pro- + fessor of Zoology in University College, Cork. + + * * * * * + + OP. 5 + + * * * * * + + London + A. C. Fifield, 13 Clifford’s Inn, E.C. + 1910 + + * * * * * + + “As this paper contains nothing which deserves the name either of + experiment or discovery, and as it is, in fact, destitute of every + species of merit, we should have allowed it to pass among the + multitude of those articles which must always find their way into the + collections of a society which is pledged to publish two or three + volumes every year. . . . We wish to raise our feeble voice against + innovations, that can have no other effect than to check the progress + of science, and renew all those wild phantoms of the imagination + which Bacon and Newton put to flight from her temple.”—_Opening + Paragraph of a Review of Dr. Young’s Bakerian Lecture_. _Edinburgh + Review_, _January_ 1803, p. 450. + + “Young’s work was laid before the Royal society, and was made the + 1801 Bakerian Lecture. But he was before his time. The second + number of the _Edinburgh Review_ contained an article levelled + against him by Henry (afterwards Lord) Brougham, and this was so + severe an attack that Young’s ideas were absolutely quenched for + fifteen years. Brougham was then only twenty-four years of age. + Young’s theory was reproduced in France by Fresnel. In our days it + is the accepted theory, and is found to explain all the phenomena of + light.”—_Times Report of a Lecture by Professor Tyndall on Light_, + _April_ 27, 1880. + + * * * * * + + This Book + + Is inscribed to + + RICHARD GARNETT, ESQ. + + (Of the British Museum) + + In grateful acknowledgment of the unwearying kindness + with which he has so often placed at my disposal + his varied store of information. + + + + +Contents + + PAGE +NOTE. By R. A. Streatfeild viii +INTRODUCTION. By Professor Marcus Hartog ix +AUTHOR’S PREFACE xxxvii +CHAPTER I. Introduction—General ignorance on the subject 1 +of evolution at the time the “Origin of Species” was +published in 1859 +CHAPTER II. How I came to write “Life and Habit,” and 12 +the circumstances of its completion +CHAPTER III. How I came to write “Evolution, Old and 26 +New”—Mr Darwin’s “brief but imperfect” sketch of the +opinions of the writers on evolution who had preceded +him—The reception which “Evolution, Old and New,” met +with +CHAPTER IV. The manner in which Mr. Darwin met 38 +“Evolution, Old and New” +CHAPTER V. Introduction to Professor Hering’s lecture 52 +CHAPTER VI. Professor Ewald Hering “On Memory” 63 +CHAPTER VII. Introduction to a translation of the 87 +chapter upon instinct in Von Hartmann’s “Philosophy of +the Unconscious” +CHAPTER VIII. Translation of the chapter on “The 92 +Unconscious in Instinct,” from Von Hartmann’s “Philosophy +of the Unconscious” +CHAPTER IX. Remarks upon Von Hartmann’s position in 137 +regard to instinct +CHAPTER X. Recapitulation and statement of an objection 146 +CHAPTER XI. On Cycles 156 +CHAPTER XII. Refutation—Memory at once a promoter and a 161 +disturber of uniformity of action and structure +CHAPTER XIII. Conclusion 173 + + + +Note + + +FOR many years a link in the chain of Samuel Butler’s biological works +has been missing. “Unconscious Memory” was originally published thirty +years ago, but for fully half that period it has been out of print, owing +to the destruction of a large number of the unbound sheets in a fire at +the premises of the printers some years ago. The present reprint comes, +I think, at a peculiarly fortunate moment, since the attention of the +general public has of late been drawn to Butler’s biological theories in +a marked manner by several distinguished men of science, notably by Dr. +Francis Darwin, who, in his presidential address to the British +Association in 1908, quoted from the translation of Hering’s address on +“Memory as a Universal Function of Original Matter,” which Butler +incorporated into “Unconscious Memory,” and spoke in the highest terms of +Butler himself. It is not necessary for me to do more than refer to the +changed attitude of scientific authorities with regard to Butler and his +theories, since Professor Marcus Hartog has most kindly consented to +contribute an introduction to the present edition of “Unconscious +Memory,” summarising Butler’s views upon biology, and defining his +position in the world of science. A word must be said as to the +controversy between Butler and Darwin, with which Chapter IV is +concerned. I have been told that in reissuing the book at all I am +committing a grievous error of taste, that the world is no longer +interested in these “old, unhappy far-off things and battles long ago,” +and that Butler himself, by refraining from republishing “Unconscious +Memory,” tacitly admitted that he wished the controversy to be consigned +to oblivion. This last suggestion, at any rate, has no foundation in +fact. Butler desired nothing less than that his vindication of himself +against what he considered unfair treatment should be forgotten. He +would have republished “Unconscious Memory” himself, had not the latter +years of his life been devoted to all-engrossing work in other fields. +In issuing the present edition I am fulfilling a wish that he expressed +to me shortly before his death. + + R. A. STREATFEILD. + +_April_, 1910. + + + + +Introduction +By Marcus Hartog, M.A., D.Sc., F.L.S., F.R.H.S. + + +IN reviewing Samuel Butler’s works, “Unconscious Memory” gives us an +invaluable lead; for it tells us (Chaps. II, III) how the author came to +write the Book of the Machines in “Erewhon” (1872), with its +foreshadowing of the later theory, “Life and Habit,” (1878), “Evolution, +Old and New” (1879), as well as “Unconscious Memory” (1880) itself. His +fourth book on biological theory was “Luck? or Cunning?” (1887). {0a} + +Besides these books, his contributions to biology comprise several +essays: “Remarks on Romanes’ _Mental Evolution in Animals_, contained in +“Selections from Previous Works” (1884) incorporated into “Luck? or +Cunning,” “The Deadlock in Darwinism” (_Universal Review_, April-June, +1890), republished in the posthumous volume of “Essays on Life, Art, and +Science” (1904), and, finally, some of the “Extracts from the Notebooks +of the late Samuel Butler,” edited by Mr. H. Festing Jones, now in course +of publication in the _New Quarterly Review_. + + * * * * * + +Of all these, “LIFE AND HABIT” (1878) is the most important, the main +building to which the other writings are buttresses or, at most, annexes. +Its teaching has been summarised in “Unconscious Memory” in four main +principles: “(1) the oneness of personality between parent and offspring; +(2) memory on the part of the offspring of certain actions which it did +when in the persons of its forefathers; (3) the latency of that memory +until it is rekindled by a recurrence of the associated ideas; (4) the +unconsciousness with which habitual actions come to be performed.” To +these we must add a fifth: the purposiveness of the actions of living +beings, as of the machines which they make or select. + +Butler tells (“Life and Habit,” p. 33) that he sometimes hoped “that this +book would be regarded as a valuable adjunct to Darwinism.” He was +bitterly disappointed in the event, for the book, as a whole, was +received by professional biologists as a gigantic joke—a joke, moreover, +not in the best possible taste. True, its central ideas, largely those +of Lamarck, had been presented by Hering in 1870 (as Butler found shortly +after his publication); they had been favourably received, developed by +Haeckel, expounded and praised by Ray Lankester. Coming from Butler, +they met with contumely, even from such men as Romanes, who, as Butler +had no difficulty in proving, were unconsciously inspired by the same +ideas—“_Nur mit ein bischen ander’n Wörter_.” + +It is easy, looking back, to see why “Life and Habit” so missed its mark. +Charles Darwin’s presentation of the evolution theory had, for the first +time, rendered it possible for a “sound naturalist” to accept the +doctrine of common descent with divergence; and so given a real meaning +to the term “natural relationship,” which had forced itself upon the +older naturalists, despite their belief in special and independent +creations. The immediate aim of the naturalists of the day was now to +fill up the gaps in their knowledge, so as to strengthen the fabric of a +unified biology. For this purpose they found their actual scientific +equipment so inadequate that they were fully occupied in inventing fresh +technique, and working therewith at facts—save a few critics, such as St. +George Mivart, who was regarded as negligible, since he evidently held a +brief for a party standing outside the scientific world. + +Butler introduced himself as what we now call “The Man in the Street,” +far too bare of scientific clothing to satisfy the Mrs. Grundy of the +domain: lacking all recognised tools of science and all sense of the +difficulties in his way, he proceeded to tackle the problems of science +with little save the deft pen of the literary expert in his hand. His +very failure to appreciate the difficulties gave greater power to his +work—much as Tartarin of Tarascon ascended the Jungfrau and faced +successfully all dangers of Alpine travel, so long as he believed them to +be the mere “blagues de réclame” of the wily Swiss host. His brilliant +qualities of style and irony themselves told heavily against him. Was he +not already known for having written the most trenchant satire that had +appeared since “Gulliver’s Travels”? Had he not sneered therein at the +very foundations of society, and followed up its success by a +pseudo-biography that had taken in the “Record” and the “Rock”? In “Life +and Habit,” at the very start, he goes out of his way to heap scorn at +the respected names of Marcus Aurelius, Lord Bacon, Goethe, Arnold of +Rugby, and Dr. W. B. Carpenter. He expressed the lowest opinion of the +Fellows of the Royal Society. To him the professional man of science, +with self-conscious knowledge for his ideal and aim, was a medicine-man, +priest, augur—useful, perhaps, in his way, but to be carefully watched by +all who value freedom of thought and person, lest with opportunity he +develop into a persecutor of the worst type. Not content with +blackguarding the audience to whom his work should most appeal, he went +on to depreciate that work itself and its author in his finest vein of +irony. Having argued that our best and highest knowledge is that of +whose possession we are most ignorant, he proceeds: “Above all, let no +unwary reader do me the injustice of believing in me. In that I write at +all I am among the damned.” + + * * * * * + +His writing of “EVOLUTION, OLD AND NEW” (1879) was due to his conviction +that scant justice had been done by Charles Darwin and Alfred Wallace and +their admirers to the pioneering work of Buffon, Erasmus Darwin, and +Lamarck. To repair this he gives a brilliant exposition of what seemed +to him the most valuable portion of their teachings on evolution. His +analysis of Buffon’s true meaning, veiled by the reticences due to the +conditions under which he wrote, is as masterly as the English in which +he develops it. His sense of wounded justice explains the vigorous +polemic which here, as in all his later writings, he carries to the +extreme. + +As a matter of fact, he never realised Charles Darwin’s utter lack of +sympathetic understanding of the work of his French precursors, let alone +his own grandfather, Erasmus. Yet this practical ignorance, which to +Butler was so strange as to transcend belief, was altogether genuine, and +easy to realise when we recall the position of Natural Science in the +early thirties in Darwin’s student days at Cambridge, and for a decade or +two later. Catastropharianism was the tenet of the day: to the last it +commended itself to his Professors of Botany and Geology,—for whom Darwin +held the fervent allegiance of the Indian scholar, or _chela_, to his +_guru_. As Geikie has recently pointed out, it was only later, when +Lyell had shown that the breaks in the succession of the rocks were only +partial and local, without involving the universal catastrophes that +destroyed all life and rendered fresh creations thereof necessary, that +any general acceptance of a descent theory could be expected. We may be +very sure that Darwin must have received many solemn warnings against the +dangerous speculations of the “French Revolutionary School.” He himself +was far too busy at the time with the reception and assimilation of new +facts to be awake to the deeper interest of far-reaching theories. + +It is the more unfortunate that Butler’s lack of appreciation on these +points should have led to the enormous proportion of bitter personal +controversy that we find in the remainder of his biological writings. +Possibly, as suggested by George Bernard Shaw, his acquaintance and +admirer, he was also swayed by philosophical resentment at that +banishment of mind from the organic universe, which was generally thought +to have been achieved by Charles Darwin’s theory. Still, we must +remember that this mindless view is not implicit in Charles Darwin’s +presentment of his own theory, nor was it accepted by him as it has been +by so many of his professed disciples. + + * * * * * + +“UNCONSCIOUS MEMORY” (1880).—We have already alluded to an anticipation +of Butler’s main theses. In 1870 Dr. Ewald Hering, one of the most +eminent physiologists of the day, Professor at Vienna, gave an Inaugural +Address to the Imperial Royal Academy of Sciences: “Das Gedächtniss als +allgemeine Funktion der organisirter Substanz” (“Memory as a Universal +Function of Organised Matter”). When “Life and Habit” was well advanced, +Francis Darwin, at the time a frequent visitor, called Butler’s attention +to this essay, which he himself only knew from an article in “Nature.” +Herein Professor E. Ray Lankester had referred to it with admiring +sympathy in connection with its further development by Haeckel in a +pamphlet entitled “Die Perigenese der Plastidule.” We may note, however, +that in his collected Essays, “The Advancement of Science” (1890), Sir +Ray Lankester, while including this Essay, inserts on the blank page +{0b}—we had almost written “the white sheet”—at the back of it an apology +for having ever advocated the possibility of the transmission of acquired +characters. + +“Unconscious Memory” was largely written to show the relation of Butler’s +views to Hering’s, and contains an exquisitely written translation of the +Address. Hering does, indeed, anticipate Butler, and that in language +far more suitable to the persuasion of the scientific public. It +contains a subsidiary hypothesis that memory has for its mechanism +special vibrations of the protoplasm, and the acquired capacity to +respond to such vibrations once felt upon their repetition. I do not +think that the theory gains anything by the introduction of this even as +a mere formal hypothesis; and there is no evidence for its being anything +more. Butler, however, gives it a warm, nay, enthusiastic, reception in +Chapter V (Introduction to Professor Hering’s lecture), and in his notes +to the translation of the Address, which bulks so large in this book, but +points out that he was “not committed to this hypothesis, though inclined +to accept it on a _prima facie_ view.” Later on, as we shall see, he +attached more importance to it. + +The Hering Address is followed in “Unconscious Memory” by translations of +selected passages from Von Hartmann’s “Philosophy of the Unconscious,” +and annotations to explain the difference from this personification of +“_The Unconscious_” as a mighty all-ruling, all-creating personality, and +his own scientific recognition of the great part played by _unconscious +processes_ in the region of mind and memory. + +These are the essentials of the book as a contribution to biological +philosophy. The closing chapters contain a lucid statement of objections +to his theory as they might be put by a rigid necessitarian, and a +refutation of that interpretation as applied to human action. + +But in the second chapter Butler states his recession from the strong +logical position he had hitherto developed in his writings from “Erewhon” +onwards; so far he had not only distinguished the living from the +non-living, but distinguished among the latter _machines_ or _tools_ from +_things at large_. {0c} Machines or tools are the external organs of +living beings, as organs are their internal machines: they are fashioned, +assembled, or selected by the beings for a purposes so they have a +_future purpose_, as well as a _past history_. “Things at large” have a +past history, but no purpose (so long as some being does not convert them +into tools and give them a purpose): Machines have a Why? as well as a +How?: “things at large” have a How? only. + +In “Unconscious Memory” the allurements of unitary or monistic views have +gained the upper hand, and Butler writes (p. 23):— + + “The only thing of which I am sure is, that the distinction between + the organic and inorganic is arbitrary; that it is more coherent with + our other ideas, and therefore more acceptable, to start with every + molecule as a living thing, and then deduce death as the breaking up + of an association or corporation, than to start with inanimate + molecules and smuggle life into them; and that, therefore, what we + call the inorganic world must be regarded as up to a certain point + living, and instinct, within certain limits, with consciousness, + volition, and power of concerted action. _It is only of late_, + _however_, _that I have come to this opinion_.” + +I have italicised the last sentence, to show that Butler was more or less +conscious of its irreconcilability with much of his most characteristic +doctrine. Again, in the closing chapter, Butler writes (p. 275):— + + “We should endeavour to see the so-called inorganic as living in + respect of the qualities it has in common with the organic, rather + than the organic as non-living in respect of the qualities it has in + common with the inorganic.” + +We conclude our survey of this book by mentioning the literary +controversial part chiefly to be found in Chapter IV, but cropping up +elsewhere. It refers to interpolations made in the authorised +translation of Krause’s “Life of Erasmus Darwin.” Only one side is +presented; and we are not called upon, here or elsewhere, to discuss the +merits of the question. + + * * * * * + +“LUCK, OR CUNNING, as the Main Means of Organic Modification? an Attempt +to throw Additional Light upon the late Mr. Charles Darwin’s Theory of +Natural Selection” (1887), completes the series of biological books. +This is mainly a book of strenuous polemic. It brings out still more +forcibly the Hering-Butler doctrine of continued personality from +generation to generation, and of the working of unconscious memory +throughout; and points out that, while this is implicit in much of the +teaching of Herbert Spencer, Romanes, and others, it was nowhere—even +after the appearance of “Life and Habit”—explicitly recognised by them, +but, on the contrary, masked by inconsistent statements and teaching. +Not Luck but Cunning, not the uninspired weeding out by Natural Selection +but the intelligent striving of the organism, is at the bottom of the +useful variety of organic life. And the parallel is drawn that not the +happy accident of time and place, but the Machiavellian cunning of +Charles Darwin, succeeded in imposing, as entirely his own, on the +civilised world an uninspired and inadequate theory of evolution wherein +luck played the leading part; while the more inspired and inspiring views +of the older evolutionists had failed by the inferiority of their luck. +On this controversy I am bound to say that I do not in the very least +share Butler’s opinions; and I must ascribe them to his lack of personal +familiarity with the biologists of the day and their modes of thought and +of work. Butler everywhere undervalues the important work of elimination +played by Natural Selection in its widest sense. + +The “Conclusion” of “Luck, or Cunning?” shows a strong advance in +monistic views, and a yet more marked development in the vibration +hypothesis of memory given by Hering and only adopted with the greatest +reserve in “Unconscious Memory.” + + “Our conception, then, concerning the nature of any matter depends + solely upon its kind and degree of unrest, that is to say, on the + characteristics of the vibrations that are going on within it. The + exterior object vibrating in a certain way imparts some of its + vibrations to our brain; but if the state of the thing itself depends + upon its vibrations, it [the thing] must be considered as to all + intents and purposes the vibrations themselves—plus, of course, the + underlying substance that is vibrating. . . . The same vibrations, + therefore, form the substance remembered, introduce an infinitesimal + dose of it within the brain, modify the substance remembering, and, + in the course of time, create and further modify the mechanism of + both the sensory and the motor nerves. Thought and thing are one. + + “I commend these two last speculations to the reader’s charitable + consideration, as feeling that I am here travelling beyond the ground + on which I can safely venture. . . . I believe they are both + substantially true.” + +In 1885 he had written an abstract of these ideas in his notebooks (see +_New Quarterly Review_, 1910, p. 116), and as in “Luck, or Cunning?” +associated them vaguely with the unitary conceptions introduced into +chemistry by Newlands and Mendelejeff. Judging himself as an outsider, +the author of “Life and Habit” would certainly have considered the mild +expression of faith, “I believe they are both substantially true,” +equivalent to one of extreme doubt. Thus “the fact of the Archbishop’s +recognising this as among the number of his beliefs is conclusive +evidence, with those who have devoted attention to the laws of thought, +that his mind is not yet clear” on the matter of the belief avowed (see +“Life and Habit,” pp. 24, 25). + +To sum up: Butler’s fundamental attitude to the vibration hypothesis was +all through that taken in “Unconscious Memory”; he played with it as a +pretty pet, and fancied it more and more as time went on; but instead of +backing it for all he was worth, like the main theses of “Life and +Habit,” he put a big stake on it—and then hedged. + + * * * * * + +The last of Butler’s biological writings is the Essay, “THE DEADLOCK IN +DARWINISM,” containing much valuable criticism on Wallace and Weismann. +It is in allusion to the misnomer of Wallace’s book, “Darwinism,” that he +introduces the term “Wallaceism” {0d} for a theory of descent that +excludes the transmission of acquired characters. This was, indeed, the +chief factor that led Charles Darwin to invent his hypothesis of +pangenesis, which, unacceptable as it has proved, had far more to +recommend it as a formal hypothesis than the equally formal germ-plasm +hypothesis of Weismann. + + * * * * * + +The chief difficulty in accepting the main theses of Butler and Hering is +one familiar to every biologist, and not at all difficult to understand +by the layman. Everyone knows that the complicated beings that we term +“Animals” and “Plants,” consist of a number of more or less +individualised units, the cells, each analogous to a simpler being, a +Protist—save in so far as the character of the cell unit of the Higher +being is modified in accordance with the part it plays in that complex +being as a whole. Most people, too, are familiar with the fact that the +complex being starts as a single cell, separated from its parent; or, +where bisexual reproduction occurs, from a cell due to the fusion of two +cells, each detached from its parent. Such cells are called +“Germ-cells.” The germ-cell, whether of single or of dual origin, starts +by dividing repeatedly, so as to form the _primary embryonic cells_, a +complex mass of cells, at first essentially similar, which, however, as +they go on multiplying, undergo differentiations and migrations, losing +their simplicity as they do so. Those cells that are modified to take +part in the proper work of the whole are called tissue-cells. In virtue +of their activities, their growth and reproductive power are limited—much +more in Animals than in Plants, in Higher than in Lower beings. It is +these tissues, or some of them, that receive the impressions from the +outside which leave the imprint of memory. Other cells, which may be +closely associated into a continuous organ, or more or less surrounded by +tissue-cells, whose part it is to nourish them, are called “secondary +embryonic cells,” or “germ-cells.” The germ-cells may be differentiated +in the young organism at a very early stage, but in Plants they are +separated at a much later date from the less isolated embryonic regions +that provide for the Plant’s branching; in all cases we find embryonic +and germ-cells screened from the life processes of the complex organism, +or taking no very obvious part in it, save to form new tissues or new +organs, notably in Plants. + +Again, in ourselves, and to a greater or less extent in all Animals, we +find a system of special tissues set apart for the reception and storage +of impressions from the outer world, and for guiding the other organs in +their appropriate responses—the “Nervous System”; and when this system is +ill-developed or out of gear the remaining organs work badly from lack of +proper skilled guidance and co-ordination. How can we, then, speak of +“memory” in a germ-cell which has been screened from the experiences of +the organism, which is too simple in structure to realise them if it were +exposed to them? My own answer is that we cannot form any theory on the +subject, the only question is whether we have any right to _infer_ this +“memory” from the _behaviour_ of living beings; and Butler, like Hering, +Haeckel, and some more modern authors, has shown that the inference is a +very strong presumption. Again, it is easy to over-value such complex +instruments as we possess. The possessor of an up-to-date camera, well +instructed in the function and manipulation of every part, but ignorant +of all optics save a hand-to-mouth knowledge of the properties of his own +lens, might say that _a priori_ no picture could be taken with a +cigar-box perforated by a pin-hole; and our ignorance of the mechanism of +the Psychology of any organism is greater by many times than that of my +supposed photographer. We know that Plants are able to do many things +that can only be accounted for by ascribing to them a “psyche,” and these +co-ordinated enough to satisfy their needs; and yet they possess no +central organ comparable to the brain, no highly specialised system for +intercommunication like our nerve trunks and fibres. As Oscar Hertwig +says, we are as ignorant of the mechanism of the development of the +individual as we are of that of hereditary transmission of acquired +characters, and the absence of such mechanism in either case is no reason +for rejecting the proven fact. + +However, the relations of germ and body just described led Jäger, +Nussbaum, Galton, Lankester, and, above all, Weismann, to the view that +the germ-cells or “stirp” (Galton) were _in_ the body, but not _of_ it. +Indeed, in the body and out of it, whether as reproductive cells set +free, or in the developing embryo, they are regarded as forming one +continuous homogeneity, in contrast to the differentiation of the body; +and it is to these cells, regarded as a continuum, that the terms stirp, +germ-plasm, are especially applied. Yet on this view, so eagerly +advocated by its supporters, we have to substitute for the hypothesis of +memory, which they declare to have no real meaning here, the far more +fantastic hypotheses of Weismann: by these they explain the process of +differentiation in the young embryo into new germ and body; and in the +young body the differentiation of its cells, each in due time and place, +into the varied tissue cells and organs. Such views might perhaps be +acceptable if it could be shown that over each cell-division there +presided a wise all-guiding genie of transcending intellect, to which +Clerk-Maxwell’s sorting demons were mere infants. Yet these views have +so enchanted many distinguished biologists, that in dealing with the +subject they have actually ignored the existence of equally able workers +who hesitate to share the extremest of their views. The phenomenon is +one well known in hypnotic practice. So long as the non-Weismannians +deal with matters outside this discussion, their existence and their work +is rated at its just value; but any work of theirs on this point so +affects the orthodox Weismannite (whether he accept this label or reject +it does not matter), that for the time being their existence and the good +work they have done are alike non-existent. {0e} + +Butler founded no school, and wished to found none. He desired that what +was true in his work should prevail, and he looked forward calmly to the +time when the recognition of that truth and of his share in advancing it +should give him in the lives of others that immortality for which alone +he craved. + +Lamarckian views have never lacked defenders here and in America. Of the +English, Herbert Spencer, who however, was averse to the vitalistic +attitude, Vines and Henslow among botanists, Cunningham among zoologists, +have always resisted Weismannism; but, I think, none of these was +distinctly influenced by Hering and Butler. In America the majority of +the great school of palæontologists have been strong Lamarckians, notably +Cope, who has pointed out, moreover, that the transformations of energy +in living beings are peculiar to them. + +We have already adverted to Haeckel’s acceptance and development of +Hering’s ideas in his “Perigenese der Plastidule.” Oscar Hertwig has +been a consistent Lamarckian, like Yves Delage of the Sorbonne, and these +occupy pre-eminent positions not only as observers, but as discriminating +theorists and historians of the recent progress of biology. We may also +cite as a Lamarckian—of a sort—Felix Le Dantec, the leader of the +chemico-physical school of the present day. + +But we must seek elsewhere for special attention to the points which +Butler regarded as the essentials of “Life and Habit.” In 1893 Henry P. +Orr, Professor of Biology in the University of Louisiana, published a +little book entitled “A Theory of Heredity.” Herein he insists on the +nervous control of the whole body, and on the transmission to the +reproductive cells of such stimuli, received by the body, as will guide +them on their path until they shall have acquired adequate experience of +their own in the new body they have formed. I have found the name of +neither Butler nor Hering, but the treatment is essentially on their +lines, and is both clear and interesting. + +In 1896 I wrote an essay on “The Fundamental Principles of Heredity,” +primarily directed to the man in the street. This, after being held over +for more than a year by one leading review, was “declined with regret,” +and again after some weeks met the same fate from another editor. It +appeared in the pages of “Natural Science” for October, 1897, and in the +“Biologisches Centralblatt” for the same year. I reproduce its closing +paragraph:— + + “This theory [Hering-Butler’s] has, indeed, a tentative character, + and lacks symmetrical completeness, but is the more welcome as not + aiming at the impossible. A whole series of phenomena in organic + beings are correlated under the term of _memory_, _conscious and + unconscious_, _patent and latent_. . . . Of the order of unconscious + memory, latent till the arrival of the appropriate stimulus, is all + the co-operative growth and work of the organism, including its + development from the reproductive cells. Concerning the _modus + operandi_ we know nothing: the phenomena may be due, as Hering + suggests, to molecular vibrations, which must be at least as distinct + from ordinary physical disturbances as Röntgen’s rays are from + ordinary light; or it may be correlated, as we ourselves are inclined + to think, with complex chemical changes in an intricate but orderly + succession. For the present, at least, the problem of heredity can + only be elucidated by the light of mental, and not material + processes.” + +It will be seen that I express doubts as to the validity of Hering’s +invocation of molecular vibrations as the mechanism of memory, and +suggest as an alternative rhythmic chemical changes. This view has +recently been put forth in detail by J. J. Cunningham in his essay on the +“Hormone {0f} Theory of Heredity,” in the _Archiv für +Entwicklungsmechanik_ (1909), but I have failed to note any direct effect +of my essay on the trend of biological thought. + +Among post-Darwinian controversies the one that has latterly assumed the +greatest prominence is that of the relative importance of small +variations in the way of more or less “fluctuations,” and of +“discontinuous variations,” or “mutations,” as De Vries has called them. +Darwin, in the first four editions of the “Origin of Species,” attached +more importance to the latter than in subsequent editions; he was swayed +in his attitude, as is well known, by an article of the physicist, +Fleeming Jenkin, which appeared in the _North British Review_. The +mathematics of this article were unimpeachable, but they were founded on +the assumption that exceptional variations would only occur in single +individuals, which is, indeed, often the case among those domesticated +races on which Darwin especially studied the phenomena of variation. +Darwin was no mathematician or physicist, and we are told in his +biography that he regarded every tool-shop rule or optician’s thermometer +as an instrument of precision: so he appears to have regarded Fleeming +Jenkin’s demonstration as a mathematical deduction which he was bound to +accept without criticism. + +Mr. William Bateson, late Professor of Biology in the University of +Cambridge, as early as 1894 laid great stress on the importance of +discontinuous variations, collecting and collating the known facts in his +“Materials for the Study of Variations”; but this important work, now +become rare and valuable, at the time excited so little interest as to be +‘remaindered’ within a very few years after publication. + +In 1901 Hugo De Vries, Professor of Botany in the University of +Amsterdam, published “Die Mutationstheorie,” wherein he showed that +mutations or discontinuous variations in various directions may appear +simultaneously in many individuals, and in various directions. In the +gardener’s phrase, the species may take to sporting in various directions +at the same time, and each sport may be represented by numerous +specimens. + +De Vries shows the probability that species go on for long periods +showing only fluctuations, and then suddenly take to sporting in the way +described, short periods of mutation alternating with long intervals of +relative constancy. It is to mutations that De Vries and his school, as +well as Luther Burbank, the great former of new fruit- and flower-plants, +look for those variations which form the material of Natural Selection. +In “God the Known and God the Unknown,” which appeared in the _Examiner_ +(May, June, and July), 1879, but though then revised was only published +posthumously in 1909, Butler anticipates this distinction:— + + “Under these circumstances organism must act in one or other of these + two ways: it must either change slowly and continuously with the + surroundings, paying cash for everything, meeting the smallest change + with a corresponding modification, so far as is found convenient, or + it must put off change as long as possible, and then make larger and + more sweeping changes. + + “Both these courses are the same in principle, the difference being + one of scale, and the one being a miniature of the other, as a ripple + is an Atlantic wave in little; both have their advantages and + disadvantages, so that most organisms will take the one course for + one set of things and the other for another. They will deal promptly + with things which they can get at easily, and which lie more upon the + surface; _those_, _however_, _which are more troublesome to reach_, + _and lie deeper_, _will be handled upon more cataclysmic principles_, + _being allowed longer periods of repose followed by short periods of + greater activity_ . . . it may be questioned whether what is called a + sport is not the organic expression of discontent which has been long + felt, but which has not been attended to, nor been met step by step + by as much small remedial modification as was found practicable: so + that when a change does come it comes by way of revolution. Or, + again (only that it comes to much the same thing), it may be compared + to one of those happy thoughts which sometimes come to us unbidden + after we have been thinking for a long time what to do, or how to + arrange our ideas, and have yet been unable to come to any + conclusion” (pp. 14, 15). {0g} + +We come to another order of mind in Hans Driesch. At the time he began +his work biologists were largely busy in a region indicated by Darwin, +and roughly mapped out by Haeckel—that of phylogeny. From the facts of +development of the individual, from the comparison of fossils in +successive strata, they set to work at the construction of pedigrees, and +strove to bring into line the principles of classification with the more +or less hypothetical “stemtrees.” Driesch considered this futile, since +we never could reconstruct from such evidence anything certain in the +history of the past. He therefore asserted that a more complete +knowledge of the physics and chemistry of the organic world might give a +scientific explanation of the phenomena, and maintained that the proper +work of the biologist was to deepen our knowledge in these respects. He +embodied his views, seeking the explanation on this track, filling up +gaps and tracing projected roads along lines of probable truth in his +“Analytische Theorie der organische Entwicklung.” But his own work +convinced him of the hopelessness of the task he had undertaken, and he +has become as strenuous a vitalist as Butler. The most complete +statement of his present views is to be found in “The Philosophy of Life” +(1908–9), being the Giffold Lectures for 1907–8. Herein he postulates a +quality (“psychoid”) in all living beings, directing energy and matter +for the purpose of the organism, and to this he applies the Aristotelian +designation “Entelechy.” The question of the transmission of acquired +characters is regarded as doubtful, and he does not emphasise—if he +accepts—the doctrine of continuous personality. His early youthful +impatience with descent theories and hypotheses has, however, +disappeared. + + * * * * * + +In the next work the influence of Hering and Butler is definitely present +and recognised. In 1906 Signor Eugenio Rignano, an engineer keenly +interested in all branches of science, and a little later the founder of +the international review, _Rivistà di Scienza_ (now simply called +_Scientia_), published in French a volume entitled “Sur la +transmissibilité des Caractères acquis—Hypothèse d’un Centro-épigenèse.” +Into the details of the author’s work we will not enter fully. Suffice +it to know that he accepts the Hering-Butler theory, and makes a distinct +advance on Hering’s rather crude hypothesis of persistent vibrations by +suggesting that the remembering centres store slightly different forms of +energy, to give out energy of the same kind as they have received, like +electrical accumulators. The last chapter, “Le Phénomène mnémonique et +le Phénomène vital,” is frankly based on Hering. + +In “The Lesson of Evolution” (1907, posthumous, and only published for +private circulation) Frederick Wollaston Hutton, F.R.S., late Professor +of Biology and Geology, first at Dunedin and after at Christchurch, New +Zealand, puts forward a strongly vitalistic view, and adopts Hering’s +teaching. After stating this he adds, “The same idea of heredity being +due to unconscious memory was advocated by Mr. Samuel Butler in his “Life +and Habit.” + +Dr. James Mark Baldwin, Stuart Professor of Psychology in Princeton +University, U.S.A., called attention early in the 90’s to a reaction +characteristic of all living beings, which he terms the “Circular +Reaction.” We take his most recent account of this from his “Development +and Evolution” (1902):—{0h} + + “The general fact is that the organism reacts by concentration upon + the locality stimulated for the _continuance_ of the conditions, + movements, stimulations, _which are vitally beneficial_, and for the + cessation of the conditions, movements, stimulations _which are + vitally depressing_.” + +This amounts to saying in the terminology of Jenning (see below) that the +living organism alters its “physiological states” either for its direct +benefit, or for its indirect benefit in the reduction of harmful +conditions. + +Again:— + + “This form of concentration of energy on stimulated localities, with + the resulting renewal through movement of conditions that are + pleasure-giving and beneficial, and the consequent repetition of the + movements is called ‘circular reaction.’” + +Of course, the inhibition of such movements as would be painful on +repetition is merely the negative case of the circular reaction. We must +not put too much of our own ideas into the author’s mind; he nowhere says +explicitly that the animal or plant shows its sense and does this because +it likes the one thing and wants it repeated, or dislikes the other and +stops its repetition, as Butler would have said. Baldwin is very strong +in insisting that no full explanation can be given of living processes, +any more than of history, on purely chemico-physical grounds. + +The same view is put differently and independently by H. S. Jennings, +{0i} who started his investigations of living Protista, the simplest of +living beings, with the idea that only accurate and ample observation was +needed to enable us to explain all their activities on a mechanical +basis, and devised ingenious models of protoplastic movements. He was +led, like Driesch, to renounce such efforts as illusory, and has come to +the conviction that in the behaviour of these lowly beings there is a +purposive and a tentative character—a method of “trial and error”—that +can only be interpreted by the invocation of psychology. He points out +that after stimulation the “state” of the organism may be altered, so +that the response to the same stimulus on repetition is other. Or, as he +puts it, the first stimulus has caused the organism to pass into a new +“physiological state.” As the change of state from what we may call the +“primary indifferent state” is advantageous to the organism, we may +regard this as equivalent to the doctrine of the “circular reaction,” and +also as containing the essence of Semon’s doctrine of “engrams” or +imprints which we are about to consider. We cite one passage which for +audacity of thought (underlying, it is true, most guarded expression) may +well compare with many of the boldest flights in “Life and Habit”:— + + “It may be noted that regulation in the manner we have set forth is + what, in the behaviour of higher organisms, at least, is called + intelligence [the examples have been taken from Protista, Corals, and + the Lowest Worms]. If the same method of regulation is found in + other fields, there is no reason for refusing to compare the action + to intelligence. Comparison of the regulatory processes that are + shown in internal physiological changes and in regeneration to + intelligence seems to be looked upon sometimes as heretical and + unscientific. Yet intelligence is a name applied to processes that + actually exist in the regulation of movements, and there is, _a + priori_, no reason why similar processes should not occur in + regulation in other fields. When we analyse regulation objectively + there seems indeed reason to think that the processes are of the same + character in behaviour as elsewhere. If the term intelligence be + reserved for the subjective accompaniments of such regulation, then + of course we have no direct knowledge of its existence in any of the + fields of regulation outside of the self, and in the self perhaps + only in behaviour. But in a purely objective consideration there + seems no reason to suppose that regulation in behaviour + (intelligence) is of a fundamentally different character from + regulation elsewhere.” (“Method of Regulation,” p. 492.) + +Jennings makes no mention of questions of the theory of heredity. He has +made some experiments on the transmission of an acquired character in +Protozoa; but it was a mutilation-character, which is, as has been often +shown, {0j} not to the point. + + * * * * * + +One of the most obvious criticisms of Hering’s exposition is based upon +the extended use he makes of the word “Memory”: this he had foreseen and +deprecated. + + “We have a perfect right,” he says, “to extend our conception of + memory so as to make it embrace involuntary [and also unconscious] + reproductions of sensations, ideas, perceptions, and efforts; but we + find, on having done so, that we have so far enlarged her boundaries + that she proves to be an ultimate and original power, the source and, + at the same time, the unifying bond, of our whole conscious life.” + (“Unconscious Memory,” p. 68.) + +This sentence, coupled with Hering’s omission to give to the concept of +memory so enlarged a new name, clear alike of the limitations and of the +stains of habitual use, may well have been the inspiration of the next +work on our list. Richard Semon is a professional zoologist and +anthropologist of such high status for his original observations and +researches in the mere technical sense, that in these countries he would +assuredly have been acclaimed as one of the Fellows of the Royal Society +who were Samuel Butler’s special aversion. The full title of his book is +“DIE MNEME als erhaltende Prinzip im Wechsel des organischen Geschehens” +(Munich, Ed. 1, 1904; Ed. 2, 1908). We may translate it “MNEME, a +Principle of Conservation in the Transformations of Organic Existence.” + +From this I quote in free translation the opening passage of Chapter II:— + + “We have shown that in very many cases, whether in Protist, Plant, or + Animal, when an organism has passed into an indifferent state after + the reaction to a stimulus has ceased, its irritable substance has + suffered a lasting change: I call this after-action of the stimulus + its ‘imprint’ or ‘engraphic’ action, since it penetrates and imprints + itself in the organic substance; and I term the change so effected an + ‘imprint’ or ‘engram’ of the stimulus; and the sum of all the + imprints possessed by the organism may be called its ‘store of + imprints,’ wherein we must distinguish between those which it has + inherited from its forbears and those which it has acquired itself. + Any phenomenon displayed by an organism as the result either of a + single imprint or of a sum of them, I term a ‘mnemic phenomenon’; and + the mnemic possibilities of an organism may be termed, collectively, + its ‘MNEME.’ + + “I have selected my own terms for the concepts that I have just + defined. On many grounds I refrain from making any use of the good + German terms ‘Gedächtniss, Erinnerungsbild.’ The first and chiefest + ground is that for my purpose I should have to employ the German + words in a much wider sense than what they usually convey, and thus + leave the door open to countless misunderstandings and idle + controversies. It would, indeed, even amount to an error of fact to + give to the wider concept the name already current in the narrower + sense—nay, actually limited, like ‘Erinnerungsbild,’ to phenomena of + consciousness. . . . In Animals, during the course of history, one + set of organs has, so to speak, specialised itself for the reception + and transmission of stimuli—the Nervous System. But from this + specialisation we are not justified in ascribing to the nervous + system any monopoly of the function, even when it is as highly + developed as in Man. . . . Just as the direct excitability of the + nervous system has progressed in the history of the race, so has its + capacity for receiving imprints; but neither susceptibility nor + retentiveness is its monopoly; and, indeed, retentiveness seems + inseparable from susceptibility in living matter.” + +Semen here takes the instance of stimulus and imprint actions affecting +the nervous system of a dog + + “who has up till now never experienced aught but kindness from the + Lord of Creation, and then one day that he is out alone is pelted + with stones by a boy. . . . Here he is affected at once by two sets + of stimuli: (1) the optic stimulus of seeing the boy stoop for stones + and throw them, and (2) the skin stimulus of the pain felt when they + hit him. Here both stimuli leave their imprints; and the organism is + permanently changed in relation to the recurrence of the stimuli. + Hitherto the sight of a human figure quickly stooping had produced no + constant special reaction. Now the reaction is constant, and may + remain so till death. . . . The dog tucks in its tail between its + legs and takes flight, often with a howl [as of] pain.” + + “Here we gain on one side a deeper insight into the imprint action of + stimuli. It reposes on the lasting change in the conditions of the + living matter, so that the repetition of the immediate or synchronous + reaction to its first stimulus (in this case the stooping of the boy, + the flying stones, and the pain on the ribs), no longer demands, as + in the original state of indifference, the full stimulus _a_, but may + be called forth by a partial or different stimulus, _b_ (in this case + the mere stooping to the ground). I term the influences by which + such changed reaction are rendered possible, ‘outcome-reactions,’ and + when such influences assume the form of stimuli, ‘outcome-stimuli.’” + +They are termed “outcome” (“ecphoria”) stimuli, because the author +regards them and would have us regard them as the outcome, manifestation, +or efference of an imprint of a previous stimulus. We have noted that +the imprint is equivalent to the changed “physiological state” of +Jennings. Again, the capacity for gaining imprints and revealing them by +outcomes favourable to the individual is the “circular reaction” of +Baldwin, but Semon gives no reference to either author. {0k} + +In the preface to his first edition (reprinted in the second) Semon +writes, after discussing the work of Hering and Haeckel:— + + “The problem received a more detailed treatment in Samuel Butler’s + book, ‘Life and Habit,’ published in 1878. Though he only made + acquaintance with Hering’s essay after this publication, Butler gave + what was in many respects a more detailed view of the coincidences of + these different phenomena of organic reproduction than did Hering. + With much that is untenable, Butler’s writings present many a + brilliant idea; yet, on the whole, they are rather a retrogression + than an advance upon Hering. Evidently they failed to exercise any + marked influence upon the literature of the day.” + +This judgment needs a little examination. Butler claimed, justly, that +his “Life and Habit” was an advance on Hering in its dealing with +questions of hybridity, and of longevity puberty and sterility. Since +Semon’s extended treatment of the phenomena of crosses might almost be +regarded as the rewriting of the corresponding section of “Life and +Habit” in the “Mneme” terminology, we may infer that this view of the +question was one of Butler’s “brilliant ideas.” That Butler shrank from +accepting such a formal explanation of memory as Hering did with his +hypothesis should certainly be counted as a distinct “advance upon +Hering,” for Semon also avoids any attempt at an explanation of “Mneme.” +I think, however, we may gather the real meaning of Semon’s strictures +from the following passages:— + + “I refrain here from a discussion of the development of this theory + of Lamarck’s by those Neo-Lamarckians who would ascribe to the + individual elementary organism an equipment of complex psychical + powers—so to say, anthropomorphic perception and volitions. This + treatment is no longer directed by the scientific principle of + referring complex phenomena to simpler laws, of deducing even human + intellect and will from simpler elements. On the contrary, they + follow that most abhorrent method of taking the most complex and + unresolved as a datum, and employing it as an explanation. The + adoption of such a method, as formerly by Samuel Butler, and recently + by Pauly, I regard as a big and dangerous step backward” (ed. 2, pp. + 380–1, note). + +Thus Butler’s alleged retrogressions belong to the same order of thinking +that we have seen shared by Driesch, Baldwin, and Jennings, and most +explicitly avowed, as we shall see, by Francis Darwin. Semon makes one +rather candid admission, “The impossibility of interpreting the phenomena +of physiological stimulation by those of direct reaction, and the +undeception of those who had put faith in this being possible, have led +many on the _backward path of vitalism_.” Semon assuredly will never be +able to complete his theory of “Mneme” until, guided by the experience of +Jennings and Driesch, he forsakes the blind alley of mechanisticism and +retraces his steps to reasonable vitalism. + + * * * * * + +But the most notable publications bearing on our matter are incidental to +the Darwin Celebrations of 1908–9. Dr. Francis Darwin, son, +collaborator, and biographer of Charles Darwin, was selected to preside +over the Meeting of the British Association held in Dublin in 1908, the +jubilee of the first publications on Natural Selection by his father and +Alfred Russel Wallace. In this address we find the theory of Hering, +Butler, Rignano, and Semon taking its proper place as a _vera causa_ of +that variation which Natural Selection must find before it can act, and +recognised as the basis of a rational theory of the development of the +individual and of the race. The organism is essentially purposive: the +impossibility of devising any adequate accounts of organic form and +function without taking account of the psychical side is most strenuously +asserted. And with our regret that past misunderstandings should be so +prominent in Butler’s works, it was very pleasant to hear Francis +Darwin’s quotation from Butler’s translation of Hering {0l} followed by a +personal tribute to Butler himself. + + * * * * * + +In commemoration of the centenary of the birth of Charles Darwin and of +the fiftieth anniversary of the publication of the “Origin of Species,” +at the suggestion of the Cambridge Philosophical Society, the University +Press published during the current year a volume entitled “Darwin and +Modern Science,” edited by Mr. A. C. Seward, Professor of Botany in the +University. Of the twenty-nine essays by men of science of the highest +distinction, one is of peculiar interest to the readers of Samuel Butler: +“Heredity and Variation in Modern Lights,” by Professor W. Bateson, +F.R.S., to whose work on “Discontinuous Variations” we have already +referred. Here once more Butler receives from an official biologist of +the first rank full recognition for his wonderful insight and keen +critical power. This is the more noteworthy because Bateson has +apparently no faith in the transmission of acquired characters; but such +a passage as this would have commended itself to Butler’s admiration:— + + “All this indicates a definiteness and specific order in heredity, + and therefore in variation. This order cannot by the nature of the + case be dependent on Natural Selection for its existence, but must be + a consequence of the fundamental chemical and physical nature of + living things. The study of Variation had from the first shown that + an orderliness of this kind was present. The bodies and properties + of living things are cosmic, not chaotic. No matter how low in the + scale we go, never do we find the slightest hint of a diminution in + that all-pervading orderliness, nor can we conceive an organism + existing for one moment in any other state.” + +We have now before us the materials to determine the problem of Butler’s +relation to biology and to biologists. He was, we have seen, anticipated +by Hering; but his attitude was his own, fresh and original. He did not +hamper his exposition, like Hering, by a subsidiary hypothesis of +vibrations which may or may not be true, which burdens the theory without +giving it greater carrying power or persuasiveness, which is based on no +objective facts, and which, as Semon has practically demonstrated, is +needless for the detailed working out of the theory. Butler failed to +impress the biologists of his day, even those on whom, like Romanes, he +might have reasonably counted for understanding and for support. But he +kept alive Hering’s work when it bade fair to sink into the limbo of +obsolete hypotheses. To use Oliver Wendell Holmes’s phrase, he +“depolarised” evolutionary thought. We quote the words of a young +biologist, who, when an ardent and dogmatic Weismannist of the most +pronounced type, was induced to read “Life and Habit”: “The book was to +me a transformation and an inspiration.” Such learned writings as +Semon’s or Hering’s could never produce such an effect: they do not +penetrate to the heart of man; they cannot carry conviction to the +intellect already filled full with rival theories, and with the +unreasoned faith that to-morrow or next day a new discovery will +obliterate all distinction between Man and his makings. The mind must +needs be open for the reception of truth, for the rejection of prejudice; +and the violence of a Samuel Butler may in the future as in the past be +needed to shatter the coat of mail forged by too exclusively professional +a training. + + MARCUS HARTOG + +_Cork_, _April_, 1910 + + + + +Author’s Preface + + +NOT finding the “well-known German scientific journal _Kosmos_” {0m} +entered in the British Museum Catalogue, I have presented the Museum with +a copy of the number for February 1879, which contains the article by Dr. +Krause of which Mr. Charles Darwin has given a translation, the accuracy +of which is guaranteed—so he informs us—by the translator’s “scientific +reputation together with his knowledge of German.” {0n} + +I have marked the copy, so that the reader can see at a glance what +passages has been suppressed and where matter has been interpolated. + +I have also present a copy of “Erasmus Darwin.” I have marked this too, +so that the genuine and spurious passages can be easily distinguished. + +I understand that both the “Erasmus Darwin” and the number of _Kosmos_ +have been sent to the Keeper of Printed Books, with instructions that +they shall be at once catalogued and made accessible to readers, and do +not doubt that this will have been done before the present volume is +published. The reader, therefore, who may be sufficiently interested in +the matter to care to see exactly what has been done will now have an +opportunity of doing so. + +_October_ 25, 1880. + + + + +Chapter I + + +Introduction—General ignorance on the subject of evolution at the time +the “Origin of Species” was published in 1859. + +THERE are few things which strike us with more surprise, when we review +the course taken by opinion in the last century, than the suddenness with +which belief in witchcraft and demoniacal possession came to an end. +This has been often remarked upon, but I am not acquainted with any +record of the fact as it appeared to those under whose eyes the change +was taking place, nor have I seen any contemporary explanation of the +reasons which led to the apparently sudden overthrow of a belief which +had seemed hitherto to be deeply rooted in the minds of almost all men. +As a parallel to this, though in respect of the rapid spread of an +opinion, and not its decadence, it is probable that those of our +descendants who take an interest in ourselves will note the suddenness +with which the theory of evolution, from having been generally ridiculed +during a period of over a hundred years, came into popularity and almost +universal acceptance among educated people. + +It is indisputable that this has been the case; nor is it less +indisputable that the works of Mr. Darwin and Mr. Wallace have been the +main agents in the change that has been brought about in our opinions. +The names of Cobden and Bright do not stand more prominently forward in +connection with the repeal of the Corn Laws than do those of Mr. Darwin +and Mr. Wallace in connection with the general acceptance of the theory +of evolution. There is no living philosopher who has anything like Mr. +Darwin’s popularity with Englishmen generally; and not only this, but his +power of fascination extends all over Europe, and indeed in every country +in which civilisation has obtained footing: not among the illiterate +masses, though these are rapidly following the suit of the educated +classes, but among experts and those who are most capable of judging. +France, indeed—the country of Buffon and Lamarck—must be counted an +exception to the general rule, but in England and Germany there are few +men of scientific reputation who do not accept Mr. Darwin as the founder +of what is commonly called “Darwinism,” and regard him as perhaps the +most penetrative and profound philosopher of modern times. + +To quote an example from the last few weeks only, {2} I have observed +that Professor Huxley has celebrated the twenty-first year since the +“Origin of Species” was published by a lecture at the Royal Institution, +and am told that he described Mr. Darwin’s candour as something actually +“terrible” (I give Professor Huxley’s own word, as reported by one who +heard it); and on opening a small book entitled “Degeneration,” by +Professor Ray Lankester, published a few days before these lines were +written, I find the following passage amid more that is to the same +purport:— + + “Suddenly one of those great guesses which occasionally appear in the + history of science was given to the science of biology by the + imaginative insight of that greatest of living naturalists—I would + say that greatest of living men—Charles Darwin.”—_Degeneration_, p. + 10. + +This is very strong language, but it is hardly stronger than that +habitually employed by the leading men of science when they speak of Mr. +Darwin. To go farther afield, in February 1879 the Germans devoted an +entire number of one of their scientific periodicals {3} to the +celebration of Mr. Darwin’s seventieth birthday. There is no other +Englishman now living who has been able to win such a compliment as this +from foreigners, who should be disinterested judges. + +Under these circumstances, it must seem the height of presumption to +differ from so great an authority, and to join the small band of +malcontents who hold that Mr. Darwin’s reputation as a philosopher, +though it has grown up with the rapidity of Jonah’s gourd, will yet not +be permanent. I believe, however, that though we must always gladly and +gratefully owe it to Mr. Darwin and Mr. Wallace that the public mind has +been brought to accept evolution, the admiration now generally felt for +the “Origin of Species” will appear as unaccountable to our descendants +some fifty or eighty years hence as the enthusiasm of our grandfathers +for the poetry of Dr. Erasmus Darwin does to ourselves; and as one who +has yielded to none in respect of the fascination Mr. Darwin has +exercised over him, I would fain say a few words of explanation which may +make the matter clearer to our future historians. I do this the more +readily because I can at the same time explain thus better than in any +other way the steps which led me to the theory which I afterwards +advanced in “Life and Habit.” + +This last, indeed, is perhaps the main purpose of the earlier chapters of +this book. I shall presently give a translation of a lecture by +Professor Ewald Hering of Prague, which appeared ten years ago, and which +contains so exactly the theory I subsequently advocated myself, that I am +half uneasy lest it should be supposed that I knew of Professor Hering’s +work and made no reference to it. A friend to whom I submitted my +translation in MS., asking him how closely he thought it resembled “Life +and Habit,” wrote back that it gave my own ideas almost in my own words. +As far as the ideas are concerned this is certainly the case, and +considering that Professor Hering wrote between seven and eight years +before I did, I think it due to him, and to my readers as well as to +myself, to explain the steps which led me to my conclusions, and, while +putting Professor Hering’s lecture before them, to show cause for +thinking that I arrived at an almost identical conclusion, as it would +appear, by an almost identical road, yet, nevertheless, quite +independently, I must ask the reader, therefore, to regard these earlier +chapters as in some measure a personal explanation, as well as a +contribution to the history of an important feature in the developments +of the last twenty years. I hope also, by showing the steps by which I +was led to my conclusions, to make the conclusions themselves more +acceptable and easy of comprehension. + +Being on my way to New Zealand when the “Origin of Species” appeared, I +did not get it till 1860 or 1861. When I read it, I found “the theory of +natural selection” repeatedly spoken of as though it were a synonym for +“the theory of descent with modification”; this is especially the case in +the recapitulation chapter of the work. I failed to see how important it +was that these two theories—if indeed “natural selection” can be called a +theory—should not be confounded together, and that a “theory of descent +with modification” might be true, while a “theory of descent with +modification through natural selection” {4} might not stand being looked +into. + +If any one had asked me to state in brief what Mr. Darwin’s theory was, I +am afraid I might have answered “natural selection,” or “descent with +modification,” whichever came first, as though the one meant much the +same as the other. I observe that most of the leading writers on the +subject are still unable to catch sight of the distinction here alluded +to, and console myself for my want of acumen by reflecting that, if I was +misled, I was misled in good company. + +I—and I may add, the public generally—failed also to see what the unaided +reader who was new to the subject would be almost certain to overlook. I +mean, that, according to Mr. Darwin, the variations whose accumulation +resulted in diversity of species and genus were indefinite, fortuitous, +attributable but in small degree to any known causes, and without a +general principle underlying them which would cause them to appear +steadily in a given direction for many successive generations and in a +considerable number of individuals at the same time. We did not know +that the theory of evolution was one that had been quietly but steadily +gaining ground during the last hundred years. Buffon we knew by name, +but he sounded too like “buffoon” for any good to come from him. We had +heard also of Lamarck, and held him to be a kind of French Lord Monboddo; +but we knew nothing of his doctrine save through the caricatures +promulgated by his opponents, or the misrepresentations of those who had +another kind of interest in disparaging him. Dr. Erasmus Darwin we +believed to be a forgotten minor poet, but ninety-nine out of every +hundred of us had never so much as heard of the “Zoonomia.” We were +little likely, therefore, to know that Lamarck drew very largely from +Buffon, and probably also from Dr. Erasmus Darwin, and that this +last-named writer, though essentially original, was founded upon Buffon, +who was greatly more in advance of any predecessor than any successor has +been in advance of him. + +We did not know, then, that according to the earlier writers the +variations whose accumulation results in species were not fortuitous and +definite, but were due to a known principle of universal +application—namely, “sense of need”—or apprehend the difference between a +theory of evolution which has a backbone, as it were, in the tolerably +constant or slowly varying needs of large numbers of individuals for long +periods together, and one which has no such backbone, but according to +which the progress of one generation is always liable to be cancelled and +obliterated by that of the next. We did not know that the new theory in +a quiet way professed to tell us less than the old had done, and declared +that it could throw little if any light upon the matter which the earlier +writers had endeavoured to illuminate as the central point in their +system. We took it for granted that more light must be being thrown +instead of less; and reading in perfect good faith, we rose from our +perusal with the impression that Mr. Darwin was advocating the descent of +all existing forms of life from a single, or from, at any rate, a very +few primordial types; that no one else had done this hitherto, or that, +if they had, they had got the whole subject into a mess, which mess, +whatever it was—for we were never told this—was now being removed once +for all by Mr. Darwin. + +The evolution part of the story, that is to say, the fact of evolution, +remained in our minds as by far the most prominent feature in Mr. +Darwin’s book; and being grateful for it, we were very ready to take Mr. +Darwin’s work at the estimate tacitly claimed for it by himself, and +vehemently insisted upon by reviewers in influential journals, who took +much the same line towards the earlier writers on evolution as Mr. Darwin +himself had taken. But perhaps nothing more prepossessed us in Mr. +Darwin’s favour than the air of candour that was omnipresent throughout +his work. The prominence given to the arguments of opponents completely +carried us away; it was this which threw us off our guard. It never +occurred to us that there might be other and more dangerous opponents who +were not brought forward. Mr. Darwin did not tell us what his +grandfather and Lamarck would have had to say to this or that. Moreover, +there was an unobtrusive parade of hidden learning and of difficulties at +last overcome which was particularly grateful to us. Whatever opinion +might be ultimately come to concerning the value of his theory, there +could be but one about the value of the example he had set to men of +science generally by the perfect frankness and unselfishness of his work. +Friends and foes alike combined to do homage to Mr. Darwin in this +respect. + +For, brilliant as the reception of the “Origin of Species” was, it met in +the first instance with hardly less hostile than friendly criticism. But +the attacks were ill-directed; they came from a suspected quarter, and +those who led them did not detect more than the general public had done +what were the really weak places in Mr. Darwin’s armour. They attacked +him where he was strongest; and above all, they were, as a general rule, +stamped with a disingenuousness which at that time we believed to be +peculiar to theological writers and alien to the spirit of science. +Seeing, therefore, that the men of science ranged themselves more and +more decidedly on Mr. Darwin’s side, while his opponents had +manifestly—so far as I can remember, all the more prominent among them—a +bias to which their hostility was attributable, we left off looking at +the arguments against “Darwinism,” as we now began to call it, and +pigeon-holed the matter to the effect that there was one evolution, and +that Mr. Darwin was its prophet. + +The blame of our errors and oversights rests primarily with Mr. Darwin +himself. The first, and far the most important, edition of the “Origin +of Species” came out as a kind of literary Melchisedec, without father +and without mother in the works of other people. Here is its opening +paragraph:— + + “When on board H.M.S. ‘Beagle’ as naturalist, I was much struck with + certain facts in the distribution of the inhabitants of South + America, and in the geological relations of the present to the past + inhabitants of that continent. These facts seemed to me to throw + some light on the origin of species—that mystery of mysteries, as it + has been called by one of our greatest philosophers. On my return + home, it occurred to me, in 1837, that something might be made out on + this question by patiently accumulating and reflecting upon all sorts + of facts which could possibly have any bearing on it. After five + years’ work I allowed myself to speculate on the subject, and drew up + some short notes; these I enlarged in 1844 into a sketch of the + conclusions which then seemed to me probable: from that period to the + present day I have steadily pursued the same object. I hope that I + may be excused for entering on these personal details, as I give them + to show that I have not been hasty in coming to a decision.” {8a} + +In the latest edition this passage remains unaltered, except in one +unimportant respect. What could more completely throw us off the scent +of the earlier writers? If they had written anything worthy of our +attention, or indeed if there had been any earlier writers at all, Mr. +Darwin would have been the first to tell us about them, and to award them +their due meed of recognition. But, no; the whole thing was an original +growth in Mr. Darwin’s mind, and he had never so much as heard of his +grandfather, Dr. Erasmus Darwin. + +Dr. Krause, indeed, thought otherwise. In the number of _Kosmos_ for +February 1879 he represented Mr. Darwin as in his youth approaching the +works of his grandfather with all the devotion which people usually feel +for the writings of a renowned poet. {8b} This should perhaps be a +delicately ironical way of hinting that Mr. Darwin did not read his +grandfather’s books closely; but I hardly think that Dr. Krause looked at +the matter in this light, for he goes on to say that “almost every single +work of the younger Darwin may be paralleled by at least a chapter in the +works of his ancestor: the mystery of heredity, adaptation, the +protective arrangements of animals and plants, sexual selection, +insectivorous plants, and the analysis of the emotions and sociological +impulses; nay, even the studies on infants are to be found already +discussed in the pages of the elder Darwin.” {8c} + +Nevertheless, innocent as Mr. Darwin’s opening sentence appeared, it +contained enough to have put us upon our guard. When he informed us +that, on his return from a long voyage, “it occurred to” him that the way +to make anything out about his subject was to collect and reflect upon +the facts that bore upon it, it should have occurred to us in our turn, +that when people betray a return of consciousness upon such matters as +this, they are on the confines of that state in which other and not less +elementary matters will not “occur to” them. The introduction of the +word “patiently” should have been conclusive. I will not analyse more of +the sentence, but will repeat the next two lines:—“After five years of +work, I allowed myself to speculate upon the subject, and drew up some +short notes.” We read this, thousands of us, and were blind. + +If Dr. Erasmus Darwin’s name was not mentioned in the first edition of +the “Origin of Species,” we should not be surprised at there being no +notice taken of Buffon, or at Lamarck’s being referred to only twice—on +the first occasion to be serenely waved aside, he and all his works; {9a} +on the second, {9b} to be commended on a point of detail. The author of +the “Vestiges of Creation” was more widely known to English readers, +having written more recently and nearer home. He was dealt with +summarily, on an early and prominent page, by a misrepresentation, which +was silently expunged in later editions of the “Origin of Species.” In +his later editions (I believe first in his third, when 6000 copies had +been already sold), Mr. Darwin did indeed introduce a few pages in which +he gave what he designated as a “brief but imperfect sketch” of the +progress of opinion on the origin of species prior to the appearance of +his own work; but the general impression which a book conveys to, and +leaves upon, the public is conveyed by the first edition—the one which is +alone, with rare exceptions, reviewed; and in the first edition of the +“Origin of Species” Mr. Darwin’s great precursors were all either ignored +or misrepresented. Moreover, the “brief but imperfect sketch,” when it +did come, was so very brief, but, in spite of this (for this is what I +suppose Mr. Darwin must mean), so very imperfect, that it might as well +have been left unwritten for all the help it gave the reader to see the +true question at issue between the original propounders of the theory of +evolution and Mr. Charles Darwin himself. + +That question is this: Whether variation is in the main attributable to a +known general principle, or whether it is not?—whether the minute +variations whose accumulation results in specific and generic differences +are referable to something which will ensure their appearing in a certain +definite direction, or in certain definite directions, for long periods +together, and in many individuals, or whether they are not?—whether, in a +word, these variations are in the main definite or indefinite? + +It is observable that the leading men of science seem rarely to +understand this even now. I am told that Professor Huxley, in his recent +lecture on the coming of age of the “Origin of Species,” never so much as +alluded to the existence of any such division of opinion as this. He did +not even, I am assured, mention “natural selection,” but appeared to +believe, with Professor Tyndall, {10a} that “evolution” is “Mr. Darwin’s +theory.” In his article on evolution in the latest edition of the +“Encyclopædia Britannica,” I find only a veiled perception of the point +wherein Mr. Darwin is at variance with his precursors. Professor Huxley +evidently knows little of these writers beyond their names; if he had +known more, it is impossible he should have written that “Buffon +contributed nothing to the general doctrine of evolution,” {10b} and that +Erasmus Darwin, “though a zealous evolutionist, can hardly be said to +have made any real advance on his predecessors.” {11} The article is in +a high degree unsatisfactory, and betrays at once an amount of ignorance +and of perception which leaves an uncomfortable impression. + +If this is the state of things that prevails even now, it is not +surprising that in 1860 the general public should, with few exceptions, +have known of only one evolution, namely, that propounded by Mr. Darwin. +As a member of the general public, at that time residing eighteen miles +from the nearest human habitation, and three days’ journey on horseback +from a bookseller’s shop, I became one of Mr. Darwin’s many enthusiastic +admirers, and wrote a philosophical dialogue (the most offensive form, +except poetry and books of travel into supposed unknown countries, that +even literature can assume) upon the “Origin of Species.” This +production appeared in the _Press_, Canterbury, New Zealand, in 1861 or +1862, but I have long lost the only copy I had. + + + + +Chapter II + + +How I came to write “Life and Habit,” and the circumstances of its +completion. + +IT was impossible, however, for Mr. Darwin’s readers to leave the matter +as Mr. Darwin had left it. We wanted to know whence came that germ or +those germs of life which, if Mr. Darwin was right, were once the world’s +only inhabitants. They could hardly have come hither from some other +world; they could not in their wet, cold, slimy state have travelled +through the dry ethereal medium which we call space, and yet remained +alive. If they travelled slowly, they would die; if fast, they would +catch fire, as meteors do on entering the earth’s atmosphere. The idea, +again, of their having been created by a quasi-anthropomorphic being out +of the matter upon the earth was at variance with the whole spirit of +evolution, which indicated that no such being could exist except as +himself the result, and not the cause, of evolution. Having got back +from ourselves to the monad, we were suddenly to begin again with +something which was either unthinkable, or was only ourselves again upon +a larger scale—to return to the same point as that from which we had +started, only made harder for us to stand upon. + +There was only one other conception possible, namely, that the germs had +been developed in the course of time from some thing or things that were +not what we called living at all; that they had grown up, in fact, out of +the material substances and forces of the world in some manner more or +less analogous to that in which man had been developed from themselves. + +I first asked myself whether life might not, after all, resolve itself +into the complexity of arrangement of an inconceivably intricate +mechanism. Kittens think our shoe-strings are alive when they see us +lacing them, because they see the tag at the end jump about without +understanding all the ins and outs of how it comes to do so. “Of +course,” they argue, “if we cannot understand how a thing comes to move, +it must move of itself, for there can be no motion beyond our +comprehension but what is spontaneous; if the motion is spontaneous, the +thing moving must he alive, for nothing can move of itself or without our +understanding why unless it is alive. Everything that is alive and not +too large can be tortured, and perhaps eaten; let us therefore spring +upon the tag” and they spring upon it. Cats are above this; yet give the +cat something which presents a few more of those appearances which she is +accustomed to see whenever she sees life, and she will fall as easy a +prey to the power which association exercises over all that lives as the +kitten itself. Show her a toy-mouse that can run a few yards after being +wound up; the form, colour, and action of a mouse being here, there is no +good cat which will not conclude that so many of the appearances of +mousehood could not be present at the same time without the presence also +of the remainder. She will, therefore, spring upon the toy as eagerly as +the kitten upon the tag. + +Suppose the toy more complex still, so that it might run a few yards, +stop, and run on again without an additional winding up; and suppose it +so constructed that it could imitate eating and drinking, and could make +as though the mouse were cleaning its face with its paws. Should we not +at first be taken in ourselves, and assume the presence of the remaining +facts of life, though in reality they were not there? Query, therefore, +whether a machine so complex as to be prepared with a corresponding +manner of action for each one of the successive emergencies of life as it +arose, would not take us in for good and all, and look so much as if it +were alive that, whether we liked it or not, we should be compelled to +think it and call it so; and whether the being alive was not simply the +being an exceedingly complicated machine, whose parts were set in motion +by the action upon them of exterior circumstances; whether, in fact, man +was not a kind of toy-mouse in the shape of a man, only capable of going +for seventy or eighty years, instead of half as many seconds, and as much +more versatile as he is more durable? Of course I had an uneasy feeling +that if I thus made all plants and men into machines, these machines must +have what all other machines have if they are machines at all—a designer, +and some one to wind them up and work them; but I thought this might wait +for the present, and was perfectly ready then, as now, to accept a +designer from without, if the facts upon examination rendered such a +belief reasonable. + +If, then, men were not really alive after all, but were only machines of +so complicated a make that it was less trouble to us to cut the +difficulty and say that that kind of mechanism was “being alive,” why +should not machines ultimately become as complicated as we are, or at any +rate complicated enough to be called living, and to be indeed as living +as it was in the nature of anything at all to be? If it was only a case +of their becoming more complicated, we were certainly doing our best to +make them so. + +I do not suppose I at that time saw that this view comes to much the same +as denying that there are such qualities as life and consciousness at +all, and that this, again, works round to the assertion of their +omnipresence in every molecule of matter, inasmuch as it destroys the +separation between the organic and inorganic, and maintains that whatever +the organic is the inorganic is also. Deny it in theory as much as we +please, we shall still always feel that an organic body, unless dead, is +living and conscious to a greater or less degree. Therefore, if we once +break down the wall of partition between the organic and inorganic, the +inorganic must be living and conscious also, up to a certain point. + +I have been at work on this subject now for nearly twenty years, what I +have published being only a small part of what I have written and +destroyed. I cannot, therefore, remember exactly how I stood in 1863. +Nor can I pretend to see far into the matter even now; for when I think +of life, I find it so difficult, that I take refuge in death or +mechanism; and when I think of death or mechanism, I find it so +inconceivable, that it is easier to call it life again. The only thing +of which I am sure is, that the distinction between the organic and +inorganic is arbitrary; that it is more coherent with our other ideas, +and therefore more acceptable, to start with every molecule as a living +thing, and then deduce death as the breaking up of an association or +corporation, than to start with inanimate molecules and smuggle life into +them; and that, therefore, what we call the inorganic world must be +regarded as up to a certain point living, and instinct, within certain +limits, with consciousness, volition, and power of concerted action. It +is only of late, however, that I have come to this opinion. + +One must start with a hypothesis, no matter how much one distrusts it; so +I started with man as a mechanism, this being the strand of the knot that +I could then pick at most easily. Having worked upon it a certain time, +I drew the inference about machines becoming animate, and in 1862 or 1863 +wrote the sketch of the chapter on machines which I afterwards rewrote in +“Erewhon.” This sketch appeared in the _Press_, Canterbury, N.Z., June +13, 1863; a copy of it is in the British Museum. + +I soon felt that though there was plenty of amusement to be got out of +this line, it was one that I should have to leave sooner or later; I +therefore left it at once for the view that machines were limbs which we +had made, and carried outside our bodies instead of incorporating them +with ourselves. A few days or weeks later than June 13, 1863, I +published a second letter in the _Press_ putting this view forward. Of +this letter I have lost the only copy I had; I have not seen it for +years. The first was certainly not good; the second, if I remember +rightly, was a good deal worse, though I believed more in the views it +put forward than in those of the first letter. I had lost my copy before +I wrote “Erewhon,” and therefore only gave a couple of pages to it in +that book; besides, there was more amusement in the other view. I should +perhaps say there was an intermediate extension of the first letter which +appeared in the _Reasoner_, July 1, 1865. + +In 1870 and 1871, when I was writing “Erewhon,” I thought the best way of +looking at machines was to see them as limbs which we had made and +carried about with us or left at home at pleasure. I was not, however, +satisfied, and should have gone on with the subject at once if I had not +been anxious to write “The Fair Haven,” a book which is a development of +a pamphlet I wrote in New Zealand and published in London in 1865. + +As soon as I had finished this, I returned to the old subject, on which I +had already been engaged for nearly a dozen years as continuously as +other business would allow, and proposed to myself to see not only +machines as limbs, but also limbs as machines. I felt immediately that I +was upon firmer ground. The use of the word “organ” for a limb told its +own story; the word could not have become so current under this meaning +unless the idea of a limb as a tool or machine had been agreeable to +common sense. What would follow, then, if we regarded our limbs and +organs as things that we had ourselves manufactured for our convenience? + +The first question that suggested itself was, how did we come to make +them without knowing anything about it? And this raised another, namely, +how comes anybody to do anything unconsciously? The answer “habit” was +not far to seek. But can a person be said to do a thing by force of +habit or routine when it is his ancestors, and not he, that has done it +hitherto? Not unless he and his ancestors are one and the same person. +Perhaps, then, they _are_ the same person after all. What is sameness? +I remembered Bishop Butler’s sermon on “Personal Identity,” read it +again, and saw very plainly that if a man of eighty may consider himself +identical with the baby from whom he has developed, so that he may say, +“I am the person who at six months old did this or that,” then the baby +may just as fairly claim identity with its father and mother, and say to +its parents on being born, “I was you only a few months ago.” By parity +of reasoning each living form now on the earth must be able to claim +identity with each generation of its ancestors up to the primordial cell +inclusive. + +Again, if the octogenarian may claim personal identity with the infant, +the infant may certainly do so with the impregnate ovum from which it has +developed. If so, the octogenarian will prove to have been a fish once +in this his present life. This is as certain as that he was living +yesterday, and stands on exactly the same foundation. + +I am aware that Professor Huxley maintains otherwise. He writes: “It is +not true, for example, . . . that a reptile was ever a fish, but it is +true that the reptile embryo” (and what is said here of the reptile holds +good also for the human embryo), “at one stage of its development, is an +organism, which, if it had an independent existence, must be classified +among fishes.” {17} + +This is like saying, “It is not true that such and such a picture was +rejected for the Academy, but it is true that it was submitted to the +President and Council of the Royal Academy, with a view to acceptance at +their next forthcoming annual exhibition, and that the President and +Council regretted they were unable through want of space, &c., &c.”—and +as much more as the reader chooses. I shall venture, therefore, to stick +to it that the octogenarian was once a fish, or if Professor Huxley +prefers it, “an organism which must be classified among fishes.” + +But if a man was a fish once, he may have been a fish a million times +over, for aught he knows; for he must admit that his conscious +recollection is at fault, and has nothing whatever to do with the matter, +which must be decided, not, as it were, upon his own evidence as to what +deeds he may or may not recollect having executed, but by the production +of his signatures in court, with satisfactory proof that he has delivered +each document as his act and deed. + +This made things very much simpler. The processes of embryonic +development, and instinctive actions, might be now seen as repetitions of +the same kind of action by the same individual in successive generations. +It was natural, therefore, that they should come in the course of time to +be done unconsciously, and a consideration of the most obvious facts of +memory removed all further doubt that habit—which is based on memory—was +at the bottom of all the phenomena of heredity. + +I had got to this point about the spring of 1874, and had begun to write, +when I was compelled to go to Canada, and for the next year and a half +did hardly any writing. The first passage in “Life and Habit” which I +can date with certainty is the one on page 52, which runs as follows:— + + “It is one against legion when a man tries to differ from his own + past selves. He must yield or die if he wants to differ widely, so + as to lack natural instincts, such as hunger or thirst, and not to + gratify them. It is more righteous in a man that he should ‘eat + strange food,’ and that his cheek should ‘so much as lank not,’ than + that he should starve if the strange food be at his command. His + past selves are living in him at this moment with the accumulated + life of centuries. ‘Do this, this, this, which we too have done, and + found out profit in it,’ cry the souls of his forefathers within him. + Faint are the far ones, coming and going as the sound of bells wafted + on to a high mountain; loud and clear are the near ones, urgent as an + alarm of fire.” + +This was written a few days after my arrival in Canada, June 1874. I was +on Montreal mountain for the first time, and was struck with its extreme +beauty. It was a magnificent Summer’s evening; the noble St. Lawrence +flowed almost immediately beneath, and the vast expanse of country beyond +it was suffused with a colour which even Italy cannot surpass. Sitting +down for a while, I began making notes for “Life and Habit,” of which I +was then continually thinking, and had written the first few lines of the +above, when the bells of Notre Dame in Montreal began to ring, and their +sound was carried to and fro in a remarkably beautiful manner. I took +advantage of the incident to insert then and there the last lines of the +piece just quoted. I kept the whole passage with hardly any alteration, +and am thus able to date it accurately. + +Though so occupied in Canada that writing a book was impossible, I +nevertheless got many notes together for future use. I left Canada at +the end of 1875, and early in 1876 began putting these notes into more +coherent form. I did this in thirty pages of closely written matter, of +which a pressed copy remains in my commonplace-book. I find two dates +among them—the first, “Sunday, Feb. 6, 1876”; and the second, at the end +of the notes, “Feb. 12, 1876.” + +From these notes I find that by this time I had the theory contained in +“Life and Habit” completely before me, with the four main principles +which it involves, namely, the oneness of personality between parents and +offspring; memory on the part of offspring of certain actions which it +did when in the persons of its forefathers; the latency of that memory +until it is rekindled by a recurrence of the associated ideas; and the +unconsciousness with which habitual actions come to be performed. + +The first half-page of these notes may serve as a sample, and runs thus:— + + “Those habits and functions which we have in common with the lower + animals come mainly within the womb, or are done involuntarily, as + our [growth of] limbs, eyes, &c., and our power of digesting food, + &c. . . . + + “We say of the chicken that it knows how to run about as soon as it + is hatched, . . . but had it no knowledge before it was hatched? + + “It knew how to make a great many things before it was hatched. + + “It grew eyes and feathers and bones. + + “Yet we say it knew nothing about all this. + + “After it is born it grows more feathers, and makes its bones larger, + and develops a reproductive system. + + “Again we say it knows nothing about all this. + + “What then does it know? + + “Whatever it does not know so well as to be unconscious of knowing + it. + + “Knowledge dwells upon the confines of uncertainty. + + “When we are very certain, we do not know that we know. When we will + very strongly, we do not know that we will.” + +I then began my book, but considering myself still a painter by +profession, I gave comparatively little time to writing, and got on but +slowly. I left England for North Italy in the middle of May 1876 and +returned early in August. It was perhaps thus that I failed to hear of +the account of Professor Hering’s lecture given by Professor Ray +Lankester in _Nature_, July 13 1876; though, never at that time seeing +_Nature_, I should probably have missed it under any circumstances. On +my return I continued slowly writing. By August 1877 I considered that I +had to all intents and purposes completed my book. My first proof bears +date October 13, 1877. + +At this time I had not been able to find that anything like what I was +advancing had been said already. I asked many friends, but not one of +them knew of anything more than I did; to them, as to me, it seemed an +idea so new as to be almost preposterous; but knowing how things turn up +after one has written, of the existence of which one had not known +before, I was particularly careful to guard against being supposed to +claim originality. I neither claimed it nor wished for it; for if a +theory has any truth in it, it is almost sure to occur to several people +much about the same time, and a reasonable person will look upon his work +with great suspicion unless he can confirm it with the support of others +who have gone before him. Still I knew of nothing in the least +resembling it, and was so afraid of what I was doing, that though I could +see no flaw in the argument, nor any loophole for escape from the +conclusion it led to, yet I did not dare to put it forward with the +seriousness and sobriety with which I should have treated the subject if +I had not been in continual fear of a mine being sprung upon me from some +unexpected quarter. I am exceedingly glad now that I knew nothing of +Professor Hering’s lecture, for it is much better that two people should +think a thing out as far as they can independently before they become +aware of each other’s works but if I had seen it, I should either, as is +most likely, not have written at all, or I should have pitched my book in +another key. + +Among the additions I intended making while the book was in the press, +was a chapter on Mr. Darwin’s provisional theory of Pangenesis, which I +felt convinced must be right if it was Mr. Darwin’s, and which I was +sure, if I could once understand it, must have an important bearing on +“Life and Habit.” I had not as yet seen that the principle I was +contending for was Darwinian, not Neo-Darwinian. My pages still teemed +with allusions to “natural selection,” and I sometimes allowed myself to +hope that “Life and Habit” was going to be an adjunct to Darwinism which +no one would welcome more gladly than Mr. Darwin himself. At this time I +had a visit from a friend, who kindly called to answer a question of +mine, relative, if I remember rightly, to “Pangenesis.” He came, +September 26, 1877. One of the first things he said was, that the theory +which had pleased him more than anything he had heard of for some time +was one referring all life to memory. I said that was exactly what I was +doing myself, and inquired where he had met with his theory. He replied +that Professor Ray Lankester had written a letter about it in _Nature_ +some time ago, but he could not remember exactly when, and had given +extracts from a lecture by Professor Ewald Hering, who had originated the +theory. I said I should not look at it, as I had completed that part of +my work, and was on the point of going to press. I could not recast my +work if, as was most likely, I should find something, when I saw what +Professor Hering had said, which would make me wish to rewrite my own +book; it was too late in the day and I did not feel equal to making any +radical alteration; and so the matter ended with very little said upon +either side. I wrote, however, afterwards to my friend asking him to +tell me the number of _Nature_ which contained the lecture if he could +find it, but he was unable to do so, and I was well enough content. + +A few days before this I had met another friend, and had explained to him +what I was doing. He told me I ought to read Professor Mivart’s “Genesis +of Species,” and that if I did so I should find there were two sides to +“natural selection.” Thinking, as so many people do—and no wonder—that +“natural selection” and evolution were much the same thing, and having +found so many attacks upon evolution produce no effect upon me, I +declined to read it. I had as yet no idea that a writer could attack +Neo-Darwinism without attacking evolution. But my friend kindly sent me +a copy; and when I read it, I found myself in the presence of arguments +different from those I had met with hitherto, and did not see my way to +answering them. I had, however, read only a small part of Professor +Mivart’s work, and was not fully awake to the position, when the friend +referred to in the preceding paragraph called on me. + +When I had finished the “Genesis of Species,” I felt that something was +certainly wanted which should give a definite aim to the variations whose +accumulation was to amount ultimately to specific and generic +differences, and that without this there could have been no progress in +organic development. I got the latest edition of the “Origin of Species” +in order to see how Mr. Darwin met Professor Mivart, and found his +answers in many respects unsatisfactory. I had lost my original copy of +the “Origin of Species,” and had not read the book for some years. I now +set about reading it again, and came to the chapter on instinct, where I +was horrified to find the following passage:— + + “But it would be a serious error to suppose that the greater number + of instincts have been acquired by habit in one generation and then + transmitted by inheritance to the succeeding generations. It can be + clearly shown that the most wonderful instincts with which we are + acquainted, namely, those of the hive-bee and of many ants, could not + possibly have been acquired by habit.” {23a} + +This showed that, according to Mr. Darwin, I had fallen into serious +error, and my faith in him, though somewhat shaken, was far too great to +be destroyed by a few days’ course of Professor Mivart, the full +importance of whose work I had not yet apprehended. I continued to read, +and when I had finished the chapter felt sure that I must indeed have +been blundering. The concluding words, “I am surprised that no one has +hitherto advanced this demonstrative case of neuter insects against the +well-known doctrine of inherited habit as advanced by Lamarck,” {23b} +were positively awful. There was a quiet consciousness of strength about +them which was more convincing than any amount of more detailed +explanation. This was the first I had heard of any doctrine of inherited +habit as having been propounded by Lamarck (the passage stands in the +first edition, “the well-known doctrine of Lamarck,” p. 242); and now to +find that I had been only busying myself with a stale theory of this +long-since exploded charlatan—with my book three parts written and +already in the press—it was a serious scare. + +On reflection, however, I was again met with the overwhelming weight of +the evidence in favour of structure and habit being mainly due to memory. +I accordingly gathered as much as I could second-hand of what Lamarck had +said, reserving a study of his “Philosophie Zoologique” for another +occasion, and read as much about ants and bees as I could find in readily +accessible works. In a few days I saw my way again; and now, reading the +“Origin of Species” more closely, and I may say more sceptically, the +antagonism between Mr. Darwin and Lamarck became fully apparent to me, +and I saw how incoherent and unworkable in practice the later view was in +comparison with the earlier. Then I read Mr. Darwin’s answers to +miscellaneous objections, and was met, and this time brought up, by the +passage beginning “In the earlier editions of this work,” {24a} &c., on +which I wrote very severely in “Life and Habit”; {24b} for I felt by this +time that the difference of opinion between us was radical, and that the +matter must be fought out according to the rules of the game. After this +I went through the earlier part of my book, and cut out the expressions +which I had used inadvertently, and which were inconsistent with a +teleological view. This necessitated only verbal alterations; for, +though I had not known it, the spirit of the book was throughout +teleological. + +I now saw that I had got my hands full, and abandoned my intention of +touching upon “Pangenesis.” I took up the words of Mr. Darwin quoted +above, to the effect that it would be a serious error to ascribe the +greater number of instincts to transmitted habit. I wrote chapter xi. of +“Life and Habit,” which is headed “Instincts as Inherited Memory”; I also +wrote the four subsequent chapters, “Instincts of Neuter Insects,” +“Lamarck and Mr. Darwin,” “Mr. Mivart and Mr. Darwin,” and the concluding +chapter, all of them in the month of October and the early part of +November 1877, the complete book leaving the binder’s hands December 4, +1877, but, according to trade custom, being dated 1878. It will be seen +that these five concluding chapters were rapidly written, and this may +account in part for the directness with which I said anything I had to +say about Mr. Darwin; partly this, and partly I felt I was in for a penny +and might as well be in for a pound. I therefore wrote about Mr. +Darwin’s work exactly as I should about any one else’s, bearing in mind +the inestimable services he had undoubtedly—and must always be counted to +have—rendered to evolution. + + + + +Chapter III + + +How I came to write “Evolution, Old and New”—Mr Darwin’s “brief but +imperfect” sketch of the opinions of the writers on evolution who had +preceded him—The reception which “Evolution, Old and New,” met with. + +THOUGH my book was out in 1877, it was not till January 1878 that I took +an opportunity of looking up Professor Ray Lankester’s account of +Professor Hering’s lecture. I can hardly say how relieved I was to find +that it sprung no mine upon me, but that, so far as I could gather, +Professor Hering and I had come to pretty much the same conclusion. I +had already found the passage in Dr. Erasmus Darwin which I quoted in +“Evolution, Old and New,” but may perhaps as well repeat it here. It +runs— + + “Owing to the imperfection of language, the offspring is termed a new + animal; but is, in truth, a branch or elongation of the parent, since + a part of the embryon animal is or was a part of the parent, and, + therefore, in strict language, cannot be said to be entirely new at + the time of its production, and, therefore, it may retain some of the + habits of the parent system.” {26} + +When, then, the _Athenæum_ reviewed “Life and Habit” (January 26, 1878), +I took the opportunity to write to that paper, calling attention to +Professor Hering’s lecture, and also to the passage just quoted from Dr. +Erasmus Darwin. The editor kindly inserted my letter in his issue of +February 9, 1878. I felt that I had now done all in the way of +acknowledgment to Professor Hering which it was, for the time, in my +power to do. + +I again took up Mr. Darwin’s “Origin of Species,” this time, I admit, in +a spirit of scepticism. I read his “brief but imperfect” sketch of the +progress of opinion on the origin of species, and turned to each one of +the writers he had mentioned. First, I read all the parts of the +“Zoonomia” that were not purely medical, and was astonished to find that, +as Dr. Krause has since said in his essay on Erasmus Darwin, “_he was the +first who proposed and persistently carried out a well-rounded theory +with regard to the development of the living world_” {27} (italics in +original). + +This is undoubtedly the case, and I was surprised at finding Professor +Huxley say concerning this very eminent man that he could “hardly be said +to have made any real advance upon his predecessors.” Still more was I +surprised at remembering that, in the first edition of the “Origin of +Species,” Dr. Erasmus Darwin had never been so much as named; while in +the “brief but imperfect” sketch he was dismissed with a line of +half-contemptuous patronage, as though the mingled tribute of admiration +and curiosity which attaches to scientific prophecies, as distinguished +from discoveries, was the utmost he was entitled to. “It is curious,” +says Mr. Darwin innocently, in the middle of a note in the smallest +possible type, “how largely my grandfather, Dr. Erasmus Darwin, +anticipated the views and erroneous grounds of opinion of Lamarck in his +‘Zoonomia’ (vol. i. pp. 500–510), published in 1794”; this was all he had +to say about the founder of “Darwinism,” until I myself unearthed Dr. +Erasmus Darwin, and put his work fairly before the present generation in +“Evolution, Old and New.” Six months after I had done this, I had the +satisfaction of seeing that Mr. Darwin had woke up to the propriety of +doing much the same thing, and that he had published an interesting and +charmingly written memoir of his grandfather, of which more anon. + +Not that Dr. Darwin was the first to catch sight of a complete theory of +evolution. Buffon was the first to point out that, in view of the known +modifications which had been effected among our domesticated animals and +cultivated plants, the ass and the horse should be considered as, in all +probability, descended from a common ancestor; yet, if this is so, he +writes—if the point “were once gained that among animals and vegetables +there had been, I do not say several species, but even a single one, +which had been produced in the course of direct descent from another +species; if, for example, it could be once shown that the ass was but a +degeneration from the horse, then there is no further limit to be set to +the power of Nature, and we should not be wrong in supposing that, with +sufficient time, she has evolved all other organised forms from one +primordial type” {28a} (_et l’on n’auroit pas tort de supposer_, _que +d’un seul être elle a su tirer avec le temps tous les autres êtres +organisés_). + +This, I imagine, in spite of Professor Huxley’s dictum, is contributing a +good deal to the general doctrine of evolution; for though Descartes and +Leibnitz may have thrown out hints pointing more or less broadly in the +direction of evolution, some of which Professor Huxley has quoted, he has +adduced nothing approaching to the passage from Buffon given above, +either in respect of the clearness with which the conclusion intended to +be arrived at is pointed out, or the breadth of view with which the whole +ground of animal and vegetable nature is covered. The passage referred +to is only one of many to the same effect, and must be connected with one +quoted in “Evolution, Old and New,” {28b} from p. 13 of Buffon’s first +volume, which appeared in 1749, and than which nothing can well point +more plainly in the direction of evolution. It is not easy, therefore, +to understand why Professor Huxley should give 1753–78 as the date of +Buffon’s work, nor yet why he should say that Buffon was “at first a +partisan of the absolute immutability of species,” {29a} unless, indeed, +we suppose he has been content to follow that very unsatisfactory writer, +Isidore Geoffroy St. Hilaire (who falls into this error, and says that +Buffon’s first volume on animals appeared 1753), without verifying him, +and without making any reference to him. + +Professor Huxley quotes a passage from the “Palingénésie Philosophique” +of Bonnet, of which he says that, making allowance for his peculiar views +on the subject of generation, they bear no small resemblance to what is +understood by “evolution” at the present day. The most important parts +of the passage quoted are as follows:— + + “Should I be going too far if I were to conjecture that the plants + and animals of the present day have arisen by a sort of natural + evolution from the organised beings which peopled the world in its + original state as it left the hands of the Creator? . . . In the + outset organised beings were probably very different from what they + are now—as different as the original world is from our present one. + We have no means of estimating the amount of these differences, but + it is possible that even our ablest naturalist, if transplanted to + the original world, would entirely fail to recognise our plants and + animals therein.” {29b} + +But this is feeble in comparison with Buffon, and did not appear till +1769, when Buffon had been writing on evolution for fully twenty years +with the eyes of scientific Europe upon him. Whatever concession to the +opinion of Buffon Bonnet may have been inclined to make in 1769, in 1764, +when he published his “Contemplation de la Nature,” and in 1762 when his +“Considérations sur les Corps Organes” appeared, he cannot be considered +to have been a supporter of evolution. I went through these works in +1878 when I was writing “Evolution, Old and New,” to see whether I could +claim him as on my side; but though frequently delighted with his work, I +found it impossible to press him into my service. + +The pre-eminent claim of Buffon to be considered as the father of the +modern doctrine of evolution cannot be reasonably disputed, though he was +doubtless led to his conclusions by the works of Descartes and Leibnitz, +of both of whom he was an avowed and very warm admirer. His claim does +not rest upon a passage here or there, but upon the spirit of forty +quartos written over a period of about as many years. Nevertheless he +wrote, as I have shown in “Evolution, Old and New,” of set purpose +enigmatically, whereas there was no beating about the bush with Dr. +Darwin. He speaks straight out, and Dr. Krause is justified in saying of +him “_that he was the first who proposed and persistently carried out a +well-rounded theory_” of evolution. + +I now turned to Lamarck. I read the first volume of the “Philosophie +Zoologique,” analysed it and translated the most important parts. The +second volume was beside my purpose, dealing as it does rather with the +origin of life than of species, and travelling too fast and too far for +me to be able to keep up with him. Again I was astonished at the little +mention Mr. Darwin had made of this illustrious writer, at the manner in +which he had motioned him away, as it were, with his hand in the first +edition of the “Origin of Species,” and at the brevity and imperfection +of the remarks made upon him in the subsequent historical sketch. + +I got Isidore Geoffroy’s “Histoire Naturelle Générale,” which Mr. Darwin +commends in the note on the second page of the historical sketch, as +giving “an excellent history of opinion” upon the subject of evolution, +and a full account of Buffon’s conclusions upon the same subject. This +at least is what I supposed Mr. Darwin to mean. What he said was that +Isidore Geoffroy gives an excellent history of opinion on the subject of +the date of the first publication of Lamarck, and that in his work there +is a full account of Buffon’s fluctuating conclusions upon _the same +subject_. {31} But Mr. Darwin is a more than commonly puzzling writer. +I read what M. Geoffroy had to say upon Buffon, and was surprised to find +that, after all, according to M. Geoffroy, Buffon, and not Lamarck, was +the founder of the theory of evolution. His name, as I have already +said, was never mentioned in the first edition of the “Origin of +Species.” + +M. Geoffroy goes into the accusations of having fluctuated in his +opinions, which he tells us have been brought against Buffon, and comes +to the conclusion that they are unjust, as any one else will do who turns +to Buffon himself. Mr. Darwin, however, in the “brief but imperfect +sketch,” catches at the accusation, and repeats it while saying nothing +whatever about the defence. The following is still all he says: “The +first author who in modern times has treated” evolution “in a scientific +spirit was Buffon. But as his opinions fluctuated greatly at different +periods, and as he does not enter on the causes or means of the +transformation of species, I need not here enter on details.” On the +next page, in the note last quoted, Mr. Darwin originally repeated the +accusation of Buffon’s having been fluctuating in his opinions, and +appeared to give it the imprimatur of Isidore Geoffroy’s approval; the +fact being that Isidore Geoffroy only quoted the accusation in order to +refute it; and though, I suppose, meaning well, did not make half the +case he might have done, and abounds with misstatements. My readers will +find this matter particularly dealt with in “Evolution, Old and New,” +Chapter X. + +I gather that some one must have complained to Mr. Darwin of his saying +that Isidore Geoffroy gave an account of Buffon’s “fluctuating +conclusions” concerning evolution, when he was doing all he knew to +maintain that Buffon’s conclusions did not fluctuate; for I see that in +the edition of 1876 the word “fluctuating” has dropped out of the note in +question, and we now learn that Isidore Geoffroy gives “a full account of +Buffon’s conclusions,” without the “fluctuating.” But Buffon has not +taken much by this, for his opinions are still left fluctuating greatly +at different periods on the preceding page, and though he still was the +first to treat evolution in a scientific spirit, he still does not enter +upon the causes or means of the transformation of species. No one can +understand Mr. Darwin who does not collate the different editions of the +“Origin of Species” with some attention. When he has done this, he will +know what Newton meant by saying he felt like a child playing with +pebbles upon the seashore. + +One word more upon this note before I leave it. Mr. Darwin speaks of +Isidore Geoffroy’s history of opinion as “excellent,” and his account of +Buffon’s opinions as “full.” I wonder how well qualified he is to be a +judge of these matters? If he knows much about the earlier writers, he +is the more inexcusable for having said so little about them. If little, +what is his opinion worth? + +To return to the “brief but imperfect sketch.” I do not think I can ever +again be surprised at anything Mr. Darwin may say or do, but if I could, +I should wonder how a writer who did not “enter upon the causes or means +of the transformation of species,” and whose opinions “fluctuated greatly +at different periods,” can be held to have treated evolution “in a +scientific spirit.” Nevertheless, when I reflect upon the scientific +reputation Mr. Darwin has attained, and the means by which he has won it, +I suppose the scientific spirit must be much what he here implies. I see +Mr. Darwin says of his own father, Dr. Robert Darwin of Shrewsbury, that +he does not consider him to have had a scientific mind. Mr. Darwin +cannot tell why he does not think his father’s mind to have been fitted +for advancing science, “for he was fond of theorising, and was +incomparably the best observer” Mr. Darwin ever knew. {33a} From the +hint given in the “brief but imperfect sketch,” I fancy I can help Mr. +Darwin to see why he does not think his father’s mind to have been a +scientific one. It is possible that Dr. Robert Darwin’s opinions did not +fluctuate sufficiently at different periods, and that Mr. Darwin +considered him as having in some way entered upon the causes or means of +the transformation of species. Certainly those who read Mr. Darwin’s own +works attentively will find no lack of fluctuation in his case; and +reflection will show them that a theory of evolution which relies mainly +on the accumulation of accidental variations comes very close to not +entering upon the causes or means of the transformation of species. {33b} + +I have shown, however, in “Evolution, Old and New,” that the assertion +that Buffon does not enter on the causes or means of the transformation +of species is absolutely without foundation, and that, on the contrary, +he is continually dealing with this very matter, and devotes to it one of +his longest and most important chapters, {33c} but I admit that he is +less satisfactory on this head than either Dr. Erasmus Darwin or Lamarck. + +As a matter of fact, Buffon is much more of a Neo-Darwinian than either +Dr. Erasmus Darwin or Lamarck, for with him the variations are sometimes +fortuitous. In the case of the dog, he speaks of them as making their +appearance “_by some chance_ common enough with Nature,” {33d} and being +perpetuated by man’s selection. This is exactly the “if any slight +favourable variation _happen_ to arise” of Mr. Charles Darwin. Buffon +also speaks of the variations among pigeons arising “_par hasard_.” But +these expressions are only ships; his main cause of variation is the +direct action of changed conditions of existence, while with Dr. Erasmus +Darwin and Lamarck the action of the conditions of existence is indirect, +the direct action being that of the animals or plants themselves, in +consequence of changed sense of need under changed conditions. + +I should say that the sketch so often referred to is at first sight now +no longer imperfect in Mr. Darwin’s opinion. It was “brief but +imperfect” in 1861 and in 1866, but in 1876 I see that it is brief only. +Of course, discovering that it was no longer imperfect, I expected to +find it briefer. What, then, was my surprise at finding that it had +become rather longer? I have found no perfectly satisfactory explanation +of this inconsistency, but, on the whole, incline to think that the +“greatest of living men” felt himself unequal to prolonging his struggle +with the word “but,” and resolved to lay that conjunction at all hazards, +even though the doing so might cost him the balance of his adjectives; +for I think he must know that his sketch is still imperfect. + +From Isidore Geoffroy I turned to Buffon himself, and had not long to +wait before I felt that I was now brought into communication with the +master-mind of all those who have up to the present time busied +themselves with evolution. For a brief and imperfect sketch of him, I +must refer my readers to “Evolution, Old and New.” + +I have no great respect for the author of the “Vestiges of Creation,” who +behaved hardly better to the writers upon whom his own work was founded +than Mr. Darwin himself has done. Nevertheless, I could not forget the +gravity of the misrepresentation with which he was assailed on page 3 of +the first edition of the “Origin of Species,” nor impugn the justice of +his rejoinder in the following year, {34} when he replied that it was to +be regretted Mr. Darwin had read his work “almost as much amiss as if, +like its declared opponents, he had an interest in misrepresenting it.” +{35a} I could not, again, forget that, though Mr. Darwin did not venture +to stand by the passage in question, it was expunged without a word of +apology or explanation of how it was that he had come to write it. A +writer with any claim to our consideration will never fall into serious +error about another writer without hastening to make a public apology as +soon as he becomes aware of what he has done. + +Reflecting upon the substance of what I have written in the last few +pages, I thought it right that people should have a chance of knowing +more about the earlier writers on evolution than they were likely to hear +from any of our leading scientists (no matter how many lectures they may +give on the coming of age of the “Origin of Species”) except Professor +Mivart. A book pointing the difference between teleological and +non-teleological views of evolution seemed likely to be useful, and would +afford me the opportunity I wanted for giving a _résumé_ of the views of +each one of the three chief founders of the theory, and of contrasting +them with those of Mr. Charles Darwin, as well as for calling attention +to Professor Hering’s lecture. I accordingly wrote “Evolution, Old and +New,” which was prominently announced in the leading literary periodicals +at the end of February, or on the very first days of March 1879, {35b} as +“a comparison of the theories of Buffon, Dr. Erasmus Darwin, and Lamarck, +with that of Mr. Charles Darwin, with copious extracts from the works of +the three first-named writers.” In this book I was hardly able to +conceal the fact that, in spite of the obligations under which we must +always remain to Mr. Darwin, I had lost my respect for him and for his +work. + +I should point out that this announcement, coupled with what I had +written in “Life and Habit,” would enable Mr. Darwin and his friends to +form a pretty shrewd guess as to what I was likely to say, and to quote +from Dr. Erasmus Darwin in my forthcoming book. The announcement, +indeed, would tell almost as much as the book itself to those who knew +the works of Erasmus Darwin. + +As may be supposed, “Evolution, Old and New,” met with a very +unfavourable reception at the hands of many of its reviewers. The +_Saturday Review_ was furious. “When a writer,” it exclaimed, “who has +not given as many weeks to the subject as Mr. Darwin has given years, is +not content to air his own crude though clever fallacies, but assumes to +criticise Mr. Darwin with the superciliousness of a young schoolmaster +looking over a boy’s theme, it is difficult not to take him more +seriously than he deserves or perhaps desires. One would think that Mr. +Butler was the travelled and laborious observer of Nature, and Mr. Darwin +the pert speculator who takes all his facts at secondhand.” {36} + +The lady or gentleman who writes in such a strain as this should not be +too hard upon others whom she or he may consider to write like +schoolmasters. It is true I have travelled—not much, but still as much +as many others, and have endeavoured to keep my eyes open to the facts +before me; but I cannot think that I made any reference to my travels in +“Evolution, Old and New.” I did not quite see what that had to do with +the matter. A man may get to know a good deal without ever going beyond +the four-mile radius from Charing Cross. Much less did I imply that Mr. +Darwin was pert: pert is one of the last words that can be applied to Mr. +Darwin. Nor, again, had I blamed him for taking his facts at secondhand; +no one is to be blamed for this, provided he takes well-established facts +and acknowledges his sources. Mr. Darwin has generally gone to good +sources. The ground of complaint against him is that he muddied the +water after he had drawn it, and tacitly claimed to be the rightful owner +of the spring, on the score of the damage he had effected. + +Notwithstanding, however, the generally hostile, or more or less +contemptuous, reception which “Evolution, Old and New,” met with, there +were some reviews—as, for example, those in the _Field_, {37a} the _Daily +Chronicle_, {37b} the _Athenæum_, {37c} the _Journal of Science_, {37d} +the _British Journal of Homæopathy_, {37e} the _Daily News_, {37f} the +_Popular Science Review_ {37g}—which were all I could expect or wish. + + + + +Chapter IV + + +The manner in which Mr. Darwin met “Evolution, Old and New.” + +BY far the most important notice of “Evolution, Old and New,” was that +taken by Mr. Darwin himself; for I can hardly be mistaken in believing +that Dr. Krause’s article would have been allowed to repose unaltered in +the pages of the well-known German scientific journal, _Kosmos_, unless +something had happened to make Mr. Darwin feel that his reticence +concerning his grandfather must now be ended. + +Mr. Darwin, indeed, gives me the impression of wishing me to understand +that this is not the case. At the beginning of this year he wrote to me, +in a letter which I will presently give in full, that he had obtained Dr. +Krause’s consent for a translation, and had arranged with Mr. Dallas, +before my book was “announced.” “I remember this,” he continues, +“because Mr. Dallas wrote to tell me of the advertisement.” But Mr. +Darwin is not a clear writer, and it is impossible to say whether he is +referring to the announcement of “Evolution, Old and New”—in which case +he means that the arrangements for the translation of Dr. Krause’s +article were made before the end of February 1879, and before any public +intimation could have reached him as to the substance of the book on +which I was then engaged—or to the advertisements of its being now +published, which appeared at the beginning of May; in which case, as I +have said above, Mr. Darwin and his friends had for some time had full +opportunity of knowing what I was about. I believe, however, Mr. Darwin +to intend that he remembered the arrangements having been made before the +beginning of May—his use of the word “announced,” instead of +“advertised,” being an accident; but let this pass. + +Some time after Mr. Darwin’s work appeared in November 1879, I got it, +and looking at the last page of the book, I read as follows:— + + “They” (the elder Darwin and Lamarck) “explain the adaptation to + purpose of organisms by an obscure impulse or sense of what is + purpose-like; yet even with regard to man we are in the habit of + saying, that one can never know what so-and-so is good for. The + purpose-like is that which approves itself, and not always that which + is struggled for by obscure impulses and desires. Just in the same + way the beautiful is what pleases.” + +I had a sort of feeling as though the writer of the above might have had +“Evolution, Old and New,” in his mind, but went on to the next sentence, +which ran— + + “Erasmus Darwin’s system was in itself a most significant first step + in the path of knowledge which his grandson has opened up for us, but + to wish to revive it at the present day, as has actually been + seriously attempted, shows a weakness of thought and a mental + anachronism which no one can envy.” + +“That’s me,” said I to myself promptly. I noticed also the position in +which the sentence stood, which made it both one of the first that would +be likely to catch a reader’s eye, and the last he would carry away with +him. I therefore expected to find an open reply to some parts of +“Evolution, Old and New,” and turned to Mr. Darwin’s preface. + +To my surprise, I there found that what I had been reading could not by +any possibility refer to me, for the preface ran as follows:— + + “In the February number of a well-known German scientific journal, + _Kosmos_, {39} Dr. Ernest Krause published a sketch of the ‘Life of + Erasmus Darwin,’ the author of the ‘Zoonomia,’ ‘Botanic Garden,’ and + other works. This article bears the title of a ‘Contribution to the + History of the Descent Theory’; and Dr. Krause has kindly allowed my + brother Erasmus and myself to have a translation made of it for + publication in this country.” + +Then came a note as follows:— + + “Mr. Dallas has undertaken the translation, and his scientific + reputation, together with his knowledge of German, is a guarantee for + its accuracy.” + +I ought to have suspected inaccuracy where I found so much consciousness +of accuracy, but I did not. However this may be, Mr. Darwin pins himself +down with every circumstance of preciseness to giving Dr. Krause’s +article as it appeared in _Kosmos_,—the whole article, and nothing but +the article. No one could know this better than Mr. Darwin. + +On the second page of Mr. Darwin’s preface there is a small-type note +saying that my work, “Evolution, Old and New,” had appeared since the +publication of Dr. Krause’s article. Mr. Darwin thus distinctly +precludes his readers from supposing that any passage they might meet +with could have been written in reference to, or by the light of, my +book. If anything appeared condemnatory of that book, it was an +undesigned coincidence, and would show how little worthy of consideration +I must be when my opinions were refuted in advance by one who could have +no bias in regard to them. + +Knowing that if the article I was about to read appeared in February, it +must have been published before my book, which was not out till three +months later, I saw nothing in Mr. Darwin’s preface to complain of, and +felt that this was only another instance of my absurd vanity having led +me to rush to conclusions without sufficient grounds,—as if it was +likely, indeed, that Mr. Darwin should think what I had said of +sufficient importance to be affected by it. It was plain that some one +besides myself, of whom I as yet knew nothing, had been writing about the +elder Darwin, and had taken much the same line concerning him that I had +done. It was for the benefit of this person, then, that Dr. Krause’s +paragraph was intended. I returned to a becoming sense of my own +insignificance, and began to read what I supposed to be an accurate +translation of Dr. Krause’s article as it originally appeared, before +“Evolution, Old and New,” was published. + +On pp. 3 and 4 of Dr. Krause’s part of Mr. Darwin’s book (pp. 133 and 134 +of the book itself), I detected a sub-apologetic tone which a little +surprised me, and a notice of the fact that Coleridge when writing on +Stillingfleet had used the word “Darwinising.” Mr. R. Garnett had called +my attention to this, and I had mentioned it in “Evolution, Old and New,” +but the paragraph only struck me as being a little odd. + +When I got a few pages farther on (p. 147 of Mr. Darwin’s book), I found +a long quotation from Buffon about rudimentary organs, which I had quoted +in “Evolution, Old and New.” I observed that Dr. Krause used the same +edition of Buffon that I did, and began his quotation two lines from the +beginning of Buffon’s paragraph, exactly as I had done; also that he had +taken his nominative from the omitted part of the sentence across a full +stop, as I had myself taken it. A little lower I found a line of +Buffon’s omitted which I had given, but I found that at that place I had +inadvertently left two pair of inverted commas which ought to have come +out, {41} having intended to end my quotation, but changed my mind and +continued it without erasing the commas. It seemed to me that these +commas had bothered Dr. Krause, and made him think it safer to leave +something out, for the line he omits is a very good one. I noticed that +he translated “Mais comme nous voulons toujours tout rapporter à un +certain but,” “But we, always wishing to refer,” &c., while I had it, +“But we, ever on the look-out to refer,” &c.; and “Nous ne faisons pas +attention que nous altérons la philosophie,” “We fail to see that thus we +deprive philosophy of her true character,” whereas I had “We fail to see +that we thus rob philosophy of her true character.” This last was too +much; and though it might turn out that Dr. Krause had quoted this +passage before I had done so, had used the same edition as I had, had +begun two lines from the beginning of a paragraph as I had done, and that +the later resemblances were merely due to Mr. Dallas having compared Dr. +Krause’s German translation of Buffon with my English, and very properly +made use of it when he thought fit, it looked _primâ facie_ more as +though my quotation had been copied in English as it stood, and then +altered, but not quite altered enough. This, in the face of the preface, +was incredible; but so many points had such an unpleasant aspect, that I +thought it better to send for _Kosmos_ and see what I could make out. + +At this time I knew not one word of German. On the same day, therefore, +that I sent for _Kosmos_ I began acquire that language, and in the +fortnight before _Kosmos_ came had got far enough forward for all +practical purposes—that is to say, with the help of a translation and a +dictionary, I could see whether or no a German passage was the same as +what purported to be its translation. + +When _Kosmos_ came I turned to the end of the article to see how the +sentence about mental anachronism and weakness of thought looked in +German. I found nothing of the kind, the original article ended with +some innocent rhyming doggerel about somebody going on and exploring +something with eagle eye; but ten lines from the end I found a sentence +which corresponded with one six pages from the end of the English +translation. After this there could be little doubt that the whole of +these last six English pages were spurious matter. What little doubt +remained was afterwards removed by my finding that they had no place in +any part of the genuine article. I looked for the passage about +Coleridge’s using the word “Darwinising”; it was not to be found in the +German. I looked for the piece I had quoted from Buffon about +rudimentary organs; but there was nothing of it, nor indeed any reference +to Buffon. It was plain, therefore, that the article which Mr. Darwin +had given was not the one he professed to be giving. I read Mr. Darwin’s +preface over again to see whether he left himself any loophole. There +was not a chink or cranny through which escape was possible. The only +inference that could be drawn was either that some one had imposed upon +Mr. Darwin, or that Mr. Darwin, although it was not possible to suppose +him ignorant of the interpolations that had been made, nor of the obvious +purpose of the concluding sentence, had nevertheless palmed off an +article which had been added to and made to attack “Evolution, Old and +New,” as though it were the original article which appeared before that +book was written. I could not and would not believe that Mr. Darwin had +condescended to this. Nevertheless, I saw it was necessary to sift the +whole matter, and began to compare the German and the English articles +paragraph by paragraph. + +On the first page I found a passage omitted from the English, which with +great labour I managed to get through, and can now translate as follows:— + + “Alexander Von Humboldt used to take pleasure in recounting how + powerfully Forster’s pictures of the South Sea Islands and St. + Pierre’s illustrations of Nature had provoked his ardour for travel + and influenced his career as a scientific investigator. How much + more impressively must the works of Dr. Erasmus Darwin, with their + reiterated foreshadowing of a more lofty interpretation of Nature, + have affected his grandson, who in his youth assuredly approached + them with the devotion due to the works of a renowned poet.” {43} + +I then came upon a passage common to both German and English, which in +its turn was followed in the English by the sub-apologetic paragraph +which I had been struck with on first reading, and which was not in the +German, its place being taken by a much longer passage which had no place +in the English. A little farther on I was amused at coming upon the +following, and at finding it wholly transformed in the supposed accurate +translation:— + + “How must this early and penetrating explanation of rudimentary + organs have affected the grandson when he read the poem of his + ancestor! But indeed the biological remarks of this accurate + observer in regard to certain definite natural objects must have + produced a still deeper impression upon him, pointing, as they do, to + questions which hay attained so great a prominence at the present + day; such as, Why is any creature anywhere such as we actually see it + and nothing else? Why has such and such a plant poisonous juices? + Why has such and such another thorns? Why have birds and fishes + light-coloured breasts and dark backs, and, Why does every creature + resemble the one from which it sprung?” {44a} + +I will not weary the reader with further details as to the omissions from +and additions to the German text. Let it suffice that the so-called +translation begins on p. 131 and ends on p. 216 of Mr. Darwin’s book. +There is new matter on each one of the pp. 132–139, while almost the +whole of pp. 147–152 inclusive, and the whole of pp. 211–216 inclusive, +are spurious—that is to say, not what the purport to be, not translations +from an article that was published in February 1879, and before +“Evolution, Old and New,” but interpolations not published till six +months after that book. + +Bearing in mind the contents of two of the added passages and the tenor +of the concluding sentence quoted above, {44b} I could no longer doubt +that the article had been altered by the light of and with a view to +“Evolution, Old and New.” + +The steps are perfectly clear. First Dr. Krause published his article in +_Kosmos_ and my book was announced (its purport being thus made obvious), +both in the month of February 1879. Soon afterwards arrangements were +made for a translation of Dr. Krause’s essay, and were completed by the +end of April. Then my book came out, and in some way or other Dr. Krause +happened to get hold of it. He helped himself—not to much, but to +enough; made what other additions to and omissions from his article he +thought would best meet “Evolution, Old and New,” and then fell to +condemning that book in a finale that was meant to be crushing. Nothing +was said about the revision which Dr. Krause’s work had undergone, but it +was expressly and particularly declared in the preface that the English +translation was an accurate version of what appeared in the February +number of _Kosmos_, and no less expressly and particularly stated that my +book was published subsequently to this. Both these statements are +untrue; they are in Mr. Darwin’s favour and prejudicial to myself. + +All this was done with that well-known “happy simplicity” of which the +_Pall Mall Gazette_, December 12, 1879, declared that Mr. Darwin was “a +master.” The final sentence, about the “weakness of thought and mental +anachronism which no one can envy,” was especially successful. The +reviewer in the _Pall Mall Gazette_ just quoted from gave it in full, and +said that it was thoroughly justified. He then mused forth a general +gnome that the “confidence of writers who deal in semi-scientific +paradoxes is commonly in inverse proportion to their grasp of the +subject.” Again my vanity suggested to me that I was the person for +whose benefit this gnome was intended. My vanity, indeed, was well fed +by the whole transaction; for I saw that not only did Mr. Darwin, who +should be the best judge, think my work worth notice, but that he did not +venture to meet it openly. As for Dr. Krause’s concluding sentence, I +thought that when a sentence had been antedated the less it contained +about anachronism the better. + +Only one of the reviews that I saw of Mr. Darwin’s “Life of Erasmus +Darwin” showed any knowledge of the facts. The _Popular Science Review_ +for January 1880, in flat contradiction to Mr. Darwin’s preface, said +that only part of Dr. Krause’s article was being given by Mr. Darwin. +This reviewer had plainly seen both _Kosmos_ and Mr. Darwin’s book. + +In the same number of the _Popular Science Review_, and immediately +following the review of Mr. Darwin’s book, there is a review of +“Evolution, Old and New.” The writer of this review quotes the passage +about mental anachronism as quoted by the reviewer in the _Pall Mall +Gazette_, and adds immediately: “This anachronism has been committed by +Mr. Samuel Butler in a . . . little volume now before us, and it is +doubtless to this, _which appeared while his own work was in progress_ +[italics mine] that Dr. Krause alludes in the foregoing passage.” +Considering that the editor of the _Popular Science Review_ and the +translator of Dr. Krause’s article for Mr. Darwin are one and the same +person, it is likely the _Popular Science Review_ is well informed in +saying that my book appeared before Dr. Krause’s article had been +transformed into its present shape, and that my book was intended by the +passage in question. + +Unable to see any way of escaping from a conclusion which I could not +willingly adopt, I thought it best to write to Mr. Darwin, stating the +facts as they appeared to myself, and asking an explanation, which I +would have gladly strained a good many points to have accepted. It is +better, perhaps, that I should give my letter and Darwin’s answer in +full. My letter ran thus:— + + _January_ 2, 1880. + + CHARLES DARWIN, ESQ., F.R.S., &c. + + DEAR SIR,—Will you kindly refer me to the edition of _Kosmos_ which + contains the text of Dr. Krause’s article on Dr. Erasmus Darwin, as + translated by Mr. W. S. Dallas? + + I have before me the last February number of _Kosmos_, which appears + by your preface to be the one from which Mr. Dallas has translated, + but his translation contains long and important passages which are + not in the February number of _Kosmos_, while many passages in the + original article are omitted in the translation. + + Among the passages introduced are the last six pages of the English + article, which seem to condemn by anticipation the position I have + taken as regards Dr. Erasmus Darwin in my book, “Evolution, Old and + New,” and which I believe I was the first to take. The concluding, + and therefore, perhaps, most prominent sentence of the translation + you have given to the public stands thus:— + + “Erasmus Darwin’s system was in itself a most significant first step + in the path of knowledge which his grandson has opened up for us, but + to wish to revive it at the present day, as has actually been + seriously attempted, shows a weakness of thought and a mental + anachronism which no man can envy.” + + The _Kosmos_ which has been sent me from Germany contains no such + passage. + + As you have stated in your preface that my book, “Evolution, Old and + New,” appeared subsequently to Dr. Krause’s article, and as no + intimation is given that the article has been altered and added to + since its original appearance, while the accuracy of the translation + as though from the February number of _Kosmos_ is, as you expressly + say, guaranteed by Mr. Dallas’s “scientific reputation together with + his knowledge of German,” your readers will naturally suppose that + all they read in the translation appeared in February last, and + therefore before “Evolution, Old and New,” was written, and therefore + independently of, and necessarily without reference to, that book. + + I do not doubt that this was actually the case, but have failed to + obtain the edition which contains the passage above referred to, and + several others which appear in the translation. + + I have a personal interest in this matter, and venture, therefore, to + ask for the explanation which I do not doubt you will readily give + me.—Yours faithfully, S. BUTLER. + +The following is Mr. Darwin’s answer:— + + _January_ 3, 1880. + + MY DEAR SIR,—Dr. Krause, soon after the appearance of his article in + _Kosmos_ told me that he intended to publish it separately and to + alter it considerably, and the altered MS. was sent to Mr. Dallas for + translation. This is so common a practice that it never occurred to + me to state that the article had been modified; but now I much regret + that I did not do so. The original will soon appear in German, and I + believe will be a much larger book than the English one; for, with + Dr. Krause’s consent, many long extracts from Miss Seward were + omitted (as well as much other matter), from being in my opinion + superfluous for the English reader. I believe that the omitted parts + will appear as notes in the German edition. Should there be a + reprint of the English Life I will state that the original as it + appeared in _Kosmos_ was modified by Dr. Krause before it was + translated. I may add that I had obtained Dr. Krause’s consent for a + translation, and had arranged with Mr. Dallas before your book was + announced. I remember this because Mr. Dallas wrote to tell me of + the advertisement.—I remain, yours faithfully, C. DARWIN. + +This was not a letter I could accept. If Mr. Darwin had said that by +some inadvertence, which he was unable to excuse or account for, a +blunder had been made which he would at once correct so far as was in his +power by a letter to the _Times_ or the _Athenæum_, and that a notice of +the erratum should be printed on a flyleaf and pasted into all unsold +copies of the “Life of Erasmus Darwin,” there would have been no more +heard about the matter from me; but when Mr. Darwin maintained that it +was a common practice to take advantage of an opportunity of revising a +work to interpolate a covert attack upon an opponent, and at the same +time to misdate the interpolated matter by expressly stating that it +appeared months sooner than it actually did, and prior to the work which +it attacked; when he maintained that what was being done was “so common a +practice that it never occurred,” to him—the writer of some twenty +volumes—to do what all literary men must know to be inexorably requisite, +I thought this was going far beyond what was permissible in honourable +warfare, and that it was time, in the interests of literary and +scientific morality, even more than in my own, to appeal to public +opinion. I was particularly struck with the use of the words “it never +occurred to me,” and felt how completely of a piece it was with the +opening paragraph of the “Origin of Species.” It was not merely that it +did not occur to Mr. Darwin to state that the article had been modified +since it was written—this would have been bad enough under the +circumstances but that it did occur to him to go out of his way to say +what was not true. There was no necessity for him to have said anything +about my book. It appeared, moreover, inadequate to tell me that if a +reprint of the English Life was wanted (which might or might not be the +case, and if it was not the case, why, a shrug of the shoulders, and I +must make the best of it), Mr. Darwin might perhaps silently omit his +note about my book, as he omitted his misrepresentation of the author of +the “Vestiges of Creation,” and put the words “revised and corrected by +the author” on his title-page. + +No matter how high a writer may stand, nor what services he may have +unquestionably rendered, it cannot be for the general well-being that he +should be allowed to set aside the fundamental principles of +straightforwardness and fair play. When I thought of Buffon, of Dr. +Erasmus Darwin, of Lamarck and even of the author of the “Vestiges of +Creation,” to all of whom Mr. Darwin had dealt the same measure which he +was now dealing to myself; when I thought of these great men, now dumb, +who had borne the burden and heat of the day, and whose laurels had been +filched from them; of the manner, too, in which Mr. Darwin had been +abetted by those who should have been the first to detect the fallacy +which had misled him; of the hotbed of intrigue which science has now +become; of the disrepute into which we English must fall as a nation if +such practices as Mr. Darwin had attempted in this case were to be +tolerated;—when I thought of all this, I felt that though prayers for the +repose of dead men’s souls might be unavailing, yet a defence of their +work and memory, no matter against what odds, might avail the living, and +resolved that I would do my utmost to make my countrymen aware of the +spirit now ruling among those whom they delight to honour. + +At first I thought I ought to continue the correspondence privately with +Mr. Darwin, and explain to him that his letter was insufficient, but on +reflection I felt that little good was likely to come of a second letter, +if what I had already written was not enough. I therefore wrote to the +_Athenæum_ and gave a condensed account of the facts contained in the +last ten or a dozen pages. My letter appeared January 31, 1880. {50} + +The accusation was a very grave one; it was made in a very public place. +I gave my name; I adduced the strongest _primâ facie_ grounds for the +acceptance of my statements; but there was no rejoinder, and for the best +of all reasons—that no rejoinder was possible. Besides, what is the good +of having a reputation for candour if one may not stand upon it at a +pinch? I never yet knew a person with an especial reputation for candour +without finding sooner or later that he had developed it as animals +develop their organs, through “sense of need.” Not only did Mr. Darwin +remain perfectly quiet, but all reviewers and _littérateurs_ remained +perfectly quiet also. It seemed—though I do not for a moment believe +that this is so—as if public opinion rather approved of what Mr. Darwin +had done, and of his silence than otherwise. I saw the “Life of Erasmus +Darwin” more frequently and more prominently advertised now than I had +seen it hitherto—perhaps in the hope of selling off the adulterated +copies, and being able to reprint the work with a corrected title page. +Presently I saw Professor Huxley hastening to the rescue with his lecture +on the coming of age of the “Origin of Species,” and by May it was easy +for Professor Ray Lankester to imply that Mr. Darwin was the greatest of +living men. I have since noticed two or three other controversies raging +in the _Athenæum_ and _Times_; in each of these cases I saw it assumed +that the defeated party, when proved to have publicly misrepresented his +adversary, should do his best to correct in public the injury which he +had publicly inflicted, but I noticed that in none of them had the beaten +side any especial reputation for candour. This probably made all the +difference. But however this may be, Mr. Darwin left me in possession of +the field, in the hope, doubtless, that the matter would blow over—which +it apparently soon did. Whether it has done so in reality or no, is a +matter which remains to be seen. My own belief is that people paid no +attention to what I said, as believing it simply incredible, and that +when they come to know that it is true, they will think as I do +concerning it. + +From ladies and gentlemen of science I admit that I have no expectations. +There is no conduct so dishonourable that people will not deny it or +explain it away, if it has been committed by one whom they recognise as +of their own persuasion. It must be remembered that facts cannot be +respected by the scientist in the same way as by other people. It is his +business to familiarise himself with facts, and, as we all know, the path +from familiarity to contempt is an easy one. + +Here, then, I take leave of this matter for the present. If it appears +that I have used language such as is rarely seen in controversy, let the +reader remember that the occasion is, so far as I know, unparalleled for +the cynicism and audacity with which the wrong complained of was +committed and persisted in. I trust, however, that, though not +indifferent to this, my indignation has been mainly roused, as when I +wrote “Evolution, Old and New,” before Mr. Darwin had given me personal +ground of complaint against him, by the wrongs he has inflicted on dead +men, on whose behalf I now fight, as I trust that some one—whom I thank +by anticipation—may one day fight on mine. + + + + +Chapter V + + +Introduction to Professor Hering’s lecture. + +AFTER I had finished “Evolution, Old and New,” I wrote some articles for +the _Examiner_, {52} in which I carried out the idea put forward in “Life +and Habit,” that we are one person with our ancestors. It follows from +this, that all living animals and vegetables, being—as appears likely if +the theory of evolution is accepted—descended from a common ancestor, are +in reality one person, and unite to form a body corporate, of whose +existence, however, they are unconscious. There is an obvious analogy +between this and the manner in which the component cells of our bodies +unite to form our single individuality, of which it is not likely they +have a conception, and with which they have probably only the same +partial and imperfect sympathy as we, the body corporate, have with them. +In the articles above alluded to I separated the organic from the +inorganic, and when I came to rewrite them, I found that this could not +be done, and that I must reconstruct what I had written. I was at work +on this—to which I hope to return shortly—when Dr. Krause’s’ “Erasmus +Darwin,” with its preliminary notice by Mr. Charles Darwin, came out, and +having been compelled, as I have shown above, by Dr. Krause’s work to +look a little into the German language, the opportunity seemed favourable +for going on with it and becoming acquainted with Professor Hering’s +lecture. I therefore began to translate his lecture at once, with the +kind assistance of friends whose patience seemed inexhaustible, and found +myself well rewarded for my trouble. + +Professor Hering and I, to use a metaphor of his own, are as men who have +observed the action of living beings upon the stage of the world, he from +the point of view at once of a spectator and of one who has free access +to much of what goes on behind the scenes, I from that of a spectator +only, with none but the vaguest notion of the actual manner in which the +stage machinery is worked. If two men so placed, after years of +reflection, arrive independently of one another at an identical +conclusion as regards the manner in which this machinery must have been +invented and perfected, it is natural that each should take a deep +interest in the arguments of the other, and be anxious to put them +forward with the utmost possible prominence. It seems to me that the +theory which Professor Hering and I are supporting in common, is one the +importance of which is hardly inferior to that of the theory of evolution +itself—for it puts the backbone, as it were, into the theory of +evolution. I shall therefore make no apology for laying my translation +of Professor Hering’s work before my reader. + +Concerning the identity of the main idea put forward in “Life and Habit” +with that of Professor Hering’s lecture, there can hardly, I think, be +two opinions. We both of us maintain that we grow our limbs as we do, +and possess the instincts we possess, because we remember having grown +our limbs in this way, and having had these instincts in past generations +when we were in the persons of our forefathers—each individual life +adding a small (but so small, in any one lifetime, as to be hardly +appreciable) amount of new experience to the general store of memory; +that we have thus got into certain habits which we can now rarely break; +and that we do much of what we do unconsciously on the same principle as +that (whatever it is) on which we do all other habitual actions, with the +greater ease and unconsciousness the more often we repeat them. Not only +is the main idea the same, but I was surprised to find how often +Professor Hering and I had taken the same illustrations with which to +point our meaning. + +Nevertheless, we have each of us left undealt with some points which the +other has treated of. Professor Hering, for example, goes into the +question of what memory is, and this I did not venture to do. I confined +myself to saying that whatever memory was, heredity was also. Professor +Hering adds that memory is due to vibrations of the molecules of the +nerve fibres, which under certain circumstances recur, and bring about a +corresponding recurrence of visible action. + +This approaches closely to the theory concerning the physics of memory +which has been most generally adopted since the time of Bonnet, who wrote +as follows:— + + “The soul never has a new sensation but by the inter position of the + senses. This sensation has been originally attached to the motion of + certain fibres. Its reproduction or recollection by the senses will + then be likewise connected with these same fibres.” . . . {54a} + +And again:— + + “It appeared to me that since this memory is connected with the body, + it must depend upon some change which must happen to the primitive + state of the sensible fibres by the action of objects. I have, + therefore, admitted as probable that the state of the fibres on which + an object has acted is not precisely the same after this action as it + was before I have conjectured that the sensible fibres experience + more or less durable modifications, which constitute the physics of + memory and recollection.” {54b} + +Professor Hering comes near to endorsing this view, and uses it for the +purpose of explaining personal identity. This, at least, is what he does +in fact, though perhaps hardly in words. I did not say more upon the +essence of personality than that it was inseparable from the idea that +the various phases of our existence should have flowed one out of the +other, “in what we see as a continuous, though it may be at times a very +troubled, stream” {55} but I maintained that the identity between two +successive generations was of essentially the same kind as that existing +between an infant and an octogenarian. I thus left personal identity +unexplained, though insisting that it was the key to two apparently +distinct sets of phenomena, the one of which had been hitherto considered +incompatible with our ideas concerning it. Professor Hering insists on +this too, but he gives us farther insight into what personal identity is, +and explains how it is that the phenomena of heredity are phenomena also +of personal identity. + +He implies, though in the short space at his command he has hardly said +so in express terms, that personal identity as we commonly think of +it—that is to say, as confined to the single life of the +individual—consists in the uninterruptedness of a sufficient number of +vibrations, which have been communicated from molecule to molecule of the +nerve fibres, and which go on communicating each one of them its own +peculiar characteristic elements to the new matter which we introduce +into the body by way of nutrition. These vibrations may be so gentle as +to be imperceptible for years together; but they are there, and may +become perceived if they receive accession through the running into them +of a wave going the same way as themselves, which wave has been set up in +the ether by exterior objects and has been communicated to the organs of +sense. + +As these pages are on the point of leaving my hands, I see the following +remarkable passage in _Mind_ for the current month, and introduce it +parenthetically here:— + + “I followed the sluggish current of hyaline material issuing from + globules of most primitive living substance. Persistently it + followed its way into space, conquering, at first, the manifold + resistances opposed to it by its watery medium. Gradually, however, + its energies became exhausted, till at last, completely overwhelmed, + it stopped, an immovable projection stagnated to death-like rigidity. + Thus for hours, perhaps, it remained stationary, one of many such + rays of some of the many kinds of protoplasmic stars. By degrees, + then, or perhaps quite suddenly, _help would come to it from foreign + but congruous sources_. _It would seem to combine with outside + complemental matter_ drifted to it at random. Slowly it would regain + thereby its vital mobility. Shrinking at first, but gradually + completely restored and reincorporated into the onward tide of life, + it was ready to take part again in the progressive flow of a new + ray.” {56} + +To return to the end of the last paragraph but one. If this is so—but I +should warn the reader that Professor Hering is not responsible for this +suggestion, though it seems to follow so naturally from what he has said +that I imagine he intended the inference to be drawn,—if this is so, +assimilation is nothing else than the communication of its own rhythms +from the assimilating to the assimilated substance, to the effacement of +the vibrations or rhythms heretofore existing in this last; and +suitability for food will depend upon whether the rhythms of the +substance eaten are such as to flow harmoniously into and chime in with +those of the body which has eaten it, or whether they will refuse to act +in concert with the new rhythms with which they have become associated, +and will persist obstinately in pursuing their own course. In this case +they will either be turned out of the body at once, or will disconcert +its arrangements, with perhaps fatal consequences. This comes round to +the conclusion I arrived at in “Life and Habit,” that assimilation was +nothing but the imbuing of one thing with the memories of another. (See +“Life and Habit,” pp. 136, 137, 140, &c.) + +It will be noted that, as I resolved the phenomena of heredity into +phenomena of personal identity, and left the matter there, so Professor +Hering resolves the phenomena of personal identity into the phenomena of +a living mechanism whose equilibrium is disturbed by vibrations of a +certain character—and leaves it there. We now want to understand more +about the vibrations. + +But if, according to Professor Hering, the personal identity of the +single life consists in the uninterruptedness of vibrations, so also do +the phenomena of heredity. For not only may vibrations of a certain +violence or character be persistent unperceived for many years in a +living body, and communicate themselves to the matter it has assimilated, +but they may, and will, under certain circumstances, extend to the +particle which is about to leave the parent body as the germ of its +future offspring. In this minute piece of matter there must, if +Professor Hering is right, be an infinity of rhythmic undulations +incessantly vibrating with more or less activity, and ready to be set in +more active agitation at a moment’s warning, under due accession of +vibration from exterior objects. On the occurrence of such stimulus, +that is to say, when a vibration of a suitable rhythm from without +concurs with one within the body so as to augment it, the agitation may +gather such strength that the touch, as it were, is given to a house of +cards, and the whole comes toppling over. This toppling over is what we +call action; and when it is the result of the disturbance of certain +usual arrangements in certain usual ways, we call it the habitual +development and instinctive characteristics of the race. In either case, +then, whether we consider the continued identity of the individual in +what we call his single life, or those features in his offspring which we +refer to heredity, the same explanation of the phenomena is applicable. +It follows from this as a matter of course, that the continuation of life +or personal identity in the individual and the race are fundamentally of +the same kind, or, in other words, that there is a veritable prolongation +of identity or oneness of personality between parents and offspring. +Professor Hering reaches his conclusion by physical methods, while I +reached mine, as I am told, by metaphysical. I never yet could +understand what “metaphysics” and “metaphysical” mean; but I should have +said I reached it by the exercise of a little common sense while +regarding certain facts which are open to every one. There is, however, +so far as I can see, no difference in the conclusion come to. + +The view which connects memory with vibrations may tend to throw light +upon that difficult question, the manner in which neuter bees acquire +structures and instincts, not one of which was possessed by any of their +direct ancestors. Those who have read “Life and Habit” may remember, I +suggested that the food prepared in the stomachs of the nurse-bees, with +which the neuter working bees are fed, might thus acquire a quasi-seminal +character, and be made a means of communicating the instincts and +structures in question. {58} If assimilation be regarded as the +receiving by one substance of the rhythms or undulations from another, +the explanation just referred to receives an accession of probability. + +If it is objected that Professor Hering’s theory as to continuity of +vibrations being the key to memory and heredity involves the action of +more wheels within wheels than our imagination can come near to +comprehending, and also that it supposes this complexity of action as +going on within a compass which no unaided eye can detect by reason of +its littleness, so that we are carried into a fairy land with which sober +people should have nothing to do, it may be answered that the case of +light affords us an example of our being truly aware of a multitude of +minute actions, the hundred million millionth part of which we should +have declared to be beyond our ken, could we not incontestably prove that +we notice and count them all with a very sufficient and creditable +accuracy. + +“Who would not,” {59a} says Sir John Herschel, “ask for demonstration +when told that a gnat’s wing, in its ordinary flight, beats many hundred +times in a second? or that there exist animated and regularly organised +beings many thousands of whose bodies laid close together would not +extend to an inch? But what are these to the astonishing truths which +modern optical inquiries have disclosed, which teach us that every point +of a medium through which a ray of light passes is affected with a +succession of periodical movements, recurring regularly at equal +intervals, no less than five hundred millions of millions of times in a +second; that it is by such movements communicated to the nerves of our +eyes that we see; nay, more, that it is the _difference_ in the frequency +of their recurrence which affects us with the sense of the diversity of +colour; that, for instance, in acquiring the sensation of redness, our +eyes are affected four hundred and eighty-two millions of millions of +times; of yellowness, five hundred and forty-two millions of millions of +times; and of violet, seven hundred and seven millions of millions of +times per second? {59b} Do not such things sound more like the ravings +of madmen than the sober conclusions of people in their waking senses? +They are, nevertheless, conclusions to which any one may most certainly +arrive who will only be at the pains of examining the chain of reasoning +by which they have been obtained.” + +A man counting as hard as he can repeat numbers one after another, and +never counting more than a hundred, so that he shall have no long words +to repeat, may perhaps count ten thousand, or a hundred a hundred times +over, in an hour. At this rate, counting night and day, and allowing no +time for rest or refreshment, he would count one million in four days and +four hours, or say four days only. To count a million a million times +over, he would require four million days, or roughly ten thousand years; +for five hundred millions of millions, he must have the utterly +unrealisable period of five million years. Yet he actually goes through +this stupendous piece of reckoning unconsciously hour after hour, day +after day, it may be for eighty years, _often in each second_ of +daylight; and how much more by artificial or subdued light I do not know. +He knows whether his eye is being struck five hundred millions of +millions of times, or only four hundred and eighty-two millions of +millions of times. He thus shows that he estimates or counts each set of +vibrations, and registers them according to his results. If a man writes +upon the back of a British Museum blotting-pad of the common _nonpareil_ +pattern, on which there are some thousands of small spaces each differing +in colour from that which is immediately next to it, his eye will, +nevertheless, without an effort assign its true colour to each one of +these spaces. This implies that he is all the time counting and taking +tally of the difference in the numbers of the vibrations from each one of +the small spaces in question. Yet the mind that is capable of such +stupendous computations as these so long as it knows nothing about them, +makes no little fuss about the conscious adding together of such almost +inconceivably minute numbers as, we will say, 2730169 and 5790135—or, if +these be considered too large, as 27 and 19. Let the reader remember +that he cannot by any effort bring before his mind the units, not in +ones, _but in millions of millions_ of the processes which his visual +organs are undergoing second after second from dawn till dark, and then +let him demur if he will to the possibility of the existence in a germ, +of currents and undercurrents, and rhythms and counter rhythms, also by +the million of millions—each one of which, on being overtaken by the +rhythm from without that chimes in with and stimulates it, may be the +beginning of that unsettlement of equilibrium which results in the crash +of action, unless it is timely counteracted. + +If another objector maintains that the vibrations within the germ as +above supposed must be continually crossing and interfering with one +another in such a manner as to destroy the continuity of any one series, +it may be replied that the vibrations of the light proceeding from the +objects that surround us traverse one another by the millions of millions +every second yet in no way interfere with one another. Nevertheless, it +must be admitted that the difficulties of the theory towards which I +suppose Professor Hering to incline are like those of all other theories +on the same subject—almost inconceivably great. + +In “Life and Habit” I did not touch upon these vibrations, knowing +nothing about them. Here, then, is one important point of difference, +not between the conclusions arrived at, but between the aim and scope of +the work that Professor Hering and I severally attempted. Another +difference consists in the points at which we have left off. Professor +Hering, having established his main thesis, is content. I, on the other +hand, went on to maintain that if vigour was due to memory, want of +vigour was due to want of memory. Thus I was led to connect memory with +the phenomena of hybridism and of old age; to show that the sterility of +certain animals under domestication is only a phase of, and of a piece +with, the very common sterility of hybrids—phenomena which at first sight +have no connection either with each other or with memory, but the +connection between which will never be lost sight of by those who have +once laid hold of it. I also pointed out how exactly the phenomena of +development agreed with those of the abeyance and recurrence of memory, +and the rationale of the fact that puberty in so many animals and plants +comes about the end of development. The principle underlying longevity +follows as a matter of course. I have no idea how far Professor Hering +would agree with me in the position I have taken in respect of these +phenomena, but there is nothing in the above at variance with his +lecture. + +Another matter on which Professor Hering has not touched is the bearing +of his theory on that view of evolution which is now commonly accepted. +It is plain he accepts evolution, but it does not appear that he sees how +fatal his theory is to any view of evolution except a teleological +one—the purpose residing within the animal and not without it. There is, +however, nothing in his lecture to indicate that he does not see this. + +It should be remembered that the question whether memory is due to the +persistence within the body of certain vibrations, which have been +already set up within the bodies of its ancestors, is true or no, will +not affect the position I took up in “Life and Habit.” In that book I +have maintained nothing more than that whatever memory is heredity is +also. I am not committed to the vibration theory of memory, though +inclined to accept it on a _primâ facie_ view. All I am committed to is, +that if memory is due to persistence of vibrations, so is heredity; and +if memory is not so due, then no more is heredity. + +Finally, I may say that Professor Hering’s lecture, the passage quoted +from Dr. Erasmus Darwin on p. 26 of this volume, and a few hints in the +extracts from Mr. Patrick Mathew which I have quoted in “Evolution, Old +and New,” are all that I yet know of in other writers as pointing to the +conclusion that the phenomena of heredity are phenomena also of memory. + + + + +Chapter VI + + +Professor Ewald Hering “On Memory.” + +I WILL now lay before the reader a translation of Professor Hering’s own +words. I have had it carefully revised throughout by a gentleman whose +native language is German, but who has resided in England for many years +past. The original lecture is entitled “On Memory as a Universal +Function of Organised Matter,” and was delivered at the anniversary +meeting of the Imperial Academy of Sciences at Vienna, May 30, 1870. {63} +It is as follows:— + +“When the student of Nature quits the narrow workshop of his own +particular inquiry, and sets out upon an excursion into the vast kingdom +of philosophical investigation, he does so, doubtless, in the hope of +finding the answer to that great riddle, to the solution of a small part +of which he devotes his life. Those, however, whom he leaves behind him +still working at their own special branch of inquiry, regard his +departure with secret misgivings on his behalf, while the born citizens +of the kingdom of speculation among whom he would naturalise himself, +receive him with well-authorised distrust. He is likely, therefore, to +lose ground with the first, while not gaining it with the second. + +The subject to the consideration of which I would now solicit your +attention does certainly appear likely to lure us on towards the +flattering land of speculation, but bearing in mind what I have just +said, I will beware of quitting the department of natural science to +which I have devoted myself hitherto. I shall, however, endeavour to +attain its highest point, so as to take a freer view of the surrounding +territory. + +It will soon appear that I should fail in this purpose if my remarks were +to confine themselves solely to physiology. I hope to show how far +psychological investigations also afford not only permissible, but +indispensable, aid to physiological inquiries. + +Consciousness is an accompaniment of that animal and human organisation +and of that material mechanism which it is the province of physiology to +explore; and as long as the atoms of the brain follow their due course +according to certain definite laws, there arises an inner life which +springs from sensation and idea, from feeling and will. + +We feel this in our own cases; it strikes us in our converse with other +people; we can see it plainly in the more highly organised animals; even +the lowest forms of life bear traces of it; and who can draw a line in +the kingdom of organic life, and say that it is here the soul ceases? + +With what eyes, then, is physiology to regard this two-fold life of the +organised world? Shall she close them entirely to one whole side of it, +that she may fix them more intently on the other? + +So long as the physiologist is content to be a physicist, and nothing +more—using the word “physicist” in its widest signification—his position +in regard to the organic world is one of extreme but legitimate +one-sidedness. As the crystal to the mineralogist or the vibrating +string to the acoustician, so from this point of view both man and the +lower animals are to the physiologist neither more nor less than the +matter of which they consist. That animals feel desire and repugnance, +that the material mechanism of the human frame is in chose connection +with emotions of pleasure or pain, and with the active idea-life of +consciousness—this cannot, in the eyes of the physicist, make the animal +or human body into anything more than what it actually is. To him it is +a combination of matter, subjected to the same inflexible laws as stones +and plants—a material combination, the outward and inward movements of +which interact as cause and effect, and are in as close connection with +each other and with their surroundings as the working of a machine with +the revolutions of the wheels that compose it. + +Neither sensation, nor idea, nor yet conscious will, can form a link in +this chain of material occurrences which make up the physical life of an +organism. If I am asked a question and reply to it, the material process +which the nerve fibre conveys from the organ of hearing to the brain must +travel through my brain as an actual and material process before it can +reach the nerves which will act upon my organs of speech. It cannot, on +reaching a given place in the brain, change then and there into an +immaterial something, and turn up again some time afterwards in another +part of the brain as a material process. The traveller in the desert +might as well hope, before he again goes forth into the wilderness of +reality, to take rest and refreshment in the oasis with which the Fata +Morgana illudes him; or as well might a prisoner hope to escape from his +prison through a door reflected in a mirror. + +So much for the physiologist in his capacity of pure physicist. As long +as he remains behind the scenes in painful exploration of the details of +the machinery—as long as he only observes the action of the players from +behind the stage—so long will he miss the spirit of the performance, +which is, nevertheless, caught easily by one who sees it from the front. +May he not, then, for once in a way, be allowed to change his standpoint? +True, he came not to see the representation of an imaginary world; he is +in search of the actual; but surely it must help him to a comprehension +of the dramatic apparatus itself, and of the manner in which it is +worked, if he were to view its action from in front as well as from +behind, or at least allow himself to hear what sober-minded spectators +can tell him upon the subject. + +There can be no question as to the answer; and hence it comes that +psychology is such an indispensable help to physiology, whose fault it +only in small part is that she has hitherto made such little use of this +assistance; for psychology has been late in beginning to till her fertile +field with the plough of the inductive method, and it is only from ground +so tilled that fruits can spring which can be of service to physiology. + +If, then, the student of nervous physiology takes his stand between the +physicist and the psychologist, and if the first of these rightly makes +the unbroken causative continuity of all material processes an axiom of +his system of investigation, the prudent psychologist, on the other hand, +will investigate the laws of conscious life according to the inductive +method, and will hence, as much as the physicist, make the existence of +fixed laws his initial assumption. If, again, the most superficial +introspection teaches the physiologist that his conscious life is +dependent upon the mechanical adjustments of his body, and that inversely +his body is subjected with certain limitations to his will, then it only +remains for him to make one assumption more, namely, _that this mutual +interdependence between the spiritual and the material is itself also +dependent on law_, and he has discovered the bond by which the science of +matter and the science of consciousness are united into a single whole. + +Thus regarded, the phenomena of consciousness become functions of the +material changes of organised substance, and inversely—though this is +involved in the use of the word “function”—the material processes of +brain substance become functions of the phenomena of consciousness. For +when two variables are so dependent upon one another in the changes they +undergo in accordance with fixed laws that a change in either involves +simultaneous and corresponding change in the other, the one is called a +function of the other. + +This, then, by no means implies that the two variables above-named—matter +and consciousness—stand in the relation of cause and effect, antecedent +and consequence, to one another. For on this subject we know nothing. + +The materialist regards consciousness as a product or result of matter, +while the idealist holds matter to be a result of consciousness, and a +third maintains that matter and spirit are identical; with all this the +physiologist, as such, has nothing whatever to do; his sole concern is +with the fact that matter and consciousness are functions one of the +other. + +By the help of this hypothesis of the functional interdependence of +matter and spirit, modern physiology is enabled to bring the phenomena of +consciousness within the domain of her investigations without leaving the +_terra firma_ of scientific methods. The physiologist, as physicist, can +follow the ray of light and the wave of sound or heat till they reach the +organ of sense. He can watch them entering upon the ends of the nerves, +and finding their way to the cells of the brain by means of the series of +undulations or vibrations which they establish in the nerve filaments. +Here, however, he loses all trace of them. On the other hand, still +looking with the eyes of a pure physicist, he sees sound waves of speech +issue from the mouth of a speaker; he observes the motion of his own +limbs, and finds how this is conditional upon muscular contractions +occasioned by the motor nerves, and how these nerves are in their turn +excited by the cells of the central organ. But here again his knowledge +comes to an end. True, he sees indications of the bridge which is to +carry him from excitation of the sensory to that of the motor nerves in +the labyrinth of intricately interwoven nerve cells, but he knows nothing +of the inconceivably complex process which is introduced at this stage. +Here the physiologist will change his standpoint; what matter will not +reveal to his inquiry, he will find in the mirror, as it were, of +consciousness; by way of a reflection, indeed, only, but a reflection, +nevertheless, which stands in intimate relation to the object of his +inquiry. When at this point he observes how one idea gives rise to +another, how closely idea is connected with sensation and sensation with +will, and how thought, again, and feeling are inseparable from one +another, he will be compelled to suppose corresponding successions of +material processes, which generate and are closely connected with one +another, and which attend the whole machinery of conscious life, +according to the law of the functional interdependence of matter and +consciousness. + + * * * * * + +After this explanation I shall venture to regard under a single aspect a +great series of phenomena which apparently have nothing to do with one +another, and which belong partly to the conscious and partly to the +unconscious life of organised beings. I shall regard them as the outcome +of one and the same primary force of organised matter—namely, its memory +or power of reproduction. + +The word “memory” is often understood as though it meant nothing more +than our faculty of intentionally reproducing ideas or series of ideas. +But when the figures and events of bygone days rise up again unbidden in +our minds, is not this also an act of recollection or memory? We have a +perfect right to extend our conception of memory so as to make it embrace +involuntary reproductions, of sensations, ideas, perceptions, and +efforts; but we find, on having done so, that we have so far enlarged her +boundaries that she proves to be an ultimate and original power, the +source, and at the same time the unifying bond, of our whole conscious +life. + +We know that when an impression, or a series of impressions, has been +made upon our senses for a long time, and always in the same way, it may +come to impress itself in such a manner upon the so-called sense-memory +that hours afterwards, and though a hundred other things have occupied +our attention meanwhile, it will yet return suddenly to our consciousness +with all the force and freshness of the original sensation. A whole +group of sensations is sometimes reproduced in its due sequence as +regards time and space, with so much reality that it illudes us, as +though things were actually present which have long ceased to be so. We +have here a striking proof of the fact that after both conscious +sensation and perception have been extinguished, their material vestiges +yet remain in our nervous system by way of a change in its molecular or +atomic disposition, {69} that enables the nerve substance to reproduce +all the physical processes of the original sensation, and with these the +corresponding psychical processes of sensation and perception. + +Every hour the phenomena of sense-memory are present with each one of us, +but in a less degree than this. We are all at times aware of a host of +more or less faded recollections of earlier impressions, which we either +summon intentionally or which come upon us involuntarily. Visions of +absent people come and go before us as faint and fleeting shadows, and +the notes of long-forgotten melodies float around us, not actually heard, +but yet perceptible. + +Some things and occurrences, especially if they have happened to us only +once and hurriedly, will be reproducible by the memory in respect only of +a few conspicuous qualities; in other cases those details alone will +recur to us which we have met with elsewhere, and for the reception of +which the brain is, so to speak, attuned. These last recollections find +themselves in fuller accord with our consciousness, and enter upon it +more easily and energetically; hence also their aptitude for reproduction +is enhanced; so that what is common to many things, and is therefore felt +and perceived with exceptional frequency, becomes reproduced so easily +that eventually the actual presence of the corresponding external +_stimuli_ is no longer necessary, and it will recur on the vibrations set +up by faint _stimuli_ from within. {70} Sensations arising in this way +from within, as, for example, an idea of whiteness, are not, indeed, +perceived with the full freshness of those raised by the actual presence +of white light without us, but they are of the same kind; they are feeble +repetitions of one and the same material brain process—of one and the +same conscious sensation. Thus the idea of whiteness arises in our mind +as a faint, almost extinct, sensation. + +In this way those qualities which are common to many things become +separated, as it were, in our memory from the objects with which they +were originally associated, and attain an independent existence in our +consciousness as _ideas_ and _conceptions_, and thus the whole rich +superstructure of our ideas and conceptions is built up from materials +supplied by memory. + +On examining more closely, we see plainly that memory is a faculty not +only of our conscious states, but also, and much more so, of our +unconscious ones. I was conscious of this or that yesterday, and am +again conscious of it to-day. Where has it been meanwhile? It does not +remain continuously within my consciousness, nevertheless it returns +after having quitted it. Our ideas tread but for a moment upon the stage +of consciousness, and then go back again behind the scenes, to make way +for others in their place. As the player is only a king when he is on +the stage, so they too exist as ideas so long only as they are +recognised. How do they live when they are off the stage? For we know +that they are living somewhere; give them their cue and they reappear +immediately. They do not exist continuously as ideas; what is continuous +is the special disposition of nerve substance in virtue of which this +substance gives out to-day the same sound which it gave yesterday if it +is rightly struck. {71} Countless reproductions of organic processes of +our brain connect themselves orderly together, so that one acts as a +stimulus to the next, but a phenomenon of consciousness is not +necessarily attached to every link in the chain. From this it arises +that a series of ideas may appear to disregard the order that would be +observed in purely material processes of brain substance unaccompanied by +consciousness; but on the other hand it becomes possible for a long chain +of recollections to have its due development without each link in the +chain being necessarily perceived by ourselves. One may emerge from the +bosom of our unconscious thoughts without fully entering upon the stage +of conscious perception; another dies away in unconsciousness, leaving no +successor to take its place. Between the “me” of to-day and the “me” of +yesterday lie night and sleep, abysses of unconsciousness; nor is there +any bridge but memory with which to span them. Who can hope after this +to disentangle the infinite intricacy of our inner life? For we can only +follow its threads so far as they have strayed over within the bounds of +consciousness. We might as well hope to familiarise ourselves with the +world of forms that teem within the bosom of the sea by observing the few +that now and again come to the surface and soon return into the deep. + +The bond of union, therefore, which connects the individual phenomena of +our consciousness lies in our unconscious world; and as we know nothing +of this but what investigation into the laws of matter teach us—as, in +fact, for purely experimental purposes, “matter” and the “unconscious” +must be one and the same thing—so the physiologist has a full right to +denote memory as, in the wider sense of the word, a function of brain +substance, whose results, it is true, fall, as regards one part of them, +into the domain of consciousness, while another and not less essential +part escapes unperceived as purely material processes. + +The perception of a body in space is a very complicated process. I see +suddenly before me, for example, a white ball. This has the effect of +conveying to me more than a mere sensation of whiteness. I deduce the +spherical character of the ball from the gradations of light and shade +upon its surface. I form a correct appreciation of its distance from my +eye, and hence again I deduce an inference as to the size of the ball. +What an expenditure of sensations, ideas, and inferences is found to be +necessary before all this can be brought about; yet the production of a +correct perception of the ball was the work only of a few seconds, and I +was unconscious of the individual processes by means of which it was +effected, the result as a whole being alone present in my consciousness. + +The nerve substance preserves faithfully the memory of habitual actions. +{72} Perceptions which were once long and difficult, requiring constant +and conscious attention, come to reproduce themselves in transient and +abridged guise, without such duration and intensity that each link has to +pass over the threshold of our consciousness. + +We have chains of material nerve processes to which eventually a link +becomes attached that is attended with conscious perception. This is +sufficiently established from the standpoint of the physiologist, and is +also proved by our unconsciousness of many whole series of ideas and of +the inferences we draw from them. If the soul is not to ship through the +fingers of physiology, she must hold fast to the considerations suggested +by our unconscious states. As far, however, as the investigations of the +pure physicist are concerned, the unconscious and matter are one and the +same thing, and the physiology of the unconscious is no “philosophy of +the unconscious.” + +By far the greater number of our movements are the result of long and +arduous practice. The harmonious cooperation of the separate muscles, +the finely adjusted measure of participation which each contributes to +the working of the whole, must, as a rule, have been laboriously +acquired, in respect of most of the movements that are necessary in order +to effect it. How long does it not take each note to find its way from +the eyes to the fingers of one who is beginning to learn the pianoforte; +and, on the other hand, what an astonishing performance is the playing of +the professional pianist. The sight of each note occasions the +corresponding movement of the fingers with the speed of thought—a hurried +glance at the page of music before him suffices to give rise to a whole +series of harmonies; nay, when a melody has been long practised, it can +be played even while the player’s attention is being given to something +of a perfectly different character over and above his music. + +The will need now no longer wend its way to each individual finger before +the desired movements can be extorted from it; no longer now does a +sustained attention keep watch over the movements of each limb; the will +need exercise a supervising control only. At the word of command the +muscles become active, with a due regard to time and proportion, and go +on working, so long as they are bidden to keep in their accustomed +groove, while a slight hint on the part of the will, will indicate to +them their further journey. How could all this be if every part of the +central nerve system, by means of which movement is effected, were not +able {74a} to reproduce whole series of vibrations, which at an earlier +date required the constant and continuous participation of consciousness, +but which are now set in motion automatically on a mere touch, as it +were, from consciousness—if it were not able to reproduce them the more +quickly and easily in proportion to the frequency of the repetitions—if, +in fact, there was no power of recollecting earlier performances? Our +perceptive faculties must have remained always at their lowest stage if +we had been compelled to build up consciously every process from the +details of the sensation-causing materials tendered to us by our senses; +nor could our voluntary movements have got beyond the helplessness of the +child, if the necessary impulses could only be imparted to every movement +through effort of the will and conscious reproduction of all the +corresponding ideas—if, in a word, the motor nerve system had not also +its memory, {74b} though that memory is unperceived by ourselves. The +power of this memory is what is called “the force of habit.” + +It seems, then, that we owe to memory almost all that we either have or +are; that our ideas and conceptions are its work, and that our every +perception, thought, and movement is derived from this source. Memory +collects the countless phenomena of our existence into a single whole; +and as our bodies would be scattered into the dust of their component +atoms if they were not held together by the attraction of matter, so our +consciousness would be broken up into as many fragments as we had lived +seconds but for the binding and unifying force of memory. + +We have already repeatedly seen that the reproductions of organic +processes, brought about by means of the memory of the nervous system, +enter but partly within the domain of consciousness, remaining +unperceived in other and not less important respects. This is also +confirmed by numerous facts in the life of that part of the nervous +system which ministers almost exclusively to our unconscious life +processes. For the memory of the so-called sympathetic ganglionic system +is no less rich than that of the brain and spinal marrow, and a great +part of the medical art consists in making wise use of the assistance +thus afforded us. + +To bring, however, this part of my observations to a close, I will take +leave of the nervous system, and glance hurriedly at other phases of +organised matter, where we meet with the same powers of reproduction, but +in simpler guise. + +Daily experience teaches us that a muscle becomes the stronger the more +we use it. The muscular fibre, which in the first instance may have +answered but feebly to the stimulus conducted to it by the motor nerve, +does so with the greater energy the more often it is stimulated, +provided, of course, that reasonable times are allowed for repose. After +each individual action it becomes more capable, more disposed towards the +same kind of work, and has a greater aptitude for repetition of the same +organic processes. It gains also in weight, for it assimilates more +matter than when constantly at rest. We have here, in its simplest form, +and in a phase which comes home most closely to the comprehension of the +physicist, the same power of reproduction which we encountered when we +were dealing with nerve substance, but under such far more complicated +conditions. And what is known thus certainly from muscle substance holds +good with greater or less plainness for all our organs. More especially +may we note the fact, that after increased use, alternated with times of +repose, there accrues to the organ in all animal economy an increased +power of execution with an increased power of assimilation and a gain in +size. + +This gain in size consists not only in the enlargement of the individual +cells or fibres of which the organ is composed, but in the multiplication +of their number; for when cells have grown to a certain size they give +rise to others, which inherit more or less completely the qualities of +those from which they came, and therefore appear to be repetitions of the +same cell. This growth, and multiplication of cells is only a special +phase of those manifold functions which characterise organised matter, +and which consist not only in what goes on within the cell substance as +alterations or undulatory movement of the molecular disposition, but also +in that which becomes visible outside the cells as change of shape, +enlargement, or subdivision. Reproduction of performance, therefore, +manifests itself to us as reproduction of the cells themselves, as may be +seen most plainly in the case of plants, whose chief work consists in +growth, whereas with animal organism other faculties greatly +preponderate. + +Let us now take a brief survey of a class of facts in the case of which +we may most abundantly observe the power of memory in organised matter. +We have ample evidence of the fact that characteristics of an organism +may descend to offspring which the organism did not inherit, but which it +acquired owing to the special circumstances under which it lived; and +that, in consequence, every organism imparts to the germ that issues from +it a small heritage of acquisitions which it has added during its own +lifetime to the gross inheritance of its race. + +When we reflect that we are dealing with the heredity of acquired +qualities which came to development in the most diverse parts of the +parent organism, it must seem in a high degree mysterious how those parts +can have any kind of influence upon a germ which develops itself in an +entirely different place. Many mystical theories have been propounded +for the elucidation of this question, but the following reflections may +serve to bring the cause nearer to the comprehension of the physiologist. + +The nerve substance, in spite of its thousandfold subdivision as cells +and fibres, forms, nevertheless, a united whole, which is present +directly in all organs—nay, as more recent histology conjectures, in each +cell of the more important organs—or is at least in ready communication +with them by means of the living, irritable, and therefore highly +conductive substance of other cells. Through the connection thus +established all organs find themselves in such a condition of more or +less mutual interdependence upon one another, that events which happen to +one are repeated in others, and a notification, however slight, of a +vibration set up {77} in one quarter is at once conveyed even to the +farthest parts of the body. With this easy and rapid intercourse between +all parts is associated the more difficult communication that goes on by +way of the circulation of sap or blood. + +We see, further, that the process of the development of all germs that +are marked out for independent existence causes a powerful reaction, even +from the very beginning of that existence, on both the conscious and +unconscious life of the whole organism. We may see this from the fact +that the organ of reproduction stands in closer and more important +relation to the remaining parts, and especially to the nervous system, +than do the other organs; and, inversely, that both the perceived and +unperceived events affecting the whole organism find a more marked +response in the reproductive system than elsewhere. + +We can now see with sufficient plainness in what the material connection +is established between the acquired peculiarities of an organism, and the +proclivity on the part of the germ in virtue of which it develops the +special characteristics of its parent. + +The microscope teaches us that no difference can be perceived between one +germ and another; it cannot, however, be objected on this account that +the determining cause of its ulterior development must be something +immaterial, rather than the specific kind of its material constitution. + +The curves and surfaces which the mathematician conceives, or finds +conceivable, are more varied and infinite than the forms of animal life. +Let us suppose an infinitely small segment to be taken from every +possible curve; each one of these will appear as like every other as one +germ is to another, yet the whole of every curve lies dormant, as it +were, in each of them, and if the mathematician chooses to develop it, it +will take the path indicated by the elements of each segment. + +It is an error, therefore, to suppose that such fine distinctions as +physiology must assume lie beyond the limits of what is conceivable by +the human mind. An infinitely small change of position on the part of a +point, or in the relations of the parts of a segment of a curve to one +another, suffices to alter the law of its whole path, and so in like +manner an infinitely small influence exercised by the parent organism on +the molecular disposition of the germ {78} may suffice to produce a +determining effect upon its whole farther development. + +What is the descent of special peculiarities but a reproduction on the +part of organised matter of processes in which it once took part as a +germ in the germ-containing organs of its parent, and of which it seems +still to retain a recollection that reappears when time and the occasion +serve, inasmuch as it responds to the same or like stimuli in a like way +to that in which the parent organism responded, of which it was once +part, and in the events of whose history it was itself also an +accomplice? {79} When an action through long habit or continual practice +has become so much a second nature to any organisation that its effects +will penetrate, though ever so faintly, into the germ that lies within +it, and when this last comes to find itself in a new sphere, to extend +itself, and develop into a new creature—(the individual parts of which +are still always the creature itself and flesh of its flesh, so that what +is reproduced is the same being as that in company with which the germ +once lived, and of which it was once actually a part)—all this is as +wonderful as when a grey-haired man remembers the events of his own +childhood; but it is not more so. Whether we say that the same organised +substance is again reproducing its past experience, or whether we prefer +to hold that an offshoot or part of the original substance has waxed and +developed itself since separation from the parent stock, it is plain that +this will constitute a difference of degree, not kind. + +When we reflect upon the fact that unimportant acquired characteristics +can be reproduced in offspring, we are apt to forget that offspring is +only a full-sized reproduction of the parent—a reproduction, moreover, +that goes as far as possible into detail. We are so accustomed to +consider family resemblance a matter of course, that we are sometimes +surprised when a child is in some respect unlike its parent; surely, +however, the infinite number of points in respect of which parents and +children resemble one another is a more reasonable ground for our +surprise. + +But if the substance of the germ can reproduce characteristics acquired +by the parent during its single life, how much more will it not be able +to reproduce those that were congenital to the parent, and which have +happened through countless generations to the organised matter of which +the germ of to-day is a fragment? We cannot wonder that action already +taken on innumerable past occasions by organised matter is more deeply +impressed upon the recollection of the germ to which it gives rise than +action taken once only during a single lifetime. {80a} + +We must bear in mind that every organised being now in existence +represents the last link of an inconceivably long series of organisms, +which come down in a direct line of descent, and of which each has +inherited a part of the acquired characteristics of its predecessor. +Everything, furthermore, points in the direction of our believing that at +the beginning of this chain there existed an organism of the very +simplest kind, something, in fact, like those which we call organised +germs. The chain of living beings thus appears to be the magnificent +achievement of the reproductive power of the original organic structure +from which they have all descended. As this subdivided itself and +transmitted its characteristics {80b} to its descendants, these acquired +new ones, and in their turn transmitted them—all new germs transmitting +the chief part of what had happened to their predecessors, while the +remaining part lapsed out of their memory, circumstances not stimulating +it to reproduce itself. + +An organised being, therefore, stands before us a product of the +unconscious memory of organised matter, which, ever increasing and ever +dividing itself, ever assimilating new matter and returning it in changed +shape to the inorganic world, ever receiving some new thing into its +memory, and transmitting its acquisitions by the way of reproduction, +grows continually richer and richer the longer it lives. + +Thus regarded, the development of one of the more highly organised +animals represents a continuous series of organised recollections +concerning the past development of the great chain of living forms, the +last link of which stands before us in the particular animal we may be +considering. As a complicated perception may arise by means of a rapid +and superficial reproduction of long and laboriously practised brain +processes, so a germ in the course of its development hurries through a +series of phases, hinting at them only. Often and long foreshadowed in +theories of varied characters, this conception has only now found correct +exposition from a naturalist of our own time. {81} For Truth hides +herself under many disguises from those who seek her, but in the end +stands unveiled before the eyes of him whom she has chosen. + +Not only is there a reproduction of form, outward and inner conformation +of body, organs, and cells, but the habitual actions of the parent are +also reproduced. The chicken on emerging from the eggshell runs off as +its mother ran off before it; yet what an extraordinary complication of +emotions and sensations is necessary in order to preserve equilibrium in +running. Surely the supposition of an inborn capacity for the +reproduction of these intricate actions can alone explain the facts. As +habitual practice becomes a second nature to the individual during his +single lifetime, so the often-repeated action of each generation becomes +a second nature to the race. + +The chicken not only displays great dexterity in the performance of +movements for the effecting of which it has an innate capacity, but it +exhibits also a tolerably high perceptive power. It immediately picks up +any grain that may be thrown to it. Yet, in order to do this, more is +wanted than a mere visual perception of the grains; there must be an +accurate apprehension of the direction and distance of the precise spot +in which each grain is lying, and there must be no less accuracy in the +adjustment of the movements of the head and of the whole body. The +chicken cannot have gained experience in these respects while it was +still in the egg. It gained it rather from the thousands of thousands of +beings that have lived before it, and from which it is directly +descended. + +The memory of organised substance displays itself here in the most +surprising fashion. The gentle stimulus of the light proceeding from the +grain that affects the retina of the chicken, {82} gives occasion for the +reproduction of a many-linked chain of sensations, perceptions, and +emotions, which were never yet brought together in the case of the +individual before us. We are accustomed to regard these surprising +performances of animals as manifestations of what we call instinct, and +the mysticism of natural philosophy has ever shown a predilection for +this theme; but if we regard instinct as the outcome of the memory or +reproductive power of organised substance, and if we ascribe a memory to +the race as we already ascribe it to the individual, then instinct +becomes at once intelligible, and the physiologist at the same time finds +a point of contact which will bring it into connection with the great +series of facts indicated above as phenomena of the reproductive faculty. +Here, then, we have a physical explanation which has not, indeed, been +given yet, but the time for which appears to be rapidly approaching. + +When, in accordance with its instinct, the caterpillar becomes a +chrysalis, or the bird builds its nest, or the bee its cell, these +creatures act consciously and not as blind machines. They know how to +vary their proceedings within certain limits in conformity with altered +circumstances, and they are thus liable to make mistakes. They feel +pleasure when their work advances and pain if it is hindered; they learn +by the experience thus acquired, and build on a second occasion better +than on the first; but that even in the outset they hit so readily upon +the most judicious way of achieving their purpose, and that their +movements adapt themselves so admirably and automatically to the end they +have in view—surely this is owing to the inherited acquisitions of the +memory of their nerve substance, which requires but a touch and it will +fall at once to the most appropriate kind of activity, thinking always, +and directly, of whatever it is that may be wanted. + +Man can readily acquire surprising kinds of dexterity if he confines his +attention to their acquisition. Specialisation is the mother of +proficiency. He who marvels at the skill with which the spider weaves +her web should bear in mind that she did not learn her art all on a +sudden, but that innumerable generations of spiders acquired it +toilsomely and step by step—this being about all that, as a general rule, +they did acquire. Man took to bows and arrows if his nets failed him—the +spider starved. Thus we see the body and—what most concerns us—the whole +nervous system of the new-born animal constructed beforehand, and, as it +were, ready attuned for intercourse with the outside world in which it is +about to play its part, by means of its tendency to respond to external +stimuli in the same manner as it has often heretofore responded in the +persons of its ancestors. + +We naturally ask whether the brain and nervous system of the human infant +are subjected to the principles we have laid down above? Man certainly +finds it difficult to acquire arts of which the lower animals are born +masters; but the brain of man at birth is much farther from its highest +development than is the brain of an animal. It not only grows for a +longer time, but it becomes stronger than that of other living beings. +The brain of man may be said to be exceptionally young at birth. The +lower animal is born precocious, and acts precociously; it resembles +those infant prodigies whose brain, as it were, is born old into the +world, but who, in spite of, or rather in addition to, their rich +endowment at birth, in after life develop as much mental power as others +who were less splendidly furnished to start with, but born with greater +freshness of youth. Man’s brain, and indeed his whole body, affords +greater scope for individuality, inasmuch as a relatively greater part of +it is of post-natal growth. It develops under the influence of +impressions made by the environment upon its senses, and thus makes its +acquisitions in a more special and individual manner, whereas the animal +receives them ready made, and of a more final, stereotyped character. + +Nevertheless, it is plain we must ascribe both to the brain and body of +the new-born infant a far-reaching power of remembering or reproducing +things which have already come to their development thousands of times +over in the persons of its ancestors. It is in virtue of this that it +acquires proficiency in the actions necessary for its existence—so far as +it was not already at birth proficient in them—much more quickly and +easily than would be otherwise possible; but what we call instinct in the +case of animals takes in man the looser form of aptitude, talent, and +genius. {84} Granted that certain ideas are not innate, yet the fact of +their taking form so easily and certainly from out of the chaos of his +sensations, is due not to his own labour, but to that of the brain +substance of the thousands of thousands of generations from whom he is +descended. Theories concerning the development of individual +consciousness which deny heredity or the power of transmission, and +insist upon an entirely fresh start for every human soul, as though the +infinite number of generations that have gone before us might as well +have never lived for all the effect they have had upon ourselves,—such +theories will contradict the facts of our daily experience at every touch +and turn. + +The brain processes and phenomena of consciousness which ennoble man in +the eyes of his fellows have had a less ancient history than those +connected with his physical needs. Hunger and the reproductive instinct +affected the oldest and simplest forms of the organic world. It is in +respect of these instincts, therefore, and of the means to gratify them, +that the memory of organised substance is strongest—the impulses and +instincts that arise hence having still paramount power over the minds of +men. The spiritual life has been superadded slowly; its most splendid +outcome belongs to the latest epoch in the history of organised matter, +nor has any very great length of time elapsed since the nervous system +was first crowned with the glory of a large and well-developed brain. + +Oral tradition and written history have been called the memory of man, +and this is not without its truth. But there is another and a living +memory in the innate reproductive power of brain substance, and without +this both writings and oral tradition would be without significance to +posterity. The most sublime ideas, though never so immortalised in +speech or letters, are yet nothing for heads that are out of harmony with +them; they must be not only heard, but reproduced; and both speech and +writing would be in vain were there not an inheritance of inward and +outward brain development, growing in correspondence with the inheritance +of ideas that are handed down from age to age, and did not an enhanced +capacity for their reproduction on the part of each succeeding generation +accompany the thoughts that have been preserved in writing. Man’s +conscious memory comes to an end at death, but the unconscious memory of +Nature is true and ineradicable: whoever succeeds in stamping upon her +the impress of his work, she will remember him to the end of time. + + + + +Chapter VII + + +Introduction to a translation of the chapter upon instinct in Von +Hartmann’s “Philosophy of the Unconscious.” + +I AM afraid my readers will find the chapter on instinct from Von +Hartmann’s “Philosophy of the Unconscious,” which will now follow, as +distasteful to read as I did to translate, and would gladly have spared +it them if I could. At present, the works of Mr. Sully, who has treated +of the “Philosophy of the Unconscious” both in the _Westminster Review_ +(vol. xlix. N.S.) and in his work “Pessimism,” are the best source to +which English readers can have recourse for information concerning Von +Hartmann. Giving him all credit for the pains he has taken with an +ungrateful, if not impossible subject, I think that a sufficient sample +of Von Hartmann’s own words will be a useful adjunct to Mr. Sully’s work, +and may perhaps save some readers trouble by resolving them to look no +farther into the “Philosophy of the Unconscious.” Over and above this, I +have been so often told that the views concerning unconscious action +contained in the foregoing lecture and in “Life and Habit” are only the +very fallacy of Von Hartmann over again, that I should like to give the +public an opportunity of seeing whether this is so or no, by placing the +two contending theories of unconscious action side by side. I hope that +it will thus be seen that neither Professor Hering nor I have fallen into +the fallacy of Von Hartmann, but that rather Von Hartmann has fallen into +his fallacy through failure to grasp the principle which Professor Hering +has insisted upon, and to connect heredity with memory. + +Professor Hering’s philosophy of the unconscious is of extreme +simplicity. He rests upon a fact of daily and hourly experience, namely, +that practice makes things easy that were once difficult, and often +results in their being done without any consciousness of effort. But if +the repetition of an act tends ultimately, under certain circumstances, +to its being done unconsciously, so also is the fact of an intricate and +difficult action being done unconsciously an argument that it must have +been done repeatedly already. As I said in “Life and Habit,” it is more +easy to suppose that occasions on which such an action has been performed +have not been wanting, even though we do not see when and where they +were, than that the facility which we observe should have been attained +without practice and memory (p. 56). + +There can be nothing better established or more easy, whether to +understand or verify, than the unconsciousness with which habitual +actions come to be performed. If, however, it is once conceded that it +is the manner of habitual action generally, then all _à priori_ objection +to Professor Hering’s philosophy of the unconscious is at an end. The +question becomes one of fact in individual cases, and of degree. + +How far, then, does the principle of the convertibility, as it were, of +practice and unconsciousness extend? Can any line be drawn beyond which +it shall cease to operate? If not, may it not have operated and be +operating to a vast and hitherto unsuspected extent? This is all, and +certainly it is sufficiently simple. I sometimes think it has found its +greatest stumbling-block in its total want of mystery, as though we must +be like those conjurers whose stock in trade is a small deal table and a +kitchen-chair with bare legs, and who, with their parade of “no +deception” and “examine everything for yourselves,” deceive worse than +others who make use of all manner of elaborate paraphernalia. It is true +we require no paraphernalia, and we produce unexpected results, but we +are not conjuring. + +To turn now to Von Hartmann. When I read Mr. Sully’s article in the +_Westminster Review_, I did not know whether the sense of mystification +which it produced in me was wholly due to Von Hartmann or no; but on +making acquaintance with Von Hartmann himself, I found that Mr. Sully has +erred, if at all, in making him more intelligible than he actually is. +Von Hartmann has not got a meaning. Give him Professor Hering’s key and +he might get one, but it would be at the expense of seeing what approach +he had made to a system fallen to pieces. Granted that in his details +and subordinate passages he often both has and conveys a meaning, there +is, nevertheless, no coherence between these details, and the nearest +approach to a broad conception covering the work which the reader can +carry away with him is at once so incomprehensible and repulsive, that it +is difficult to write about it without saying more perhaps than those who +have not seen the original will accept as likely to be true. The idea to +which I refer is that of an unconscious clairvoyance, which, from the +language continually used concerning it, must be of the nature of a +person, and which is supposed to take possession of living beings so +fully as to be the very essence of their nature, the promoter of their +embryonic development, and the instigator of their instinctive actions. +This approaches closely to the personal God of Mosaic and Christian +theology, with the exception that the word “clairvoyance” {89} is +substituted for God, and that the God is supposed to be unconscious. + +Mr. Sully says:— + + “When we grasp it [the philosophy of Von Hartmann] as a whole, it + amounts to nothing more than this, that all or nearly all the + phenomena of the material and spiritual world rest upon and result + from a mysterious, unconscious being, though to call it being is + really to add on an idea not immediately contained within the + all-sufficient principle. But what difference is there between this + and saying that the phenomena of the world at large come we know not + whence? . . . The unconscious, therefore, tends to be simple phrase + and nothing more . . . No doubt there are a number of mental + processes . . . of which we are unconscious . . . but to infer from + this that they are due to an unconscious power, and to proceed to + demonstrate them in the presence of the unconscious through all + nature, is to make an unwarrantable _saltus_ in reasoning. What, in + fact, is this ‘unconscious’ but a high-sounding name to veil our + ignorance? Is the unconscious any better explanation of phenomena we + do not understand than the ‘devil-devil’ by which Australian tribes + explain the Leyden jar and its phenomena? Does it increase our + knowledge to know that we do not know the origin of language or the + cause of instinct? . . . Alike in organic creation and the evolution + of history ‘performances and actions’—the words are those of + Strauss—are ascribed to an unconscious, which can only belong to a + conscious being. {90a} + + . . . . . + + “The difficulties of the system advance as we proceed. {90b} + Subtract this questionable factor—the unconscious from Hartmann’s + ‘Biology and Psychology,’ and the chapters remain pleasant and + instructive reading. But with the third part of his work—the + Metaphysic of the Unconscious—our feet are clogged at every step. We + are encircled by the merest play of words, the most unsatisfactory + demonstrations, and most inconsistent inferences. The theory of + final causes has been hitherto employed to show the wisdom of the + world; with our Pessimist philosopher it shows nothing but its + irrationality and misery. Consciousness has been generally supposed + to be the condition of all happiness and interest in life; here it + simply awakens us to misery, and the lower an animal lies in the + scale of conscious life, the better and the pleasanter its lot. + + . . . . . + + “Thus, then, the universe, as an emanation of the unconscious, has + been constructed. {90c} Throughout it has been marked by design, by + purpose, by finality; throughout a wonderful adaptation of means to + ends, a wonderful adjustment and relativity in different portions has + been noticed—and all this for what conclusion? Not, as in the hands + of the natural theologians of the eighteenth century, to show that + the world is the result of design, of an intelligent, beneficent + Creator, but the manifestation of a Being whose only predicates are + negatives, whose very essence is to be unconscious. It is not only + like ancient Athens, to an unknown, but to an unknowing God, that + modern Pessimism rears its altar. Yet surely the fact that the + motive principle of existence moves in a mysterious way outside our + consciousness no way requires that the All-one Being should be + himself unconscious.” + +I believe the foregoing to convey as correct an idea of Von Hartmann’s +system as it is possible to convey, and will leave it to the reader to +say how much in common there is between this and the lecture given in the +preceding chapter, beyond the fact that both touch upon unconscious +actions. The extract which will form my next chapter is only about a +thirtieth part of the entire “Philosophy of the Unconscious,” but it +will, I believe, suffice to substantiate the justice of what Mr. Sully +has said in the passages above quoted. + +As regards the accuracy of the translation, I have submitted all passages +about which I was in the least doubtful to the same gentleman who revised +my translation of Professor Hering’s lecture; I have also given the +German wherever I thought the reader might be glad to see it. + + + + +Chapter VIII + + +Translation of the chapter on “The Unconscious in Instinct,” from Von +Hartmann’s “Philosophy of the Unconscious.” + +VON HARTMANN’S chapter on instinct is as follows:— + +Instinct is action taken in pursuance of a purpose but without conscious +perception of what the purpose is. {92a} + +A purposive action, with consciousness of the purpose and where the +course taken is the result of deliberation is not said to be instinctive; +nor yet, again, is blind aimless action, such as outbreaks of fury on the +part of offended or otherwise enraged animals. I see no occasion for +disturbing the commonly received definition of instinct as given above; +for those who think they can refer all the so-called ordinary instincts +of animals to conscious deliberation _ipso facto_ deny that there is such +a thing as instinct at all, and should strike the word out of their +vocabulary. But of this more hereafter. + +Assuming, then, the existence of instinctive action as above defined, it +can be explained as— + +I. A mere necessary consequence of bodily organisation. {92b} + +II. A mechanism of brain or mind contrived by nature. + +III. The outcome of an unconscious activity of mind. + +In neither of the two first cases is there any scope for the idea of +purpose; in the third, purpose must be present immediately before the +action. In the two first cases, action is supposed to be brought about +by means of an initial arrangement, either of bodily or mental mechanism, +purpose being conceived of as existing on a single occasion only—that is +to say, in the determination of the initial arrangement. In the third, +purpose is conceived as present in every individual instance. Let us +proceed to the consideration of these three cases. + +Instinct is not a mere consequence of bodily organisation; for— + +(_a_.) Bodies may be alike, yet they may be endowed with different +instincts. + +All spiders have the same spinning apparatus, but one kind weaves +radiating webs, another irregular ones, while a third makes none at all, +but lives in holes, whose walls it overspins, and whose entrance it +closes with a door. Almost all birds have a like organisation for the +construction of their nests (a beak and feet), but how infinitely do +their nests vary in appearance, mode of construction, attachment to +surrounding objects (they stand, are glued on, hang, &c.), selection of +site (caves, holes, corners, forks of trees, shrubs, the ground), and +excellence of workmanship; how often, too, are they not varied in the +species of a single genus, as of _parus_. Many birds, moreover, build no +nest at all. The difference in the songs of birds are in like manner +independent of the special construction of their voice apparatus, nor do +the modes of nest construction that obtain among ants and bees depend +upon their bodily organisation. Organisation, as a general rule, only +renders the bird capable of singing, as giving it an apparatus with which +to sing at all, but it has nothing to do with the specific character of +the execution . . . The nursing, defence, and education of offspring +cannot be considered as in any way more dependent upon bodily +organisation; nor yet the sites which insects choose for the laying of +their eggs; nor, again, the selection of deposits of spawn, of their own +species, by male fish for impregnation. The rabbit burrows, the hare +does not, though both have the same burrowing apparatus. The hare, +however, has less need of a subterranean place of refuge by reason of its +greater swiftness. Some birds, with excellent powers of flight, are +nevertheless stationary in their habits, as the secretary falcon and +certain other birds of prey; while even such moderate fliers as quails +are sometimes known to make very distant migrations. + +(_b_.) Like instincts may be found associated with unlike organs. + +Birds with and without feet adapted for climbing live in trees; so also +do monkeys with and without flexible tails, squirrels, sloths, pumas, &c. +Mole-crickets dig with a well-pronounced spade upon their fore-feet, +while the burying-beetle does the same thing though it has no special +apparatus whatever. The mole conveys its winter provender in pockets, an +inch wide, long and half an inch wide within its cheeks; the field-mouse +does so without the help of any such contrivance. The migratory instinct +displays itself with equal strength in animals of widely different form, +by whatever means they may pursue their journey, whether by water, land, +or air. + +It is clear, therefore, that instinct is in great measure independent of +bodily organisation. Granted, indeed, that a certain amount of bodily +apparatus is a _sine quâ non_ for any power of execution at all—as, for +example, that there would be no ingenious nest without organs more or +less adapted for its construction, no spinning of a web without spinning +glands—nevertheless, it is impossible to maintain that instinct is a +consequence of organisation. The mere existence of the organ does not +constitute even the smallest incentive to any corresponding habitual +activity. A sensation of pleasure must at least accompany the use of the +organ before its existence can incite to its employment. And even so +when a sensation of pleasure has given the impulse which is to render it +active, it is only the fact of there being activity at all, and not the +special characteristics of the activity, that can be due to organisation. +The reason for the special mode of the activity is the very problem that +we have to solve. No one will call the action of the spider instinctive +in voiding the fluid from her spinning gland when it is too full, and +therefore painful to her; nor that of the male fish when it does what +amounts to much the same thing as this. The instinct and the marvel lie +in the fact that the spider spins threads, and proceeds to weave her web +with them, and that the male fish will only impregnate ova of his own +species. + +Another proof that the pleasure felt in the employment of an organ is +wholly inadequate to account for this employment is to be found in the +fact that the moral greatness of instinct, the point in respect of which +it most commands our admiration, consists in the obedience paid to its +behests, to the postponement of all personal well-being, and at the cost, +it may be, of life itself. If the mere pleasure of relieving certain +glands from overfulness were the reason why caterpillars generally spin +webs, they would go on spinning until they had relieved these glands, but +they would not repair their work as often as any one destroyed it, and do +this again and again until they die of exhaustion. The same holds good +with the other instincts that at first sight appear to be inspired only +by a sensation of pleasure; for if we change the circumstances, so as to +put self-sacrifice in the place of self-interest, it becomes at once +apparent that they have a higher source than this. We think, for +example, that birds pair for the sake of mere sexual gratification; why, +then, do they leave off pairing as soon as they have laid the requisite +number of eggs? That there is a reproductive instinct over and above the +desire for sexual gratification appears from the fact that if a man takes +an egg out of the nest, the birds will come together again and the hen +will lay another egg; or, if they belong to some of the more wary +species, they will desert their nest, and make preparation for an +entirely new brood. A female wryneck, whose nest was daily robbed of the +egg she laid in it, continued to lay a new one, which grew smaller and +smaller, till, when she had laid her twenty-ninth egg, she was found dead +upon her nest. If an instinct cannot stand the test of self-sacrifice—if +it is the simple outcome of a desire for bodily gratification—then it is +no true instinct, and is only so called erroneously. + +Instinct is not a mechanism of brain or mind implanted in living beings +by nature; for, if it were, then instinctive action without any, even +unconscious, activity of mind, and with no conception concerning the +purpose of the action, would be executed mechanically, the purpose having +been once for all thought out by Nature or Providence, which has so +organised the individual that it acts henceforth as a purely mechanical +medium. We are now dealing with a psychical organisation as the cause +instinct, as we were above dealing with a physical. A psychical +organisation would be a conceivable explanation and we need look no +farther if every instinct once belonging to an animal discharged its +functions in an unvarying manner. But this is never found to be the +case, for instincts vary when there arises a sufficient motive for +varying them. This proves that special exterior circumstances enter into +the matter, and that these circumstances are the very things that render +the attainment of the purpose possible through means selected by the +instinct. Here first do we find instinct acting as though it were +actually design with action following at its heels, for until the arrival +of the motive, the instinct remains late and discharges no function +whatever. The motive enters by way of an idea received into the mind +through the instrumentality of the senses, and there is a constant +connection between instinct in action and all sensual images which give +information that an opportunity has arisen for attaining the ends +proposed to itself by the instinct. + +The psychical mechanism of this constant connection must also be looked +for. It may help us here to turn to the piano for an illustration. The +struck keys are the motives, the notes that sound in consequence are the +instincts in action. This illustration might perhaps be allowed to pass +(if we also suppose that entirely different keys can give out the same +sound) if instincts could only be compared with _distinctly tuned_ notes, +so that one and the same instinct acted always in the same manner on the +rising of the motive which should set it in action. This, however, is +not so; for it is the blind unconscious purpose of the instinct that is +alone constant, the instinct itself—that is to say, the will to make use +of certain means—varying as the means that can be most suitably employed +vary under varying circumstances. + +In this we condemn the theory which refuses to recognise unconscious +purpose as present in each individual case of instinctive action. For he +who maintains instinct to be the result of a mechanism of mind, must +suppose a special and constant mechanism for each variation and +modification of the instinct in accordance with exterior circumstances, +{97} that is to say, a new string giving a note with a new tone must be +inserted, and this would involve the mechanism in endless complication. +But the fact that the purpose is constant notwithstanding all manner of +variation in the means chosen by the instinct, proves that there is no +necessity for the supposition of such an elaborate mental mechanism—the +presence of an unconscious purpose being sufficient to explain the facts. +The purpose of the bird, for example, that has laid her eggs is constant, +and consists in the desire to bring her young to maturity. When the +temperature of the air is insufficient to effect this, she sits upon her +eggs, and only intermits her sittings in the warmest countries; the +mammal, on the other hand, attains the fulfilment of its instinctive +purpose without any co-operation on its own part. In warm climates many +birds only sit by night, and small exotic birds that have built in +aviaries kept at a high temperature sit little upon their eggs or not at +all. How inconceivable is the supposition of a mechanism that impels the +bird to sit as soon as the temperature falls below a certain height! How +clear and simple, on the other hand, is the view that there is an +unconscious purpose constraining the volition of the bird to the use of +the fitting means, of which process, however, only the last link, that is +to say, the will immediately preceding the action falls within the +consciousness of the bird! + +In South Africa the sparrow surrounds her nest with thorns as a defence +against apes and serpents. The eggs of the cuckoo, as regards size, +colour, and marking, invariably resemble those of the birds in whose +nests she lays. Sylvia _ruja_, for example, lays a white egg with violet +spots; _Sylvia hippolais_, a red one with black spots; _Regulus +ignicapellus_, a cloudy red; but the cuckoo’s egg is in each case so +deceptive an imitation of its model, that it can hardly be distinguished +except by the structure of its shell. + +Huber contrived that his bees should be unable to build in their usual +instinctive manner, beginning from above and working downwards; on this +they began building from below, and again horizontally. The outermost +cells that spring from the top of the hive or abut against its sides are +not hexagonal, but pentagonal, so as to gain in strength, being attached +with one base instead of two sides. In autumn bees lengthen their +existing honey cells if these are insufficient, but in the ensuing spring +they again shorten them in order to get greater roadway between the +combs. When the full combs have become too heavy, they strengthen the +walls of the uppermost or bearing cells by thickening them with wax and +propolis. If larvæ of working bees are introduced into the cells set +apart for drones, the working bees will cover these cells with the flat +lids usual for this kind of larvæ, and not with the round ones that are +proper for drones. In autumn, as a general rule, bees kill their drones, +but they refrain from doing this when they have lost their queen, and +keep them to fertilise the young queen, who will be developed from larvæ +that would otherwise have become working bees. Huber observed that they +defend the entrance of their hive against the inroads of the sphinx moth +by means of skilful constructions made of wax and propolis. They only +introduce propolis when they want it for the execution of repairs, or for +some other special purpose. Spiders and caterpillars also display +marvellous dexterity in the repair of their webs if they have been +damaged, and this requires powers perfectly distinct from those requisite +for the construction of a new one. + +The above examples might be multiplied indefinitely, but they are +sufficient to establish the fact that instincts are not capacities +rolled, as it were, off a reel mechanically, according to an invariable +system, but that they adapt themselves most closely to the circumstances +of each case, and are capable of such great modification and variation +that at times they almost appear to cease to be instinctive. + +Many will, indeed, ascribe these modifications to conscious deliberation +on the part of the animals themselves, and it is impossible to deny that +in the case of the more intellectually gifted animals there may be such a +thing as a combination of instinctive faculty and conscious reflection. +I think, however, the examples already cited are enough to show that +often where the normal and the abnormal action springs from the same +source, without any complication with conscious deliberation, they are +either both instinctive or both deliberative. {99} Or is that which +prompts the bee to build hexagonal prisms in the middle of her comb +something of an actually distinct character from that which impels her to +build pentagonal ones at the sides? Are there two separate kinds of +thing, one of which induces birds under certain circumstances to sit upon +their eggs, while another leads them under certain other circumstances to +refrain from doing so? And does this hold good also with bees when they +at one time kill their brethren without mercy and at another grant them +their lives? Or with birds when they construct the kind of nest peculiar +to their race, and, again, any special provision which they may think fit +under certain circumstances to take? If it is once granted that the +normal and the abnormal manifestations of instinct—and they are often +incapable of being distinguished—spring from a single source, then the +objection that the modification is due to conscious knowledge will be +found to be a suicidal one later on, so far as it is directed against +instinct generally. It may be sufficient here to point out, in +anticipation of remarks that will be found in later chapters, that +instinct and the power of organic development involve the same essential +principle, though operating under different circumstances—the two melting +into one another without any definite boundary between them. Here, then, +we have conclusive proof that instinct does not depend upon organisation +of body or brain, but that, more truly, the organisation is due to the +nature and manner of the instinct. + +On the other hand, we must now return to a closer consideration of the +conception of a psychical mechanism. {100} And here we find that this +mechanism, in spite of its explaining so much, is itself so obscure that +we can hardly form any idea concerning it. The motive enters the mind by +way of a conscious sensual impression; this is the first link of the +process; the last link {101} appears as the conscious motive of an +action. Both, however, are entirely unlike, and neither has anything to +do with ordinary motivation, which consists exclusively in the desire +that springs from a conception either of pleasure or dislike—the former +prompting to the attainment of any object, the latter to its avoidance. +In the case of instinct, pleasure is for the most part a concomitant +phenomenon; but it is not so always, as we have already seen, inasmuch as +the consummation and highest moral development of instinct displays +itself in self-sacrifice. + +The true problem, however, lies far deeper than this. For every +conception of a pleasure proves that we have experienced this pleasure +already. But it follows from this, that when the pleasure was first felt +there must have been will present, in the gratification of which will the +pleasure consisted; the question, therefore, arises, whence did the will +come before the pleasure that would follow on its gratification was +known, and before bodily pain, as, for example, of hunger, rendered +relief imperative? Yet we may see that even though an animal has grown +up apart from any others of its kind, it will yet none the less manifest +the instinctive impulses of its race, though experience can have taught +it nothing whatever concerning the pleasure that will ensue upon their +gratification. As regards instinct, therefore, there must be a causal +connection between the motivating sensual conception and the will to +perform the instinctive action, and the pleasure of the subsequent +gratification has nothing to do with the matter. We know by the +experience of our own instincts that this causal connection does not lie +within our consciousness; {102a} therefore, if it is to be a mechanism of +any kind, it can only be either an unconscious mechanical induction and +metamorphosis of the vibrations of the conceived motive into the +vibrations of the conscious action in the brain, or an unconscious +spiritual mechanism. + +In the first case, it is surely strange that this process should go on +unconsciously, though it is so powerful in its effects that the will +resulting from it overpowers every other consideration, every other kind +of will, and that vibrations of this kind, when set up in the brain, +become always consciously perceived; nor is it easy to conceive in what +way this metamorphosis can take place so that the constant purpose can be +attained under varying circumstances by the resulting will in modes that +vary with variation of the special features of each individual case. + +But if we take the other alternative, and suppose an unconscious mental +mechanism, we cannot legitimately conceive of the process going on in +this as other than what prevails in all mental mechanism, namely, than as +by way of idea and will. We are, therefore, compelled to imagine a +causal connection between the consciously recognised motive and the will +to do the instinctive action, through unconscious idea and will; nor do I +know how this connection can be conceived as being brought about more +simply than through a conceived and willed purpose. {102b} Arrived at +this point, however, we have attained the logical mechanism peculiar to +and inseparable from all mind, and find unconscious purpose to be an +indispensable link in every instinctive action. With this, therefore, +the conception of a mental mechanism, dead and predestined from without, +has disappeared, and has become transformed into the spiritual life +inseparable from logic, so that we have reached the sole remaining +requirement for the conception of an actual instinct, which proves to be +a conscious willing of the means towards an unconsciously willed purpose. +This conception explains clearly and without violence all the problems +which instinct presents to us; or more truly, all that was problematical +about instinct disappears when its true nature has been thus declared. +If this work were confined to the consideration of instinct alone, the +conception of an unconscious activity of mind might excite opposition, +inasmuch as it is one with which our educated public is not yet familiar; +but in a work like the present, every chapter of which adduces fresh +facts in support of the existence of such an activity and of its +remarkable consequences, the novelty of the theory should be taken no +farther into consideration. + +Though I so confidently deny that instinct is the simple action of a +mechanism which has been contrived once for all, I by no means exclude +the supposition that in the constitution of the brain, the ganglia, and +the whole body, in respect of morphological as well as +molecular-physiological condition, certain predispositions can be +established which direct the unconscious intermediaries more readily into +one channel than into another. This predisposition is either the result +of a habit which keeps continually cutting for itself a deeper and deeper +channel, until in the end it leaves indelible traces whether in the +individual or in the race, or it is expressly called into being by the +unconscious formative principle in generation, so as to facilitate action +in a given direction. This last will be the case more frequently in +respect of exterior organisation—as, for example, with the weapons or +working organs of animals—while to the former must be referred the +molecular condition of brain and ganglia which bring about the +perpetually recurring elements of an instinct such as the hexagonal shape +of the cells of bees. We shall presently see that by individual +character we mean the sum of the individual methods of reaction against +all possible motives, and that this character depends essentially upon a +constitution of mind and body acquired in some measure through habit by +the individual, but for the most part inherited. But an instinct is also +a mode of reaction against certain motives; here, too, then, we are +dealing with character, though perhaps not so much with that of the +individual as of the race; for by character in regard to instinct we do +not intend the differences that distinguish individuals, but races from +one another. If any one chooses to maintain that such a predisposition +for certain kinds of activity on the part of brain and body constitutes a +mechanism, this may in one sense be admitted; but as against this view it +must be remarked— + +1. That such deviations from the normal scheme of an instinct as cannot +be referred to conscious deliberation are not provided for by any +predisposition in this mechanism. + +2. That heredity is only possible under the circumstances of a constant +superintendence of the embryonic development by a purposive unconscious +activity of growth. It must be admitted, however, that this is +influenced in return by the predisposition existing in the germ. + +3. That the impressing of the predisposition upon the individual from +whom it is inherited can only be effected by long practice, consequently +the instinct without auxiliary mechanism {105a} is the originating cause +of the auxiliary mechanism. + +4. That none of those instinctive actions that are performed rarely, or +perhaps once only, in the lifetime of any individual—as, for example, +those connected with the propagation and metamorphoses of the lower forms +of life, and none of those instinctive omissions of action, neglect of +which necessarily entails death—can be conceived as having become +engrained into the character through habit; the ganglionic constitution, +therefore, that predisposes the animal towards them must have been +fashioned purposively. + +5. That even the presence of an auxiliary mechanism {105b} does not +compel the unconscious to a particular corresponding mode of instinctive +action, but only predisposes it. This is shown by the possibility of +departure from the normal type of action, so that the unconscious purpose +is always stronger than the ganglionic constitution, and takes any +opportunity of choosing from several similar possible courses the one +that is handiest and most convenient to the constitution of the +individual. + +We now approach the question that I have reserved for our final one,—Is +there, namely, actually such a thing as instinct, {105c} or are all +so-called instinctive actions only the results of conscious deliberation? + +In support of the second of these two views, it may be alleged that the +more limited is the range of the conscious mental activity of any living +being, the more fully developed in proportion to its entire mental power +is its performance commonly found to be in respect of its own limited and +special instinctive department. This holds as good with the lower +animals as with men, and is explained by the fact that perfection of +proficiency is only partly dependent upon natural capacity, but is in +great measure due to practice and cultivation of the original faculty. A +philologist, for example, is unskilled in questions of jurisprudence; a +natural philosopher or mathematician, in philology; an abstract +philosopher, in poetical criticism. Nor has this anything to do with the +natural talents of the several persons, but follows as a consequence of +their special training. The more special, therefore, is the direction in +which the mental activity of any living being is exercised, the more will +the whole developing and practising power of the mind be brought to bear +upon this one branch, so that it is not surprising if the special power +comes ultimately to bear an increased proportion to the total power of +the individual, through the contraction of the range within which it is +exercised. + +Those, however, who apply this to the elucidation of instinct should not +forget the words, “in proportion to the entire mental power of the animal +in question,” and should bear in mind that the entire mental power +becomes less and less continually as we descend the scale of animal life, +whereas proficiency in the performance of an instinctive action seems to +be much of a muchness in all grades of the animal world. As, therefore, +those performances which indisputably proceed from conscious deliberation +decrease proportionately with decrease of mental power, while nothing of +the kind is observable in the case of instinct—it follows that instinct +must involve some other principle than that of conscious intelligence. +We see, moreover, that actions which have their source in conscious +intelligence are of one and the same kind, whether among the lower +animals or with mankind—that is to say, that they are acquired by +apprenticeship or instruction and perfected by practice; so that the +saying, “Age brings wisdom,” holds good with the brutes as much as with +ourselves. Instinctive actions, on the contrary, have a special and +distinct character, in that they are performed with no less proficiency +by animals that have been reared in solitude than by those that have been +instructed by their parents, the first essays of a hitherto unpractised +animal being as successful as its later ones. There is a difference in +principle here which cannot be mistaken. Again, we know by experience +that the feebler and more limited an intelligence is, the more slowly do +ideas act upon it, that is to say, the slower and more laborious is its +conscious thought. So long as instinct does not come into play, this +holds good both in the case of men of different powers of comprehension +and with animals; but with instinct all is changed, for it is the +speciality of instinct never to hesitate or loiter, but to take action +instantly upon perceiving that the stimulating motive has made its +appearance. This rapidity in arriving at a resolution is common to the +instinctive actions both of the highest and the lowest animals, and +indicates an essential difference between instinct and conscious +deliberation. + +Finally, as regards perfection of the power of execution, a glance will +suffice to show the disproportion that exists between this and the grade +of intellectual activity on which an animal may be standing. Take, for +instance, the caterpillar of the emperor moth (_Saturnia pavonia minor_). +It eats the leaves of the bush upon which it was born; at the utmost has +just enough sense to get on to the lower sides of the leaves if it begins +to rain, and from time to time changes its skin. This is its whole +existence, which certainly does not lead us to expect a display of any, +even the most limited, intellectual power. When, however, the time comes +for the larva of this moth to become a chrysalis, it spins for itself a +double cocoon, fortified with bristles that point outwards, so that it +can be opened easily from within, though it is sufficiently impenetrable +from without. If this contrivance were the result of conscious +reflection, we should have to suppose some such reasoning process as the +following to take place in the mind of the caterpillar:—“I am about to +become a chrysalis, and, motionless as I must be, shall be exposed to +many different kinds of attack. I must therefore weave myself a web. +But when I am a moth I shall not be able, as some moths are, to find my +way out of it by chemical or mechanical means; therefore I must leave a +way open for myself. In order, however, that my enemies may not take +advantage of this, I will close it with elastic bristles, which I can +easily push asunder from within, but which, upon the principle of the +arch, will resist all pressure from without.” Surely this is asking +rather too much from a poor caterpillar; yet the whole of the foregoing +must be thought out if a correct result is to be arrived at. + +This theoretical separation of instinct from conscious intelligence can +be easily misrepresented by opponents of my theory, as though a +separation in practice also would be necessitated in consequence. This +is by no means my intention. On the contrary, I have already insisted at +some length that both the two kinds of mental activity may co-exist in +all manner of different proportions, so that there may be every degree of +combination, from pure instinct to pure deliberation. We shall see, +however, in a later chapter, that even in the highest and most abstract +activity of human consciousness there are forces at work that are of the +highest importance, and are essentially of the same kind as instinct. + +On the other hand, the most marvellous displays of instinct are to be +found not only in plants, but also in those lowest organisms of the +simplest bodily form which are partly unicellular, and in respect of +conscious intelligence stand far below the higher plants—to which, +indeed, any kind of deliberative faculty is commonly denied. Even in the +case of those minute microscopic organisms that baffle our attempts to +classify them either as animals or vegetables, we are still compelled to +admire an instinctive, purposive behaviour, which goes far beyond a mere +reflex responsive to a stimulus from without; all doubt, therefore, +concerning the actual existence of an instinct must be at an end, and the +attempt to deduce it as a consequence of conscious deliberation be given +up as hopeless. I will here adduce an instance as extraordinary as any +we yet know of, showing, as it does, that many different purposes, which +in the case of the higher animals require a complicated system of organs +of motion, can be attained with incredibly simple means. + +_Arcella vulgaris_ is a minute morsel of protoplasm, which lives in a +concave-convex, brown, finely reticulated shell, through a circular +opening in the concave side of which it can project itself by throwing +out _pseudopodia_. If we look through the microscope at a drop of water +containing living _arcellæ_, we may happen to see one of them lying on +its back at the bottom of the drop, and making fruitless efforts for two +or three minutes to lay hold of some fixed point by means of a +_pseudopodium_. After this there will appear suddenly from two to five, +but sometimes more, dark points in the protoplasm at a small distance +from the circumference, and, as a rule, at regular distances from one +another. These rapidly develop themselves into well-defined spherical +air vesicles, and come presently to fill a considerable part of the +hollow of the shell, thereby driving part of the protoplasm outside it. +After from five to twenty minutes, the specific gravity of the _arcella_ +is so much lessened that it is lifted by the water with its +_pseudopodia_, and brought up against the upper surface of the +water-drop, on which it is able to travel. In from five to ten minutes +the vesicles will now disappear, the last small point vanishing with a +jerk. If, however, the creature has been accidentally turned over during +its journey, and reaches the top of the water-drop with its back +uppermost, the vesicles will continue growing only on one side, while +they diminish on the other; by this means the shell is brought first into +an oblique and then into a vertical position, until one of the +_pseudopodia_ obtains a footing and the whole turns over. From the +moment the animal has obtained foothold, the bladders become immediately +smaller, and after they have disappeared the experiment may be repeated +at pleasure. + +The positions of the protoplasm which the vesicles fashion change +continually; only the grainless protoplasm of the _pseudopodia_ develops +no air. After long and fruitless efforts a manifest fatigue sets in; the +animal gives up the attempt for a time, and resumes it after an interval +of repose. + +Engelmann, the discoverer of these phenomena, says (Pflüger’s Archiv für +Physologie, Bd. II.): “The changes in volume in all the vesicles of the +same animal are for the most part synchronous, effected in the same +manner, and of like size. There are, however, not a few exceptions; it +often happens that some of them increase or diminish in volume much +faster than others; sometimes one may increase while another diminishes; +all the changes, however, are throughout unquestionably intentional. The +object of the air-vesicles is to bring the animal into such a position +that it can take fast hold of something with its _pseudopodia_. When +this has been obtained, the air disappears without our being able to +discover any other reason for its disappearance than the fact that it is +no longer needed. . . . If we bear these circumstances in mind, we can +almost always tell whether an _arcella_ will develop air-vesicles or no; +and if it has already developed them, we can tell whether they will +increase or diminish . . . The _arcellæ_, in fact, in this power of +altering their specific gravity possess a mechanism for raising +themselves to the top of the water, or lowering themselves to the bottom +at will. They use this not only in the abnormal circumstances of their +being under microscopical observation, but at all times, as may be known +by our being always able to find some specimens with air-bladders at the +top of the water in which they live.” + +If what has been already advanced has failed to convince the reader of +the hopelessness of attempting to explain instinct as a mode of conscious +deliberation, he must admit that the following considerations are +conclusive. It is most certain that deliberation and conscious +reflection can only take account of such data as are consciously +perceived; if, then, it can be shown that data absolutely indispensable +for the arrival at a just conclusion cannot by any possibility have been +known consciously, the result can no longer be held as having had its +source in conscious deliberation. It is admitted that the only way in +which consciousness can arrive at a knowledge of exterior facts is by way +of an impression made upon the senses. We must, therefore, prove that a +knowledge of the facts indispensable for arrival at a just conclusion +could not have been thus acquired. This may be done as follows: {111} +for, Firstly, the facts in question lie in the future, and the present +gives no ground for conjecturing the time and manner of their subsequent +development. + +Secondly, they are manifestly debarred from the category of perceptions +perceived through the senses, inasmuch as no information can be derived +concerning them except through experience of similar occurrences in time +past, and such experience is plainly out of the question. + +It would not affect the argument if, as I think likely, it were to turn +out, with the advance of our physiological knowledge, that all the +examples of the first case that I am about to adduce reduce themselves to +examples of the second, as must be admitted to have already happened in +respect of many that I have adduced hitherto. For it is hardly more +difficult to conceive of _à priori_ knowledge, disconnected from any +impression made upon the senses, than of knowledge which, it is true, +does at the present day manifest itself upon the occasion of certain +general perceptions, but which can only be supposed to be connected with +these by means of such a chain of inferences and judiciously applied +knowledge as cannot be believed to exist when we have regard to the +capacity and organisation of the animal we may be considering. + +An example of the first case is supplied by the larva of the stag-beetle +in its endeavour to make itself a convenient hole in which to become a +chrysalis. The female larva digs a hole exactly her own size, but the +male makes one as long again as himself, so as to allow for the growth of +his horns, which will be about the same length as his body. A knowledge +of this circumstance is indispensable if the result achieved is to be +considered as due to reflection, yet the actual present of the larva +affords it no ground for conjecturing beforehand the condition in which +it will presently find itself. + +As regards the second case, ferrets and buzzards fall forthwith upon +blind worms or other non-poisonous snakes, and devour them then and +there. But they exhibit the greatest caution in laying hold of adders, +even though they have never before seen one, and will endeavour first to +bruise their heads, so as to avoid being bitten. As there is nothing in +any other respect alarming in the adder, a conscious knowledge of the +danger of its bite is indispensable, if the conduct above described is to +be referred to conscious deliberation. But this could only have been +acquired through experience, and the possibility of such experience may +be controlled in the case of animals that have been kept in captivity +from their youth up, so that the knowledge displayed can be ascertained +to be independent of experience. On the other hand, both the above +illustrations afford evidence of an unconscious perception of the facts, +and prove the existence of a direct knowledge underivable from any +sensual impression or from consciousness. + +This has always been recognised, {113} and has been described under the +words “presentiment” or “foreboding.” These words, however, refer, on +the one hand, only to an unknowable in the future, separated from us by +space, and not to one that is actually present; on the other hand, they +denote only the faint, dull, indefinite echo returned by consciousness to +an invariably distinct state of unconscious knowledge. Hence the word +“presentiment,” which carries with it an idea of faintness and +indistinctness, while, however, it may be easily seen that sentiment +destitute of all, even unconscious, ideas can have no influence upon the +result, for knowledge can only follow upon an idea. A presentiment that +sounds in consonance with our consciousness can indeed, under certain +circumstances, become tolerably definite, so that in the case of man it +can be expressed in thought and language; but experience teaches us that +even among ourselves this is not so when instincts special to the human +race come into play; we see rather that the echo of our unconscious +knowledge which finds its way into our consciousness is so weak that it +manifests itself only in the accompanying feelings or frame of mind, and +represents but an infinitely small fraction of the sum of our sensations. +It is obvious that such a faintly sympathetic consciousness cannot form a +sufficient foundation for a superstructure of conscious deliberation; on +the other hand, conscious deliberation would be unnecessary, inasmuch as +the process of thinking must have been already gone through +unconsciously, for every faint presentiment that obtrudes itself upon our +consciousness is in fact only the consequence of a distinct unconscious +knowledge, and the knowledge with which it is concerned is almost always +an idea of the purpose of some instinctive action, or of one most +intimately connected therewith. Thus, in the case of the stag-beetle, +the purpose consists in the leaving space for the growth of the horns; +the means, in the digging the hole of a sufficient size; and the +unconscious knowledge, in prescience concerning the future development of +the horns. + +Lastly, all instinctive actions give us an impression of absolute +security and infallibility. With instinct the will is never hesitating +or weak, as it is when inferences are being drawn consciously. We never +find instinct making mistakes; we cannot, therefore, ascribe a result +which is so invariably precise to such an obscure condition of mind as is +implied when the word presentiment is used; on the contrary, this +absolute certainty is so characteristic a feature of instinctive actions, +that it constitutes almost the only well-marked point of distinction +between these and actions that are done upon reflection. But from this +it must again follow that some principle lies at the root of instinct +other than that which underlies reflective action, and this can only be +looked for in a determination of the will through a process that lies in +the unconscious, {115a} to which this character of unhesitating +infallibility will attach itself in all our future investigations. + +Many will be surprised at my ascribing to instinct an unconscious +knowledge, arising out of no sensual impression, and yet invariably +accurate. This, however, is not a consequence of my theory concerning +instinct; it is the foundation on which that theory is based, and is +forced upon us by facts. I must therefore adduce examples. And to give +a name to the unconscious knowledge, which is not acquired through +impression made upon the senses, but which will be found to be in our +possession, though attained without the instrumentality of means, {115b} +I prefer the word “clairvoyance” {115c} to “presentiment,” which, for +reasons already given, will not serve me. This word, therefore, will be +here employed throughout, as above defined. + +Let us now consider examples of the instincts of self-preservation, +subsistence, migration, and the continuation of the species. Most +animals know their natural enemies prior to experience of any hostile +designs upon themselves. A flight of young pigeons, even though they +have no old birds with them, will become shy, and will separate from one +another on the approach of a bird of prey. Horses and cattle that come +from countries where there are no lions become unquiet and display alarm +as soon as they are aware that a lion is approaching them in the night. +Horses going along a bridle-path that used to leave the town at the back +of the old dens of the carnivora in the Berlin Zoological Gardens were +often terrified by the propinquity of enemies who were entirely unknown +to them. Sticklebacks will swim composedly among a number of voracious +pike, knowing, as they do, that the pike will not touch them. For if a +pike once by mistake swallows a stickleback, the stickleback will stick +in its throat by reason of the spine it carries upon its back, and the +pike must starve to death without being able to transmit his painful +experience to his descendants. In some countries there are people who by +choice eat dog’s flesh; dogs are invariably savage in the presence of +these persons, as recognising in them enemies at whose hands they may one +day come to harm. This is the more wonderful inasmuch as dog’s fat +applied externally (as when rubbed upon boots) attracts dogs by its +smell. Grant saw a young chimpanzee throw itself into convulsions of +terror at the sight of a large snake; and even among ourselves a Gretchen +can often detect a Mephistopheles. An insect of the genius _bombyx_ will +seize another of the genus _parnopæa_, and kill it wherever it finds it, +without making any subsequent use of the body; but we know that the +last-named insect lies in wait for the eggs of the first, and is +therefore the natural enemy of its race. The phenomenon known to +stockdrivers and shepherds as “das Biesen des Viehes” affords another +example. For when a “dassel” or “bies” fly draws near the herd, the +cattle become unmanageable and run about among one another as though they +were mad, knowing, as they do, that the larvæ from the eggs which the fly +will lay upon them will presently pierce their hides and occasion them +painful sores. These “dassel” flies—which have no sting—closely resemble +another kind of gadfly which has a sting. Nevertheless, this last kind +is little feared by cattle, while the first is so to an inordinate +extent. The laying of the eggs upon the skin is at the time quite +painless, and no ill consequences follow until long afterwards, so that +we cannot suppose the cattle to draw a conscious inference concerning the +connection that exists between the two. I have already spoken of the +foresight shown by ferrets and buzzards in respect of adders; in like +manner a young honey-buzzard, on being shown a wasp for the first time, +immediately devoured it after having squeezed the sting from its body. +No animal, whose instinct has not been vitiated by unnatural habits, will +eat poisonous plants. Even when apes have contracted bad habits through +their having been brought into contact with mankind, they can still be +trusted to show us whether certain fruits found in their native forests +are poisonous or no; for if poisonous fruits are offered them they will +refuse them with loud cries. Every animal will choose for its sustenance +exactly those animal or vegetable substances which agree best with its +digestive organs, without having received any instruction on the matter, +and without testing them beforehand. Even, indeed, though we assume that +the power of distinguishing the different kinds of food is due to sight +and not to smell, it remains none the less mysterious how the animal can +know what it is that will agree with it. Thus the kid which Galen took +prematurely from its mother smelt at all the different kinds of food that +were set before it, but drank only the milk without touching anything +else. The cherry-finch opens a cherry-stone by turning it so that her +beak can hit the part where the two sides join, and does this as much +with the first stone she cracks as with the last. Fitchets, martens, and +weasels make small holes on the opposite sides of an egg which they are +about to suck, so that the air may come in while they are sucking. Not +only do animals know the food that will suit them best, but they find out +the most suitable remedies when they are ill, and constantly form a +correct diagnosis of their malady with a therapeutical knowledge which +they cannot possibly have acquired. Dogs will often eat a great quantity +of grass—particularly couch-grass—when they are unwell, especially after +spring, if they have worms, which thus pass from them entangled in the +grass, or if they want to get fragments of bone from out of their +stomachs. As a purgative they make use of plants that sting. Hens and +pigeons pick lime from walls and pavements if their food does not afford +them lime enough to make their eggshells with. Little children eat chalk +when suffering from acidity of the stomach, and pieces of charcoal if +they are troubled with flatulence. We may observe these same instincts +for certain kinds of food or drugs even among grown-up people, under +circumstances in which their unconscious nature has unusual power; as, +for example, among women when they are pregnant, whose capricious +appetites are probably due to some special condition of the fœtus, which +renders a certain state of the blood desirable. Field-mice bite off the +germs of the corn which they collect together, in order to prevent its +growing during the winter. Some days before the beginning of cold +weather the squirrel is most assiduous in augmenting its store, and then +closes its dwelling. Birds of passage betake themselves to warmer +countries at times when there is still no scarcity of food for them here, +and when the temperature is considerably warmer than it will be when they +return to us. The same holds good of the time when animals begin to +prepare their winter quarters, which beetles constantly do during the +very hottest days of autumn. When swallows and storks find their way +back to their native places over distances of hundreds of miles, and +though the aspect of the country is reversed, we say that this is due to +the acuteness of their perception of locality; but the same cannot be +said of dogs, which, though they have been carried in a bag from one +place to another that they do not know, and have been turned round and +round twenty times over, have still been known to find their way home. +Here we can say no more than that their instinct has conducted them—that +the clairvoyance of the unconscious has allowed them to conjecture their +way. {119a} + +Before an early winter, birds of passage collect themselves in +preparation for their flight sooner than usual; but when the winter is +going to be mild, they will either not migrate at all, or travel only a +small distance southward. When a hard winter is coming, tortoises will +make their burrows deeper. If wild geese, cranes, etc., soon return from +the countries to which they had betaken themselves at the beginning of +spring, it is a sign that a hot and dry summer is about to ensue in those +countries, and that the drought will prevent their being able to rear +their young. In years of flood, beavers construct their dwellings at a +higher level than usual, and shortly before an inundation the field-mice +in Kamtschatka come out of their holes in large bands. If the summer is +going to be dry, spiders may be seen in May and April, hanging from the +ends of threads several feet in length. If in winter spiders are seen +running about much, fighting with one another and preparing new webs, +there will be cold weather within the next nine days, or from that to +twelve: when they again hide themselves there will be a thaw. I have no +doubt that much of this power of prophesying the weather is due to a +perception of certain atmospheric conditions which escape ourselves, but +this perception can only have relation to a certain actual and now +present condition of the weather; and what can the impression made by +this have to do with their idea of the weather that will ensue? No one +will ascribe to animals a power of prognosticating the weather months +beforehand by means of inferences drawn logically from a series of +observations, {119b} to the extent of being able to foretell floods. It +is far more probable that the power of perceiving subtle differences of +actual atmospheric condition is nothing more than the sensual perception +which acts as motive—for a motive must assuredly be always present—when +an instinct comes into operation. It continues to hold good, therefore, +that the power of foreseeing the weather is a case of unconscious +clairvoyance, of which the stork which takes its departure for the south +four weeks earlier than usual knows no more than does the stag when +before a cold winter he grows himself a thicker pelt than is his wont. +On the one hand, animals have present in their consciousness a perception +of the actual state of the weather; on the other, their ensuing action is +precisely such as it would be if the idea present with them was that of +the weather that is about to come. This they cannot consciously have; +the only natural intermediate link, therefore, between their conscious +knowledge and their action is supplied by unconscious idea, which, +however, is always accurately prescient, inasmuch as it contains +something which is neither given directly to the animal through sensual +perception, nor can be deduced inferentially through the understanding. + +Most wonderful of all are the instincts connected with the continuation +of the species. The males always find out the females of their own kind, +but certainly not solely through their resemblance to themselves. With +many animals, as, for example, parasitic crabs, the sexes so little +resemble one another that the male would be more likely to seek a mate +from the females of a thousand other species than from his own. Certain +butterflies are polymorphic, and not only do the males and females of the +same species differ, but the females present two distinct forms, one of +which as a general rule mimics the outward appearance of a distant but +highly valued species; yet the males will pair only with the females of +their own kind, and not with the strangers, though these may be very +likely much more like the males themselves. Among the insect species of +the _strepsiptera_, the female is a shapeless worm which lives its whole +life long in the hind body of a wasp; its head, which is of the shape of +a lentil, protrudes between two of the belly rings of the wasp, the rest +of the body being inside. The male, which only lives for a few hours, +and resembles a moth, nevertheless recognises his mate in spite of these +adverse circumstances, and fecundates her. + +Before any experience of parturition, the knowledge that it is +approaching drives all mammals into solitude, and bids them prepare a +nest for their young in a hole or in some other place of shelter. The +bird builds her nest as soon as she feels the eggs coming to maturity +within her. Snails, land-crabs, tree-frogs, and toads, all of them +ordinarily dwellers upon land, now betake themselves to the water; +sea-tortoises go on shore, and many saltwater fishes come up into the +rivers in order to lay their eggs where they can alone find the +requisites for their development. Insects lay their eggs in the most +varied kinds of situations,—in sand, on leaves, under the hides and horny +substances of other animals; they often select the spot where the larva +will be able most readily to find its future sustenance, as in autumn +upon the trees that will open first in the coming spring, or in spring +upon the blossoms that will first bear fruit in autumn, or in the insides +of those caterpillars which will soonest as chrysalides provide the +parasitic larva at once with food and with protection. Other insects +select the sites from which they will first get forwarded to the +destination best adapted for their development. Thus some horseflies lay +their eggs upon the lips of horses or upon parts where they are +accustomed to lick themselves. The eggs get conveyed hence into the +entrails, the proper place for their development,—and are excreted upon +their arrival at maturity. The flies that infest cattle know so well how +to select the most vigorous and healthiest beasts, that cattle-dealers +and tanners place entire dependence upon them, and prefer those beasts +and hides that are most scarred by maggots. This selection of the best +cattle by the help of these flies is no evidence in support of the +conclusion that the flies possess the power of making experiments +consciously and of reflecting thereupon, even though the men whose trade +it is to do this recognise them as their masters. The solitary wasp +makes a hole several inches deep in the sand, lays her egg, and packs +along with it a number of green maggots that have no legs, and which, +being on the point of becoming chrysalides, are well nourished and able +to go a long time without food; she packs these maggots so closely +together that they cannot move nor turn into chrysalides, and just enough +of them to support the larva until it becomes a chrysalis. A kind of bug +(_cerceris bupresticida_), which itself lives only upon pollen, lays her +eggs in an underground cell, and with each one of them she deposits three +beetles, which she has lain in wait for and captured when they were still +weak through having only just left off being chrysalides. She kills +these beetles, and appears to smear them with a fluid whereby she +preserves them fresh and suitable for food. Many kinds of wasps open the +cells in which their larvæ are confined when these must have consumed the +provision that was left with them. They supply them with more food, and +again close the cell. Ants, again, hit always upon exactly the right +moment for opening the cocoons in which their larvæ are confined and for +setting them free, the larva being unable to do this for itself. Yet the +life of only a few kinds of insects lasts longer than a single breeding +season. What then can they know about the contents of their eggs and the +fittest place for their development? What can they know about the kind +of food the larva will want when it leaves the egg—a food so different +from their own? What, again, can they know about the quantity of food +that will be necessary? How much of all this at least can they know +consciously? Yet their actions, the pains they take, and the importance +they evidently attach to these matters, prove that they have a +foreknowledge of the future: this knowledge therefore can only be an +unconscious clairvoyance. For clairvoyance it must certainly be that +inspires the will of an animal to open cells and cocoons at the very +moment that the larva is either ready for more food or fit for leaving +the cocoon. The eggs of the cuckoo do not take only from two to three +days to mature in her ovaries, as those of most birds do, but require +from eleven to twelve; the cuckoo, therefore, cannot sit upon her own +eggs, for her first egg would be spoiled before the last was laid. She +therefore lays in other birds’ nests—of course laying each egg in a +different nest. But in order that the birds may not perceive her egg to +be a stranger and turn it out of the nest, not only does she lay an egg +much smaller than might be expected from a bird of her size (for she only +finds her opportunity among small birds), but, as already said, she +imitates the other eggs in the nest she has selected with surprising +accuracy in respect both of colour and marking. As the cuckoo chooses +the nest some days beforehand, it may be thought, if the nest is an open +one, that the cuckoo looks upon the colour of the eggs within it while +her own is in process of maturing inside her, and that it is thus her egg +comes to assume the colour of the others; but this explanation will not +hold good for nests that are made in the holes of trees, as that of +_sylvia phænicurus_, or which are oven-shaped with a narrow entrance, as +with _sylvia rufa_. In these cases the cuckoo can neither slip in nor +look in, and must therefore lay her egg outside the nest and push it +inside with her beak; she can therefore have no means of perceiving +through her senses what the eggs already in the nest are like. If, then, +in spite of all this, her egg closely resembles the others, this can only +have come about through an unconscious clairvoyance which directs the +process that goes on within the ovary in respect of colour and marking. + +An important argument in support of the existence of a clairvoyance in +the instincts of animals is to be found in the series of facts which +testify to the existence of a like clairvoyance, under certain +circumstances, even among human beings, while the self-curative instincts +of children and of pregnant women have been already mentioned. Here, +however, {124} in correspondence with the higher stage of development +which human consciousness has attained, a stronger echo of the +unconscious clairvoyance commonly resounds within consciousness itself, +and this is represented by a more or less definite presentiment of the +consequences that will ensue. It is also in accord with the greater +independence of the human intellect that this kind of presentiment is not +felt exclusively immediately before the carrying out of an action, but is +occasionally disconnected from the condition that an action has to be +performed immediately, and displays itself simply as an idea +independently of conscious will, provided only that the matter concerning +which the presentiment is felt is one which in a high degree concerns the +will of the person who feels it. In the intervals of an intermittent +fever or of other illness, it not unfrequently happens that sick persons +can accurately foretell the day of an approaching attack and how long it +will last. The same thing occurs almost invariably in the case of +spontaneous, and generally in that of artificial, somnambulism; certainly +the Pythia, as is well known, used to announce the date of her next +ecstatic state. In like manner the curative instinct displays itself in +somnambulists, and they have been known to select remedies that have been +no less remarkable for the success attending their employment than for +the completeness with which they have run counter to received +professional opinion. The indication of medicinal remedies is the only +use which respectable electro-biologists will make of the half-sleeping, +half-waking condition of those whom they are influencing. “People in +perfectly sound health have been known, before childbirth or at the +commencement of an illness, to predict accurately their own approaching +death. The accomplishment of their predictions can hardly be explained +as the result of mere chance, for if this were all, the prophecy should +fail at least as often as not, whereas the reverse is actually the case. +Many of these persons neither desire death nor fear it, so that the +result cannot be ascribed to imagination.” So writes the celebrated +physiologist, Burdach, from whose chapter on presentiment in his work +“Bhicke in’s Leben” a great part of my most striking examples is taken. +This presentiment of deaths, which is the exception among men, is quite +common with animals, even though they do not know nor understand what +death is. When they become aware that their end is approaching, they +steal away to outlying and solitary places. This is why in cities we so +rarely see the dead body or skeleton of a cat. We can only suppose that +the unconscious clairvoyance, which is of essentially the same kind +whether in man or beast, calls forth presentiments of different degrees +of definiteness, so that the cat is driven to withdraw herself through a +mere instinct without knowing why she does so, while in man a definite +perception is awakened of the fact that he is about to die. Not only do +people have presentiments concerning their own death, but there are many +instances on record in which they have become aware of that of those near +and dear to them, the dying person having appeared in a dream to friend +or wife or husband. Stories to this effect prevail among all nations, +and unquestionably contain much truth. Closely connected with this is +the power of second sight, which existed formerly in Scotland, and still +does so in the Danish islands. This power enables certain people without +any ecstasy, but simply through their keener perception, to foresee +coming events, or to tell what is going on in foreign countries on +matters in which they are deeply interested, such as deaths, battles, +conflagrations (Swedenborg foretold the burning of Stockholm), the +arrival or the doings of friends who are at a distance. With many +persons this clairvoyance is confined to a knowledge of the death of +their acquaintances or fellow-townspeople. There have been a great many +instances of such death-prophetesses, and, what is most important, some +cases have been verified in courts of law. I may say, in passing, that +this power of second sight is found in persons who are in ecstatic +states, in the spontaneous or artificially induced somnambulism of the +higher kinds of waking dreams, as well as in lucid moments before death. +These prophetic glimpses, by which the clairvoyance of the unconscious +reveals itself to consciousness, {126} are commonly obscure because in +the brain they must assume a form perceptible by the senses, whereas the +unconscious idea can have nothing to do with any form of sensual +impression: it is for this reason that humours, dreams, and the +hallucinations of sick persons can so easily have a false signification +attached to them. The chances of error and self-deception that arise +from this source, the ease with which people may be deceived +intentionally, and the mischief which, as a general rule, attends a +knowledge of the future, these considerations place beyond all doubt the +practical unwisdom of attempts to arrive at certainty concerning the +future. This, however, cannot affect the weight which in theory should +be attached to phenomena of this kind, and must not prevent us from +recognising the positive existence of the clairvoyance whose existence I +am maintaining, though it is often hidden under a chaos of madness and +imposture. + +The materialistic and rationalistic tendencies of the present day lead +most people either to deny facts of this kind _in toto_, or to ignore +them, inasmuch as they are inexplicable from a materialistic standpoint, +and cannot be established by the inductive or experimental method—as +though this last were not equally impossible in the case of morals, +social science, and politics. A mind of any candour will only be able to +deny the truths of this entire class of phenomena so long as it remains +in ignorance of the facts that have been related concerning them; but, +again, a continuance in this ignorance can only arise from unwillingness +to be convinced. I am satisfied that many of those who deny all human +power of divination would come to another, and, to say the least, more +cautious conclusion if they would be at the pains of further +investigation; and I hold that no one, even at the present day, need be +ashamed of joining in with an opinion which was maintained by all the +great spirits of antiquity except Epicurus—an opinion whose possible +truth hardly one of our best modern philosophers has ventured to +contravene, and which the champions of German enlightenment were so +little disposed to relegate to the domain of old wives’ tales, that +Goethe furnishes us with an example of second sight that fell within his +own experience, and confirms it down to its minutest details. + +Although I am far from believing that the kind of phenomena above +referred to form in themselves a proper foundation for a superstructure +of scientific demonstration, I nevertheless find them valuable as a +completion and further confirmation of the series of phenomena presented +to us by the clairvoyance which we observe in human and animal instinct. +Even though they only continue this series {128} through the echo that is +awakened within our consciousness, they as powerfully support the account +which instinctive actions give concerning their own nature, as they are +themselves supported by the analogy they present to the clairvoyance +observable in instinct. This, then, as well as my desire not to lose an +opportunity of protesting against a modern prejudice, must stand as my +reason for having allowed myself to refer, in a scientific work, to a +class of phenomena which has fallen at present into so much discredit. + +I will conclude with a few words upon a special kind of instinct which +has a very instructive bearing upon the subject generally, and shows how +impossible it is to evade the supposition of an unconscious clairvoyance +on the part of instinct. In the examples adduced hitherto, the action of +each individual has been done on the individual’s own behalf, except in +the case of instincts connected with the continuation of the species, +where the action benefits others—that is to say, the offspring of the +creature performing it. + +We must now examine the cases in which a solidarity of instinct is found +to exist between several individuals, so that, on the one hand, the +action of each redounds to the common welfare, and, on the other, it +becomes possible for a useful purpose to be achieved through the +harmonious association of individual workers. This community of instinct +exists also among the higher animals, but here it is harder to +distinguish from associations originating through conscious will, +inasmuch as speech supplies the means of a more perfect +intercommunication of aim and plan. We shall, however, definitely +recognise {129} this general effect of a universal instinct in the origin +of speech and in the great political and social movements in the history +of the world. Here we are concerned only with the simplest and most +definite examples that can be found anywhere, and therefore we will deal +in preference with the lower animals, among which, in the absence of +voice, the means of communicating thought, mimicry, and physiognomy, are +so imperfect that the harmony and interconnection of the individual +actions cannot in its main points be ascribed to an understanding arrived +at through speech. Huber observed that when a new comb was being +constructed a number of the largest working-bees, that were full of +honey, took no part in the ordinary business of the others, but remained +perfectly aloof. Twenty-four hours afterwards small plates of wax had +formed under their bellies. The bee drew these off with her hind-feet, +masticated them, and made them into a band. The small plates of wax thus +prepared were then glued to the roof of the hive one on the top of the +other. When one of the bees of this kind had used up her plates of wax, +another followed her and carried the same work forward in the same way. +A thin rough vertical wall, half a line in thickness and fastened to the +sides of the hive, was thus constructed. On this, one of the smaller +working-bees whose belly was empty came, and after surveying the wall, +made a flat half-oval excavation in the middle of one of its sides; she +piled up the wax thus excavated round the edge of the excavation. After +a short time she was relieved by another like herself, till more than +twenty followed one another in this way. Meanwhile another bee began to +make a similar hollow on the other side of the wall, but corresponding +only with the rim of the excavation on this side. Presently another bee +began a second hollow upon the same side, each bee being continually +relieved by others. Other bees kept coming up and bringing under their +bellies plates of wax, with which they heightened the edge of the small +wall of wax. In this, new bees were constantly excavating the ground for +more cells, while others proceeded by degrees to bring those already +begun into a perfectly symmetrical shape, and at the same time continued +building up the prismatic walls between them. Thus the bees worked on +opposite sides of the wall of wax, always on the same plan and in the +closest correspondence with those upon the other side, until eventually +the cells on both sides were completed in all their wonderful regularity +and harmony of arrangement, not merely as regards those standing side by +side, but also as regards those which were upon the other side of their +pyramidal base. + +Let the reader consider how animals that are accustomed to confer +together, by speech or otherwise, concerning designs which they may be +pursuing in common, will wrangle with thousandfold diversity of opinion; +let him reflect how often something has to be undone, destroyed, and done +over again; how at one time too many hands come forward, and at another +too few; what running to and fro there is before each has found his right +place; how often too many, and again too few, present themselves for a +relief gang; and how we find all this in the concerted works of men, who +stand so far higher than bees in the scale of organisation. We see +nothing of the kind among bees. A survey of their operations leaves +rather the impression upon us as though an invisible master-builder had +prearranged a scheme of action for the entire community, and had +impressed it upon each individual member, as though each class of workers +had learnt their appointed work by heart, knew their places and the +numbers in which they should relieve each other, and were informed +instantaneously by a secret signal of the moment when their action was +wanted. This, however, is exactly the manner in which an instinct works; +and as the intention of the entire community is instinctively present in +the unconscious clairvoyance {131a} of each individual bee, so the +possession of this common instinct impels each one of them to the +discharge of her special duties when the right moment has arrived. It is +only thus that the wonderful tranquillity and order which we observe +could be attained. What we are to think concerning this common instinct +must be reserved for explanation later on, but the possibility of its +existence is already evident, inasmuch {131b} as each individual has an +unconscious insight concerning the plan proposed to itself by the +community, and also concerning the means immediately to be adopted +through concerted action—of which, however, only the part requiring his +own co-operation is present in the consciousness of each. Thus, for +example, the larva of the bee itself spins the silky chamber in which it +is to become a chrysalis, but other bees must close it with its lid of +wax. The purpose of there being a chamber in which the larva can become +a chrysalis must be present in the minds of each of these two parties to +the transaction, but neither of them acts under the influence of +conscious will, except in regard to his own particular department. I +have already mentioned the fact that the larva, after its metamorphosis, +must be freed from its cell by other bees, and have told how the +working-bees in autumn kill the drones, so that they may not have to feed +a number of useless mouths throughout the winter, and how they only spare +them when they are wanted in order to fecundate a new queen. +Furthermore, the working-bees build cells in which the eggs laid by the +queen may come to maturity, and, as a general rule, make just as many +chambers as the queen lays eggs; they make these, moreover, in the same +order as that in which the queen lays her eggs, namely, first for the +working-bees, then for the drones, and lastly for the queens. In the +polity of the bees, the working and the sexual capacities, which were +once united, are now personified in three distinct kinds of individual, +and these combine with an inner, unconscious, spiritual union, so as to +form a single body politic, as the organs of a living body combine to +form the body itself. + +In this chapter, therefore, we have arrived at the following +conclusions:— + +Instinct is not the result of conscious deliberation; {132} it is not a +consequence of bodily organisation; it is not a mere result of a +mechanism which lies in the organisation of the brain; it is not the +operation of dead mechanism, glued on, as it were, to the soul, and +foreign to its inmost essence; but it is the spontaneous action of the +individual, springing from his most essential nature and character. The +purpose to which any particular kind of instinctive action is subservient +is not the purpose of a soul standing outside the individual and near +akin to Providence—a purpose once for all thought out, and now become a +matter of necessity to the individual, so that he can act in no other +way, though it is engrafted into his nature from without, and not natural +to it. The purpose of the instinct is in each individual case thought +out and willed unconsciously by the individual, and afterwards the choice +of means adapted to each particular case is arrived at unconsciously. A +knowledge of the purpose is often absolutely unattainable {133} by +conscious knowledge through sensual perception. Then does the +peculiarity of the unconscious display itself in the clairvoyance of +which consciousness perceives partly only a faint and dull, and partly, +as in the case of man, a more or less definite echo by way of sentiment, +whereas the instinctive action itself—the carrying out of the means +necessary for the achievement of the unconscious purpose—falls always +more clearly within consciousness, inasmuch as due performance of what is +necessary would be otherwise impossible. Finally, the clairvoyance makes +itself perceived in the concerted action of several individuals combining +to carry out a common but unconscious purpose. + +Up to this point we have encountered clairvoyance as a fact which we +observe but cannot explain, and the reader may say that he prefers to +take his stand here, and be content with regarding instinct simply as a +matter of fact, the explanation of which is at present beyond our reach. +Against this it must be urged, firstly, that clairvoyance is not confined +to instinct, but is found also in man; secondly, that clairvoyance is by +no means present in all instincts, and that therefore our experience +shows us clairvoyance and instinct as two distinct things—clairvoyance +being of great use in explaining instinct, but instinct serving nothing +to explain clairvoyance; thirdly and lastly, that the clairvoyance of the +individual will not continue to be so incomprehensible to us, but will be +perfectly well explained in the further course of our investigation, +while we must give up all hope of explaining instinct in any other way. + +The conception we have thus arrived at enables us to regard instinct as +the innermost kernel, so to speak, of every living being. That this is +actually the case is shown by the instincts of self-preservation and of +the continuation of the species which we observe throughout creation, and +by the heroic self-abandonment with which the individual will sacrifice +welfare, and even life, at the bidding of instinct. We see this when we +think of the caterpillar, and how she repairs her cocoon until she yields +to exhaustion; of the bird, and how she will lay herself to death; of the +disquiet and grief displayed by all migratory animals if they are +prevented from migrating. A captive cuckoo will always die at the +approach of winter through despair at being unable to fly away; so will +the vineyard snail if it is hindered of its winter sleep. The weakest +mother will encounter an enemy far surpassing her in strength, and suffer +death cheerfully for her offspring’s sake. Every year we see fresh cases +of people who have been unfortunate going mad or committing suicide. +Women who have survived the Cæsarian operation allow themselves so little +to be deterred from further childbearing through fear of this frightful +and generally fatal operation, that they will undergo it no less than +three times. Can we suppose that what so closely resembles demoniacal +possession can have come about through something engrafted on to the soul +as a mechanism foreign to its inner nature, {135} or through conscious +deliberation which adheres always to a bare egoism, and is utterly +incapable of such self-sacrifice for the sake of offspring as is +displayed by the procreative and maternal instincts? + +We have now, finally, to consider how it arises that the instincts of any +animal species are so similar within the limits of that species—a +circumstance which has not a little contributed to the +engrafted-mechanism theory. But it is plain that like causes will be +followed by like effects; and this should afford sufficient explanation. +The bodily mechanism, for example, of all the individuals of a species is +alike; so again are their capabilities and the outcomes of their +conscious intelligence—though this, indeed, is not the case with man, nor +in some measure even with the highest animals; and it is through this +want of uniformity that there is such a thing as individuality. The +external conditions of all the individuals of a species are also +tolerably similar, and when they differ essentially, the instincts are +likewise different—a fact in support of which no examples are necessary. +From like conditions of mind and body (and this includes like +predispositions of brain and ganglia) and like exterior circumstances, +like desires will follow as a necessary logical consequence. Again, from +like desires and like inward and outward circumstances, a like choice of +means—that is to say, like instincts—must ensue. These last two steps +would not be conceded without restriction if the question were one +involving conscious deliberation, but as these logical consequences are +supposed to follow from the unconscious, which takes the right step +unfailingly without vacillation or delay so long as the premises are +similar, the ensuing desires and the instincts to adopt the means for +their gratification will be similar also. + +Thus the view which we have taken concerning instinct explains the very +last point which it may be thought worth while to bring forward in +support of the opinions of our opponents. + +I will conclude this chapter with the words of Schelling: “Thoughtful +minds will hold the phenomena of animal instinct to belong to the most +important of all phenomena, and to be the true touchstone of a durable +philosophy.” + + + + +Chapter IX + + +Remarks upon Von Hartmann’s position in regard to instinct. + +UNCERTAIN how far the foregoing chapter is not better left without +comment of any kind, I nevertheless think that some of my readers may be +helped by the following extracts from the notes I took while translating. +I will give them as they come, without throwing them into connected form. + + * * * * * + +Von Hartmann defines instinct as action done with a purpose, but without +consciousness of purpose. + +The building of her nest by a bird is an instinctive action; it is done +with a purpose, but it is arbitrary to say that the bird has no knowledge +of that purpose. Some hold that birds when they are building their nest +know as well that they mean to bring up a family in it as a young married +couple do when they build themselves a house. This is the conclusion +which would be come to by a plain person on a _primâ facie_ view of the +facts, and Von Hartmann shows no reason for modifying it. + +A better definition of instinct would be that it is inherited knowledge +in respect of certain facts, and of the most suitable manner in which to +deal with them. + + * * * * * + +Von Hartmann speaks of “a mechanism of brain or mind” contrived by +nature, and again of “a psychical organisation,” as though it were +something distinct from a physical organisation. + +We can conceive of such a thing as mechanism of brain, for we have seen +brain and handled it; but until we have seen a mind and handled it, or at +any rate been enabled to draw inferences which will warrant us in +conceiving of it as a material substance apart from bodily substance, we +cannot infer that it has an organisation apart from bodily organisation. +Does Von Hartmann mean that we have two bodies—a body-body, and a +soul-body? + + * * * * * + +He says that no one will call the action of the spider instinctive in +voiding the fluids from its glands when they are too full. Why not? + + * * * * * + +He is continually personifying instinct; thus he speaks of the “ends +proposed to itself by the instinct,” of “the blind unconscious purpose of +the instinct,” of “an unconscious purpose constraining the volition of +the bird,” of “each variation and modification of the instinct,” as +though instinct, purpose, and, later on, clairvoyance, were persons, and +not words characterising a certain class of actions. The ends are +proposed to itself by the animal, not by the instinct. Nothing but +mischief can come of a mode of expression which does not keep this +clearly in view. + + * * * * * + +It must not be supposed that the same cuckoo is in the habit of laying in +the nests of several different species, and of changing the colour of her +eggs according to that of the eggs of the bird in whose nest she lays. I +have inquired from Mr. R. Bowdler Sharpe of the ornithological department +at the British Museum, who kindly gives it me as his opinion that though +cuckoos do imitate the eggs of the species on whom they foist their young +ones, yet one cuckoo will probably lay in the nests of one species also, +and will stick to that species for life. If so, the same race of cuckoos +may impose upon the same species for generations together. The instinct +will even thus remain a very wonderful one, but it is not at all +inconsistent with the theory put forward by Professor Hering and myself. + + * * * * * + +Returning to the idea of psychical mechanism, he admits that “it is +itself so obscure that we can hardly form any idea concerning it,” {139a} +and then goes on to claim for it that it explains a great many other +things. This must have been the passage which Mr. Sully had in view when +he very justly wrote that Von Hartmann “dogmatically closes the field of +physical inquiry, and takes refuge in a phantom which explains +everything, simply because it is itself incapable of explanation.” + + * * * * * + +According to Von Hartmann {139b} the unpractised animal manifests its +instinct as perfectly as the practised. This is not the case. The young +animal exhibits marvellous proficiency, but it gains by experience. I +have watched sparrows, which I can hardly doubt to be young ones, spend a +whole month in trying to build their nest, and give it up in the end as +hopeless. I have watched three such cases this spring in a tree not +twenty feet from my own window and on a level with my eye, so that I have +been able to see what was going on at all hours of the day. In each case +the nest was made well and rapidly up to a certain point, and then got +top-heavy and tumbled over, so that little was left on the tree: it was +reconstructed and reconstructed over and over again, always with the same +result, till at last in all three cases the birds gave up in despair. I +believe the older and stronger birds secure the fixed and best sites, +driving the younger birds to the trees, and that the art of building +nests in trees is dying out among house-sparrows. + + * * * * * + +He declares that instinct is not due to organisation so much as +organisation to instinct. {140} The fact is, that neither can claim +precedence of or pre-eminence over the other. Instinct and organisation +are only mind and body, or mind and matter; and these are not two +separable things, but one and inseparable, with, as it were, two sides; +the one of which is a function of the other. There was never yet either +matter without mind, however low, nor mind, however high, without a +material body of some sort; there can be no change in one without a +corresponding change in the other; neither came before the other; neither +can either cease to change or cease to be; for “to be” is to continue +changing, so that “to be” and “to change” are one. + + * * * * * + +Whence, he asks, comes the desire to gratify an instinct before +experience of the pleasure that will ensue on gratification? This is a +pertinent question, but it is met by Professor Hering with the answer +that this is due to memory—to the continuation in the germ of vibrations +that were vibrating in the body of the parent, and which, when stimulated +by vibrations of a suitable rhythm, become more and more powerful till +they suffice to set the body in visible action. For my own part I only +venture to maintain that it is due to memory, that is to say, to an +enduring sense on the part of the germ of the action it took when in the +persons of its ancestors, and of the gratification which ensued thereon. +This meets Von Hartmann’s whole difficulty. + + * * * * * + +The glacier is not snow. It is snow packed tight into a small compass, +and has thus lost all trace of its original form. How incomplete, +however, would be any theory of glacial action which left out of sight +the origin of the glacier in snow! Von Hartmann loses sight of the +origin of instinctive in deliberative actions because the two classes of +action are now in many respects different. His philosophy of the +unconscious fails to consider what is the normal process by means of +which such common actions as we can watch, and whose history we can +follow, have come to be done unconsciously. + + * * * * * + +He says, {141} “How inconceivable is the supposition of a mechanism, &c., +&c.; how clear and simple, on the other hand, is the view that there is +an unconscious purpose constraining the volition of the bird to the use +of the fitting means.” Does he mean that there is an actual thing—an +unconscious purpose—something outside the bird, as it were a man, which +lays hold of the bird and makes it do this or that, as a master makes a +servant do his bidding? If so, he again personifies the purpose itself, +and must therefore embody it, or be talking in a manner which plain +people cannot understand. If, on the other hand, he means “how simple is +the view that the bird acts unconsciously,” this is not more simple than +supposing it to act consciously; and what ground has he for supposing +that the bird is unconscious? It is as simple, and as much in accordance +with the facts, to suppose that the bird feels the air to be colder, and +knows that she must warm her eggs if she is to hatch them, as consciously +as a mother knows that she must not expose her new-born infant to the +cold. + + * * * * * + +On page 99 of this book we find Von Hartmann saying that if it is once +granted that the normal and abnormal manifestations of instinct spring +from a single source, then the objection that the modification is due to +conscious knowledge will be found to be a suicidal one later on, in so +far as it is directed against instinct generally. I understand him to +mean that if we admit instinctive action, and the modifications of that +action which more nearly resemble results of reason, to be actions of the +same ultimate kind differing in degree only, and if we thus attempt to +reduce instinctive action to the prophetic strain arising from old +experience, we shall be obliged to admit that the formation of the embryo +is ultimately due to reflection—which he seems to think is a _reductio ad +absurdum_ of the argument. + +Therefore, he concludes, if there is to be only one source, the source +must be unconscious, and not conscious. We reply, that we do not see the +absurdity of the position which we grant we have been driven to. We hold +that the formation of the embryo _is_ ultimately due to reflection and +design. + + * * * * * + +The writer of an article in the _Times_, April 1, 1880, says that +servants must be taught their calling before they can practise it; but, +in fact, they can only be taught their calling by practising it. So Von +Hartmann says animals must feel the pleasure consequent on gratification +of an instinct before they can be stimulated to act upon the instinct by +a knowledge of the pleasure that will ensue. This sounds logical, but in +practice a little performance and a little teaching—a little sense of +pleasure and a little connection of that pleasure with this or that +practice,—come up simultaneously from something that we cannot see, the +two being so small and so much abreast, that we do not know which is +first, performance or teaching; and, again, action, or pleasure supposed +as coming from the action. + + * * * * * + +“Geistes-mechanismus” comes as near to “disposition of mind,” or, more +shortly, “disposition,” as so unsatisfactory a word can come to anything. +Yet, if we translate it throughout by “disposition,” we shall see how +little we are being told. + +We find on page 114 that “all instinctive actions give us an impression +of absolute security and infallibility”; that “the will is never weak or +hesitating, as it is when inferences are being drawn consciously.” “We +never,” Von Hartmann continues, “find instinct making mistakes.” Passing +over the fact that instinct is again personified, the statement is still +incorrect. Instinctive actions are certainly, as a general rule, +performed with less uncertainty than deliberative ones; this is +explicable by the fact that they have been more often practised, and thus +reduced more completely to a matter of routine; but nothing is more +certain than that animals acting under the guidance of inherited +experience or instinct frequently make mistakes which with further +practice they correct. Von Hartmann has abundantly admitted that the +manner of an instinctive action is often varied in correspondence with +variation in external circumstances. It is impossible to see how this +does not involve both possibility of error and the connection of instinct +with deliberation at one and the same time. The fact is simply this—when +an animal finds itself in a like position with that in which it has +already often done a certain thing in the persons of its forefathers, it +will do this thing well and easily: when it finds the position somewhat, +but not unrecognisably, altered through change either in its own person +or in the circumstances exterior to it, it will vary its action with +greater or less ease according to the nature of the change in the +position: when the position is gravely altered the animal either bungles +or is completely thwarted. + + * * * * * + +Not only does Von Hartmann suppose that instinct may, and does, involve +knowledge antecedent to, and independent of, experience—an idea as +contrary to the tendency of modern thought as that of spontaneous +generation, with which indeed it is identical though presented in another +shape—but he implies by his frequent use of the word “unmittelbar” that a +result can come about without any cause whatever. So he says, “Um für +die unbewusster Erkenntniss, welche nicht durch sinnliche Wahrnehmung +erworben, _sondern als unmittelbar Besitz_,” &c. {144a} Because he does +not see where the experience can have been gained, he cuts the knot, and +denies that there has been experience. We say, Look more attentively and +you will discover the time and manner in which the experience was gained. + + * * * * * + +Again, he continually assumes that animals low down in the scale of life +cannot know their own business because they show no sign of knowing ours. +See his remarks on _Saturnia pavonia minor_ (page 107), and elsewhere on +cattle and gadflies. The question is not what can they know, but what +does their action prove to us that they do know. With each species of +animal or plant there is one profession only, and it is hereditary. With +us there are many professions, and they are not hereditary; so that they +cannot become instinctive, as they would otherwise tend to do. + + * * * * * + +He attempts {144b} to draw a distinction between the causes that have +produced the weapons and working instruments of animals, on the one hand, +and those that lead to the formation of hexagonal cells by bees, &c., on +the other. No such distinction can be justly drawn. + + * * * * * + +The ghost-stories which Von Hartmann accepts will hardly be accepted by +people of sound judgment. There is one well-marked distinctive feature +between the knowledge manifested by animals when acting instinctively and +the supposed knowledge of seers and clairvoyants. In the first case, the +animal never exhibits knowledge except upon matters concerning which its +race has been conversant for generations; in the second, the seer is +supposed to do so. In the first case, a new feature is invariably +attended with disturbance of the performance and the awakening of +consciousness and deliberation, unless the new matter is too small in +proportion to the remaining features of the case to attract attention, or +unless, though really new, it appears so similar to an old feature as to +be at first mistaken for it; with the second, it is not even professed +that the seer’s ancestors have had long experience upon the matter +concerning which the seer is supposed to have special insight, and I can +imagine no more powerful _à priori_ argument against a belief in such +stories. + + * * * * * + +Close upon the end of his chapter Von Hartmann touches upon the one +matter which requires consideration. He refers the similarity of +instinct that is observable among all species to the fact that like +causes produce like effects; and I gather, though he does not expressly +say so, that he considers similarity of instinct in successive +generations to be referable to the same cause as similarity of instinct +between all the contemporary members of a species. He thus raises the +one objection against referring the phenomena of heredity to memory which +I think need be gone into with any fulness. I will, however, reserve +this matter for my concluding chapters. + +Von Hartmann concludes his chapter with a quotation from Schelling, to +the effect that the phenomena of animal instinct are the true touchstone +of a durable philosophy; by which I suppose it is intended to say that if +a system or theory deals satisfactorily with animal instinct, it will +stand, but not otherwise. I can wish nothing better than that the +philosophy of the unconscious advanced by Von Hartmann be tested by this +standard. + + + + +Chapter X + + +Recapitulation and statement of an objection. + +THE true theory of unconscious action, then, is that of Professor Hering, +from whose lecture it is no strained conclusion to gather that he holds +the action of all living beings, from the moment of their conception to +that of their fullest development, to be founded in volition and design, +though these have been so long lost sight of that the work is now carried +on, as it were, departmentally and in due course according to an official +routine which can hardly now be departed from. + +This involves the older “Darwinism” and the theory of Lamarck, according +to which the modification of living forms has been effected mainly +through the needs of the living forms themselves, which vary with varying +conditions, the survival of the fittest (which, as I see Mr. H. B. +Baildon has just said, “sometimes comes to mean merely the survival of +the survivors” {146}) being taken almost as a matter of course. +According to this view of evolution, there is a remarkable analogy +between the development of living organs or tools and that of those +organs or tools external to the body which has been so rapid during the +last few thousand years. + +Animals and plants, according to Professor Hering, are guided throughout +their development, and preserve the due order in each step which they +take, through memory of the course they took on past occasions when in +the persons of their ancestors. I am afraid I have already too often +said that if this memory remains for long periods together latent and +without effect, it is because the undulations of the molecular substance +of the body which are its supposed explanation are during these periods +too feeble to generate action, until they are augmented in force through +an accession of suitable undulations issuing from exterior objects; or, +in other words, until recollection is stimulated by a return of the +associated ideas. On this the eternal agitation becomes so much +enhanced, that equilibrium is visibly disturbed, and the action ensues +which is proper to the vibration of the particular substance under the +particular conditions. This, at least, is what I suppose Professor +Hering to intend. + +Leaving the explanation of memory on one side, and confining ourselves to +the fact of memory only, a caterpillar on being just hatched is supposed, +according to this theory, to lose its memory of the time it was in the +egg, and to be stimulated by an intense but unconscious recollection of +the action taken by its ancestors when they were first hatched. It is +guided in the course it takes by the experience it can thus command. +Each step it takes recalls a new recollection, and thus it goes through +its development as a performer performs a piece of music, each bar +leading his recollection to the bar that should next follow. + +In “Life and Habit” will be found examples of the manner in which this +view solves a number of difficulties for the explanation of which the +leading men of science express themselves at a loss. The following from +Professor Huxley’s recent work upon the crayfish may serve for an +example. Professor Huxley writes:— + + “It is a widely received notion that the energies of living matter + have a tendency to decline and finally disappear, and that the death + of the body as a whole is a necessary correlate of its life. That + all living beings sooner or later perish needs no demonstration, but + it would be difficult to find satisfactory grounds for the belief + that they needs must do so. The analogy of a machine, that sooner or + later must be brought to a standstill by the wear and tear of its + parts, does not hold, inasmuch as the animal mechanism is continually + renewed and repaired; and though it is true that individual + components of the body are constantly dying, yet their places are + taken by vigorous successors. A city remains notwithstanding the + constant death-rate of its inhabitants; and such an organism as a + crayfish is only a corporate unity, made up of innumerable partially + independent individualities.”—_The Crayfish_, p. 127. + +Surely the theory which I have indicated above makes the reason plain why +no organism can permanently outlive its experience of past lives. The +death of such a body corporate as the crayfish is due to the social +condition becoming more complex than there is memory of past experience +to deal with. Hence social disruption, insubordination, and decay. The +crayfish dies as a state dies, and all states that we have heard of die +sooner or later. There are some savages who have not yet arrived at the +conception that death is the necessary end of all living beings, and who +consider even the gentlest death from old age as violent and abnormal; so +Professor Huxley seems to find a difficulty in seeing that though a city +commonly outlives many generations of its citizens, yet cities and states +are in the end no less mortal than individuals. “The city,” he says, +“remains.” Yes, but not for ever. When Professor Huxley can find a city +that will last for ever, he may wonder that a crayfish does not last for +ever. + +I have already here and elsewhere said all that I can yet bring forward +in support of Professor Hering’s theory; it now remains for me to meet +the most troublesome objection to it that I have been able to think of—an +objection which I had before me when I wrote “Life and Habit,” but which +then as now I believe to be unsound. Seeing, however, as I have pointed +out at the end of the preceding chapter, that Von Hartmann has touched +upon it, and being aware that a plausible case can be made out for it, I +will state it and refute it here. When I say refute it, I do not mean +that I shall have done with it—for it is plain that it opens up a vaster +question in the relations between the so-called organic and inorganic +worlds—but that I will refute the supposition that it any way militates +against Professor Hering’s theory. + +Why, it may be asked, should we go out of our way to invent unconscious +memory—the existence of which must at the best remain an inference +{149}—when the observed fact that like antecedents are invariably +followed by like consequents should be sufficient for our purpose? Why +should the fact that a given kind of chrysalis in a given condition will +always become a butterfly within a certain time be connected with memory, +when it is not pretended that memory has anything to do with the +invariableness with which oxygen and hydrogen when mixed in certain +proportions make water? + +We assume confidently that if a drop of water were decomposed into its +component parts, and if these were brought together again, and again +decomposed and again brought together any number of times over, the +results would be invariably the same, whether decomposition or +combination, yet no one will refer the invariableness of the action +during each repetition, to recollection by the gaseous molecules of the +course taken when the process was last repeated. On the contrary, we are +assured that molecules in some distant part of the world, which had never +entered into such and such a known combination themselves, nor held +concert with other molecules that had been so combined, and which, +therefore, could have had no experience and no memory, would none the +less act upon one another in that one way in which other like +combinations of atoms have acted under like circumstances, as readily as +though they had been combined and separated and recombined again a +hundred or a hundred thousand times. It is this assumption, tacitly made +by every man, beast, and plant in the universe, throughout all time and +in every action of their lives, that has made any action possible, lying, +as it does, at the root of all experience. + +As we admit of no doubt concerning the main result, so we do not suppose +an alternative to lie before any atom of any molecule at any moment +during the process of their combination. This process is, in all +probability, an exceedingly complicated one, involving a multitude of +actions and subordinate processes, which follow one upon the other, and +each one of which has a beginning, a middle, and an end, though they all +come to pass in what appears to be an instant of time. Yet at no point +do we conceive of any atom as swerving ever such a little to right or +left of a determined course, but invest each one of them with so much of +the divine attributes as that with it there shall be no variableness, +neither shadow of turning. + +We attribute this regularity of action to what we call the necessity of +things, as determined by the nature of the atoms and the circumstances in +which they are placed. We say that only one proximate result can ever +arise from any given combination. If, then, so great uniformity of +action as nothing can exceed is manifested by atoms to which no one will +impute memory, why this desire for memory, as though it were the only way +of accounting for regularity of action in living beings? Sameness of +action may be seen abundantly where there is no room for anything that we +can consistently call memory. In these cases we say that it is due to +sameness of substance in same circumstances. + +The most cursory reflection upon our actions will show us that it is no +more possible for living action to have more than one set of proximate +consequents at any given time than for oxygen and hydrogen when mixed in +the proportions proper for the formation of water. Why, then, not +recognise this fact, and ascribe repeated similarity of living action to +the reproduction of the necessary antecedents, with no more sense of +connection between the steps in the action, or memory of similar action +taken before, than we suppose on the part of oxygen and hydrogen +molecules between the several occasions on which they may have been +disunited and reunited? + +A boy catches the measles not because he remembers having caught them in +the persons of his father and mother, but because he is a fit soil for a +certain kind of seed to grow upon. In like manner he should be said to +grow his nose because he is a fit combination for a nose to spring from. +Dr. X—’s father died of _angina pectoris_ at the age of forty-nine; so +did Dr. X—. Can it be pretended that Dr. X— remembered having died of +_angina pectoris_ at the age of forty-nine when in the person of his +father, and accordingly, when he came to be forty-nine years old himself, +died also? For this to hold, Dr. X—’s father must have begotten him +after he was dead; for the son could not remember the father’s death +before it happened. + +As for the diseases of old age, so very commonly inherited, they are +developed for the most part not only long after the average age of +reproduction, but at a time when no appreciable amount of memory of any +previous existence can remain; for a man will not have many male +ancestors who become parents at over sixty years old, nor female +ancestors who did so at over forty. By our own showing, therefore, +recollection can have nothing to do with the matter. Yet who can doubt +that gout is due to inheritance as much as eyes and noses? In what +respects do the two things differ so that we should refer the inheritance +of eyes and noses to memory, while denying any connection between memory +and gout? We may have a ghost of a pretence for saying that a man grew a +nose by rote, or even that he catches the measles or whooping-cough by +rote during his boyhood; but do we mean to say that he develops the gout +by rote in his old age if he comes of a gouty family? If, then, rote and +red-tape have nothing to do with the one, why should they with the other? + +Remember also the cases in which aged females develop male +characteristics. Here are growths, often of not inconsiderable extent, +which make their appearance during the decay of the body, and grow with +greater and greater vigour in the extreme of old age, and even for days +after death itself. It can hardly be doubted that an especial tendency +to develop these characteristics runs as an inheritance in certain +families; here then is perhaps the best case that can be found of a +development strictly inherited, but having clearly nothing whatever to do +with memory. Why should not all development stand upon the same footing? + +A friend who had been arguing with me for some time as above, concluded +with the following words:— + + “If you cannot be content with the similar action of similar + substances (living or non-living) under similar circumstances—if you + cannot accept this as an ultimate fact, but consider it necessary to + connect repetition of similar action with memory before you can rest + in it and be thankful—be consistent, and introduce this memory which + you find so necessary into the inorganic world also. Either say that + a chrysalis becomes a butterfly because it is the thing that it is, + and, being that kind of thing, must act in such and such a manner and + in such a manner only, so that the act of one generation has no more + to do with the act of the next than the fact of cream being churned + into butter in a dairy one day has to do with other cream being + churnable into butter in the following week—either say this, or else + develop some mental condition—which I have no doubt you will be very + well able to do if you feel the want of it—in which you can make out + a case for saying that oxygen and hydrogen on being brought together, + and cream on being churned, are in some way acquainted with, and + mindful of, action taken by other cream and other oxygen and hydrogen + on past occasions.” + +I felt inclined to reply that my friend need not twit me with being able +to develop a mental organism if I felt the need of it, for his own +ingenious attack on my position, and indeed every action of his life was +but an example of this omnipresent principle. + +When he was gone, however, I thought over what he had been saying. I +endeavoured to see how far I could get on without volition and memory, +and reasoned as follows:—A repetition of like antecedents will be +certainly followed by a repetition of like consequents, whether the +agents be men and women or chemical substances. “If there be two cowards +perfectly similar in every respect, and if they be subjected in a +perfectly similar way to two terrifying agents, which are themselves +perfectly similar, there are few who will not expect a perfect similarity +in the running away, even though ten thousand years intervene between the +original combination and its repetition.” {153} Here certainly there is +no coming into play of memory, more than in the pan of cream on two +successive churning days, yet the action is similar. + +A clerk in an office has an hour in the middle of the day for dinner. +About half-past twelve he begins to feel hungry; at once he takes down +his hat and leaves the office. He does not yet know the neighbourhood, +and on getting down into the street asks a policeman at the corner which +is the best eating-house within easy distance. The policeman tells him +of three houses, one of which is a little farther off than the other two, +but is cheaper. Money being a greater object to him than time, the clerk +decides on going to the cheaper house. He goes, is satisfied, and +returns. + +Next day he wants his dinner at the same hour, and—it will be +said—remembering his satisfaction of yesterday, will go to the same place +as before. But what has his memory to do with it? Suppose him to have +entirely forgotten all the circumstances of the preceding day from the +moment of his beginning to feel hungry onward, though in other respects +sound in mind and body, and unchanged generally. At half-past twelve he +would begin to be hungry; but his beginning to be hungry cannot be +connected with his remembering having begun to be hungry yesterday. He +would begin to be hungry just as much whether he remembered or no. At +one o’clock he again takes down his hat and leaves the office, not +because he remembers having done so yesterday, but because he wants his +hat to go out with. Being again in the street, and again ignorant of the +neighbourhood (for he remembers nothing of yesterday), he sees the same +policeman at the corner of the street, and asks him the same question as +before; the policeman gives him the same answer, and money being still an +object to him, the cheapest eating-house is again selected; he goes +there, finds the same _menu_, makes the same choice for the same reasons, +eats, is satisfied, and returns. + +What similarity of action can be greater than this, and at the same time +more incontrovertible? But it has nothing to do with memory; on the +contrary, it is just because the clerk has no memory that his action of +the second day so exactly resembles that of the first. As long as he has +no power of recollecting, he will day after day repeat the same actions +in exactly the same way, until some external circumstances, such as his +being sent away, modify the situation. Till this or some other +modification occurs, he will day after day go down into the street +without knowing where to go; day after day he will see the same policeman +at the corner of the same street, and (for we may as well suppose that +the policeman has no memory too) he will ask and be answered, and ask and +be answered, till he and the policeman die of old age. This similarity +of action is plainly due to that—whatever it is—which ensures that like +persons or things when placed in like circumstances shall behave in like +manner. + +Allow the clerk ever such a little memory, and the similarity of action +will disappear; for the fact of remembering what happened to him on the +first day he went out in search of dinner will be a modification in him +in regard to his then condition when he next goes out to get his dinner. +He had no such memory on the first day, and he has upon the second. Some +modification of action must ensue upon this modification of the actor, +and this is immediately observable. He wants his dinner, indeed, goes +down into the street, and sees the policeman as yesterday, but he does +not ask the policeman; he remembers what the policeman told him and what +he did, and therefore goes straight to the eating-house without wasting +time: nor does he dine off the same dish two days running, for he +remembers what he had yesterday and likes variety. If, then, similarity +of action is rather hindered than promoted by memory, why introduce it +into such cases as the repetition of the embryonic processes by +successive generations? The embryos of a well-fixed breed, such as the +goose, are almost as much alike as water is to water, and by consequence +one goose comes to be almost as like another as water to water. Why +should it not be supposed to become so upon the same grounds—namely, that +it is made of the same stuffs, and put together in like proportions in +the same manner? + + + + +Chapter XI + + +On Cycles. + +THE one faith on which all normal living beings consciously or +unconsciously act, is that like antecedents will be followed by like +consequents. This is the one true and catholic faith, undemonstrable, +but except a living being believe which, without doubt it shall perish +everlastingly. In the assurance of this all action is taken. + +But if this fundamental article is admitted, and it cannot be gainsaid, +it follows that if ever a complete cycle were formed, so that the whole +universe of one instant were to repeat itself absolutely in a subsequent +one, no matter after what interval of time, then the course of the events +between these two moments would go on repeating itself for ever and ever +afterwards in due order, down to the minutest detail, in an endless +series of cycles like a circulating decimal. For the universe comprises +everything; there could therefore be no disturbance from without. Once a +cycle, always a cycle. + +Let us suppose the earth, of given weight, moving with given momentum in +a given path, and under given conditions in every respect, to find itself +at any one time conditioned in all these respects as it was conditioned +at some past moment; then it must move exactly in the same path as the +one it took when at the beginning of the cycle it has just completed, and +must therefore in the course of time fulfil a second cycle, and therefore +a third, and so on for ever and ever, with no more chance of escape than +a circulating decimal has, if the circumstances have been reproduced with +perfect accuracy. + +We see something very like this actually happen in the yearly revolutions +of the planets round the sun. But the relations between, we will say, +the earth and the sun are not reproduced absolutely. These relations +deal only with a small part of the universe, and even in this small part +the relation of the parts _inter se_ has never yet been reproduced with +the perfection of accuracy necessary for our argument. They are liable, +moreover, to disturbance from events which may or may not actually occur +(as, for example, our being struck by a comet, or the sun’s coming within +a certain distance of another sun), but of which, if they do occur, no +one can foresee the effects. Nevertheless the conditions have been so +nearly repeated that there is no appreciable difference in the relations +between the earth and sun on one New Year’s Day and on another, nor is +there reason for expecting such change within any reasonable time. + +If there is to be an eternal series of cycles involving the whole +universe, it is plain that not one single atom must be excluded. Exclude +a single molecule of hydrogen from the ring, or vary the relative +positions of two molecules only, and the charm is broken; an element of +disturbance has been introduced, of which the utmost that can be said is +that it may not prevent the ensuing of a long series of very nearly +perfect cycles before similarity in recurrence is destroyed, but which +must inevitably prevent absolute identity of repetition. The movement of +the series becomes no longer a cycle, but spiral, and convergent or +divergent at a greater or less rate according to circumstances. We +cannot conceive of all the atoms in the universe standing twice over in +absolutely the same relation each one of them to every other. There are +too many of them and they are too much mixed; but, as has been just said, +in the planets and their satellites we do see large groups of atoms whose +movements recur with some approach to precision. The same holds good +also with certain comets and with the sun himself. The result is that +our days and nights and seasons follow one another with nearly perfect +regularity from year to year, and have done so for as long time as we +know anything for certain. A vast preponderance of all the action that +takes place around us is cycular action. + +Within the great cycle of the planetary revolution of our own earth, and +as a consequence thereof, we have the minor cycle of the phenomena of the +seasons; these generate atmospheric cycles. Water is evaporated from the +ocean and conveyed to mountain ranges, where it is cooled, and whence it +returns again to the sea. This cycle of events is being repeated again +and again with little appreciable variation. The tides and winds in +certain latitudes go round and round the world with what amounts to +continuous regularity.—There are storms of wind and rain called cyclones. +In the case of these, the cycle is not very complete, the movement, +therefore, is spiral, and the tendency to recur is comparatively soon +lost. It is a common saying that history repeats itself, so that anarchy +will lead to despotism and despotism to anarchy; every nation can point +to instances of men’s minds having gone round and round so nearly in a +perfect cycle that many revolutions have occurred before the cessation of +a tendency to recur. Lastly, in the generation of plants and animals we +have, perhaps, the most striking and common example of the inevitable +tendency of all action to repeat itself when it has once proximately done +so. Let only one living being have once succeeded in producing a being +like itself, and thus have returned, so to speak, upon itself, and a +series of generations must follow of necessity, unless some matter +interfere which had no part in the original combination, and, as it may +happen, kill the first reproductive creature or all its descendants +within a few generations. If no such mishap occurs as this, and if the +recurrence of the conditions is sufficiently perfect, a series of +generations follows with as much certainty as a series of seasons follows +upon the cycle of the relations between the earth and sun. Let the first +periodically recurring substance—we will say A—be able to recur or +reproduce itself, not once only, but many times over, as A1, A2, &c.; let +A also have consciousness and a sense of self-interest, which qualities +must, _ex hypothesi_, be reproduced in each one of its offspring; let +these get placed in circumstances which differ sufficiently to destroy +the cycle in theory without doing so practically—that is to say, to +reduce the rotation to a spiral, but to a spiral with so little deviation +from perfect cycularity as for each revolution to appear practically a +cycle, though after many revolutions the deviation becomes perceptible; +then some such differentiations of animal and vegetable life as we +actually see follow as matters of course. A1 and A2 have a sense of +self-interest as A had, but they are not precisely in circumstances +similar to A’s, nor, it may be, to each other’s; they will therefore act +somewhat differently, and every living being is modified by a change of +action. Having become modified, they follow the spirit of A’s action +more essentially in begetting a creature like themselves than in +begetting one like A; for the essence of A’s act was not the reproduction +of A, but the reproduction of a creature like the one from which it +sprung—that is to say, a creature bearing traces in its body of the main +influences that have worked upon its parent. + +Within the cycle of reproduction there are cycles upon cycles in the life +of each individual, whether animal or plant. Observe the action of our +lungs and heart, how regular it is, and how a cycle having been once +established, it is repeated many millions of times in an individual of +average health and longevity. Remember also that it is this +periodicity—this inevitable tendency of all atoms in combination to +repeat any combination which they have once repeated, unless forcibly +prevented from doing so—which alone renders nine-tenths of our mechanical +inventions of practical use to us. There is no internal periodicity +about a hammer or a saw, but there is in the steam-engine or watermill +when once set in motion. The actions of these machines recur in a +regular series, at regular intervals, with the unerringness of +circulating decimals. + +When we bear in mind, then, the omnipresence of this tendency in the +world around us, the absolute freedom from exception which attends its +action, the manner in which it holds equally good upon the vastest and +the smallest scale, and the completeness of its accord with our ideas of +what must inevitably happen when a like combination is placed in +circumstances like those in which it was placed before—when we bear in +mind all this, is it possible not to connect the facts together, and to +refer cycles of living generations to the same unalterableness in the +action of like matter under like circumstances which makes Jupiter and +Saturn revolve round the sun, or the piston of a steam-engine move up and +down as long as the steam acts upon it? + +But who will attribute memory to the hands of a clock, to a piston-rod, +to air or water in a storm or in course of evaporation, to the earth and +planets in their circuits round the sun, or to the atoms of the universe, +if they too be moving in a cycle vaster than we can take account of? +{160} And if not, why introduce it into the embryonic development of +living beings, when there is not a particle of evidence in support of its +actual presence, when regularity of action can be ensured just as well +without it as with it, and when at the best it is considered as existing +under circumstances which it baffles us to conceive, inasmuch as it is +supposed to be exercised without any conscious recollection? Surely a +memory which is exercised without any consciousness of recollecting is +only a periphrasis for the absence of any memory at all. + + + + +Chapter XII + + +Refutation—Memory at once a promoter and a disturber of uniformity of +action and structure. + +TO meet the objections in the two foregoing chapters, I need do little +more than show that the fact of certain often inherited diseases and +developments, whether of youth or old age, being obviously not due to a +memory on the part of offspring of like diseases and developments in the +parents, does not militate against supposing that embryonic and youthful +development generally is due to memory. + +This is the main part of the objection; the rest resolves itself into an +assertion that there is no evidence in support of instinct and embryonic +development being due to memory, and a contention that the necessity of +each particular moment in each particular case is sufficient to account +for the facts without the introduction of memory. + +I will deal with these two last points briefly first. As regards the +evidence in support of the theory that instinct and growth are due to a +rapid unconscious memory of past experiences and developments in the +persons of the ancestors of the living form in which they appear, I must +refer my readers to “Life and Habit,” and to the translation of Professor +Hering’s lecture given in this volume. I will only repeat here that a +chrysalis, we will say, is as much one and the same person with the +chrysalis of its preceding generation, as this last is one and the same +person with the egg or caterpillar from which it sprang. You cannot deny +personal identity between two successive generations without sooner or +later denying it during the successive stages in the single life of what +we call one individual; nor can you admit personal identity through the +stages of a long and varied life (embryonic and postnatal) without +admitting it to endure through an endless series of generations. + +The personal identity of successive generations being admitted, the +possibility of the second of two generations remembering what happened to +it in the first is obvious. The _à priori_ objection, therefore, is +removed, and the question becomes one of fact—does the offspring act as +if it remembered? + +The answer to this question is not only that it does so act, but that it +is not possible to account for either its development or its early +instinctive actions upon any other hypothesis than that of its +remembering, and remembering exceedingly well. + +The only alternative is to declare with Von Hartmann that a living being +may display a vast and varied information concerning all manner of +details, and be able to perform most intricate operations, independently +of experience and practice. Once admit knowledge independent of +experience, and farewell to sober sense and reason from that moment. + +Firstly, then, we show that offspring has had every facility for +remembering; secondly, that it shows every appearance of having +remembered; thirdly, that no other hypothesis except memory can be +brought forward, so as to account for the phenomena of instinct and +heredity generally, which is not easily reducible to an absurdity. +Beyond this we do not care to go, and must allow those to differ from us +who require further evidence. + +As regards the argument that the necessity of each moment will account +for likeness of result, without there being any need for introducing +memory, I admit that likeness of consequents is due to likeness of +antecedents, and I grant this will hold as good with embryos as with +oxygen and hydrogen gas; what will cover the one will cover the other, +for time writs of the laws common to all matter run within the womb as +freely as elsewhere; but admitting that there are combinations into which +living beings enter with a faculty called memory which has its effect +upon their conduct, and admitting that such combinations are from time to +time repeated (as we observe in the case of a practised performer playing +a piece of music which he has committed to memory), then I maintain that +though, indeed, the likeness of one performance to its immediate +predecessor is due to likeness of the combinations immediately preceding +the two performances, yet memory plays so important a part in both these +combinations as to make it a distinguishing feature in them, and +therefore proper to be insisted upon. We do not, for example, say that +Herr Joachim played such and such a sonata without the music, because he +was such and such an arrangement of matter in such and such +circumstances, resembling those under which he played without music on +some past occasion. This goes without saying; we say only that he played +the music by heart or by memory, as he had often played it before. + +To the objector that a caterpillar becomes a chrysalis not because it +remembers and takes the action taken by its fathers and mothers in due +course before it, but because when matter is in such a physical and +mental state as to be called caterpillar, it must perforce assume +presently such another physical and mental state as to be called +chrysalis, and that therefore there is no memory in the case—to this +objector I rejoin that the offspring caterpillar would not have become so +like the parent as to make the next or chrysalis stage a matter of +necessity, unless both parent and offspring had been influenced by +something that we usually call memory. For it is this very possession of +a common memory which has guided the offspring into the path taken by, +and hence to a virtually same condition with, the parent, and which +guided the parent in its turn to a state virtually identical with a +corresponding state in the existence of its own parent. To memory, +therefore, the most prominent place in the transaction is assigned +rightly. + +To deny that will guided by memory has anything to do with the +development of embryos seems like denying that a desire to obstruct has +anything to do with the recent conduct of certain members in the House of +Commons. What should we think of one who said that the action of these +gentlemen had nothing to do with a desire to embarrass the Government, +but was simply the necessary outcome of the chemical and mechanical +forces at work, which being such and such, the action which we see is +inevitable, and has therefore nothing to do with wilful obstruction? We +should answer that there was doubtless a great deal of chemical and +mechanical action in the matter; perhaps, for aught we knew or cared, it +was all chemical and mechanical; but if so, then a desire to obstruct +parliamentary business is involved in certain kinds of chemical and +mechanical action, and that the kinds involving this had preceded the +recent proceedings of the members in question. If asked to prove this, +we can get no further than that such action as has been taken has never +yet been seen except as following after and in consequence of a desire to +obstruct; that this is our nomenclature, and that we can no more be +expected to change it than to change our mother tongue at the bidding of +a foreigner. + +A little reflection will convince the reader that he will be unable to +deny will and memory to the embryo without at the same time denying their +existence everywhere, and maintaining that they have no place in the +acquisition of a habit, nor indeed in any human action. He will feel +that the actions, and the relation of one action to another which he +observes in embryos is such as is never seen except in association with +and as a consequence of will and memory. He will therefore say that it +is due to will and memory. To say that these are the necessary outcome +of certain antecedents is not to destroy them: granted that they are—a +man does not cease to be a man when we reflect that he has had a father +and mother, nor do will and memory cease to be will and memory on the +ground that they cannot come causeless. They are manifest minute by +minute to the perception of all sane people, and this tribunal, though +not infallible, is nevertheless our ultimate court of appeal—the final +arbitrator in all disputed cases. + +We must remember that there is no action, however original or peculiar, +which is not in respect of far the greater number of its details founded +upon memory. If a desperate man blows his brains out—an action which he +can do once in a lifetime only, and which none of his ancestors can have +done before leaving offspring—still nine hundred and ninety-nine +thousandths of the movements necessary to achieve his end consist of +habitual movements—movements, that is to say, which were once difficult, +but which have been practised and practised by the help of memory until +they are now performed automatically. We can no more have an action than +a creative effort of the imagination cut off from memory. Ideas and +actions seem almost to resemble matter and force in respect of the +impossibility of originating or destroying them; nearly all that are, are +memories of other ideas and actions, transmitted but not created, +disappearing but not perishing. + +It appears, then, that when in Chapter X. we supposed the clerk who +wanted his dinner to forget on a second day the action he had taken the +day before, we still, without perhaps perceiving it, supposed him to be +guided by memory in all the details of his action, such as his taking +down his hat and going out into the street. We could not, indeed, +deprive him of all memory without absolutely paralysing his action. + +Nevertheless new ideas, new faiths, and new actions do in the course of +time come about, the living expressions of which we may see in the new +forms of life which from time to time have arisen and are still arising, +and in the increase of our own knowledge and mechanical inventions. But +it is only a very little new that is added at a time, and that little is +generally due to the desire to attain an end which cannot be attained by +any of the means for which there exists a perceived precedent in the +memory. When this is the case, either the memory is further ransacked +for any forgotten shreds of details, a combination of which may serve the +desired purpose; or action is taken in the dark, which sometimes succeeds +and becomes a fertile source of further combinations; or we are brought +to a dead stop. All action is random in respect of any of the minute +actions which compose it that are not done in consequence of memory, real +or supposed. So that random, or action taken in the dark, or illusion, +lies at the very root of progress. + +I will now consider the objection that the phenomena of instinct and +embryonic development ought not to be ascribed to memory, inasmuch as +certain other phenomena of heredity, such as gout, cannot be ascribed to +it. + +Those who object in this way forget that our actions fall into two main +classes: those which we have often repeated before by means of a regular +series of subordinate actions beginning and ending at a certain tolerably +well-defined point—as when Herr Joachim plays a sonata in public, or when +we dress or undress ourselves; and actions the details of which are +indeed guided by memory, but which in their general scope and purpose are +new—as when we are being married or presented at court. + +At each point in any action of the first of the two kinds above referred +to there is a memory (conscious or unconscious according to the less or +greater number of times the action has been repeated), not only of the +steps in the present and previous performances which have led up to the +particular point that may be selected, but also of the particular point +itself; there is, therefore, at each point in a habitual performance a +memory at once of like antecedents and of a like present. + +If the memory, whether of the antecedent or the present, were absolutely +perfect; if the vibration (according to Professor Hering) on each +repetition existed in its full original strength and without having been +interfered with by any other vibration; and if, again, the new wave +running into it from exterior objects on each repetition of the action +were absolutely identical in character with the wave that ran in upon the +last occasion, then there would be no change in the action and no +modification or improvement could take place. For though indeed the +latest performance would always have one memory more than the latest but +one to guide it, yet the memories being identical, it would not matter +how many or how few they were. + +On any repetition, however, the circumstances, external or internal, or +both, never are absolutely identical: there is some slight variation in +each individual case, and some part of this variation is remembered, with +approbation or disapprobation as the case may be. + +The fact, therefore, that on each repetition of the action there is one +memory more than on the last but one, and that this memory is slightly +different from its predecessor, is seen to be an inherent and, _ex +hypothesi_, necessarily disturbing factor in all habitual action—and the +life of an organism should be regarded as the habitual action of a single +individual, namely, of the organism itself, and of its ancestors. This +is the key to accumulation of improvement, whether in the arts which we +assiduously practise during our single life, or in the structures and +instincts of successive generations. The memory does not complete a true +circle, but is, as it were, a spiral slightly divergent therefrom. It is +no longer a perfectly circulating decimal. Where, on the other hand, +there is no memory of a like present, where, in fact, the memory is not, +so to speak, spiral, there is no accumulation of improvement. The effect +of any variation is not transmitted, and is not thus pregnant of still +further change. + +As regards the second of the two classes of actions above referred +to—those, namely, which are not recurrent or habitual, _and at no point +of which is there a memory of a past present like the one which is +present now_—there will have been no accumulation of strong and well-knit +memory as regards the action as a whole, but action, if taken at all, +will be taken upon disjointed fragments of individual actions (our own +and those of other people) pieced together with a result more or less +satisfactory according to circumstances. + +But it does not follow that the action of two people who have had +tolerably similar antecedents and are placed in tolerably similar +circumstances should be more unlike each other in this second case than +in the first. On the contrary, nothing is more common than to observe +the same kind of people making the same kind of mistake when placed for +the first time in the same kind of new circumstances. I did not say that +there would be no sameness of action without memory of a like present. +There may be sameness of action proceeding from a memory, conscious or +unconscious, of like antecedents, and _a presence only of like presents +without recollection of the same_. + +The sameness of action of like persons placed under like circumstances +for the first time, resembles the sameness of action of inorganic matter +under the same combinations. Let us for the moment suppose what we call +non-living substances to be capable of remembering their antecedents, and +that the changes they undergo are the expressions of their recollections. +Then I admit, of course, that there is not memory in any cream, we will +say, that is about to be churned of the cream of the preceding week, but +the common absence of such memory from each week’s cream is an element of +sameness between the two. And though no cream can remember having been +churned before, yet all cream in all time has had nearly identical +antecedents, and has therefore nearly the same memories, and nearly the +same proclivities. Thus, in fact, the cream of one week is as truly the +same as the cream of another week from the same cow, pasture, &c., as +anything is ever the same with anything; for the having been subjected to +like antecedents engenders the closest similarity that we can conceive +of, if the substances were like to start with. + +The manifest absence of any connecting memory (or memory of like +presents) from certain of the phenomena of heredity, such as, for +example, the diseases of old age, is now seen to be no valid reason for +saying that such other and far more numerous and important phenomena as +those of embryonic development are not phenomena of memory. Growth and +the diseases of old age do indeed, at first sight, appear to stand on the +same footing, but reflection shows us that the question whether a certain +result is due to memory or no must be settled not by showing that +combinations into which memory does not certainly enter may yet generate +like results, and therefore considering the memory theory disposed of, +but by the evidence we may be able to adduce in support of the fact that +the second agent has actually remembered the conduct of the first, +inasmuch as he cannot be supposed able to do what it is plain he can do, +except under the guidance of memory or experience, and can also be shown +to have had every opportunity of remembering. When either of these tests +fails, similarity of action on the part of two agents need not be +connected with memory of a like present as well as of like antecedents, +but must, or at any rate may, be referred to memory of like antecedents +only. + +Returning to a parenthesis a few pages back, in which I said that +consciousness of memory would be less or greater according to the greater +or fewer number of times that the act had been repeated, it may be +observed as a corollary to this, that the less consciousness of memory +the greater the uniformity of action, and _vice versa_. For the less +consciousness involves the memory’s being more perfect, through a larger +number (generally) of repetitions of the act that is remembered; there is +therefore a less proportionate difference in respect of the number of +recollections of this particular act between the most recent actor and +the most recent but one. This is why very old civilisations, as those of +many insects, and the greater number of now living organisms, appear to +the eye not to change at all. + +For example, if an action has been performed only ten times, we will say +by A, B, C, &c., who are similar in all respects, except that A acts +without recollection, B with recollection of A’s action, C with +recollection of both B’s and A’s, while J remembers the course taken by +A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H, and I—the possession of a memory by B will indeed +so change his action, as compared with A’s, that it may well be hardly +recognisable. We saw this in our example of the clerk who asked the +policeman the way to the eating-house on one day, but did not ask him the +next, because he remembered; but C’s action will not be so different from +B’s as B’s from A’s, for though C will act with a memory of two occasions +on which the action has been performed, while B recollects only the +original performance by A, yet B and C both act with the guidance of a +memory and experience of some kind, while A acted without any. Thus the +clerk referred to in Chapter X. will act on the third day much as he +acted on the second—that is to say, he will see the policeman at the +corner of the street, but will not question him. + +When the action is repeated by J for the tenth time, the difference +between J’s repetition of it and I’s will be due solely to the difference +between a recollection of nine past performances by J against only eight +by I, and this is so much proportionately less than the difference +between a recollection of two performances and of only one, that a less +modification of action should be expected. At the same time +consciousness concerning an action repeated for the tenth time should be +less acute than on the first repetition. Memory, therefore, though +tending to disturb similarity of action less and less continually, must +always cause some disturbance. At the same time the possession of a +memory on the successive repetitions of an action after the first, and, +perhaps, the first two or three, during which the recollection may be +supposed still imperfect, will tend to ensure uniformity, for it will be +one of the elements of sameness in the agents—they both acting by the +light of experience and memory. + +During the embryonic stages and in childhood we are almost entirely under +the guidance of a practised and powerful memory of circumstances which +have been often repeated, not only in detail and piecemeal, but as a +whole, and under many slightly varying conditions; thus the performance +has become well averaged and matured in its arrangements, so as to meet +all ordinary emergencies. We therefore act with great unconsciousness +and vary our performances little. Babies are much more alike than +persons of middle age. + +Up to the average age at which our ancestors have had children during +many generations, we are still guided in great measure by memory; but the +variations in external circumstances begin to make themselves perceptible +in our characters. In middle life we live more and more continually upon +the piecing together of details of memory drawn from our personal +experience, that is to say, upon the memory of our own antecedents; and +this resembles the kind of memory we hypothetically attached to cream a +little time ago. It is not surprising, then, that a son who has +inherited his father’s tastes and constitution, and who lives much as his +father had done, should make the same mistakes as his father did when he +reaches his father’s age—we will say of seventy—though he cannot possibly +remember his father’s having made the mistakes. It were to be wished we +could, for then we might know better how to avoid gout, cancer, or what +not. And it is to be noticed that the developments of old age are +generally things we should be glad enough to avoid if we knew how to do +so. + + + + +Chapter XIII + + +Conclusion. + +IF we observed the resemblance between successive generations to be as +close as that between distilled water and distilled water through all +time, and if we observed that perfect unchangeableness in the action of +living beings which we see in what we call chemical and mechanical +combinations, we might indeed suspect that memory had as little place +among the causes of their action as it can have in anything, and that +each repetition, whether of a habit or the practice of art, or of an +embryonic process in successive generations, was an original performance, +for all that memory had to do with it. I submit, however, that in the +case of the reproductive forms of life we see just so much variety, in +spite of uniformity, as is consistent with a repetition involving not +only a nearly perfect similarity in the agents and their circumstances, +but also the little departure therefrom that is inevitably involved in +the supposition that a memory of like presents as well as of like +antecedents (as distinguished from a memory of like antecedents only) has +played a part in their development—a cyclonic memory, if the expression +may be pardoned. + +There is life infinitely lower and more minute than any which our most +powerful microscopes reveal to us, but let us leave this upon one side +and begin with the amœba. Let us suppose that this structureless morsel +of protoplasm is, for all its structurelessness, composed of an infinite +number of living molecules, each one of them with hopes and fears of its +own, and all dwelling together like Tekke Turcomans, of whom we read that +they live for plunder only, and that each man of them is entirely +independent, acknowledging no constituted authority, but that some among +them exercise a tacit and undefined influence over the others. Let us +suppose these molecules capable of memory, both in their capacity as +individuals, and as societies, and able to transmit their memories to +their descendants, from the traditions of the dimmest past to the +experiences of their own lifetime. Some of these societies will remain +simple, as having had no history, but to the greater number unfamiliar, +and therefore striking, incidents will from time to time occur, which, +when they do not disturb memory so greatly as to kill, will leave their +impression upon it. The body or society will remember these incidents, +and be modified by them in its conduct, and therefore more or less in its +internal arrangements, which will tend inevitably to specialisation. +This memory of the most striking events of varied lifetimes I maintain, +with Professor Hering, to be the differentiating cause, which, +accumulated in countless generations, has led up from the amœba to man. +If there had been no such memory, the amœba of one generation would have +exactly resembled time amœba of the preceding, and a perfect cycle would +have been established; the modifying effects of an additional memory in +each generation have made the cycle into a spiral, and into a spiral +whose eccentricity, in the outset hardly perceptible, is becoming greater +and greater with increasing longevity and more complex social and +mechanical inventions. + +We say that the chicken grows the horny tip to its beak with which it +ultimately pecks its way out of its shell, because it remembers having +grown it before, and the use it made of it. We say that it made it on +the same principles as a man makes a spade or a hammer, that is to say, +as the joint result both of desire and experience. When I say +experience, I mean experience not only of what will be wanted, but also +of the details of all the means that must be taken in order to effect +this. Memory, therefore, is supposed to guide the chicken not only in +respect of the main design, but in respect also of every atomic action, +so to speak, which goes to make up the execution of this design. It is +not only the suggestion of a plan which is due to memory, but, as +Professor Hering has so well said, it is the binding power of memory +which alone renders any consolidation or coherence of action possible, +inasmuch as without this no action could have parts subordinate one to +another, yet bearing upon a common end; no part of an action, great or +small, could have reference to any other part, much less to a combination +of all the parts; nothing, in fact, but ultimate atoms of actions could +ever happen—these bearing the same relation to such an action, we will +say, as a railway journey from London to Edinburgh as a single molecule +of hydrogen to a gallon of water. If asked how it is that the chicken +shows no sign of consciousness concerning this design, nor yet of the +steps it is taking to carry it out, we reply that such unconsciousness is +usual in all cases where an action, and the design which prompts it, have +been repeated exceedingly often. If, again, we are asked how we account +for the regularity with which each step is taken in its due order, we +answer that this too is characteristic of actions that are done +habitually—they being very rarely misplaced in respect of any part. + +When I wrote “Life and Habit,” I had arrived at the conclusion that +memory was the most essential characteristic of life, and went so far as +to say, “Life is that property of matter whereby it can remember—matter +which can remember is living.” I should perhaps have written, “Life is +the being possessed of a memory—the life of a thing at any moment is the +memories which at that moment it retains”; and I would modify the words +that immediately follow, namely, “Matter which cannot remember is dead”; +for they imply that there is such a thing as matter which cannot remember +anything at all, and this on fuller consideration I do not believe to be +the case; I can conceive of no matter which is not able to remember a +little, and which is not living in respect of what it can remember. I do +not see how action of any kind is conceivable without the supposition +that every atom retains a memory of certain antecedents. I cannot, +however, at this point, enter upon the reasons which have compelled me to +this conclusion. Whether these would be deemed sufficient or no, at any +rate we cannot believe that a system of self-reproducing associations +should develop from the simplicity of the amœba to the complexity of the +human body without the presence of that memory which can alone account at +once for the resemblances and the differences between successive +generations, for the arising and the accumulation of divergences—for the +tendency to differ and the tendency not to differ. + +At parting, therefore, I would recommend the reader to see every atom in +the universe as living and able to feel and to remember, but in a humble +way. He must have life eternal, as well as matter eternal; and the life +and the matter must be joined together inseparably as body and soul to +one another. Thus he will see God everywhere, not as those who repeat +phrases conventionally, but as people who would have their words taken +according to their most natural and legitimate meaning; and he will feel +that the main difference between him and many of those who oppose him +lies in the fact that whereas both he and they use the same language, his +opponents only half mean what they say, while he means it entirely. + +The attempt to get a higher form of a life from a lower one is in +accordance with our observation and experience. It is therefore proper +to be believed. The attempt to get it from that which has absolutely no +life is like trying to get something out of nothing. The millionth part +of a farthing put out to interest at ten per cent, will in five hundred +years become over a million pounds, and so long as we have any millionth +of a millionth of the farthing to start with, our getting as many million +pounds as we have a fancy for is only a question of time, but without the +initial millionth of a millionth of a millionth part, we shall get no +increment whatever. A little leaven will leaven the whole lump, but +there must be _some_ leaven. + +I will here quote two passages from an article already quoted from on +page 55 of this book. They run:— + + “We are growing conscious that our earnest and most determined + efforts to make motion produce sensation and volition have proved a + failure, and now we want to rest a little in the opposite, much less + laborious conjecture, and allow any kind of motion to start into + existence, or at least to receive its specific direction from + psychical sources; sensation and volition being for the purpose + quietly insinuated into the constitution of the ultimately moving + particles.” {177a} + +And:— + + “In this light it can remain no longer surprising that we actually + find motility and sensibility so intimately interblended in nature.” + {177b} + +We should endeavour to see the so-called inorganic as living, in respect +of the qualities it has in common with the organic, rather than the +organic as non-living in respect of the qualities it has in common with +the inorganic. True, it would be hard to place one’s self on the same +moral platform as a stone, but this is not necessary; it is enough that +we should feel the stone to have a moral platform of its own, though that +platform embraces little more than a profound respect for the laws of +gravitation, chemical affinity, &c. As for the difficulty of conceiving +a body as living that has not got a reproductive system—we should +remember that neuter insects are living but are believed to have no +reproductive system. Again, we should bear in mind that mere +assimilation involves all the essentials of reproduction, and that both +air and water possess this power in a very high degree. The essence of a +reproductive system, then, is found low down in the scheme of nature. + +At present our leading men of science are in this difficulty; on the one +hand their experiments and their theories alike teach them that +spontaneous generation ought not to be accepted; on the other, they must +have an origin for the life of the living forms, which, by their own +theory, have been evolved, and they can at present get this origin in no +other way than by the _Deus ex machinâ_ method, which they reject as +unproved, or a spontaneous generation of living from non-living matter, +which is no less foreign to their experience. As a general rule, they +prefer the latter alternative. So Professor Tyndall, in his celebrated +article (_Nineteenth Century_, November 1878), wrote:— + + “It is generally conceded (and seems to be a necessary inference from + the lessons of science) that _spontaneous generation must at one time + have taken place_” (italics mine). + +No inference can well be more unnecessary or unscientific. I suppose +spontaneous generation ceases to be objectionable if it was “only a very +little one,” and came off a long time ago in a foreign country. The +proper inference is, that there is a low kind of livingness in every atom +of matter. Life eternal is as inevitable a conclusion as matter eternal. + +It should not be doubted that wherever there is vibration or motion there +is life and memory, and that there is vibration and motion at all times +in all things. + +The reader who takes the above position will find that he can explain the +entry of what he calls death among what he calls the living, whereas he +could by no means introduce life into his system if he started without +it. Death is deducible; life is not deducible. Death is a change of +memories; it is not the destruction of all memory. It is as the +liquidation of one company, each member of which will presently join a +new one, and retain a trifle even of the old cancelled memory, by way of +greater aptitude for working in concert with other molecules. This is +why animals feed on grass and on each other, and cannot proselytise or +convert the rude ground before it has been tutored in the first +principles of the higher kinds of association. + +Again, I would recommend the reader to beware of believing anything in +this book unless he either likes it, or feels angry at being told it. If +required belief in this or that makes a man angry, I suppose he should, +as a general rule, swallow it whole then and there upon the spot, +otherwise he may take it or leave it as he likes. I have not gone far +for my facts, nor yet far from them; all on which I rest are as open to +the reader as to me. If I have sometimes used hard terms, the +probability is that I have not understood them, but have done so by a +slip, as one who has caught a bad habit from the company he has been +lately keeping. They should be skipped. + +Do not let him be too much cast down by the bad language with which +professional scientists obscure the issue, nor by their seeming to make +it their business to fog us under the pretext of removing our +difficulties. It is not the ratcatcher’s interest to catch all the rats; +and, as Handel observed so sensibly, “Every professional gentleman must +do his best for to live.” The art of some of our philosophers, however, +is sufficiently transparent, and consists too often in saying “organism +which must be classified among fishes,” instead of “fish,” {179a} and +then proclaiming that they have “an ineradicable tendency to try to make +things clear.” {179b} + +If another example is required, here is the following from an article +than which I have seen few with which I more completely agree, or which +have given me greater pleasure. If our men of science would take to +writing in this way, we should be glad enough to follow them. The +passage I refer to runs thus:— + + “Professor Huxley speaks of a ‘verbal fog by which the question at + issue may be hidden’; is there no verbal fog in the statement that + _the ætiology of crayfishes resolves itself into a gradual evolution + in the course of the mesosoic and subsequent epochs of the world’s + history of these animals from a primitive astacomorphous form_? + Would it be fog or light that would envelop the history of man if we + said that the existence of man was explained by the hypothesis of his + gradual evolution from a primitive anthropomorphous form? I should + call this fog, not light.” {180} + +Especially let him mistrust those who are holding forth about protoplasm, +and maintaining that this is the only living substance. Protoplasm may +be, and perhaps is, the _most_ living part of an organism, as the most +capable of retaining vibrations, but this is the utmost that can be +claimed for it. + +Having mentioned protoplasm, I may ask the reader to note the breakdown +of that school of philosophy which divided the _ego_ from the _non ego_. +The protoplasmists, on the one hand, are whittling away at the _ego_, +till they have reduced it to a little jelly in certain parts of the body, +and they will whittle away this too presently, if they go on as they are +doing now. + +Others, again, are so unifying the _ego_ and the _non ego_, that with +them there will soon be as little of the _non ego_ left as there is of +the _ego_ with their opponents. Both, however, are so far agreed as that +we know not where to draw the line between the two, and this renders +nugatory any system which is founded upon a distinction between them. + +The truth is, that all classification whatever, when we examine its +_raison d’être_ closely, is found to be arbitrary—to depend on our sense +of our own convenience, and not on any inherent distinction in the nature +of the things themselves. Strictly speaking, there is only one thing and +one action. The universe, or God, and the action of the universe as a +whole. + +Lastly, I may predict with some certainty that before long we shall find +the original Darwinism of Dr. Erasmus Darwin (with an infusion of +Professor Hering into the bargain) generally accepted instead of the +neo-Darwinism of to-day, and that the variations whose accumulation +results in species will be recognised as due to the wants and endeavours +of the living forms in which they appear, instead of being ascribed to +chance, or, in other words, to unknown causes, as by Mr. Charles Darwin’s +system. We shall have some idyllic young naturalist bringing up Dr. +Erasmus Darwin’s note on _Trapa natans_, {181a} and Lamarck’s kindred +passage on the descent of _Ranunculus hederaceus_ from _Ranunculus +aquatilis_ {181b} as fresh discoveries, and be told, with much happy +simplicity, that those animals and plants which have felt the need of +such or such a structure have developed it, while those which have not +wanted it have gone without it. Thus, it will be declared, every leaf we +see around us, every structure of the minutest insect, will bear witness +to the truth of the “great guess” of the greatest of naturalists +concerning the memory of living matter. + +I dare say the public will not object to this, and am very sure that none +of the admirers of Mr. Charles Darwin or Mr. Wallace will protest against +it; but it may be as well to point out that this was not the view of the +matter taken by Mr. Wallace in 1858 when he and Mr. Darwin first came +forward as preachers of natural selection. At that time Mr. Wallace saw +clearly enough the difference between the theory of “natural selection” +and that of Lamarck. He wrote:— + + “The hypothesis of Lamarck—that progressive changes in species have + been produced by the attempts of animals to increase the development + of their own organs, and thus modify their structure and habits—has + been repeatedly and easily refuted by all writers on the subject of + varieties and species, . . . but the view here developed tenders such + an hypothesis quite unnecessary. . . . The powerful retractile + talons of the falcon and the cat tribes have not been produced or + increased by the volition of those animals, neither did the giraffe + acquire its long neck by desiring to reach the foliage of the more + lofty shrubs, and constantly stretching its neck for this purpose, + but because any varieties which occurred among its antitypes with a + longer neck than usual _at once secured a fresh range of pasture over + the same ground as their shorter-necked companions_, _and on the + first scarcity of food were thereby enabled to outlive them_” + (italics in original). {182a} + +This is absolutely the neo-Darwinian doctrine, and a denial of the mainly +fortuitous character of the variations in animal and vegetable forms cuts +at its root. That Mr. Wallace, after years of reflection, still adhered +to this view, is proved by his heading a reprint of the paragraph just +quoted from {182b} with the words “Lamarck’s hypothesis very different +from that now advanced”; nor do any of his more recent works show that he +has modified his opinion. It should be noted that Mr. Wallace does not +call his work “Contributions to the Theory of Evolution,” but to that of +“Natural Selection.” + +Mr. Darwin, with characteristic caution, only commits himself to saying +that Mr. Wallace has arrived at _almost_ (italics mine) the same general +conclusions as he, Mr. Darwin, has done; {182c} but he still, as in 1859, +declares that it would be “a serious error to suppose that the greater +number of instincts have been acquired by habit in one generation, and +then transmitted by inheritance to succeeding generations,” {183a} and he +still comprehensively condemns the “well-known doctrine of inherited +habit, as advanced by Lamarck.” {183b} + +As for the statement in the passage quoted from Mr. Wallace, to the +effect that Lamarck’s hypothesis “has been repeatedly and easily refuted +by all writers on the subject of varieties and species,” it is a very +surprising one. I have searched Evolution literature in vain for any +refutation of the Erasmus Darwinian system (for this is what Lamarck’s +hypothesis really is) which need make the defenders of that system at all +uneasy. The best attempt at an answer to Erasmus Darwin that has yet +been made is “Paley’s Natural Theology,” which was throughout obviously +written to meet Buffon and the “Zoonomia.” It is the manner of +theologians to say that such and such an objection “has been refuted over +and over again,” without at the same time telling us when and where; it +is to be regretted that Mr. Wallace has here taken a leaf out of the +theologians’ book. His statement is one which will not pass muster with +those whom public opinion is sure in the end to follow. + +Did Mr. Herbert Spencer, for example, “repeatedly and easily refute” +Lamarck’s hypothesis in his brilliant article in the _Leader_, March 20, +1852? On the contrary, that article is expressly directed against those +“who cavalierly reject the hypothesis of Lamarck and his followers.” +This article was written six years before the words last quoted from Mr. +Wallace; how absolutely, however, does the word “cavalierly” apply to +them! + +Does Isidore Geoffroy, again, bear Mr. Wallace’s assertion out better? +In 1859—that is to say, but a short time after Mr. Wallace had written—he +wrote as follows:— + + “Such was the language which Lamarck heard during his protracted old + age, saddened alike by the weight of years and blindness; this was + what people did not hesitate to utter over his grave yet barely + closed, and what indeed they are still saying—commonly too without + any knowledge of what Lamarck maintained, but merely repeating at + secondhand bad caricatures of his teaching. + + “When will the time come when we may see Lamarck’s theory + discussed—and, I may as well at once say, refuted in some important + points {184a}—with at any rate the respect due to one of the most + illustrious masters of our science? And when will this theory, the + hardihood of which has been greatly exaggerated, become freed from + the interpretations and commentaries by the false light of which so + many naturalists have formed their opinion concerning it? If its + author is to be condemned, let it be, at any rate, not before he has + been heard.” {184b} + +In 1873 M. Martin published his edition of Lamarck’s “Philosophie +Zoologique.” He was still able to say, with, I believe, perfect truth, +that Lamarck’s theory has “never yet had the honour of being discussed +seriously.” {184c} + +Professor Huxley in his article on Evolution is no less cavalier than Mr. +Wallace. He writes:—{184d} + + “Lamarck introduced the conception of the action of an animal on + itself as a factor in producing modification.” + +[Lamarck did nothing of the kind. It was Buffon and Dr. Darwin who +introduced this, but more especially Dr. Darwin.] + + “But _a little consideration showed_” (italics mine) “that though + Lamarck had seized what, as far as it goes, is a true cause of + modification, it is a cause the actual effects of which are wholly + inadequate to account for any considerable modification in animals, + and which can have no influence whatever in the vegetable world, &c.” + +I should be very glad to come across some of the “little consideration” +which will show this. I have searched for it far and wide, and have +never been able to find it. + +I think Professor Huxley has been exercising some of his ineradicable +tendency to try to make things clear in the article on Evolution, already +so often quoted from. We find him (p. 750) pooh-poohing Lamarck, yet on +the next page he says, “How far ‘natural selection’ suffices for the +production of species remains to be seen.” And this when “natural +selection” was already so nearly of age! Why, to those who know how to +read between a philosopher’s lines, the sentence comes to very nearly the +same as a declaration that the writer has no great opinion of “natural +selection.” Professor Huxley continues, “Few can doubt that, if not the +whole cause, it is a very important factor in that operation.” A +philosopher’s words should be weighed carefully, and when Professor +Huxley says “few can doubt,” we must remember that he may be including +himself among the few whom he considers to have the power of doubting on +this matter. He does not say “few will,” but “few can” doubt, as though +it were only the enlightened who would have the power of doing so. +Certainly “nature,”—for this is what “natural selection” comes to,—is +rather an important factor in the operation, but we do not gain much by +being told so. If, however, Professor Huxley neither believes in the +origin of species, through sense of need on the part of animals +themselves, nor yet in “natural selection,” we should be glad to know +what he does believe in. + +The battle is one of greater importance than appears at first sight. It +is a battle between teleology and non-teleology, between the +purposiveness and the non-purposiveness of the organs in animal and +vegetable bodies. According to Erasmus Darwin, Lamarck, and Paley, +organs are purposive; according to Mr. Darwin and his followers, they are +not purposive. But the main arguments against the system of Dr. Erasmus +Darwin are arguments which, so far as they have any weight, tell against +evolution generally. Now that these have been disposed of, and the +prejudice against evolution has been overcome, it will be seen that there +is nothing to be said against the system of Dr. Darwin and Lamarck which +does not tell with far greater force against that of Mr. Charles Darwin +and Mr. Wallace. + + * * * * * + + THE END. + + * * * * * + + WILLIAM BRENDON AND SON, LTD. + PRINTERS, PLYMOUTH + + + + +Footnotes + + +{0a} This is the date on the title-page. The preface is dated October +15, 1886, and the first copy was issued in November of the same year. +All the dates are taken from the Bibliography by Mr. H. Festing Jones +prefixed to the “Extracts” in the _New Quarterly Review_ (1909). + +{0b} I.e. after p. 285: it bears no number of its own! + +{0c} The distinction was merely implicit in his published writings, but +has been printed since his death from his “Notebooks,” _New Quarterly +Review_, April, 1908. I had developed this thesis, without knowing of +Butler’s explicit anticipation in an article then in the press: +“Mechanism and Life,” _Contemporary Review_, May, 1908. + +{0d} The term has recently been revived by Prof. Hubrecht and by myself +(_Contemporary Review_, November 1908). + +{0e} See _Fortnightly Review_, February 1908, and _Contemporary Review_, +September and November 1909. Since these publications the hypnosis seems +to have somewhat weakened. + +{0f} A “hormone” is a chemical substance which, formed in one part of +the body, alters the reactions of another part, normally for the good of +the organism. + +{0g} Mr. H. Festing Jones first directed my attention to these passages +and their bearing on the Mutation Theory. + +{0i} He says in a note, “This general type of reaction was described and +illustrated in a different connection by Pfluger in ‘Pfluger’s Archiv. +f.d. ges. Physiologie,’ Bd. XV.” The essay bears the significant title +“Die teleologische Mechanik der lebendigen Natur,” and is a very +remarkable one, as coming from an official physiologist in 1877, when the +chemico-physical school was nearly at its zenith. + +{0j} “Contributions to the Study of the Lower Animals” (1904), +“Modifiability in Behaviour” and “Method of Regulability in Behaviour and +in other Fields,” in _Journ. Experimental Zoology_, vol. ii. (1905). + +{0h} See “The Hereditary Transmission of Acquired Characters” in +_Contemporary Review_, September and November 1908, in which references +are given to earlier statements. + +{0k} Semon’s technical terms are exclusively taken from the Greek, but +as experience tells that plain men in England have a special dread of +suchlike, I have substituted “imprint” for “engram,” “outcome” for +“ecphoria”; for the latter term I had thought of “efference,” +“manifestation,” etc., but decided on what looked more homely, and at the +same time was quite distinctive enough to avoid that confusion which +Semon has dodged with his Græcisms. + +{0l} “Between the ‘me’ of to-day and the ‘me’ of yesterday lie night and +sleep, abysses of unconsciousness; nor is there any bridge but memory +with which to span them.”—_Unconscious Memory_, p. 71. + +{0m} Preface by Mr. Charles Darwin to “Erasmus Darwin.” The Museum has +copies of a _Kosmos_ that was published 1857–60 and then discontinued; +but this is clearly not the _Kosmos_ referred to by Mr. Darwin, which +began to appear in 1878. + +{0n} Preface to “Erasmus Darwin.” + +{2} May 1880. + +{3} _Kosmos_, February 1879, Leipsic. + +{4} Origin of Species, ed. i., p. 459. + +{8a} Origin of Species, ed. i., p. 1. + +{8b} _Kosmos_, February 1879, p. 397. + +{8c} Erasmus Darwin, by Ernest Krause, pp. 132, 133. + +{9a} Origin of Species, ed. i., p. 242. + +{9b} Ibid., p. 427. + +{10a} _Nineteenth Century_, November 1878; Evolution, Old and New, pp. +360. 361. + +{10b} Encyclopædia Britannica, ed. ix., art. “Evolution,” p. 748. + +{11} Ibid. + +{17} Encycl. Brit., ed. ix., art. “Evolution,” p. 750. + +{23a} Origin of Species, 6th ed., 1876, p. 206. + +{23b} Ibid., p. 233. + +{24a} Origin of Species, 6th ed., p. 171, 1876. + +{24b} Pp. 258–260. + +{26} Zoonomia, vol. i. p. 484; Evolution, Old and New, p. 214. + +{27} “Erasmus Darwin,” by Ernest Krause, p. 211, London, 1879. + +{28a} See “Evolution, Old and New,” p. 91, and Buffon, tom. iv. p. 383, +ed. 1753. + +{28b} Evolution, Old and New, p. 104. + +{29a} Encycl. Brit., 9th ed., art. “Evolution,” p. 748. + +{29b} Palingénésie Philosophique, part x. chap. ii. (quoted from +Professor Huxley’s article on “Evolution,” Encycl. Brit., 9th ed., p. +745). + +{31} The note began thus: “I have taken the date of the first +publication of Lamarck from Isidore Geoffroy St. Hilaire’s (Hist. Nat. +Générale tom. ii. p. 405, 1859) excellent history of opinion upon this +subject. In this work a full account is given of Buffon’s fluctuating +conclusions upon the same subject.”—_Origin of Species_, 3d ed., 1861, p. +xiv. + +{33a} Life of Erasmus Darwin, pp. 84, 85. + +{33b} See Life and Habit, p. 264 and pp. 276, 277. + +{33c} See Evolution, Old and New, pp. 159–165. + +{33d} Ibid., p. 122. + +{34} See Evolution, Old and New, pp. 247, 248. + +{35a} Vestiges of Creation, ed. 1860, “Proofs, Illustrations, &c.,” p. +lxiv. + +{35b} The first announcement was in the _Examiner_, February 22, 1879. + +{36} _Saturday Review_, May 31, 1879. + +{37a} May 26, 1879. + +{37b} May 31, 1879. + +{37c} July 26, 1879. + +{37d} July 1879. + +{37e} July 1879. + +{37f} July 29, 1879. + +{37g} January 1880. + +{39} How far _Kosmos_ was “a well-known” journal, I cannot determine. +It had just entered upon its second year. + +{41} Evolution, Old and New, p. 120, line 5. + +{43} _Kosmos_, February 1879, p. 397. + +{44a} _Kosmos_, February 1879, p. 404. + +{44b} Page 39 of this volume. + +{50} See Appendix A. + +{52} Since published as “God the Known and God the Unknown.” Fifield, +1s. 6d. net. 1909. + +{54a} “Contemplation of Nature,” Engl. trans., Lond. 1776. Preface, p. +xxxvi. + +{54b} _Ibid._, p. xxxviii. + +{55} Life and Habit, p. 97. + +{56} “The Unity of the Organic Individual,” by Edward Montgomery, +_Mind_, October 1880, p. 466. + +{58} Life and Habit, p. 237. + +{59a} Discourse on the Study of Natural Philosophy. Lardner’s Cab. +Cyclo., vol. xcix. p. 24. + +{59b} Young’s Lectures on Natural Philosophy, ii. 627. See also Phil. +Trans., 1801–2. + +{63} The lecture is published by Karl Gerold’s Sohn, Vienna. + +{69} See quotation from Bonnet, p. 54 of this volume. + +{70} Professor Hering is not clear here. Vibrations (if I understand +his theory rightly) should not be set up by faint _stimuli_ from within. +Whence and what are these _stimuli_? The vibrations within are already +existing, and it is they which are the _stimuli_ to action. On having +been once set up, they either continue in sufficient force to maintain +action, or they die down, and become too weak to cause further action, +and perhaps even to be perceived within the mind, until they receive an +accession of vibration from without. The only “stimulus from within” +that should be able to generate action is that which may follow when a +vibration already established in the body runs into another similar +vibration already so established. On this consciousness, and even +action, might be supposed to follow without the presence of an external +stimulus. + +{71} This expression seems hardly applicable to the overtaking of an +internal by an external vibration, but it is not inconsistent with it. +Here, however, as frequently elsewhere, I doubt how far Professor Hering +has fully realised his conception, beyond being, like myself, convinced +that the phenomena of memory and of heredity have a common source. + +{72} See quotation from Bonnet, p. 54 of this volume. By “preserving +the memory of habitual actions” Professor Hering probably means, retains +for a long while and repeats motion of a certain character when such +motion has been once communicated to it. + +{74a} It should not be “if the central nerve system were not able to +reproduce whole series of vibrations,” but “if whole series of vibrations +do not persist though unperceived,” if Professor Hering intends what I +suppose him to intend. + +{74b} Memory was in full operation for so long a time before anything +like what we call a nervous system can be detected, that Professor Hering +must not be supposed to be intending to confine memory to a motor nerve +system. His words do not even imply that he does, but it is as well to +be on one’s guard. + +{77} It is from such passages as this, and those that follow on the next +few pages, that I collect the impression of Professor Hering’s meaning +which I have endeavoured to convey in the preceding chapter. + +{78} That is to say, “an infinitely small change in the kind of +vibration communicated from the parent to the germ.” + +{79} It may be asked what is meant by responding. I may repeat that I +understand Professor Hering to mean that there exists in the offspring +certain vibrations, which are many of them too faint to upset equilibrium +and thus generate action, until they receive an accession of force from +without by the running into them of vibrations of similar characteristics +to their own, which last vibrations have been set up by exterior objects. +On this they become strong enough to generate that corporeal earthquake +which we call action. + +This may be true or not, but it is at any rate intelligible; whereas much +that is written about “fraying channels” raises no definite ideas in the +mind. + +{80a} I interpret this, “We cannot wonder if often-repeated vibrations +gather strength, and become at once more lasting and requiring less +accession of vibration from without, in order to become strong enough to +generate action.” + +{80b} “Characteristics” must, I imagine, according to Professor Hering, +resolve themselves ultimately into “vibrations,” for the characteristics +depend upon the character of the vibrations. + +{81} Professor Hartog tells me that this probably refers to Fritz +Müller’s formulation of the “recapitulation process” in “Facts for +Darwin,” English edition (1869), p. 114.—R.A.S. + +{82} This is the passage which makes me suppose Professor Hering to mean +that vibrations from exterior objects run into vibrations already +existing within the living body, and that the accession to power thus +derived is his key to an explanation of the physical basis of action. + +{84} I interpret this: “There are fewer vibrations persistent within the +bodies of the lower animals; those that there are, therefore, are +stronger and more capable of generating action or upsetting the _status +in quo_. Hence also they require less accession of vibration from +without. Man is agitated by more and more varied vibrations; these, +interfering, as to some extent they must, with one another, are weaker, +and therefore require more accession from without before they can set the +mechanical adjustments of the body in motion.” + +{89} I am obliged to Mr. Sully for this excellent translation of +“Hellsehen.” + +{90a} _Westminster Review_, New Series, vol. xlix. p. 143. + +{90b} Ibid., p. 145. + +{90c} Ibid., p. 151. + +{92a} “Instinct ist zweckmässiges Handeln ohne Bewusstsein des +Zwecks.”—_Philosophy of the Unconscious_, 3d ed., Berlin, 1871, p. 70. + +{92b} “1. Eine blosse Folge der körperlichen Organisation. + +“2. Ein von der Natur eingerichteter Gehirn-oder Geistesmechanismus. + +“3. Eine Folge unbewusster Geistesthiitigkeit.”—_Philosophy of the +Unconscious_, 3d ed., p. 70. + +{97} “Hiermit ist der Annahme das Urtheil gesprochen, welche die +unbewusste Vorstellung des Zwecks in jedem einzelnen Falle vorwiegt; denn +wollte man nun noch die Vorstellung des Geistesmechanismus festhalten so +müsste für jede Variation und Modification des Instincts, nach den +äusseren Umständen, eine besondere constante Vorrichtung . . . eingefügt +sein.”—_Philosophy of the Unconscious_ 3d ed., p. 74. + +{99} “Indessen glaube ich, dass die angeführten Beispiele zur Genüge +beweisen, dass es auch viele Fälle giebt, wo ohne jede Complication mit +der bewussten Ueberlegung die gewöhnliche und aussergewöhnliche Handlung +aus derselben Quelle stammen, dass sie entweder beide wirklicher +Instinct, oder beide Resultate bewusster Ueberlegung sind.”—_Philosophy +of the Unconscious_, 3d ed., p. 76. + +{100} “Dagegen haben wir nunmehr unseren Blick noch einmal schärfer auf +den Begriff eines psychischen Mechanismus zu richten, und da zeigt sich, +dass derselbe, abgesehen davon, wie viel er erklärt, so dunke list, dass +man sich kaum etwas dabei denken kann.”—_Philosophy of the Unconscious_, +3d ed., p. 76. + +{101} “Das Endglied tritt als bewusster Wille zu irgend einer Handlung +auf; beide sind aber ganz ungleichartig und haben mit der gewöhnlichen +Motivation nichts zu thun, welche ausschliesslich darin besteht, dass die +Vorstellung einer Lust oder einer Unlust das Begehren erzeugr, erstere zu +erlangen, letztere sich fern zu halten.”—_Ibid._, p. 76. + +{102a} “Diese causale Verbindung fällt erfahrungsmässig, wie wir von +unsern menschlichen Instincten wissen, nicht in’s Bewussisein; folglich +kann dieselbe, wenn sie ein Mechanismus sein soll, nur entweder ein nicht +in’s Bewusstsein fallende mechanische Leitung und Umwandlung der +Schwingungen des vorgestellten Motivs in die Schwingungen der gewollten +Handlung im Gehirn, oder ein unbewusster geistiger Mechanismus +sein.”—_Philosophy of the Unconscious_ 3d ed., p. 77. + +{102b} “Man hat sich also zwischen dem bewussten Motiv, und dem Willen +zur Insticthandlung eine causale Verbindung durch unbewusstes Vorstellen +und Wollen zu denken, und ich weiss nicht, wie diese Verbindung einfacher +gedacht werden könnte, als durch den vorgestellten und gewollten Zweck. +Damit sind wir aber bei dem allen Geistern eigenthümlichen und immanenten +Mechanismus der Logik angelangt, und haben die unbewusster +Zweckvorstellung bei jeder einzelnen Instincthandlung als unentbehrliches +Glied gefunden; hiermit hat also der Begrift des todten, äusserlich +prädestinirten Geistesmechanismus sich selbst aufgehoben und in das +immanente Geistesleben der Logik umgewandelt, und wir sind bei der +letzten Möglichkeit angekommen, welche für die Auffassung eines +wirklichen Instincts übrig bleibt: der Instinct ist bewusstes Wollen des +Mittels zu einem unbewusst gewollten Zweck.”—_Philosophy of the +Unconscious_, 3d ed., p. 78. + +{105a} “Also der Instinct ohne Hülfsmechanismus die Ursache der +Entstehung des Hülfsmechanismus ist.”—_Philosophy of the Unconscious_, 3d +ed., p. 79. + +{105b} “Dass auch der fertige Hülfsmechanismus das Unbewusste nicht etwa +zu dieser bestimmten Instincthandlung necessirt, sondern blosse +prädisponirt.”—_Philosophy of the Unconscious_, 3d ed., p. 79. + +{105c} “Giebt es einen wirklichen Instinct, oder sind die sogenannten +Instincthandlungen nur Resultate bewusster Ueberlegung?”—_Philosophy of +the Unconscious_, 3d ed., p. 79. + +{111} “Dieser Beweis ist dadurch zu führen; erstens dass die +betreffenden Thatsachen in; der Zukunft liegen, und dem Verstande die +Anhaltepunkte fehlen, um ihr zukünftiges Eintreten aus den gegenwärtigen +Verhältnissen zu erschliessen; zweitens, dass die betreffenden Thatsachen +augenscheinlich der sinnlichen Wahrnehmung verschlossen liegen, weil nur +die Erfahrung früherer Fälle über sie belehren kann, und diese laut der +Beobachtung ausgeschlossen ist. Es würde für unsere Interessen keinen +Unterschied machen, wenn, was ich wahrscheinlich halte, bei +fortschreitender physiologischer Erkenntniss alle jetzt für den ersten +Fall anzuführenden Beispiele sich als solche des zweiten Falls ausweisen +sollten, wie dies unleugbar bei vielen früher gebrauchten Beispielen +schon geschehen ist; denn ein apriorisches Wissen ohne jeden sinnlichen +Anstoss ist wohl kaum wunderbarer zu nennen, als ein Wissen, welches zwar +_bei Gelegenheit_ gewisser sinnlicher Wahrnehmung zu Tage tritt, aber mit +diesen nur durch eine solche Kette von Schlüssen und angewandten +Kenntnissen in Verbindung stehend gedacht werden könnte, dass deren +Möglichkeit bei dem Zustande der Fähigkeiten und Bildung der betreffenden +Thiere entschieden geleugnet werden muss.”—_Philosophy of the +Unconscious_, 3d ed., p. 85. + +{113} “Man hat dieselbe jederzeit anerkannt und mit den Worten Vorgefühl +oder Ahnung bezeichnet; indess beziehen sich diese Wörte einerseits nur +auf zukünftiges, nicht auf gegenwärtiges, räumlich getrenntes +Unwahmehrnbares, anderseits bezeichnen sie nur die leise, dumpfe, +unbestimmte Resonanz des Bewusstseins mit dem unfehlbar bestimmten +Zustande der unbewussten Erkenntniss. Daher das Wort Vorgefühl in +Rücksicht auf die Dumpfheit und Unbestimmtheit, während doch leicht zu +sehen ist, dass das von allen, auch den unbewussten Vorstellungen +entblösste Gefühl für das Resultat gar keinen Einfluss haben kann, +sondern nur eine Vorstellung, weil diese allein Erkenntniss enthält. Die +in Bewusstsein mitklingende Ahnung kann allerdings unter Umständen +ziemlich deutlich sein, so dass sie sich beim Menschen in Gedanken und +Wort fixiren lässt; doch ist dies auch im Menschen erfahrungsmässig bei +den eigenthümlichen Instincten nicht der Fall, vielmehr ist bei diesen +die Resonanz der unbewussten Erkenntniss im Bewusstsein meistens so +schwach, dass sie sich wirklich nur in begleitenden Gefühlen oder der +Stimmung äussert, dass sie einen unendlich kleinen Bruchtheil des +Gemeingefühls bildet.”—_Philosophy of the Unconscious_, 3d ed., p. 86. + +{115a} “In der Bestimmung des Willens durch einen im Unbewussten +liegenden Process . . . für welchen sich dieser Character der +zweifellosen Selbstgewissheit in allen folgenden Untersuchungen bewähren +wird.”—_Philosophy of the Unconscious_, p. 87. + +{115b} “Sondern als unmittelbarer Besitz vorgefunden wird.”—_Philosophy +of the Unconscious_, p. 87. + +{115c} “Hellsehen.” + +{119a} “Das Hellsehon des Unbewussten hat sie den rechten Weg ahnen +lassen.”—_Philosophy of the Unconscious_, p. 90, 3d ed., 1871. + +{119b} “Man wird doch wahrlich nicht den Thieren zumuthen wollen, durch +meteorologische Schlüsse das Wetter auf Monate im Voraus zu berechnen, ja +sogar Ueberschwemmungen vorauszusehen. Vielmehr ist eine solche +Gefühlswahrnehmung gegenwärtiger atmosphärischer Einflüsse nichts weiter +als die sinnliche Wahrnehmung, welche als Motiv wirkt, und ein Motiv muss +ja doch immer vorhanden sein, wenn ein Instinct functioniren soll. Es +bleibt also trotzdem bestehen dass das Voraussehen der Witterung ein +unbewusstes Hellsehen ist, von dem der Storch, der vier Wochen früher +nach Süden aufbricht, so wenig etwas weiss, als der Hirsch, der sich vor +einem kalten Winter einen dickeren Pelz als gewöhnlich wachsen lässt. +Die Thiere haben eben einerseits das gegenwärtige Witterungsgefühl im +Bewusstsein, daraus folgt andererseits ihr Handeln gerade so, als ob sie +die Vorstellung der zukünftigen Witterung hätten; im Bewusstsein haben +sie dieselbe aber nicht, also bietet sich als einzig natürliches +Mittelglied die unbewusste Vorstellung, die nun aber immer ein Hellsehen +ist, weil sie etwas enthält, was dem Thier weder dutch sinnliche +Wahrnehmung direct gegeben ist, noch durch seine Verstandesmittel aus der +Wahrnehmung geschlossen werden kann.”—_Philosophy of the Unconscious_, p. +91, 3d ed., 1871. + +{124} “Meistentheils tritt aber hier der höheren Bewusstseinstufe der +Menschen entsprechend eine stärkete Resonanz des Bewusstseins mit dem +bewussten Hellsehen hervor, die sich also mehr odor minder deutliche +Ahnung darstellt. Ausserdem entspricht es der grösseren +Selbstständigkeit des menschlichen Intellects, dass diese Ahnung nicht +ausschliesslich Behufs der unmittelbaren Ausführung einer Handlung +eintritt, sondern bisweilen auch unabängig von der Bedingung einer +momentan zu leistenden That als blosse Vorstellung ohne bewussten Willen +sich zeigte, wenn nur die Bedingung erfüllt ist, dass der Gegenstand +dieses Ahnens den Willen des Ahnenden im Allgemeinen in hohem Grade +interessirt.”—_Philosophy of the Unconscious_, 3d ed., p. 94. + +{126} “Häufig sind die Ahnungen, in denen das Hellsehen des Unbewussten +sich dem Bewusstsein offenbart, dunkel, unverständlich und symbolisch, +weil sie im Gehirn sinnliche Form annehmen müssen, während die unbewusste +Vorstellung an der Form der Sinnlichkeit kein Theil haben +kann.”—_Philosophy of the Unconscious_, 3d ed., p. 96. + +{128} “Ebenso weil es diese Reihe nur in gesteigerter +Bewusstseinresonanz fortsetzt, stützt es jene Aussagen der +Instincthandlungen üher ihr eigenes Wesen ebenso sehr,” &c.—_Philosophy +of the Unconscious_, 3d ed., p. 97. + +{129} “Wir werden trotzdem diese gomeinsame Wirkung eines +Masseninstincts in der Entstehung der Sprache und den grossen politischen +und socialen Bewegungen in der Woltgeschichte deutlich wieder erkennen; +hier handelt es sich um möglichst einfache und deutliche Beispiele, und +darum greifen wir zu niederen Thieren, wo die Mittel der +Gedankenmittheilung bei fehlender Stimme, Mimik und Physiognomie so +unvollkommen sind, dass die Uebereinstimmung und das Ineinandergreifen +der einzelnen Leistungen in den Hauptsachen unmöglich der bewussten +Verständigung durch Sprache zugeschrieben werden darf.”—_Philosophy of +the Unconscious_, 3d ed., p. 98. + +{131a} “Und wie durch Instinct dot Plan des ganzen Stocks in unbewusstem +Hellsehen jeder einzelnen Biene einwohnt.”—_Philosophy of the +Unconscious_, 3d ed., p. 99. + +{131b} “Indem jedes Individuum den Plan des Ganzen und Sämmtliche +gegenwartig zu ergreifende Mittel im unbewussten Hellsehen hat, wovon +aber nut das Eine, was ihm zu thun obliegt, in sein Bewusstsein +fällt.”—_Philosophy of the Unconscious_, 3d ed., p. 99. + +{132} “Der Instinct ist nicht Resultat bewusster Ueberlegung, nicht +Folge der körperlichen Organisation, nicht blosses Resultat eines in der +Organisation des Gehirns gelegenen Mechanismus, nicht Wirkung eines dem +Geiste von aussen angeklebten todten, seinem innersten Wesen fremden +Mechanismus, sondern selbsteigene Leistung des Individuum aus seinem +innersten Wesen und Character entspringend.”—_Philosophy of the +Unconscious_, 3d ed., p. 100. + +{133} “Häufig ist die Kenntniss des Zwecks der bewussten Erkenntniss +durch sinnliche Wahrnehmung gar nicht zugänglich; dann documentirt sich +die Eigenthümlichkeit des Unbewussten im Hellsehen, von welchem das +Bewusstsein theils nar eine verschwindend dumpfe, theils auch namentlich +beim Menschen mehr oder minder deutliche Resonanz als Ahnung +verspütt.”—_Philosophy of the Unconscious_, 3d ed., p. 100. + +{135} “Und eine so dämonische Gewalt sollte durch etwas ausgeübt werden +könnon, was als ein dem inneren Wesen fremder Mechanismus dem Geiste +aufgepfropft ist, oder gar durch eine bewusste Ueberlegung, welche doch +stets nur im kahlen Egoismus stecken bleibt,” &c.—_Philosophy of the +Unconscious_, 3d ed., p. 101. + +{139a} Page 100 of this vol. + +{139b} Pp. 106, 107 of this vol. + +{140} Page 100 of this vol. + +{141} Page 99 of this vol. + +{144a} See page 115 of this volume. + +{144b} Page 104 of this vol. + +{146} The Spirit of Nature. J. A. Churchill & Co., 1880, p. 39. + +{149} I have put these words into the mouth of my supposed objector, and +shall put others like them, because they are characteristic; but nothing +can become so well known as to escape being an inference. + +{153} Erewhon, chap. xxiii. + +{160} It must be remembered that this passage is put as if in the mouth +of an objector. + +{177a} “The Unity of the Organic Individual,” by Edward Montgomery. +_Mind_, October 1880, p. 477. + +{177b} Ibid., p. 483. + +{179a} Professor Huxley, Encycl. Brit., 9th ed., art. Evolution, p. +750. + +{179b} “Hume,” by Professor Huxley, p. 45. + +{180} “The Philosophy of Crayfishes,” by the Right Rev. the Lord Bishop +of Carlisle. _Nineteenth Century_ for October 1880, p. 636. + +{181a} Les Amours des Plantes, p. 360. Paris, 1800. + +{181b} Philosophie Zoologique, tom. i. p. 231. Ed. M. Martin. Paris, +1873. + +{182a} Journal of the Proceedings of the Linnean Society. Williams & +Norgate, 1858, p. 61. + +{182b} Contributions to the Theory of Natural Selection, 2d ed., 1871, +p. 41. + +{182c} Origin of Species, p. 1, ed. 1872. + +{183a} Origin of Species, 6th ed., p. 206. I ought in fairness to Mr. +Darwin to say that he does not hold the error to be quite as serious as +he once did. It is now “a serious error” only; in 1859 it was “the most +serious error.”—Origin of Species, 1st ed., p. 209. + +{183b} Origin of Species, 1st ed., p. 242; 6th ed., p. 233. + +{184a} I never could find what these particular points were. + +{184b} Isidore Geoffroy, Hist. Nat. Gen., tom. ii. p. 407, 1859. + +{184c} M. Martin’s edition of the “Philosophie Zoologique” (Paris, +1873), Introduction, p. vi. + +{184d} Encyclopædia Britannica, 9th ed., p. 750. + + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK UNCONSCIOUS MEMORY*** + + +******* This file should be named 6605-0.txt or 6605-0.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/6/6/0/6605 + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part +of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +concept and trademark. 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