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diff --git a/old/66177-0.txt b/old/66177-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 48fa56e..0000000 --- a/old/66177-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8584 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Half Hours with Modern Scientists, by T. H. -Huxley - -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 -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Half Hours with Modern Scientists - -Author: T. H. Huxley - G. F. Barker - James Hutchinson Sterling - E. D. Cope - John Tyndall - -Release Date: August 30, 2021 [eBook #66177] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: deaurider, Barry Abrahamsen, and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was - produced from images generously made available by The Internet - Archive) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HALF HOURS WITH MODERN -SCIENTISTS *** - - - HALF HOURS - - WITH - - MODERN SCIENTISTS. - - - LECTURES AND ESSAYS - - - BY - - PROFS. HUXLEY, BARKER, STIRLING, COPE AND TYNDALL. - - - WITH - - - A GENERAL INTRODUCTION - - - BY - - NOAH PORTER, D.D., LL.D., - - PRESIDENT OF YALE COLLEGE. - - - - FIRST SERIES. - - -[Illustration] - - - - NEW HAVEN, CONN.: - CHARLES C. CHATFIELD & CO., - 1872. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - ──────────────────────────── - Entered according to act of Congress, in the year 1872, by - - CHARLES C. CHATFIELD & CO., - - In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C. - ──────────────────────────── - - - - - ────────────── - NEW HAVEN, CONN.: - THE COLLEGE COURANT PRINT. - ────────────── - - - - - ────────────────── - Electrotyped by E. B. Sheldon, New Haven, Conn. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CONTENTS. - - GENERAL INTRODUCTION. BY PREST. PORTER, v - - ON THE PHYSICAL BASIS OF LIFE. 1 - PROF. T. H. HUXLEY, - - CORRELATION OF VITAL AND PHYSICAL 37 - FORCES. - PROF. G. F. BARKER, M.D., - - AS REGARDS PROTOPLASM—REPLY TO HUXLEY. 73 - JAMES HUTCHISON STIRLING, - - ON THE HYPOTHESIS OF EVOLUTION. 145 - PROF. E. D. COPE, - - SCIENTIFIC ADDRESSES. - - ON THE METHODS AND TENDENCIES OF 219 - PHYSICAL INVESTIGATION, - - ON HAZE AND DUST, 234 - - ON THE SCIENTIFIC USE OF THE 247 - IMAGINATION, - - PROF. JOHN TYNDALL, LL.D., F.R.S., 217 - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - INTRODUCTION TO THE NEW EDITION OF HALF HOURS WITH MODERN SCIENTISTS. - - -The title of this Series of Essays—_Half Hours with Modern -Scientists_—suggests a variety of thoughts, some of which may not be -inappropriate for a brief introduction to a new edition. _Scientist_ is -a modern appellation which has been specially selected to designate a -devotee to one or more branches of physical science. Strictly -interpreted it might properly be applied to the student of any -department of knowledge when prosecuted in a scientific method, but for -convenience it is limited to the student of some branch of physics. It -is not thereby conceded that nature, _i.e._, physical or material nature -is any more legitimately or exclusively the field for scientific -enquiries than spirit, or that whether the objects of science are -material or spiritual, the assumptions and processes of science -themselves should not be subjected to scientific analysis and -justification. There are so-called philosophers who adopt both these -conclusions. There are those who reason and dogmatize as though nature -were synonymous with matter, or as though spirit, if there be such an -essence, must be conceived and explained after the principles and -analogies of matter;—others assume that a science of scientific method -can be nothing better than the mist or moonshine which they vilify by -the name of metaphysics. But unfortunately for such opinions the fact is -constantly forced upon the attention of scientists of every description, -that the agent by which they examine matter is more than matter, and -that this agent, whatever be its substance, asserts its prerogatives to -determine the conceptions which the scientist forms of matter as well as -to the methods by which he investigates material properties. Even the -positivist philosopher who not only denounces metaphysics as -illegitimate, but also contends that the metaphysical era of human -inquiry, has in the development of scientific progress been outgrown -like the measles, which is experienced but once in a life-time; finds -when his positivist theory is brought to the test that positivism itself -in its very problem and its solutions, is but the last adopted -metaphysical theory of science. - -We also notice that it is very difficult, if not impossible, for the -inquisitive scientist to limit himself strictly to the object-matter of -his own chosen field, and not to enquire more or less earnestly—not -infrequently to dogmatize more or less positively—respecting the results -of other sciences and even respecting the foundations and processes of -scientific inquiry itself. Thus Mr. Huxley in the first Essay of this -Series on _The Physical Basis of Life_, leaves the discussion of his -appropriate theme in order to deliver sundry very positive and -pronounced assertions respecting the “limits of philosophical inquiry,” -and quotes with manifest satisfaction a dictum of David Hume that is -sufficiently dogmatic and positive, as to what these limits are. In more -than one of his Lay sermons, he rushes headlong into the most pronounced -assertions in respect to the nature of matter and of spirit. The -eloquent Tyndall, in No. 5, expounds at length _The Methods and -Tendencies of Physical Investigation_ and discourses eloquently, if -occasionally somewhat poetically, of _The Scientific use of the -Imagination_. But Messrs. Huxley and Tyndall are eminent examples of -scientists who are severely and successfully devoted respectively to -physiology and the higher physics. No one will contend that they have -not faithfully cultivated their appropriate fields of inquiry. The fact -that neither can be content to confine himself within his special field, -forcibly illustrates the tendency of every modern science to concern -itself with its relations to its neighbors, and the unresistible -necessity which forces the most rigid physicist to become a -metaphysician in spite of himself. So much for the appellation -“_Scientists_.” - -“_Half Hours_” suggests the very natural inquiry—What can a scientist -communicate in half an hour, especially to a reader who may be ignorant -of the elements of the science which he would expound? Does not the -phrase _Half Hours with Modern Scientists_ stultify itself and suggest -the folly of any attempt to treat of science with effect in a series of -essays? In reply we would ask the attention of the reader to the -following considerations. - -The tendency is universal among the scientific men of all nations, to -present the principles of science in such brief summaries or statements -as may bring them within the reach of common readers. The tendency -indicates that there is a large body of readers who are so far -instructed in the elements of science as to be able to understand these -summaries. In England, Germany, France and this country such brief -essays are abundant, either in the form of contributions to popular and -scientific journals, or in that of popular lectures, or in that of brief -manuals, or of monographs on separate topics; especially such topics as -are novel, or are interesting to the public for their theoretic -brilliancy, or their applications to industry and art. - -These essays need not be and they are not always superficial, because -they are brief. They often are the more profound on account of their -conciseness, as when they contain a condensed summary of the main -principles of the art or science in question, or a brief history of the -successive experiments which have issued in some brilliant discovery. -These essays are very generally read, even though they are both concise -and profound. But they could not be read even though they were less -profound than they are, were there not provided a numerous company of -readers who are sufficiently instructed in science to appreciate them. -That such a body of readers exists in the countries referred to, is -easily explained by the existence of public schools and schools of -science and technology, by the enormous extension of the knowledge of -machinery, engineering, mining, dyeing, etc., etc., all of which imply a -more or less distinct recognition of scientific principles and stimulate -the curiosity in regard to scientific truth. Popular lectures also, -illustrated by experiments, have been repeated before thousands of -excited listeners, and the eager and inventive minds of multitudes of -ingenious youths have been trained by this distribution of science, to -the capacity to comprehend the compact and pointed scientific essay, -even though it taxes the attention and suspends the breath for a -half-hour by its closeness and severity. - -The fact is also worthy of notice, that many of the ablest scientists of -our times have made a special study of the art of expounding and -presenting scientific truth. Some of them have schooled themselves to -that lucid and orderly method by which a science seems to spring into -being a second time, under the creative hand of its skilful expositor. -Others have made a special study of philosophic diction. Others have -learned how to adorn scientific truth with the embellishments of an -affluent imagination. Some of the ablest writers of our time are found -among the devotees of physical science. That a few scientific writers -and lecturers may have exemplified some of the most offensive features -of the demagogue and the sophist cannot be denied, but we may not forget -that many have attained to the consummate skill of the accomplished -essayist and impressive and eloquent orator. - -One advantage cannot be denied of this now popular and established -method of setting forth scientific truth, viz., that it prescribes a -convenient method of bringing into contrast the arguments _for_ and -_against_ any disputed position in science. If materialism can furnish -its ready advocate with a convenient vehicle for its ready diffusion, -the antagonist theory can avail itself of a similar vehicle for the -communication of the decisive and pungent reply. The one is certain to -call forth the other, and if the two are present side by side in the -same series, so much the better is it for the truth and so much the -worse for the error. The teacher before his class, the lecturer in the -presence of his audience, has the argument usually to himself; he allows -few questionings and admits no reply. An erroneous theory may entrench -itself within a folio against arguments which would annihilate its -positions if these were condensed in a tract. - -This consideration should dispel all the alarm that is felt by the -defenders of religion in view of the general diffusion of popular -scientific treatises. The brief statement of a false or groundless -scientific theory, even by its defender, is often its most effectual -refutation. A magnificently imposing argument often shrinks into -insignificance when its advocate is forced to state its substance in a -compact and close-jointed outline. The articulations are seen to be -defective, the joints do not fit one another, the coherence is -conspicuously wanting. Let then error do its utmost in the field of -science. Its deficient data and its illogical processes are certain to -be exposed, sometimes even by its own advocates. If this does not happen -the defender of that scientific truth which seems to be essential to the -teachings and faiths of religion, must scrutinize its reasonings by the -rules and methods of scientific inquiry. If science seems to be hostile -to religion, this very seeming should arouse the defender of Theism and -Christianity to examine into the grounds both by the light and methods -which are appropriate to science itself. The more brief and compact and -popular is the argument which he is to refute, the more feasible is the -task of exposure and reply. Only let this be a cardinal maxim with the -defender of the truth, that whatever is scientifically defended and -maintained must be scientifically refuted and overthrown. The great -Master of our faith never uttered a more comprehensive or a grander -maxim than the memorable words, “_To this end was I born and for this -cause came I into the world, that I should bear witness unto the truth. -Everyone that is of the truth heareth my voice._” It would be easy to -show that the belief in moral and religious truth and the freedom in -searching for and defending it which was inspired by these words have -been most efficient in training the human mind to that faith in the -results of scientific investigation which characterize the modern -scientist. That Christian believer must either have a very imperfect -view of the spirit of his own faith, or a very narrow conception of the -evidences and the effect of its teachings, who imagines that the freest -spirit of scientific inquiry, or the most penetrating insight into the -secrets of matter or of spirit can have any other consequence than to -strengthen and brighten the evidence for Christian truth. - - N. P. - - YALE COLLEGE, _May_, 1872. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - PUBLISHERS’ NOTE TO SECOND EDITION. - - -The five lectures embodied in this First Series of Half Hours with -Modern Scientists were first published as Nos. I.—V. of the University -Scientific Series. In this series the publishers have aimed to give to -the public in a cheap pamphlet form, the advance thought in the -Scientific world. The intrinsic value of these lectures has created a -very general desire to have them put in a permanent form. They therefore -have brought them out in this style. Each five succeeding numbers of -this celebrated series will be printed and bound in uniform style with -this volume, and be designated as second series, third series, and so -on. Henceforth it will be the design of the publishers to give -preference to those lectures and essays of American scientists which -contain original research and discovery, rather than to reprinting from -European sources. The lectures in the second series will be (1) On -Natural Selection as Applied to Man, by Alfred Russel Wallace; (2) three -profoundly interesting lectures on Spectrum Analysis, by Profs. Roscoe, -Huggins, and Lockyer; (3) the Sun and its Different Atmospheres, a -lecture by Prof. C. A. Young, Ph.D., of Dartmouth College; (4) the Earth -a great Magnet, by Prof. A. M. Mayer, Ph.D., of Stevens Institute; and -(5) the Mysteries of the Voice and Ear, by Prof. Ogden N. Rood, of -Columbia College. The last three lectures contain many original -discoveries and brilliant experiments, and are finely illustrated. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - ────────────── - _ON THE PHYSICAL BASIS OF LIFE._ - ────────────── - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - INTRODUCTION. - - -The following remarkable discourse was originally delivered in -Edinburgh, November 18th, 1868, as the first of a series of Sunday -evening addresses, upon non-religious topics, instituted by the Rev. J. -Cranbrook. It was subsequently published in London as the leading -article in the _Fortnightly Review_, for February, 1869, and attracted -so much attention that five editions of that number of the magazine have -already been issued. It is now re-printed in this country, in permanent -form, for the first time, and will doubtless prove of great interest to -American readers. The author is Thomas Henry Huxley, of London, -Professor of Natural History in the Royal School of Mines, and of -Comparative Anatomy and Physiology in the Royal College of Surgeons. He -is also President of the Geological Society of London. Although -comparatively a young man, his numerous and valuable contributions to -Natural Science entitle him to be considered one of the first of living -Naturalists, especially in the departments of Zoölogy and Paleontology, -to which he has mainly devoted himself. He is undoubtedly the ablest -English advocate of Darwin’s theory of the Origin of Species, -particularly with reference to its application to the human race, which -he believes to be nearly related to the higher apes. It is, indeed, -through his discussion of this question that he is, perhaps, best known -to the general public, as his late work entitled “Man’s Place in -Nature,” and other writings on similar topics, have been very widely -read in this country and in Europe. In the present lecture Professor -Huxley discusses a kindred subject of no less interest and importance, -and should have an equally candid hearing. - -YALE COLLEGE, _March_ 30_th_, 1869. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - On the Physical Basis of Life. - - -In order to make the title of this discourse generally intelligible, I -have translated the term “Protoplasm,” which is the scientific name of -the substance of which I am about to speak, by the words “the physical -basis of life.” I suppose that, to many, the idea that there is such a -thing as a physical basis, or matter, of life may be novel—so widely -spread is the conception of life as a something which works through -matter, but is independent of it; and even those who are aware that -matter and life are inseparably connected, may not be prepared for the -conclusion plainly suggested by the phrase “the physical basis or matter -of life,” that there is some one kind of matter which is common to all -living beings, and that their endless diversities are bound together by -a physical, as well as an ideal, unity. In fact, when first apprehended, -such a doctrine as this appears almost shocking to common sense. What, -truly, can seem to be more obviously different from one another in -faculty, in form, and in substance, than the various kinds of living -beings? What community of faculty can there be between the -brightly-colored lichen, which so nearly resembles a mere mineral -incrustation of the bare rock on which it grows, and the painter, to -whom it is instinct with beauty, or the botanist, whom it feeds with -knowledge? - -Again, think of the microscopic fungus—a mere infinitesimal ovoid -particle, which finds space and duration enough to multiply into -countless millions in the body of a living fly; and then of the wealth -of foliage, the luxuriance of flower and fruit, which lies between this -bald sketch of a plant and the giant pine of California, towering to the -dimensions of a cathedral spire, or the Indian fig, which covers acres -with its profound shadow, and endures while nations and empires come and -go around its vast circumference! Or, turning to the other half of the -world of life, picture to yourselves the great finner whale, hugest of -beasts that live, or have lived, disporting his eighty or ninety feet of -bone, muscle and blubber, with easy roll, among waves in which the -stoutest ship that ever left dockyard would founder hopelessly; and -contrast him with the invisible animalcules—mere gelatinous specks, -multitudes of which could, in fact, dance upon the point of a needle -with the same ease as the angels of the schoolmen could, in imagination. -With these images before your minds, you may well ask what community of -form, or structure, is there between the animalcule and the whale, or -between the fungus and fig-tree? And, _a fortiori_, between all four? - -Finally, if we regard substance, or material composition, what hidden -bond can connect the flower which a girl wears in her hair and the blood -which courses through her youthful veins; or, what is there in common -between the dense and resisting mass of the oak, or the strong fabric of -the tortoise, and those broad disks of glassy jelly which may be seen -pulsating through the waters of a calm sea, but which drain away to mere -films in the hand which raises them out of their element? Such -objections as these must, I think, arise in the mind of every one who -ponders, for the first time, upon the conception of a single physical -basis of life underlying all the diversities of vital existence; but I -propose to demonstrate to you that, notwithstanding these apparent -difficulties, a threefold unity—namely, a unity of power or faculty, a -unity of form, and a unity of substantial composition—does pervade the -whole living world. No very abstruse argumentation is needed, in the -first place, to prove that the powers, or faculties, of all kinds of -living matter, diverse as they may be in degree, are substantially -similar in kind. Goethe has condensed a survey of all the powers of -mankind into the well-known epigram: - - “Warum treibt sich das Volk so und schreit? Es will sich - ernähren Kinder zeugen, und sie nähren so gut es vermag. - - * * * * * - - Weiter bringt es kein Mensch, stell’ er sich, wie er auch will.” - -In physiological language this means, that all the multifarious and -complicated activities of man are comprehensible under three categories. -Either they are immediately directed towards the maintenance and -development of the body, or they effect transitory changes in the -relative positions of parts of the body, or they tend towards the -continuance of the species. Even those manifestations of intellect, of -feeling, and of will, which we rightly name the higher faculties, are -not excluded from this classification, inasmuch as to every one but the -subject of them, they are known only as transitory changes in the -relative positions of parts of the body. Speech, gesture, and every -other form of human action are, in the long run, resolvable into -muscular contraction, and muscular contraction is but a transitory -change in the relative positions of the parts of a muscle. But the -scheme, which is large enough to embrace the activities of the highest -form of life, covers all those of the lower creatures. The lowest plant, -or animalcule, feeds, grows and reproduces its kind. In addition, all -animals manifest those transitory changes of form which we class under -irritability and contractility; and it is more than probable, that when -the vegetable world is thoroughly explored, we shall find all plants in -possession of the same powers, at one time or other of their existence. -I am not now alluding to such phenomena, at once rare and conspicuous, -as those exhibited by the leaflets of the sensitive plant, or the -stamens of the barberry, but to much more widely-spread, and, at the -same time, more subtle and hidden, manifestations of vegetable -contractility. You are doubtless aware that the common nettle owes its -stinging property to the innumerable stiff and needle-like, though -exquisitely delicate, hairs which cover its surface. Each -stinging-needle tapers from a broad base to a slender summit, which, -though rounded at the end, is of such microscopic fineness that it -readily penetrates, and breaks off in, the skin. The whole hair consists -of a very delicate outer case of wood, closely applied to the inner -surface of which is a layer of semi-fluid matter, full of innumerable -granules of extreme minuteness. This semi-fluid lining is protoplasm, -which thus constitutes a kind of bag, full of a limpid liquid, and -roughly corresponding in form with the interior of the hair which it -fills. When viewed with a sufficiently high magnifying power, the -protoplasmic layer of the nettle hair is seen to be in a condition of -unceasing activity. Local contractions of the whole thickness of its -substance pass slowly and gradually from point to point, and give rise -to the appearance of progressive waves, just as the bending of -successive stalks of corn by a breeze produces the apparent billows of a -corn-field. But, in addition to these movements, and independently of -them, the granules are driven, in relatively rapid streams, through -channels in the protoplasm which seem to have a considerable amount of -persistence. Most commonly, the currents in adjacent parts of the -protoplasm take similar directions; and, thus, there is a general stream -up one side of the hair and down the other. But this does not prevent -the existence of partial currents which take different routes; and, -sometimes, trains of granules may be seen coursing swiftly in opposite -directions, within a twenty-thousandth of an inch of one another; while, -occasionally, opposite streams come into direct collision, and, after a -longer or shorter struggle, one predominates. The cause of these -currents seem to lie in contractions of the protoplasm which bounds the -channels in which they flow, but which are so minute that the best -microscopes show only their effects, and not themselves. - -The spectacle afforded by the wonderful energies prisoned within the -compass of the microscopic hair of a plant, which we commonly regard as -a merely passive organism, is not easily forgotten by one who has -watched its display continued hour after hour, without pause or sign of -weakening. The possible complexity of many other organic forms, -seemingly as simple as the protoplasm of the nettle, dawns upon one; and -the comparison of such a protoplasm to a body with an internal -circulation, which has been put forward by an eminent physiologist, -loses much of its startling character. Currents similar to those of the -hairs of the nettle have been observed in a great multitude of very -different plants, and weighty authorities have suggested that they -probably occur, in more or less perfection, in all young vegetable -cells. If such be the case, the wonderful noonday silence of a tropical -forest is, after all, due only to the dullness of our hearing; and could -our ears catch the murmur of these tiny maelstroms, as they whirl in the -innumerable myriads of living cells which constitute each tree, we -should be stunned, as with the roar of a great city. - -Among the lower plants, it is the rule rather than the exception, that -contractility should be still more openly manifested at some periods of -their existence. The protoplasm of _Algæ_ and _Fungi_ becomes, under -many circumstances, partially, or completely, freed from its woody case, -and exhibits movements of its whole mass, or is propelled by the -contractility of one or more hair-like prolongations of its body, which -are called vibratile cilia. And, so far as the conditions of the -manifestation of the phenomena of contractility have yet been studied, -they are the same for the plant as for the animal. Heat and electric -shocks influence both, and in the same way, though it may be in -different degrees. It is by no means my intention to suggest that there -is no difference in faculty between the lowest plant and the highest, or -between plants and animals. But the difference between the powers of the -lowest plant, or animal, and those of the highest is one of degree, not -of kind, and depends, as Milne-Edwards long ago so well pointed out, -upon the extent to which the principle of the division of labor is -carried out in the living economy. In the lowest organism all parts are -competent to perform all functions, and one and the same portion of -protoplasm may successively take on the function of feeding, moving, or -reproducing apparatus. In the highest, on the contrary, a great number -of parts combine to perform each function, each part doing its allotted -share of the work with great accuracy and efficiency, but being useless -for any other purpose. On the other hand, notwithstanding all the -fundamental resemblances which exist between the powers of the -protoplasm in plants and in animals, they present a striking difference -(to which I shall advert more at length presently,) in the fact that -plants can manufacture fresh protoplasm out of mineral compounds, -whereas animals are obliged to procure it ready-made, and hence, in the -long run, depend upon plants. Upon what condition this difference in the -powers of the two great divisions of the world of life depends, nothing -is at present known. - -With such qualification as arises out of the last-mentioned fact, it may -be truly said that the acts of all living things are fundamentally one. -Is any such unity predicable of their forms? Let us seek in easily -verified facts for a reply to this question. If a drop of blood be drawn -by pricking one’s finger, and viewed with proper precautions and under a -sufficiently high microscopic power, there will be seen, among the -innumerable multitude of little, circular, discoidal bodies, or -corpuscles, which float in it and give it its color, a comparatively -small number of colorless corpuscles, of somewhat larger size and very -irregular shape. If the drop of blood be kept at the temperature of the -body, these colorless corpuscles will be seen to exhibit a marvelous -activity, changing their forms with great rapidity, drawing in and -thrusting out prolongations of their substance, and creeping about as if -they were independent organisms. The substance which is thus active is a -mass of protoplasm, and its activity differs in detail, rather than in -principle, from that of the protoplasm of the nettle. Under sundry -circumstances the corpuscle dies and becomes distended into a round -mass, in the midst of which is seen a smaller spherical body, which -existed, but was more or less hidden, in the living corpuscle, and is -called its _nucleus_. Corpuscles of essentially similar structure are to -be found in the skin, in the lining of the mouth, and scattered through -the whole frame work of the body. Nay, more; in the earliest condition -of the human organism, in that state in which it has just become -distinguishable from the egg in which it arises, it is nothing but an -aggregation of such corpuscles, and every organ of the body was, once, -no more than such an aggregation. Thus a nucleated mass of protoplasm -turns out to be what may be termed the structural unit of the human -body. As a matter of fact, the body, in its earliest state, is a mere -multiple of such units; and, in its perfect condition, it is a multiple -of such units, variously modified. But does the formula which expresses -the essential structural character of the highest animal cover all the -rest, as the statement of its powers and faculties covered that of all -others? Very nearly. Beast and fowl, reptile and fish, mollusk, worm, -and polype, are all composed of structural units of the same character, -namely, masses of protoplasm with a nucleus. There are sundry very low -animals, each of which, structurally, is a mere colorless -blood-corpuscle, leading an independent life. But, at the very bottom of -the animal scale, even this simplicity becomes simplified, and all the -phenomena of life are manifested by a particle of protoplasm without a -nucleus. Nor are such organisms insignificant by reason of their want of -complexity. It is a fair question whether the protoplasm of those -simplest forms of life, which people an immense extent of the bottom of -the sea, would not outweigh that of all the higher living beings which -inhabit the land, put together. And in ancient times, no less than at -the present day, such living beings as these have been the greatest of -rock builders. - -What has been said of the animal world is no less true of plants. -Imbedded in the protoplasm at the broad, or attached, end of the nettle -hair, there lies a spheroidal nucleus. Careful examination further -proves that the whole substance of the nettle is made up of a repetition -of such masses of nucleated protoplasm, each contained in a wooden case, -which is modified in form, sometimes into a woody fibre, sometimes into -a duct or spiral vessel, sometimes into a pollen grain, or an ovule. -Traced back to its earliest state, the nettle arises as the man does, in -a particle of nucleated protoplasm. And in the lowest plants, as in the -lowest animals, a single mass of such protoplasm may constitute the -whole plant, or the protoplasm may exist without a nucleus. Under these -circumstances it may well be asked, how is one mass of non-nucleated -protoplasm to be distinguished from another? why call one “plant” and -the other “animal?” The only reply is that, so far as form is concerned, -plants and animals are not separable, and that, in many cases, it is a -mere matter of convention whether we call a given organism an animal or -a plant. - -There is a living body called _Æthalium septicum_, which appears upon -decaying vegetable substances, and in one of its forms, is common upon -the surface of tan pits. In this condition it is, to all intents and -purposes, a fungus, and formerly was always regarded as such; but the -remarkable investigations of De Bary have shown that, in another -condition, the _Æthalium_ is an actively locomotive creature, and takes -in solid matters, upon which, apparently, it feeds, thus exhibiting the -most characteristic feature of animality. Is this a plant, or is it an -animal? Is it both, or is it neither? Some decide in favor of the last -supposition, and establish an intermediate kingdom, a sort of biological -No Man’s Land for all these questionable forms. But, as it is admittedly -impossible to draw any distinct boundary line between this no man’s land -and the vegetable world on the one hand, or the animal, on the other, it -appears to me that this proceeding merely doubles the difficulty which, -before, was single. Protoplasm, simple or nucleated, is the formal basis -of all life. It is the clay of the potter; which, bake it and paint it -as he will, remains clay, separated by artifice, and not by nature, from -the commonest brick or sun-dried clod. Thus it becomes clear that all -living powers are cognate, and that all living forms are fundamentally -of one character. - -The researches of the chemist have revealed a no less striking -uniformity of material composition in living matter. In perfect -strictness, it is true that chemical investigation can tell us little or -nothing, directly, of the composition of living matter, inasmuch as such -matter must needs die in the act of analysis, and upon this very obvious -ground, objections, which I confess seem to me to be somewhat frivolous, -have been raised to the drawing of any conclusions whatever respecting -the composition of actually living matter from that of the dead matter -of life, which alone is accessible to us. But objectors of this class do -not seem to reflect that it is also, in strictness, true that we know -nothing about the composition of any body whatever, as it is. The -statement that a crystal of calc-spar consists of carbonate of lime, is -quite true, if we only mean that, by appropriate processes, it may be -resolved into carbonic acid and quicklime. If you pass the same carbonic -acid over the very quicklime thus obtained, you will obtain carbonate of -lime again; but it will not be calc-spar, nor anything like it. Can it, -therefore, be said that chemical analysis teaches nothing about the -chemical composition of calc-spar? Such a statement would be absurd; but -it is hardly more so than the talk one occasionally hears about the -uselessness of applying the results of chemical analysis to the living -bodies which have yielded them. One fact, at any rate, is out of reach -of such refinements, and this is, that all the forms of protoplasm which -have yet been examined contain the four elements, carbon, hydrogen, -oxygen, and nitrogen, in very complex union, and that they behave -similarly towards several reagents. To this complex combination, the -nature of which has never been determined with exactness, the name of -Protein has been applied. And if we use this term with such caution as -may properly arise out of our comparative ignorance of the things for -which it stands, it may be truly said, that all protoplasm is -proteinaceous; or, as the white, or albumen, of an egg is one of the -commonest examples of a nearly pure protein matter, we may say that all -living matter is more or less albuminoid. Perhaps it would not yet be -safe to say that all forms of protoplasm are affected by the direct -action of electric shocks; and yet the number of cases in which the -contraction of protoplasm is shown to be affected by this agency -increases, every day. Nor can it be affirmed with perfect confidence -that all forms of protoplasm are liable to undergo that peculiar -coagulation at the temperature of 40 degrees—50 degrees centigrade, -which has been called “heat-stiffening,” though Kühne’s beautiful -researches have proved this occurrence to take place in so many and such -diverse living beings, that it is hardly rash to expect that the law -holds good for all. Enough has, perhaps, been said to prove the -existence of a general uniformity in the character of the protoplasm, or -physical basis of life, in whatever group of living beings it may be -studied. But it will be understood that this general uniformity by no -means excludes any amount of special modifications of the fundamental -substance. The mineral, carbonate of lime, assumes an immense diversity -of characters, though no one doubts that under all these Protean changes -it is one and the same thing. - -And now, what is the ultimate fate, and what the origin of the matter of -life? Is it, as some of the older naturalists supposed, diffused -throughout the universe in molecules, which are indestructible and -unchangeable in themselves; but, in endless transmigration, unite in -innumerable permutations, into the diversified forms of life we know? -Or, is the matter of life composed of ordinary matter, differing from it -only in the manner in which its atoms are aggregated? Is it built up of -ordinary matter, and again resolved into ordinary matter when its work -is done? Modern science does not hesitate a moment between these -alternatives. Physiology writes over the portals of life, - - “Debemur morti nos nostraque,” - -with a profounder meaning than the Roman poet attached to that -melancholy line. Under whatever disguise it takes refuge, whether fungus -or oak, worm or man, the living protoplasm not only ultimately dies and -is resolved into its mineral and lifeless constituents, but is always -dying, and, strange as the paradox may sound, could not live unless it -died. In the wonderful story of the “Peau de Chagrin,” the hero becomes -possessed of a magical wild ass’s skin, which yields him the means of -gratifying all his wishes. But its surface represents the duration of -the proprietor’s life; and for every satisfied desire the skin shrinks -in proportion to the intensity of fruition, until at length life and the -last handbreadth of the “Peau de Chagrin,” disappear with the -gratification of a last wish. Balzac’s studies had led him over a wide -range of thought and speculation, and his shadowing forth of -physiological truth in this strange story may have been intentional. At -any rate, the matter of life is a veritable “Peau de Chagrin,” and for -every vital act it is somewhat the smaller. All work implies waste, and -the work of life results, directly or indirectly, in the waste of -protoplasm. Every word uttered by a speaker costs him some physical -loss; and, in the strictest sense, he burns that others may have -light—so much eloquence, so much of his body resolved into carbonic -acid, water and urea. It is clear that this process of expenditure -cannot go on forever. But, happily, the protoplasmic _peau de chagrin_ -differs from Balzac’s in its capacity of being repaired, and brought -back to its full size, after every exertion. For example, this present -lecture, whatever its intellectual worth to you, has a certain physical -value to me, which is, conceivably, expressible by the number of grains -of protoplasm and other bodily substance wasted in maintaining my vital -processes during its delivery. My _peau de chagrin_ will be distinctly -smaller at the end of the discourse than it was at the beginning. -By-and-by, I shall probably have recourse to the substance commonly -called mutton, for the purpose of stretching it back to its original -size. Now this mutton was once the living protoplasm, more or less -modified, of another animal—a sheep. As I shall eat it, it is the same -matter altered, not only by death, but by exposure to sundry artificial -operations in the process of cooking. But these changes, whatever be -their extent, have not rendered it incompetent to resume its old -functions as matter of life. A singular inward laboratory, which I -possess, will dissolve a certain portion of the modified protoplasm, the -solution so formed will pass into my veins; and the subtle influences to -which it will then be subjected will convert the dead protoplasm into -living protoplasm, and transubstantiate sheep into man. Nor is this all. -If digestion were a thing to be trifled with, I might sup upon lobster, -and the matter of life of the crustacean would undergo the same -wonderful metamorphosis into humanity. And were I to return to my own -place by sea, and undergo shipwreck, the crustacea might, and probably -would, return the compliment, and demonstrate our common nature by -turning my protoplasm into living lobster. Or, if nothing better were to -be had, I might supply my wants with mere bread, and I should find the -protoplasm of the wheat-plant to be convertible into man, with no more -trouble than that of the sheep, and with far less, I fancy, than that of -the lobster. Hence it appears to be a matter of no great moment what -animal, or what plant, I lay under contribution for protoplasm, and the -fact speaks volumes for the general identity of that substance in all -living beings. I share this catholicity of assimilation with other -animals, all of which, so far as we know, could thrive equally well on -the protoplasm of any of their fellows, or of any plant; but here the -assimilative powers of the animal world cease. - -A solution of smelling-salts in water with an infinitesimal proportion -of some other saline matters, contains all the elementary bodies which -enter into the composition of protoplasm; but, as I need hardly say, a -hogshead of that fluid would not keep a hungry man from starving, nor -would it save any animal whatever from a like fate. An animal cannot -make protoplasm, but must take it ready-made from some other animal, or -some plant—the animal’s highest feat of constructive chemistry being to -convert dead protoplasm into that living matter of life which is -appropriate to itself. Therefore, in seeking for the origin of -protoplasm, we must eventually turn to the vegetable world. The fluid -containing carbonic acid, water, and ammonia, which offers such a -barmecide feast to the animal, is a table richly spread to multitudes of -plants; and with a due supply of only such materials, many a plant will -not only maintain itself in vigor, but grow and multiply until it has -increased a million-fold, or a million million-fold, the quantity of -protoplasm which it originally possessed; in this way building up the -matter of life, to an indefinite extent, from the common matter of the -universe. Thus the animal can only raise the complex substance of dead -protoplasm to the higher power, as one may say, of living protoplasm; -while the plant can raise the less complex substances—carbonic acid, -water, and ammonia—to the same stage of living protoplasm, if not to the -same level. But the plant also has its limitations. Some of the fungi, -for example, appear to need higher compounds to start with, and no known -plant can live upon the uncompounded elements of protoplasm. A plant -supplied with pure carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, and nitrogen, phosphorus, -sulphur, and the like, would as infallibly die as the animal in his bath -of smelling-salts, though it would be surrounded by all the constituents -of protoplasm. Nor, indeed, need the process of simplification of -vegetable food be carried so far as this, in order to arrive at the -limit of the plant’s thaumaturgy. - -Let water, carbonic acid, and all the other needful constituents, be -supplied without ammonia, and an ordinary plant will still be unable to -manufacture protoplasm. Thus the matter of life, so far as we know it -(and we have no right to speculate on any other) breaks up in -consequence of that continual death which is the condition of its -manifesting vitality, into carbonic acid, water, and ammonia, which -certainly possess no properties but those of ordinary matter; and out of -these same forms of ordinary matter and from none which are simpler, the -vegetable world builds up all the protoplasm which keeps the animal -world agoing. Plants are the accumulators of the power which animals -distribute and disperse. - -But it will be observed, that the existence of the matter of life -depends on the preëxistence of certain compounds, namely, carbonic acid, -water, and ammonia. Withdraw any one of these three from the world and -all vital phenomena come to an end. They are related to the protoplasm -of the plant, as the protoplasm of the plant is to that of the animal. -Carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, and nitrogen are all lifeless bodies. Of -these, carbon and oxygen unite in certain proportion and under certain -conditions, to give rise to carbonic acid; hydrogen and oxygen produce -water; nitrogen and hydrogen give rise to ammonia. These new compounds, -like the elementary bodies of which they are composed, are lifeless. But -when they are brought together, under certain conditions they give rise -to the still more complex body, protoplasm, and this protoplasm exhibits -the phenomena of life. I see no break in this series of steps in -molecular complication, and I am unable to understand why the language -which is applicable to any one term of the series may not be used to any -of the others. We think fit to call different kinds of matter carbon, -oxygen, hydrogen, and nitrogen, and to speak of the various powers and -activities of these substances as the properties of the matter of which -they are composed. When hydrogen and oxygen are mixed in a certain -proportion, and the electric spark is passed through them, they -disappear and a quantity of water, equal in weight to the sum of their -weights, appears in their place. There is not the slightest parity -between the passive and active powers of the water and those of the -oxygen and hydrogen which have given rise to it. At 32 degrees -Fahrenheit, and far below that temperature, oxygen and hydrogen are -elastic gaseous bodies, whose particles tend to rush away from one -another with great force. Water, at the same temperature, is a strong -though brittle solid, whose particles tend to cohere into definite -geometrical shapes, and sometimes build up frosty imitations of the most -complex forms of vegetable foliage. Nevertheless we call these, and many -other strange phenomena, the properties of the water, and we do not -hesitate to believe that, in some way or another, they result from the -properties of the component elements of the water. We do not assume that -a something called “aquosity” entered into and took possession of the -oxide of hydrogen as soon as it was formed, and then guided the aqueous -particles to their places in the facets of the crystal, or amongst the -leaflets of the hoar-frost. On the contrary, we live in the hope and in -the faith that, by the advance of molecular physics, we shall by-and-by -be able to see our way as clearly from the constituents of water to the -properties of water, as we are now able to deduce the operations of a -watch from the form of its parts and the manner in which they are put -together. Is the case in any way changed when carbonic acid, water and -ammonia disappear, and in their place, under the influence of -preëxisting living protoplasm, an equivalent weight of the matter of -life makes its appearance? It is true that there is no sort of parity -between the properties of the components and the properties of the -resultant, but neither was there in the case of the water. It is also -true that what I have spoken of as the influence of preëxisting living -matter is something quite unintelligible; but does any body quite -comprehend the _modus operandi_ of an electric spark, which traverses a -mixture of oxygen and hydrogen? What justification is there, then, for -the assumption of the existence in the living matter of a something -which has no representative or correlative in the not living matter -which gave rise to it? What better philosophical status has “vitality” -than “aquosity?” And why should “vitality” hope for a better fate than -the other “itys” which have disappeared since Martinus Scriblerus -accounted for the operation of the meat-jack by its inherent “meat -roasting quality,” and scorned the “materialism” of those who explained -the turning of the spit by a certain mechanism worked by the draught of -the chimney? If scientific language is to possess a definite and -constant signification whenever it is employed, it seems to me that we -are logically bound to apply to the protoplasm, or physical basis of -life, the same conceptions as those which are held to be legitimate -elsewhere. If the phenomena exhibited by water are its properties, so -are those presented by protoplasm, living or dead, its properties. If -the properties of water may be properly said to result from the nature -and disposition of its component molecules, I can find no intelligible -ground for refusing to say that the properties of protoplasm result from -the nature and disposition of its molecules. But I bid you beware that, -in accepting these conclusions, you are placing your feet on the first -rung of a ladder which, in most people’s estimation, is the reverse of -Jacob’s, and leads to the antipodes of heaven. It may seem a small thing -to admit that the dull vital actions of a fungus, or a foraminifer, are -the properties of their protoplasm, and are the direct results of the -nature of the matter of which they are composed. - -But if, as I have endeavored to prove to you, their protoplasm is -essentially identical with, and most readily converted into, that of any -animal, I can discover no logical halting place between the admission -that such is the case, and the further concession that all vital action -may, with equal propriety, be said to be the result of the molecular -forces of the protoplasm which displays it. And if so, it must be true, -in the same sense and to the same extent, that the thoughts to which I -am now giving utterance, and your thoughts regarding them, are the -expression of molecular changes in that matter of life which is the -source of our other vital phenomena. Past experience leads me to be -tolerably certain that, when the propositions I have just placed before -you are accessible to public comment and criticism, they will be -condemned by many zealous persons, and perhaps by some few of the wise -and thoughtful. I should not wonder if “gross and brutal materialism” -were the mildest phrase applied to them in certain quarters. And most -undoubtedly the terms of the propositions are distinctly materialistic. -Nevertheless, two things are certain: the one, that I hold the -statements to be substantially true; the other, that I, individually, am -no materialist, but, on the contrary, believe materialism to involve -grave philosophical error. - -This union of materialistic terminology with the repudiation of -materialistic philosophy I share with some of the most thoughtful men -with whom I am acquainted. And, when I first undertook to deliver the -present discourse, it appeared to me to be a fitting opportunity to -explain how such an union is not only consistent with, but necessitated -by sound logic. I purposed to lead you through the territory of vital -phenomena to the materialistic slough in which you find yourselves now -plunged, and then to point out to you the sole path by which, in my -judgment, extrication is possible. An occurrence, of which I was unaware -until my arrival here last night, renders this line of argument -singularly opportune. I found in your papers the eloquent address “On -the Limits of Philosophical Inquiry,” which a distinguished prelate of -the English Church delivered before the members of the Philosophical -Institution on the previous day. My argument, also, turns upon this very -point of limits of philosophical inquiry; and I cannot bring out my own -views better than by contrasting them with those so plainly, and, in the -main, fairly stated by the Archbishop of York. But I may be permitted to -make a preliminary comment upon an occurrence that greatly astonished -me. Applying the name of “the New Philosophy” to that estimate of the -limits of philosophical inquiry which I, in common with many other men -of science, hold to be just, the Archbishop opens his address by -identifying this “new philosophy” with the positive philosophy of M. -Comte (of whom he speaks as its “founder”); and then proceeds to attack -that philosopher and his doctrine vigorously. Now, so far as I am -concerned, the most Reverend prelate might dialectically hew M. Comte in -pieces, as a modern Agag, and I should not attempt to stay his hand. In -so far as my study of what specially characterizes the Positive -Philosophy has led me, I find therein little or nothing of any -scientific value, and a great deal which is as thoroughly antagonistic -to the very essence of science as anything in ultramontane Catholicism. -In fact, M. Comte’s philosophy in practice might be compendiously -described as Catholicism _minus_ Christianity. But what has Comptism to -do with the “New Philosophy,” as the Archbishop defines it in the -following passage? - -“Let me briefly remind you of the leading principles of this new -philosophy. - -“All knowledge is experience of facts acquired by the senses. The -traditions of older philosophies have obscured our experience by mixing -with it much that the senses cannot observe, and until these additions -are discarded our knowledge is impure. Thus, metaphysics tells us that -one fact which we observe is a cause, and another is the effect of that -cause; but upon a rigid analysis we find that our senses observe nothing -of cause or effect; they observe, first, that one fact succeeds another, -and, after some opportunity, that this fact has never failed to -follow—that for cause and effect we should substitute invariable -succession. An older philosophy teaches us to define an object by -distinguishing its essential from its accidental qualities; but -experience knows nothing of essential and accidental; she sees only that -certain marks attach to an object, and, after many observations, that -some of them attach invariably, whilst others may at times be absent. * -* * * * As all knowledge is relative, the notion of anything being -necessary must be banished with other traditions.” - -There is much here that expresses the spirit of the “New Philosophy,” if -by that term be meant the spirit of modern science; but I cannot but -marvel that the assembled wisdom and learning of Edinburgh should have -uttered no sign of dissent, when Comte was declared to be the founder of -these doctrines. No one will accuse Scotchmen of habitually forgetting -their great countrymen; but it was enough to make David Hume turn in his -grave, that here, almost within ear-shot of his house, an instructed -audience should have listened, without a murmur, while his most -characteristic doctrines were attributed to a French writer of fifty -years later date, in whose dreary and verbose pages we miss alike the -vigor of thought and the exquisite clearness of the style of the man -whom I make bold to term the most acute thinker of the eighteenth -century—even though that century produced Kant. But I did not come to -Scotland to vindicate the honor of one of the greatest men she has ever -produced. My business is to point out to you that the only way of escape -out of the crass materialism in which we just now landed is the adoption -and strict working out of the very principles which the Archbishop holds -up to reprobation. - -Let us suppose that knowledge is absolute, and not relative, and -therefore, that our conception of matter represents that which it really -is. Let us suppose, further, that we do know more of cause and effect -than a certain definite order of succession among facts, and that we -have a knowledge of the necessity of that succession—and hence, of -necessary laws—and I, for my part, do not see what escape there is from -utter materialism and necessitarianism. For it is obvious that our -knowledge of what we call the material world is, to begin with, at least -as certain and definite as that of the spiritual world, and that our -acquaintance with the law is of as old a date as our knowledge of -spontaneity. - -Further, I take it to be demonstrable that it is utterly impossible to -prove that anything whatever may not be the effect of a material and -necessary cause, and that human logic is equally incompetent to prove -that any act is really spontaneous. A really spontaneous act is one -which, by the assumption, has no cause; and the attempt to prove such a -negative as this is, on the face of the matter, absurd. And while it is -thus a philosophical impossibility to demonstrate that any given -phenomenon is not the effect of a material cause, any one who is -acquainted with the history of science will admit, that its progress -has, in all ages, meant, and now more than ever means, the extension of -the province of what we call matter and causation, and the concomitant -gradual banishment from all regions of human thought of what we call -spirit and spontaneity. - -I have endeavored, in the first part of this discourse, to give you a -conception of the direction towards which modern physiology is tending; -and I ask you, what is the difference between the conception of life as -the product of a certain disposition of material molecules, and the old -notion of an Archæus governing and directing blind matter within each -living body, except this—that here, as elsewhere, matter and law have -devoured spirit and spontaneity? And as surely as every future grows out -of past and present, so will the physiology of the future gradually -extend the realm of matter and law until it is coëxtensive with -knowledge, with feeling, and with action. The consciousness of this -great truth weighs like a nightmare, I believe, upon many of the best -minds of these days. They watch what they conceive to be the progress of -materialism, in such fear and powerless anger as a savage feels, when, -during an eclipse, the great shadow creeps over the face of the sun. The -advancing tide of matter threatens to drown their souls; the tightening -grasp of law impedes their freedom; they are alarmed lest man’s moral -nature be debased by the increase of his wisdom. - -If the “New Philosophy” be worthy of the reprobation with which it is -visited, I confess their fears seem to me to be well founded. While, on -the contrary, could David Hume be consulted, I think he would smile at -their perplexities, and chide them for doing even as the heathen, and -falling down in terror before the hideous idols their own hands have -raised. For, after all, what do we know of this terrible “matter,” -except as a name for the unknown and hypothetical cause of states of our -own consciousness? And what do we know of that “spirit” over whose -threatened extinction by matter a great lamentation is arising, like -that which was heard at the death of Pan, except that it is also a name -for an unknown and hypothetical cause, or condition, of states of -consciousness? In other words, matter and spirit are but names for the -imaginary substrata of groups of natural phenomena. And what is the dire -necessity and “iron” law under which men groan? Truly, most gratuitously -invented bugbears. I suppose if there be an “iron” law, it is that of -gravitation; and if there be a physical necessity, it is that a stone, -unsupported, must fall to the ground. But what is all we really know and -can know about the latter phenomenon? Simply, that, in all human -experience, stones have fallen to the ground under these conditions; -that we have not the smallest reason for believing that any stone so -circumstanced will not fall to the ground, and that we have, on the -contrary, every reason to believe that it will so fall. It is very -convenient to indicate that all the conditions of belief have been -fulfilled in this case, by calling the statement that unsupported stones -will fall to the ground, “a law of nature.” But when, as commonly -happens, we change will into must, we introduce an idea of necessity -which most assuredly does not lie in the observed facts, and has no -warranty that I can discover elsewhere. For my part, I utterly repudiate -and anathematize the intruder. Fact, I know; and Law I know; but what is -this Necessity, save an empty shadow of my own mind’s throwing? But, if -it is certain that we can have no knowledge of the nature of either -matter or spirit, and that the notion of necessity is something -illegitimately thrust into the perfectly legitimate conception of law, -the materialistic position that there is nothing in the world but -matter, force, and necessity, is as utterly devoid of justification as -the most baseless of theological dogmas. - -The fundamental doctrines of materialism, like those of spiritualism, -and most other “isms,” lie outside “the limits of philosophical -inquiry,” and David Hume’s great service to humanity is his irrefragable -demonstration of what these limits are. Hume called himself a sceptic, -and therefore others cannot be blamed if they apply the same title to -him; but that does not alter the fact that the name, with its existing -implications, does him gross injustice. If a man asks me what the -politics of the inhabitants of the moon are, and I reply that I do not -know; that neither I, nor any one else have any means of knowing; and -that, under these circumstances I decline to trouble myself about the -subject at all, I do not think he has any right to call me a sceptic. On -the contrary, in replying thus, I conceive that I am simply honest and -truthful, and show a proper regard for the economy of time. So Hume’s -strong and subtle intellect takes up a great many problems about which -we are naturally curious, and shows us that they are essentially -questions of lunar politics, in their essence incapable of being -answered, and therefore not worth the attention of men who have work to -do in the world. And thus ends one of his essays: - - “If we take in hand any volume of Divinity, or school - metaphysics, for instance, let us ask, _Does it contain any - abstract reasoning concerning quantity or number?_ No. _Does it - contain any experimental reasoning concerning matter of fact and - existence?_ No. Commit it then to the flames; for it can contain - nothing but sophistry and illusion.” - -Permit me to enforce this most wise advice. Why trouble ourselves about -matters of which, however important they may be, we do know nothing, and -can know nothing? We live in a world which is full of misery and -ignorance, and the plain duty of each and all of us is to try to make -the little corner he can influence somewhat less miserable and somewhat -less ignorant than it was before he entered it. To do this effectually -it is necessary to be fully possessed of only two beliefs: the first, -that the order of nature is ascertainable by our faculties to an extent -which is practically unlimited; the second, that our volition counts for -something as a condition of the course of events. Each of these beliefs -can be verified experimentally, as often as we like to try. Each, -therefore, stands upon the strongest foundation upon which any belief -can rest; and forms one of our highest truths. - -If we find that the ascertainment of the order of nature is facilitated -by using one terminology, or one set of symbols, rather than another, it -is our clear duty to use the former, and no harm can accrue so long as -we bear in mind that we are dealing merely with terms and symbols. In -itself it is of little moment whether we express the phenomena of matter -in terms of spirit, or the phenomena of spirit in terms of matter; -matter may be regarded as a form of thought, thought may be regarded as -a property of matter—each statement has a certain relative truth. But -with a view to the progress of science, the materialistic terminology is -in every way to be preferred. For it connects thought with the other -phenomena of the universe, and suggests inquiry into the nature of those -physical conditions or concomitants of thought, which are more or less -accessible to us, and a knowledge of which may, in future, help us to -exercise the same kind of control over the world of thought as we -already possess in respect of the material world; whereas, the -alternative, or spiritualistic, terminology is utterly barren, and leads -to nothing but obscurity and confusion of ideas. Thus there can be -little doubt that the further science advances, the more extensively and -consistently will all the phenomena of nature be represented by -materialistic formulæ and symbols. But the man of science, who, -forgetting the limits of philosophical inquiry, slides from these -formulæ and symbols into what is commonly understood by materialism, -seems to me to place himself on a level with the mathematician, who -should mistake the _x’s_ and _y’s_, with which he works his problems, -for real entities—and with this further disadvantage as compared with -the mathematician, that the blunders of the latter are of no practical -consequence, while the errors of systematic materialism may paralyze the -energies and destroy the beauty of a life. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - _THE CORRELATION OF VITAL AND PHYSICAL FORCES._ - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - THE CORRELATION - - OF - - VITAL AND PHYSICAL FORCES. - - -In the Syracusan Poecile, says Alexander von Humboldt in his beautiful -little allegory of the Rhodian Genius, hung a painting, which, for full -a century, had continued to attract the attention of every visitor. In -the foreground of this picture a numerous company of youths and maidens -of earthly and sensuous appearance gazed fixedly upon a haloed Genius -who hovered in their midst. A butterfly rested upon his shoulder, and he -held in his hand a flaming torch. His every lineament bespoke a -celestial origin. The attempts to solve the enigma of this -painting—whose origin even was unknown—though numerous, were all in -vain, when one day a ship arriving from Rhodes, laden with works of art, -brought another picture, at once recognized as its companion. As before, -the Genius stood in the center, but the butterfly had disappeared, and -the torch was reversed and extinguished. The youths and maidens were no -longer sad and submissive, their mutual embraces announcing their entire -emancipation from restraint. Still unable to solve the riddle, Dionysius -sent the pictures to the Pythagorean sage, Epicharmus. After gazing upon -them long and earnestly, he said: Sixty years long have I pondered on -the internal springs of nature, and on the differences inherent in -matter; but it is only this day that the Rhodian Genius has taught me to -see clearly that which before I had only conjectured. In inanimate -nature, everything seeks its like. Everything, as soon as formed, -hastens to enter into new combinations, and nought save the disjoining -art of man can present in a separate state ingredients which ye would -vainly seek in the interior of the earth or in the moving oceans of air -and water. Different, however, is the blending of the same substances in -animal and vegetable bodies. Here vital force imperatively asserts its -rights, and heedless of the affinity and antagonism of the atoms, unites -substances which in inanimate nature ever flee from each other, and -separates that which is incessantly striving to unite. Recognize, -therefore, in the Rhodian Genius, in the expression of his youthful -vigor, in the butterfly on his shoulder, in the commanding glance of his -eye, the symbol of vital force as it animates every germ of organic -creation. The earthly elements at his feet are striving to gratify their -own desires and to mingle with one another. Imperiously the Genius -threatens them with upraised and high-flaming torch, and compels them -regardless of their ancient rights, to obey his laws. Look now on the -new work of art; turn from life to death. The butterfly has soared -upward, the extinguished torch is reversed, and the head of the youth is -drooping; the spirit has fled to other spheres, and the vital force is -extinct. Now the youths and maidens join their hands in joyous accord. -Earthly matter again resumes its rights. Released from all bonds, they -impetuously follow their natural instincts, and the day of his death is -to them a day of nuptials.[1] - -The view here put by Humboldt into the mouth of Epicharmus may be taken -as a fair representation of the current opinion of all ages concerning -vital force. To-day, as truly as seventy-five years ago when Humboldt -wrote, the mysterious and awful phenomena of life are commonly -attributed to some controlling agent residing in the organism—to some -independent presiding deity, holding it in absolute subjection. Such a -notion it was which prompted Heraclitus to talk of a universal fire, Van -Helmont to propose his Archæus, Hofmann his vital fluid, Hunter his -_materia vitæ diffusa_, and Humboldt his vital force.[2] All these names -assume the existence of a material or immaterial something, more or less -separable from the material body, and more or less identical with the -mind or soul, which is the cause of the phenomena of living beings. But -as science moved irresistibly onward, and it became evident that the -forces of inorganic nature were neither deities nor imponderable fluids, -separable from matter, but were simple affections of it, analogy -demanded a like concession in behalf of vital force.[3] From the notion -that the effects of heat were due to an imponderable fluid called -caloric, discovery passed to the conviction that heat was but a motion -of material particles, and hence inseparable from matter. To a like -assumption concerning vitality it was now but a step. The more advanced -thinkers in science of to-day, therefore, look upon the life of the -living form as inseparable from its substance, and believe that the -former is purely phenomenal, and only a manifestation of the latter. -Denying the existence of a special vital force as such, they retain the -term only to express the sum of the phenomena of living beings. - -In calling your attention this evening to the Correlation of the -Physical and the Vital Forces, I have a twofold object in view. On the -one hand, I would seek to interest you in a comparatively recent -discovery of Science, and one which is destined to play a most important -part in promoting man’s welfare; and on the other I would inquire what -part our own country has had in these discoveries. - -In the first place, then, let us consider what the evidences are that -vital and physical forces are correlated. Let us inquire how far -inorganic and organic forces may be considered mutually convertible, and -hence, in so far, mutually identical. This may best be done by -considering, first, what is to be understood by correlation: and second, -how far are the physical forces themselves correlated to each other. - -At the outset of our discussion, we are met by an unfortunate ambiguity -of language. The word Force, as commonly used, has three distinct -meanings; in the first place, it is used to express the cause of motion, -as when we speak of the force of gunpowder; it is also used to indicate -motion itself, as when we refer to the force of a moving cannon-ball; -and lastly it is employed to express the effect of motion, as when we -speak of the blow which the moving body gives.[4] Because of this -confusion, it has been found convenient to adopt Rankine’s -suggestion,[5] and to substitute the word ‘energy’ therefor. And -precisely as all force upon the earth’s surface—using the term force in -its widest sense—may be divided into attraction and motion, so all -energy is divided into potential and actual energy, synonymous with -those terms. It is the chemical attraction of the atoms, or their -potential energy, which makes gunpowder so powerful; it is the -attraction or potential energy of gravitation which gives the power to a -raised weight. If now, the impediments be removed, the power just now -latent becomes active, attraction is converted into motion, potential -into actual energy, and the desired effect is accomplished. The energy -of gunpowder or of a raised weight is potential, is capable of acting; -that of exploding gunpowder or of a falling weight is actual energy or -motion. By applying a match to the gunpowder, by cutting the string -which sustains the weight, we convert potential into actual energy. By -potential energy, therefore, is meant attraction; and by actual energy, -motion. It is in the latter sense that we shall use the word force in -this lecture; and we shall speak of the forces of heat, light, -electricity and mechanical motion, and of the attractions of -gravitation, cohesion, chemism. - -From what has now been said, it is obvious that when we speak of the -forces of heat, light, electricity or motion, we mean simply the -different modes of motion called by these names. And when we say that -they are correlated to each other, we mean simply that the mode of -motion called heat, light, electricity, is convertible into any of the -others, at pleasure. Correlation therefore implies convertibility, and -mutual dependence and relationship. - -Having now defined the use of the term force, and shown that forces are -correlated which are convertible and mutually dependent, we go on to -study the evidences of such correlation among the motions of inorganic -nature usually called physical forces; and to ask what proof science can -furnish us that mechanical motion, heat, light, and electricity are thus -mutually convertible. As we have already hinted, the time was when these -forces were believed to be various kinds of imponderable matter, and -chemists and physicists talked of the union of iron with caloric as they -talked of its union with sulphur, regarding the caloric as much a -distinct and inconvertible entity as the iron and sulphur themselves. -Gradually, however, the idea of the indestructibility of matter extended -itself to force. And as it was believed that no material particle could -ever be lost, so, it was argued, no portion of the force existing in -nature can disappear. Hence arose the idea of the indestructibility of -force. But, of course, it was quite impossible to stop here. If force -cannot be lost, the question at once arises, what becomes of it when it -passes beyond our recognition? This question led to experiment, and out -of experiment came the great fact of force-correlation; a fact which -distinguished authority has pronounced the most important discovery of -the present century.[6] These experiments distinctly proved that when -any one of these forces disappeared, another took its place; that when -motion was arrested, for example, heat, light or electricity was -developed. In short, that these forces were so intimately related or -correlated—to use the word then proposed by Mr. Grove[7]—that when one -of them vanished, it did so only to reappear in terms of another. But -one step more was necessary to complete this magnificent theory. What -can produce motion but motion itself? Into what can motion be converted, -but motion? May not these forces, thus mutually convertible, be simply -different modes of motion of the molecules of matter, precisely as -mechanical motion is a motion of its mass? Thus was born the dynamic -theory of force, first brought out in any completeness by Mr. Grove, in -1842, in a lecture on the “Progress of Physical Science,” delivered at -the London Institution. In that lecture he said: “Light, heat, -electricity, magnetism, motion, are all convertible material affections. -Assuming either as the cause, one of the others will be the effect. Thus -heat may be said to produce electricity, electricity to produce heat; -magnetism to produce electricity, electricity magnetism; and so of the -rest.”[8] - -A few simple experiments will help us to fix in our minds the great fact -of the convertibility of force. Starting with actual visible motion, -correlation requires that when it disappears as motion, it should -reappear as heat, light, or electricity. If the moving body be elastic -like this rubber ball, then its motion is not destroyed when it strikes, -but is only changed in direction. But if it be non-elastic, like this -ball of lead, then it does not rebound; its motion is converted into -heat. The motion of this sledge-hammer, for example, which if received -upon this anvil would be simply changed in direction, if allowed to fall -upon this bar of lead, is converted into heat; the evidence of which is -that a piece of phosphorus placed upon the lead is at once inflamed. So -too, if motion be arrested by the cushion of air in this cylinder, the -heat evolved fires the tinder carried in the plunger. But it is not -necessary that the arrest of motion should be sudden; it may be gradual, -as in the case of friction. If this cylinder containing water or alcohol -be caused to revolve rapidly between the two sides of this wooden -rubber, the heat due to the arrested motion will raise the temperature -of the liquid to the boiling point, and the cork will be expelled. But -motion may also be converted into electricity. Indeed electricity is -always the result of friction between heterogeneous particles.[9] When -this piece of hard rubber, for example, is rubbed with the fur of a cat, -it is at once electrified; and now if it be caused to communicate a -portion of its charge to this glass plate, to which at the same time we -add the mechanical motion of rotation, the strong sparks produced give -evidence of the conversion. - -So, too, taking heat as the initial force, motion, light, electricity -may be produced. In every steam-engine the steam which leaves the -cylinder is cooler than that which entered it, and cooler by exactly the -amount of work done. The motion of the piston’s mass is precisely that -lost by the steam molecules which batter against it. The conversion of -heat into electricity, too, is also easily effected. When the junction -of two metals is heated, electricity is developed. If the two metals be -bismuth and antimony, as represented in this diagram, the currents flow -as indicated by the arrows; and by multiplying the number of pairs, the -effect may be proportionately increased. Such an arrangement, called a -thermo-electric battery, we have here; and by it the heat of a single -gas-burner may be made to move, when converted, this little electric -bell-engine. Moreover, heat and light have the very closest analogy; -exalt the rapidity with which the molecules move and light appears, the -difference being only one of intensity. - -Again, if electricity be our starting point, we may accomplish its -conversion into the other forces. Heat results whenever its passage is -interrupted or resisted; a wire of the poorly conducting metal platinum -becoming even red-hot by the converted electricity. To produce light, of -course, we need only to intensify this action; the brightest artificial -light known, results from a direct conversion of electricity. - -Enough has now been said to establish our point. What is to be -particularly observed of these pieces of apparatus is that they are -machines especially designed for the conversion of some one force into -another. And we expect of them only that conversion. We pass on to -consider for a moment the quantitative relations of this mutual -convertibility. We notice, in the first place, that in all cases save -one, the conversion is not perfect, a part of the force used not being -utilized, on the one hand, and on the other, other forces making their -appearance simultaneously. While, for example, the conversion of motion -into heat is quite complete, the inverse conversion is not at all so. -And on the other hand, when motion is converted into electricity, a part -of it appears as heat. This simultaneous production of many forces is -well illustrated by our little bell-engine, which converts the -electricity of the thermo-battery into magnetism, and this into motion, -a part of which expends itself as sound. For these reasons the question -“How much?” is one not easily answered in all cases. The best known of -these relations is that between motion and heat, which was first -established by Mr. Joule in 1849, after seven years of patient -investigation.[10] The apparatus which he used is shown in the diagram. -It consists of a cylindrical box of metal, through the cover of which -passes a shaft, carrying upon its lower end a set of paddles, immersed -in water within the box, and upon its upper portion a drum, on which are -wound two cords, which, passing in opposite directions, run over -pulleys, and are attached to known weights. The temperature of the water -within the box being carefully noted, the weights are then allowed to -fall a certain number of times, of course in their fall turning the -paddles against the friction of the liquid. At the close of the -experiment the water is found to be warmer than before. And by measuring -the amount of this rise in temperature, knowing the distance through -which the weights have fallen, it is easy to calculate the quantity of -heat which corresponds to a given amount of motion. In this way, and as -a mean of a large number of experiments, Mr. Joule found that the amount -of mass motion in a body weighing one pound, which had fallen from a -hight of 772 feet, was exactly equal to the molecular motion which must -be added to a pound of water, in order to heat it one degree Fahrenheit. -If we call the actual energy of a body weighing one pound which has -fallen one foot, a foot-pound, then we may speak of the mechanical -equivalent of heat as being 772 foot-pounds. - -The significance and value of this numerical constant will appear more -clearly if we apply it to the solution of one or two simple problems. -During the recent war two immense iron guns were cast in Pittsburgh, -whose weight was nearly 112,000 pounds each, and which had a caliber of -20 inches.[11] Upon this diagram is a calculation of the effective blow -which the solid shot of such a gun, assuming its weight to be 1,000 -pounds and its velocity 1,100 feet per second, would give; it is 902,797 -tons![12] Now, if it were possible to convert the whole of this enormous -mechanical power into heat, to how much would it correspond? This -question may be answered by the aid of the mechanical equivalent of -heat; here is the calculation, from which we see that when 17 gallons of -ice-cold water are heated to the boiling point, as much energy is -communicated as is contained in the death-dealing missile at its highest -velocity.[13] Again, if we take the impact of a larger cannon-ball, our -earth, which is whirling through space with a velocity of 19 miles a -second, we find it to be 98,416,136,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 -tons![14] Were this energy all converted into heat, it would equal that -produced by the combustion of 14 earths of solid coal.[15] - -The conversion of heat into motion, however, as already stated, is not -as perfect. The best steam-engines economize only one-twentieth of the -heat of the fuel.[16] Hence if a steamship require 600 tons of coal to -carry her across the Atlantic, 570 tons will be expended in heating the -waters of the ocean, the heat of the remaining 30 tons only being -converted into work. - -One other quantitative determination of force has also been made. Prof. -Julius Thomsen, of Copenhagen, has fixed experimentally the mechanical -equivalent of light.[17] He finds that the energy of the light of a -spermaceti candle burning 126½ grains per hour, is equal in mechanical -value to 13·1 foot-pounds per minute. The same conclusion has been -reached by Mr. Farmer, of Boston, from different data.[18] - -If we pass from the actual physical energies or motions to consider for -a moment the potential energies or attractions, we find, also, an -intimate correlation. Since all energy not active in motion is potential -in attraction, it follows that in the attractions we have energy stored -up for subsequent use. The sun is thus storing up energy: every minute -it raises 2,000,000,000 tons of water to the mean hight of the clouds, -3½ miles; and the actual energy set free when this water falls is equal -to 2,757,000,000,000 horse-powers.[19] So when the oxygen and the zinc -of the ore are separated in the furnace, the actual energy of heat -becomes the potential energy of chemical attraction, which again becomes -actual in the form of electricity when the zinc is dissolved in an acid. -We see, then, that not only may any form of force or actual energy be -stored up as any form of attraction or potential energy, but that the -latter, from whatsoever source derived, may appear as heat, light, -electricity, or mechanical motion. - -Having now established the fact of correlation for the physical forces, -we have next to inquire what are the evidences of the correlation of the -vital forces with them. But in the first place it must be remarked that -life is not a simple term like heat or electricity; it is a complex -term, and includes all those phenomena which a living body exhibits. In -this discussion, therefore, we shall use the term vital force to express -only the actual energy of the body, however manifested. As to the -attractions or the potential energy of the organism, nothing is more -fully settled in science than the fact that these are precisely the same -within the body as without it. Every particle of matter within the body -obeys implicitly the laws of the chemical and physical attractions. No -overpowering or supernatural agency comes in to complicate their action, -which is modified only by the action of the others. Vitality, therefore, -is the sum of the energies of a living body, both potential and actual. - -Moreover, the important fact must be fully recognized that in living -beings we have to do with no new elementary forms of matter. Precisely -the same atoms which build up the inorganic fabric, compose the organic. -In the early days of chemistry, indeed, it was supposed that the -complicated molecules which life produced were beyond the reach of -simple chemical law. But as more and more complex molecules have been, -one after another, produced, chemistry has become re-assured, and now -doubts not her ability to produce them all. A few years hence, and she -will doubtless give us quinine and protagon, as she now gives us -coumarin and neurine, substances the synthesis of which was but -yesterday an impossibility.[20] - -In studying the phenomena of living beings, it is important also to bear -in mind the different and at the same time the coördinate purposes -subserved by the two great kingdoms of nature. The food of the plant is -matter whose energy is all expended; it is a fallen weight. But the -plant-organism receives it, exposes it to the sun’s ray, and, in a way -yet mysterious to us, converts the actual energy of the sunlight into -potential energy within it. The fallen weight is thus raised, and energy -is stored up in substances which now are alone competent to become the -food of the animal. This food is not such because any new atoms have -been added to it; it is food because it contains within it potential -energy, which at any time may become actual as force. This food the -animal now appropriates; he brings it in contact with oxygen, and the -potential energy becomes actual; he cuts the string, the weight falls, -and what was just now only attraction, has become actual force; this -force he uses for his own purposes, and hands back the oxidized matter, -the fallen weight, to the plant to be again de-oxidized, to be again -raised. The plant then is to be regarded as a machine for converting -sunlight into potential energy; the animal, a machine for setting the -potential energy free as actual, and economizing it. The force which the -plant stores up is undeniably physical; must not the force which the -animal sets free by its conversion, be intimately correlated to it? - -But approaching our question still more closely, let us, in illustration -of the vital forces of the animal economy, choose three forms of its -manifestation in which to seek for the evidences of correlation; these -shall be heat, evolved within the body; muscular energy or motion; and -lastly, nervous energy, or that form of force which, on the one hand, -stimulates a muscle to contract, and on the other, appears in forms -called mental. - -The heat which is produced by the living body is obviously of the same -nature as heat from any other source; it is recognized by the same -tests, and may be applied for the same purposes. As to its origin, it is -evident that since potential energy exists in the food which enters the -body, and is there converted into force, a portion of it may become the -actual energy of heat. And since, too, the heat produced in the body is -precisely such as would be set free by the combustion of this food -outside of it, it is fair to assume that it thus originates. To this may -be added the chemical argument that while food capable of yielding heat -by combustion is taken into the body, its constituents are completely or -almost completely, oxidized before leaving it; and since oxidation -always evolves heat, the heat of the body must have its origin in the -oxidation of the food. Moreover, careful measurements have demonstrated -that the amount of heat given off by the body of a man weighing 180 -pounds is about 2,500,000 units. Accurate calculations have shown, on -the other hand, that 288·4 grams of carbon and 12·56 grams of hydrogen -are available in the daily food for the production of heat. If burned -out of the body, these quantities of carbon and hydrogen would yield -2,765,134 heat units. Burned within it, as we have just seen, 2,500,000 -units appear as heat; the rest in other forms of energy.[21] We -conceive, however, that no long argument is necessary to prove that -animal heat results from a conversion of energy within the body; or that -the vital force heat, is as truly correlated to the other forces as when -it has a purely physical origin. - -The belief that the muscular force exerted by an animal is created by -him is by no means confined to the very earliest ages of history. -Traces of it appear to the careful observer even now, although, as Dr. -Frankland says, science has proved that “an animal can no more -generate an amount of force capable of moving a grain of sand than a -stone can fall upward or a locomotive drive a train without fuel.”[22] -In studying the characters of muscular action we notice, first, that, -as in the case of heat, the force which it develops is in no wise -different from motion in inorganic nature. In the early part of the -lecture, motion produced by the contraction of muscle, was used to -show the conversion of mass-force into molecular force. No one in this -room believes, I presume, that the result would have been at all -different, had the motion been supplied by a steam-engine or a -water-wheel. Again, food, as we have seen, is of value for the -potential energy it contains, which may become actual in the body. -Liebig, in 1842, asserted that for the production of muscular force, -the food must first be converted into muscular tissue,[23] a view -until recently accepted by physiologists.[24] It has been conclusively -shown, however, within a few years, that muscular force cannot come -from the oxidation of its own substance, since the products of this -metamorphosis are not increased in amount by muscular exertion.[25] -Indeed, reasoning from the whole amount of such products excreted, the -oxidation of the amount of muscle which they represent would furnish -scarcely one-fifth of the mechanical force of the body. But while the -products of tissue-oxidation do not increase with the increase of -muscular exertion, the amount of carbonic gas exhaled by the lungs is -increased in the exact ratio of the work done.[26] No doubt can be -entertained, therefore, that the actual energy of the muscle is simply -the converted potential energy of the carbon of the food. A muscle, -therefore, like a steam-engine, is a machine for converting the -potential energy of carbon into motion. But unlike a steam-engine, the -muscle accomplishes this conversion directly, the energy not passing -through the intermediate stage of heat. For this reason, the muscle is -the most economical producer of mechanical force known. While no -machine whatever can transform all of the energy into motion—the most -economical steam-engines utilizing only one-twentieth of the heat—the -muscle is able to convert one-fifth of the energy of the food into -work.[27] The other four-fifths must, therefore, appear as heat. -Whenever a muscle contracts, then, four times as much energy appears -as heat as is converted into motion. Direct experiments by Heidenhain -have confirmed this, by showing that an important rise of temperature -attends muscular contraction;[28] a fact, however, apparent to any one -who has ever taken active exercise. The work done by the animal body -is of two sorts, internal and external. The former includes the action -of the heart, of the respiratory muscles, and of those assisting the -digestive process. The latter refers to the useful work the body may -perform. Careful estimates place the entire work of the body at about -800 foot-tons daily; of which 450 foot-tons is internal, 350 foot-tons -external work. And since the internal work ultimately appears as heat -within the body, the actual loss of heat by the production of motion -is the equivalent of the 350 foot-tons which represents external work. -This by a simple calculation will be found to be 250,000 heat units, -almost the precise amount by which the heat yielded by the food when -burned without the body, exceeds that actually evolved by the -organism. Moreover, while the total heat given off by the body is -2,500,000 units, the amount of energy evolved as work is equal to -about 600,000 heat units; hence the amount of work done by a muscle is -as above stated, one-fifth of the actual energy derivable from the -food. One point further. The law of correlation requires that the heat -set free when a muscle in contracting does work, shall be less than -when it effects nothing; this fact, too, has been experimentally -established by Heidenhain.[29] So, again, when muscular contraction -does not result in motion, as when one tries to raise a weight too -heavy for him, the energy which would have appeared as work, takes the -form of heat: a result deducible by the law of correlation from the -steam-engine. - -The last of the so-called vital forces which we are to examine, is that -produced by the nerves and nervous centers. In the nerve which -stimulates a muscle to contract, this force is undeniably motion, since -it is propagated along this nerve from one extremity to the other. In -common language, too, this idea finds currency in the comparison of this -force to electricity; the gray or cellular matter being the battery, the -white or fibrous matter the conductors. That this force is not -electricity, however, Du Bois-Reymond has demonstrated by showing that -its velocity is only 97 feet in a second, a speed equaled by the -greyhound and the race-horse.[30] In his opinion, the propagation of a -nervous impulse is a sort of successive molecular polarization, like -magnetism. But that this agent is a force, as analogous to electricity -as is magnetism, is shown not only by the fact that the transmission of -electricity along a nerve will cause the contraction of the muscle to -which it leads, but also by the more important fact that the contraction -of a muscle is excited by diminishing its normal electrical current;[31] -a result which could take place only with a stimulus closely allied to -electricity. Nerve-force, therefore, must be a transmuted potential -energy. - -What, now, shall we say of that highest manifestation of animal life, -thought-power? Has the upper region called intelligence and reason, any -relations to physical force? This realm has not escaped the searching -investigation of modern science; and although in it investigations are -vastly more difficult than in any of the regions thus far considered, -yet some results of great value have been obtained, which may help us to -a solution of our problem. It is to be observed at the outset that every -external manifestation of thought-force is a muscular one, as a word -spoken or written, a gesture, or an expression of the face; and hence -this force must be intimately correlated with nerve-force. These -manifestations, reaching the mind through the avenues of sense, awaken -accordant trains of thought only when this muscular evidence is -understood. A blank sheet of paper excites no emotion; even covered with -Assyrian cuneiform characters, its alternations of black and white -awaken no response in the ordinary brain. It is only when, by a frequent -repetition of these impressions, the brain-cell has been educated, that -these before meaningless characters awaken thought. Is thought, then, -simply a cell action which may or may not result in muscular -expression—an action which originates new combinations of truth only, -precisely as a calculating machine evolves new combinations of figures? -Whatever we define thought to be, this fact appears certain, that it is -capable of external manifestation by conversion into the actual energy -of motion, and only by this conversion. But here the question arises, -Can it be manifested inwardly without such a transformation of energy? -Or is the evolution of thought entirely independent of the matter of the -brain? Experiments, ingenious and reliable, have answered this question. -The importance of the results will, I trust, warrant me in examining the -methods employed in these experiments somewhat in detail. Inasmuch as -our methods for measuring minute amounts of electricity are very -perfect, and the methods for the conversion of heat into electricity are -equally delicate, it has been found that smaller differences of -temperature may be recognized by converting the heat into electricity, -than can be detected thermometrically. The apparatus, first used by -Melloni in 1832,[32] is very simple, consisting first, of a pair of -metallic bars like those described in the early part of the lecture, for -effecting the conversion of the heat; and second, of a delicate -galvanometer, for measuring the electricity produced. In the experiments -in question one of the bars used was made of bismuth, the other of an -alloy of antimony and zinc.[33] Preliminary trials having shown that any -change of temperature within the skull was soonest manifested externally -in that depression which exists just above the occipital protuberance, a -pair of these little bars was fastened to the head at this point; and to -neutralize the results of a general rise of temperature over the whole -body, a second pair, reversed in direction, was attached to the leg or -arm, so that if a like increase of heat came to both, the electricity -developed by one would be neutralized by the other, and no effect be -produced upon the needle unless only one was affected. By long practice -it was ascertained that a state of mental torpor could be induced, -lasting for hours, in which the needle remained stationary. But let a -person knock on the door outside the room, or speak a single word, even -though the experimenter remained absolutely passive, and the reception -of the intelligence caused the needle to swing through 20 degrees.[34] -In explanation of this production of heat, the analogy of the muscle at -once suggests itself. No conversion of energy is complete; and as the -heat of muscular action represents force which has escaped conversion -into motion, so the heat evolved during the reception of an idea, is -energy which has escaped conversion into thought, from precisely the -same cause. Moreover, these experiments have shown that ideas which -affect the emotions, produce most heat in their reception; “a few -minutes’ recitation to one’s self of emotional poetry, producing more -effect than several hours of deep thought.” Hence it is evident that the -mechanism for the production of deep thought, accomplishes this -conversion of energy far more perfectly than that which produces simply -emotion. But we may take a step further in this same direction. A -muscle, precisely as the law of correlation requires, develops less heat -when doing work than when it contracts without doing it. Suppose, now, -that beside the simple reception of an idea by the brain, the thought is -expressed outwardly by some muscular sign. The conversion now takes two -directions, and in addition to the production of thought, a portion of -the energy appears as nerve and muscle-power; less, therefore, should -appear as heat, according to our law of correlation. Dr. Lombard’s -experiments have shown that the amount of heat developed by the -recitation to one’s self of emotional poetry, was in every case less -when that recitation was oral; _i.e._, had a muscular expression. These -results are in accordance with the well-known fact that emotion often -finds relief in physical demonstrations; thus diminishing the emotional -energy by converting it into muscular. Nor do these facts rest upon -physical evidence alone. Chemistry teaches that thought-force, like -muscle-force, comes from the food; and demonstrates that the force -evolved by the brain, like that produced by the muscle, comes not from -the disintegration of its own tissue, but is the converted energy of -burning carbon.[35] Can we longer doubt, then, that the brain, too, is a -machine for the conversion of energy? Can we longer refuse to believe -that even thought is, in some mysterious way, correlated to the other -natural forces? and this, even in face of the fact that it has never yet -been measured?[36] - -I cannot close without saying a word concerning the part which our own -country has had in the development of these great truths. Beginning with -heat, we find that the material theory of caloric is indebted for its -overthrow more to the distinguished Count Rumford than to any other one -man. While superintending the boring of cannon at the Munich Arsenal -towards the close of the last century, he was struck by the large amount -of heat developed, and instituted a careful series of experiments to -ascertain its origin. These experiments led him to the conclusion that -“anything which any insulated body or system of bodies can continue to -furnish without limitation, cannot possibly be a material substance.” -But this man, to whom must be ascribed the discovery of the first great -law of the correlation of energy, was an American. Born in Woburn, -Mass., in 1753, he, under the name of Benjamin Thompson, taught school -afterward at Concord, N. H., then called Rumford. Unjustly suspected of -toryism during our Revolutionary war, he went abroad and distinguished -himself in the service of several of the Governments of Europe. He did -not forget his native land, though she had treated him so unfairly; when -the honor of knighthood was tendered him, he chose as his title the name -of the Yankee village where he had taught school, and was thenceforward -known as Count Rumford. And at his death, by founding a professorship in -Harvard College, and donating a prize-fund to the American Academy of -Arts and Sciences at Boston, he showed his interest in her prosperity -and advancement.[37] Nor has the field of vital forces been without -earnest workers belonging to our own country. Professors John W. -Draper[38] and Joseph Henry[39] were among its earliest explorers. And -in 1851, Dr. J. H. Watters, now of St. Louis, published a theory of the -origin of vital force, almost identical with that for which Dr. -Carpenter, of London, has of late received so much credit. Indeed, there -is some reason to believe that Dr. Watters’s essay may have suggested to -the distinguished English physiologist the germs of his own theory.[40] -A paper on this subject by Prof. Joseph Leconte, of Columbia, S. C., -published in 1859, attracted much attention abroad.[41] The remarkable -results already given on the relation of heat to mental work, which thus -far are unique in science, we owe to Professor J. S. Lombard, of Harvard -College;[42] the very combination of metals used in his apparatus being -devised by our distinguished electrical engineer, Mr. Moses G. Farmer. -Finally, researches conducted by Dr. T. R. Noyes in the Physiological -Laboratory of Yale College, have confirmed the theory that muscular -tissue does not wear during action, up to the point of fatigue;[43] and -other researches by Dr. L. H. Wood have first established the same great -truth for brain-tissue.[44] We need not be ashamed, then, of our part in -this advance in science. Our workers are, indeed, but few; but both they -and their results will live in the records of the world’s progress. More -would there be now of them were such studies more fostered and -encouraged. Self-denying, earnest men are ready to give themselves up to -the solution of these problems, if only the means of a bare subsistence -be allowed them. When wealth shall foster science, science will increase -wealth—wealth pecuniary, it is true: but also wealth of knowledge, which -is far better. - -In looking back over the whole of this discussion, I trust that it is -possible to see that the objects which we had in view at its -commencement have been more or less fully attained. I would fain believe -that we now see more clearly the beautiful harmonies of bounteous -nature; that on her many-stringed instrument force answers to force, -like the notes of a great symphony; disappearing now in potential -energy, and anon reappearing as actual energy, in a multitude of forms. -I would hope that this wonderful unity and mutual interaction of force -in the dead forms of inorganic nature, appears to you identical in the -living forms of animal and vegetable life, which make of our earth an -Eden. That even that mysterious, and in many aspects awful, power of -thought, by which man influences the present and future ages, is a part -of this great ocean of energy. But here the great question rolls upon -us, Is it only this? Is there not behind this material substance, a -higher than molecular power in the thoughts which are immortalized in -the poetry of a Milton or a Shakespeare, the art creations of a Michael -Angelo or a Titian, the harmonies of a Mozart or a Beethoven? Is there -really no immortal portion separable from this brain-tissue, though yet -mysteriously united to it? In a word, does this curiously-fashioned body -inclose a soul, God-given and to God returning? Here Science veils her -face and bows in reverence before the Almighty. We have passed the -boundaries by which physical science is enclosed. No crucible, no subtle -magnetic needle can answer now our questions. No word but His who formed -us, can break the awful silence. In presence of such a revelation -Science is dumb, and faith comes in joyfully to accept that higher truth -which can never be the object of physical demonstration. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - NOTES AND REFERENCES. - - -Footnote 1: - - HUMBOLDT, Views of Nature, Bohn’s ed., London, 1850, p. 380. This - allegory did not appear in the first edition of the Views of Nature. - In the preface to the second edition the author gives the following - account of its origin: “Schiller,” he says, “in remembrance of his - youthful medical studies, loved to converse with me, during my long - stay at Jena, on physiological subjects.” * * * “It was at this period - that I wrote the little allegory on Vital Force, called The Rhodian - Genius. The predilection which Schiller entertained for this piece, - which he admitted into his periodical, _Die Horen_, gave me courage to - introduce it here.” It was published in _Die Horen_ in 1795. - -Footnote 2: - - HUMBOLDT, _op. cit._, p. 386. In his _Aphorismi ex doctrina - Physiologiæ chemicæ Plantarum_, appended to his _Flora Fribergensis - subterranea_, published in 1793, Humboldt had said “Vim internam, quæ - chymicæ affinitatis vincula resolvit, atque obstat, quominus elementa - corporum libere conjungantur, vitalem vocamus.” “That internal force, - which dissolves the bonds of chemical affinity, and prevents the - elements of bodies from freely uniting, we call vital.” But in a note - to the allegory above mentioned, added to the third edition of the - Views of Nature in 1849, he says: “Reflection and prolonged study in - the departments of physiology and chemistry have deeply shaken my - earlier belief in peculiar so-called vital forces. In the year 1797, * - * * I already declared that I by no means regarded the existence of - these peculiar vital forces as established.” And again: “The - difficulty of satisfactorily referring the vital phenomena of the - organism to physical and chemical laws depends chiefly (and almost in - the same manner as the prediction of meteorological processes in the - atmosphere) on the complication of the phenomena, and on the great - number of the simultaneously acting forces as well as the conditions - of their activity.” - -Footnote 3: - - Compare HENRY BENCE JONES, Croonian Lectures on Matter and Force. - London, 1868, John Churchill & Sons. - -Footnote 4: - - Ib., Preface, p. vi. - -Footnote 5: - - RANKINE, W. J. M., Philosophical Magazine, Feb., 1853. Also Edinburgh - Philosophical Journal, July, 1855. - -Footnote 6: - - ARMSTRONG, Sir WM. In his address as President of the British - Association for the Advancement of Science. Rep. Brit. Assoc., 1863, - li. - -Footnote 7: - - GROVE, W. R., in 1842. Compare “Nature” i, 335, Jan. 27, 1870. Also - Appleton’s Journal, iii, 324, Mch. 19, 1870. - -Footnote 8: - - Id., in Preface to The Correlation of Physical Forces, 4th ed. - Reprinted in The Correlation and Conservation of Forces, edited by E. - L. Youmans, p. 7. New York, 1865, D. Appleton & Co. - -Footnote 9: - - Id., ib., Am. ed., p. 33 et seq. - -Footnote 10: - - JOULE, J. P., Philosophical Transactions, 1850, p. 61. - -Footnote 11: - - See American Journal of Science, II, xxxvii, 296, 1864. - -Footnote 12: - - The work (W) done by a moving body is commonly expressed by the - formula W = MV^2, in which M, or the mass of the body, is equal to - w/2g; _i.e._, to the weight divided by twice the intensity of gravity. - The work done by our cannon-ball then, would be (1 × (1100)^2)/(2 × - 64⅓) = 9,404·14 foot-tons. If, further, we assume the resisting body - to be of such a character as to bring the ball to rest in moving ¼ of - an inch, then the final pressure would be 9,404·14 × 12 × 4 = - 451,398·7 tons. But since, “in the case of a perfectly elastic body, - or of a resistance proportional to the advance of the center of - gravity of the impinging body from the point at which contact first - takes place, the final pressure (provided the body struck is perfectly - rigid) is double what would occur were the stoppage to occur at the - end of a corresponding advance against a uniform resistance,” this - result must be multiplied by two; and we get (451,398·7 × 2) 902,797 - tons as the crushing pressure of the ball under these conditions. - Note: The author’s thanks are due to his friends Pres. F. A. P. - Barnard and Mr. J. J. Skinner for suggestions on the relation of - impact to statical pressure. - -Footnote 13: - - The unit of impact being that given by a body weighing one pound and - moving one foot a second, the impact of such a body falling from a - hight of 772 feet—the velocity acquired being 222¼ feet per second - (=√(2sg))—would be 1 × (222¼)^2 = 49,408 units, the equivalent in - impact of one heat-unit. A cannon-ball weighing 1000 lbs. and moving - 1100 feet a second would have an impact of (1100)^2 × 1000 = - 1,210,000,000 units. Dividing this by 49,408, the quotient is 24489 - heat units, the equivalent of the impact. The specific heat of iron - being ·1138, this amount of heat would raise the temperature of one - pound of iron 215.191° F. (24,489 × ·1138) or of 1000 pounds of iron - 215° F. 24489 pounds of water heated one degree, is equal to 136½ - pounds, or 17 gallons U. S., heated 180 degrees; _i.e._, from 32° to - 212° F. - -Footnote 14: - - Assuming the density of the earth to be 5·5, its weight would be - 6,500,000,000,000,000,000,000 tons, and its impact—by the formula - given above—would be 1,025,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 - foot-tons. Making the same supposition as in the case of our - cannon-ball, the final pressure would be that here stated. - -Footnote 15: - - TYNDALL, J., Heat considered as a mode of Motion; Am. ed., p. 57, New - York, 1863. - -Footnote 16: - - RANKINE (The Steam-engine and other prime Movers, London, 1866,) gives - the efficiency of Steam-engines as from 1-15th to 1-20th of the heat - of the fuel. - - ARMSTRONG, Sir WM., places this efficiency at 1-10th as the maximum. - In practice, the average result is only 1-30th. Rep. Brit. Assoc., - 1863, p. liv. - - HELMHOLTZ, H. L. F., says: “The best expansive engines give back as - mechanical work only eighteen per cent. of the heat generated by the - fuel.” Interaction of Natural Forces, in Correlation and Conservation - of Forces, p. 227. - -Footnote 17: - - THOMSEN, JULIUS, Poggendorff’s Annalen, cxxv, 348. Also in abstract in - Am. J. Sci., II, xli, 396, May, 1866. - -Footnote 18: - - American Journal of Science, II, xli, 214, March, 1866. - -Footnote 19: - - In this calculation the annual evaporation from the ocean is assumed - to be about 9 feet. (See Dr. BUIST, quoted in Maury’s Phys. Geography - of the Sea, New York, 1861, p. 11.) Calling the water-area of our - globe 150,000,000 square miles, the total evaporation in tons per - minute, would be that here given. Inasmuch as 30,000 pounds raised - one-foot high is a horse-power, the number of horse-powers necessary - to raise this quantity of water 3½ miles in one minute is - 2,757,000,000,000. This amount of energy is precisely that set free - again when this water falls as rain. - -Footnote 20: - - Compare ODLING, WM., Lectures on Animal Chemistry, London, 1866. “In - broad antagonism to the doctrines which only a few years back were - regarded as indisputable, we now find that the chemist, like the - plant, is capable of producing from carbonic acid and water a whole - host of organic bodies, and we see no reason to question his ultimate - ability to reproduce all animal and vegetable principles whatsoever.” - (p. 52.) - - “Already hundreds of organic principles have been built up from their - constituent elements, and there is now no reason to doubt our - capability of producing all organic principles whatsoever in a similar - manner.” (p. 58.) - - Dr. Odling is the successor of Faraday as Fullerian Professor of - Chemistry in the Royal Institution of Great Britain. - -Footnote 21: - - MARSHALL, JOHN, Outlines of Physiology, American edition, 1868, p. - 916. - -Footnote 22: - - FRANKLAND, EDWARD, On the Source of Muscular Power, Proc. Roy. Inst., - June 8, 1866; Am. J. Sci., II, xlii, 393, Nov. 1866. - -Footnote 23: - - LIEBIG, JUSTUS VON, Die organische Chemie in ihrer Anwendung auf - Physiologie und Pathologie, Braunschweig, 1842. Also in his Animal - Chemistry, edition of 1852 (Am. ed., p. 26), where he says “Every - motion increases the amount of organized tissue which undergoes - metamorphosis.” - -Footnote 24: - - Compare DRAPER, JOHN WM. Human Physiology. - - PLAYFAIR, LYON, On the Food of Man in relation to his useful work, - Edinburgh, 1865. Proc. Roy. Inst., Apr. 28, 1865. - - RANKE, Tetanus eine Physiologische Studie, Leipzig, 1865. - - ODLING, _op. cit._ - -Footnote 25: - - VOIT, E., Untersuchungen über den Einfluss des Kochsalzes, des - Kaffees, und der Muskelbewegungen auf den Stoffwechsel, Munich, 1860. - - SMITH, E., Philosophical Transactions, 1861, 747. - - FICK, A., and WISLICENUS, J., Phil. Mag., IV, xxxi, 485. - - FRANKLAND, E., _loc. cit._ - - NOYES, T. R., American Journal Medical Sciences, Oct. 1867. - - PARKES, E. A., Proceedings Royal Society, xv, 339; xvi, 44. - -Footnote 26: - - SMITH, EDWARD, Philosophical Transactions, 1859, 709. - -Footnote 27: - - Authorities differ as to the amount of energy converted by the - steam-engine. (See Note 16.) Compare MARSHALL, _op. cit._, p. 918. - “Whilst, therefore, in an engine one-twentieth part only of the fuel - consumed is utilized as mechanical power, one-fifth of the food - absorbed by man is so appropriated.” - -Footnote 28: - - HEIDENHAIN, Mechanische Leistung Wärmeentwickelung und Stoffumsatz bei - der Muskelthätigkeit, Breslau, 1864. - - See also HAUGHTON, SAMUEL, On the Relation of Food to work, published - in “Medicine in Modern Times,” London, 1869, Macmillan & Co. - -Footnote 29: - - HEIDENHAIN, _op. cit._ Also by FICK, Untersuchungen über - Muskel-arbeit, Basel, 1867. Compare also “Nature,” i, 159, Dec. 9, - 1869. - -Footnote 30: - - DU BOIS-REYMOND, EMIL, On the time required for the transmission of - volition and sensation through the nerves, Proc. Roy. Inst. Also in - Appendix to Bence Jones’s Croonian lectures. - -Footnote 31: - - MARSHALL, _op. cit._, p. 227. - -Footnote 32: - - MELLONI, Ann. Ch. Phys., xlviii, 198. - - See also NOBILI, Bibl. Univ., xliv, 225, 1830; lvii, 1, 1834. - -Footnote 33: - - The apparatus employed is illustrated and fully described in - Brown-Sequard’s Archives de Physiologie, i, 498, June, 1868. By it the - 1-4000th of a degree Centigrade may be indicated. - -Footnote 34: - - LOMBARD, J. S., New York Medical Journal, v, 198, June, 1867. [A part - of these facts were communicated to me directly by their discoverer.] - -Footnote 35: - - WOOD, L. H., On the influence of Mental activity on the Excretion of - Phosphoric acid by the Kidneys. Proceedings Connecticut Medical - Society for 1869, p. 197. - -Footnote 36: - - On this question of vital force, see LIEBIG, Animal Chemistry. “The - increase of mass in a plant is determined by the occurrence of a - decomposition which takes place in certain parts of the plant under - the influence of light and heat.” - - “The modern science of Physiology has left the track of Aristotle. To - the eternal advantage of science, and to the benefit of mankind it no - longer invents a _horror vacui_, a _quinta essentia_, in order to - furnish credulous hearers with solutions and explanations of - phenomena, whose true connection with others, whose ultimate cause is - still unknown.” - - “All the parts of the animal body are produced from a peculiar fluid - circulating in its organism, by virtue of an influence residing in - every cell, in every organ, or part of an organ.” - - “Physiology has sufficiently decisive grounds for the opinion that - every motion, every manifestation of force, is the result of a - transformation of the structure or of its substance; that every - conception, every mental affection, is followed by changes in the - chemical nature of the secreted fluids; that every thought, every - sensation is accompanied by a change in the composition of the - substance of the brain.” - - “All vital activity arises from the mutual action of the oxygen of the - atmosphere and the elements of the food.” - - “As, in the closed galvanic circuit, in consequence of certain changes - which an inorganic body, a metal, undergoes when placed in contact - with an acid, a certain something becomes cognizable by our senses, - which we call a current of electricity; so in the animal body, in - consequence of transformations and changes undergone by matter - previously constituting a part of the organism, certain phenomena of - motion and activity are perceived, and these we call life, or - vitality.” - - “In the animal body we recognize as the ultimate cause of all force - only one cause, the chemical action which the elements of the food and - the oxygen of the air mutually exercise on each other. The only known - ultimate cause of vital force, either in animals or in plants, is a - chemical process.” - - “If we consider the force which determines the vital phenomena as a - property of certain substances, this view leads of itself to a new and - more rigorous consideration of certain singular phenomena, which these - very substances exhibit, in circumstances in which they no longer make - a part of living organisms.” - - Also OWEN, RICHARD, (Derivative Hypothesis of Life and Species, - forming the 40th chapter of his Anatomy of Vertebrates, republished in - Am. J. Sci., II, xlvii, 33, Jan. 1869.) “In the endeavor to clearly - comprehend and explain the functions of the combination of forces - called ‘brain,’ the physiologist is hindered and troubled by the views - of the nature of those cerebral forces which the needs of dogmatic - theology have imposed on mankind.” * * - - “Religion pure and undefiled, can best answer how far it is righteous - or just to charge a neighbor with being unsound in his principles who - holds the term ‘life’ to be a sound expressing the sum of living - phenomena; and who maintains these phenomena to be modes of force into - which other forms of force have passed, from potential to active - states, and reciprocally, through the agency of these sums or - combinations of forces impressing the mind with the ideas signified by - the terms ‘monad,’ ‘moss,’ ‘plant,’ or ‘animal.’” - - And HUXLEY, THOS. H., “On the Physical Basis of Life,” University - Series, No. 1. College Courant, 1870. - - _Per contra_, see the Address of Dr. F. A. P. Barnard, as retiring - President, before the Am. Assoc. for the Advancement of Science, - Chicago meeting, August, 1868. “Thought cannot be a physical force, - because thought admits of no measure.” - - GOULD, BENJ. APTHORP, Address as retiring President, before the - American Association at its Salem meeting, Aug., 1869. - - BEALE, LIONEL S., “Protoplasm, or Life, Matter, and Mind.” London, - 1870. John Churchill & Sons. - -Footnote 37: - - For an excellent account of this distinguished man, see Youmans’s - Introduction to the Correlation and Conservation of Forces, p. xvii. - -Footnote 38: - - DRAPER, J. W., _loc. cit._ - -Footnote 39: - - HENRY, JOSEPH, Agric. Rep. Patent Office, 1857, 440. - -Footnote 40: - - WATTERS, J. H., An Essay on Organic, or Life-force. Written for the - degree of Doctor of Medicine in the University of Pennsylvania, - Philadelphia, 1851. See also St. Louis Medical and Surgical Journal, - II, v, Nos. 3 and 4, 1868; Dec. 1868, and Nov. 10, 1869. - -Footnote 41: - - LECONTE, JOSEPH, The Correlation of Physical, Chemical and Vital - Force, and the Conservation of Force in Vital Phenomena. American - Journal of Science, II, xxviii, 305, Nov. 1859. - -Footnote 42: - - LOMBARD, J. S., _loc. cit._ - -Footnote 43: - - NOYES, T. R., _loc. cit._ - -Footnote 44: - - WOOD, L. H., _loc. cit._ - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - _AS REGARDS PROTOPLASM, ETC._ - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - PREFATORY NOTE. - - -The substance of the greater part of this paper, which has been in the -present form for some time, was delivered, as a lecture, at a -Conversazione of the Royal College of Physicians of Edinburgh, in the -Hall of the College, on the evening of Friday, the 30th of April last. - -It will be found to support itself, so far as the facts are concerned, -on the most recent German physiological literature, as represented by -Rindfleisch, Kühne, and especially Stricker, with which last, for the -production of his “Handbuch,” there is associated every great -histological name in Germany. - - EDINBURGH, _October, 1869_. - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - AS REGARDS PROTOPLASM, ETC. - - -It is a pleasure to perceive Mr. Huxley open his clear little essay with -what we may hold, perhaps, to be the manly and orthodox view of the -character and products of the French writer, Auguste Comte. “In applying -the name of ‘the new philosophy’ to that estimate of the limits of -philosophical inquiry which he” (Professor Huxley), “in common with many -other men of science, holds to be just,” the Archbishop of York -confounds, it seems, this new philosophy with the Positive philosophy of -M. Comte; and thereat Mr. Huxley expresses himself as greatly -astonished. Some of us, for our parts, may be inclined at first to feel -astonished at Mr. Huxley’s astonishment; for the school to which, at -least on the philosophical side, Mr. Huxley seems to belong, is even -notorious for its prostration before Auguste Comte, whom, especially, so -far as method and systematization are concerned, it regards as the -greatest intellect since Bacon. For such, as it was the opinion of Mr. -Buckle, is understood to be the opinion also of Messrs. Grote, Bain, and -Mill. In fact, we may say that such is commonly and currently considered -the characteristic and distinctive opinion of that whole perverted or -inverted reaction which has been called the _Revulsion_. That is to say, -to give this word a moment’s explanation, that the Voltaires and Humes -and Gibbons having long enjoyed an immunity of sneer at man’s blind -pride and wretched superstition—at _his_ silly non-natural honor and -_her_ silly non-natural virtue—a reaction had set in, exulting in -poetry, in the splendor of nature, the nobleness of man, and the purity -of woman, from which reaction again we have, almost within the last -decennium, been revulsively, as it were, called back,—shall we say by -some “bolder” spirits—the Buckles, the Mills, &c.?—to the old -illumination or enlightenment of a hundred years ago, in regard to the -weakness and stupidity of man’s pretensions over the animality and -materiality that limit him. Of this revulsion, then, as said, a main -feature, especially in England, has been prostration before the vast -bulk of Comte; and so it was that Mr. Huxley’s protest in this -reference, considering the philosophy he professed, had that in it to -surprise at first. But if there was surprise, there was also pleasure; -for Mr. Huxley’s estimate of Comte is undoubtedly the right one. “So far -as I am concerned,” he says, “the most reverend prelate” (the Archbishop -of York) “might dialectically hew M. Comte in pieces as a modern Agag, -and I should not attempt to stay his hand; for, so far as my study of -what specially characterizes the Positive philosophy has led me, I find -therein little or nothing of any scientific value, and a great deal -which is as thoroughly antagonistic to the very essence of science as -anything in ultramontane Catholicism.” “It was enough,” he says again, -“to make David Hume turn in his grave, that here, almost within earshot -of his house, an instructed audience should have listened without a -murmur while his most characteristic doctrines were attributed to a -French writer of fifty years’ later date, in whose dreary and verbose -pages we miss alike the vigor of thought and the exquisite clearness of -style of the man whom I make bold to term the most acute thinker of the -eighteenth century—even though that century produced Kant.” - -Of the doctrines themselves which are alluded to here, I shall say -nothing now; but of much else that is said, there is only to be -expressed a hearty and even gratified approval. I demur, to be sure, to -the exaltation of Hume over Kant—high as I place the former. Hume, with -infinite fertility, surprised us, it may be said, perhaps, into -attention on a great variety of points which had hitherto passed -unquestioned; but, even on these points, his success was of an -interrupted, scattered and inconclusive nature. He set the world adrift, -but he set man too, reeling and miserable, adrift with it. Kant, again, -with gravity and reverence, desired to refix, but in purity and truth, -all those relations and institutions which alone give value to -existence—which alone _are_ humanity, in fact—but which Hume, with -levity and mockery, had approached to shake. Kant built up again an -entire new world for us of knowledge and duty, and, in a certain way, -even belief; whereas Hume had sought to dispossess us of every support -that man as man could hope to cling to. In a word, with _at least_ equal -fertility, Kant was, as compared with Hume, a graver, deeper, and, so to -speak, a more consecutive, more comprehensive spirit. Graces there were -indeed, or even, it may be said, subtleties, in which Hume had the -advantage perhaps. He is still in England an unsurpassed master of -expression—this, certainly, in his History, if in his Essays he somewhat -baffles his own self by a certain labored breadth of conscious fine -writing, often singularly inexact and infelicitous. Still Kant, with -reference to his products, must be allowed much the greater importance. -In the history of philosophy he will probably always command as -influential a place in the modern world as Socrates in the ancient; -while, as probably, Hume will occupy at best some such position as that -of Heraclitus or Protagoras. Hume, nevertheless, if equal to Kant, must, -in view at once of his own subjective ability and his enormous -influence, be pronounced one of the most important of writers. It would -be difficult to rate too high the value of his French predecessors and -contemporaries as regards purification of their oppressed and corrupt -country; and Hume must be allowed, though with less call, to have -subserved some such function in the land we live in. In preferring Kant, -indeed, I must be acquitted of an undue partiality; for all that -appertains to personal bias was naturally, and by reason of early and -numerous associations, on the side of my countryman. - -Demurring, then, to Mr. Huxley’s opinion on this matter, and postponing -remark on the doctrines to which he alludes, I must express a hearty -concurrence with every word he utters on Comte. In him I too “find -little or nothing of any scientific value.” I too have been lost in the -mere mirage and sands of “those dreary and verbose pages;” and I -acknowledge in Mr. Huxley’s every word the ring of a genuine experience. -M. Comte was certainly a man of some mathematical and scientific -proficiency, as well as of quick but biased intelligence. A member of -the _Aufklärung_, he had seen the immense advance of physical science -since Newton, under, as is usually said, the method of Bacon; and, like -Hume, like Reid, like Kant, _who had all anticipated him in this_, he -sought to transfer that method to the domain of mind. In this he failed; -and though in a sociological aspect he is not without true glances into -the present disintegration of society and the conditions of it, anything -of importance cannot be claimed for him. There is not a sentence in his -book that, in the hollow elaboration and windy pretentiousness of its -build, is not an exact type of its own constructor. On the whole, -indeed, when we consider the little to which he attained, the empty -inflation of his claims, the monstrous and maniacal self-conceit into -which he was _exalted_, it may appear, perhaps, that charity to M. Comte -himself, to say nothing of the world, should induce us to wish that both -his name and his works were buried in oblivion. Now, truly, that Mr. -Huxley (the “call” being for the moment his) has so pronounced himself, -especially as the facts of the case are exactly and absolutely what he -indicates, perhaps we may expect this consummation not to be so very -long delayed. More than those members of the revulsion already -mentioned, one is apt to suspect, will be anxious now to beat a retreat. -Not that this, however, is so certain to be allowed them; for their -estimate of M. Comte is a valuable element in the estimate of -themselves. - -Frankness on the part of Mr. Huxley is not limited to his opinion of M. -Comte; it accompanies us throughout his whole essay. He seems even to -take pride, indeed, in naming always and everywhere his object at the -plainest. That object, in a general point of view, relates, he tells us, -solely to materialism, but with a double issue. While it is his declared -purpose, in the first place, namely, to lead us into materialism, it is -equally his declared purpose, in the second place, to lead us out of -materialism. On the first issue, for example, he directly warns his -audience that to accept the conclusions which he conceives himself to -have established on Protoplasm, is to accept these also: That “all vital -action” is but “the result of the molecular forces” of the physical -basis; and that, by consequence, to use his own words to his audience, -“the thoughts to which I am now giving utterance, and your thoughts -regarding them, are but the expression of molecular changes in that -matter of life which is the source of our other vital phenomena.” And, -so far, I think, we shall not disagree with Mr. Huxley when he says that -“most undoubtedly the terms of his propositions are distinctly -materialistic.” Still, on the second issue, Mr. Huxley asserts that he -is “individually no materialist.” “On the contrary, he believes -materialism to involve grave philosophical error;” and the “union of -materialistic terminology with the repudiation of materialistic -philosophy” he conceives himself to share “with some of the most -thoughtful men with whom he is acquainted.” In short, to unite both -issues, we have it in Mr. Huxley’s own words, that it is the single -object of his essay “to explain how such a union is not only consistent -with, but necessitated by, sound logic;” and that, accordingly, he will, -in the first place, “lead us through the territory of vital phenomena to -the materialistic slough,” while pointing out, in the second, “the sole -path by which, in his judgment, extrication is possible.” Mr. Huxley’s -essay, then, falls evidently into two parts; and of these two parts we -may say, further, that while the one—that in which he leads us into -materialism—will be predominatingly physiological, the other—or that in -which he leads us out of materialism—will be predominatingly -philosophical. Two corresponding parts would thus seem to be prescribed -to any full discussion of the essay; and of these, in the present needs -of the world, it is evidently the latter that has the more promising -theme. The truth is, however, that Mr. Huxley, after having exerted all -his strength in his first part to throw us into “the materialistic -slough,” by _clear necessity of knowledge_, only calls to us, in his -second part, to come out of this slough again, on the somewhat _obscure -necessity of ignorance_. This, then, is but a lop-sided balance, where a -scale in the air only seems to struggle vainly to raise its -well-weighted fellow on the ground. Mr. Huxley, in fact, possesses no -remedy for materialism but what lies in the expression that, while he -knows not what matter is in itself, he certainly knows that casualty is -but contingent succession; and thus, like the so-called “philosophy” of -the Revulsion, Mr. Huxley would only mock us into the intensest -dogmatism on the one side by a fallacious reference to the intensest -scepticism on the other. - -The present paper, then, will regard mainly Mr. Huxley’s argument _for_ -materialism, but say what is required, at the same time, on his alleged -argument—which is merely the imaginary, or imaginative, impregnation of -ignorance—_against_ it. - -Following Mr. Huxley’s own steps in his essay, the course of his -positions will be found to run, in summary, thus:— - -What is meant by the physical basis of life is, that there is one kind -of matter common to all living beings, and it is named protoplasm. No -doubt it may appear at first sight that, in the various kinds of living -beings, we have only _difference_ before us, as in the lichen on the -rock and the painter that paints it,—the microscopic animalcule or -fungus and the Finner whale or Indian fig,—the flower in the hair of a -girl and the blood in her veins, etc. Nevertheless, throughout these and -all other diversities, there really exists a threefold _unity_—a unity -of faculty, a unity of form, and a unity of substance. - -On the first head, for example, or as regards faculty, power, the -action exhibited, there are but three categories of _human_ -activity—contractility, alimentation, and reproduction; and there are -no fewer for the _lower_ forms of life, whether animal or vegetable. -In the nettle, for instance, we find the woody case of its sting lined -by a granulated, semi-fluid layer, that is possessed of contractility. -But in this respect—that is, in the possession of contractile -substance—other plants are as the nettle, and all animals are as -plants. Protoplasm—for the nettle-layer alluded to is protoplasm—is -common to the whole of them. The difference, in short between the -powers of the lowest plant or animal and those of the highest is one -only of degree and not of kind. - -But, on the second head, it is not otherwise in form, or manifested -external appearance and structure. Not the sting only, but the whole -nettle, is made up of protoplasm; and of all the other vegetables the -nettle is but a type. Nor are animals different. The colorless -blood-corpuscles in man and the rest are identical with the protoplasm -of the nettle; and both he and they consisted at first only of an -aggregation of such. Protoplasm is the common constituent—the common -origin. At last, as at first, all that lives, and every part of all that -lives, are but nucleated or unnucleated, modified or unmodified, -protoplasm. - -But, on the third head, or with reference to unity of substance, to -internal composition, chemistry establishes this also. All forms of -protoplasm, that is, consist alike of carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, and -nitrogen, and behave similarly under similar reagents. - -So, now, a uniform character having in this threefold manner been proved -for protoplasm, what is its origin, and what its fate? Of these the -latter is not far to seek. The fate of protoplasm is death—death into -its chemical constituents; and this determines its origin also. -Protoplasm can originate only in that into which it dies,—the -elements—the carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, and nitrogen—of which it was -found to consist. Hydrogen, with oxygen, forms water; carbon, with -oxygen, carbonic acid; and hydrogen, with nitrogen, ammonia. Similarly, -water, carbonic acid and ammonia form, in union, protoplasm. The -influence of pre-existing protoplasm only determines combination in -_its_ case, as that of the electric spark determines combination in the -case of water. Protoplasm, then, is but an aggregate of physical -materials, exhibiting in combination—only as was to be expected—new -properties. The properties of water are not more different from those of -hydrogen and oxygen than the properties of protoplasm are different from -those of water, carbonic acid, and ammonia. We have the same warrant to -attribute the consequences to the premises in the one case as in the -other. If, on the first stage of combination, represented by that of -water, _simples_ could unite into something so different from -themselves, why, on the second stage of combination, represented by that -of protoplasm, should not _compounds_ similarly unite into something -equally different from themselves? If the constituents are credited with -the properties _there_, why refuse to credit the constituents with the -properties _here_? To the constituents of protoplasm, in truth, any new -element, named vitality, has no more been added, than to the -constituents of water any new element, named aquosity. Nor is there any -logical halting place between this conclusion and the further and final -one: That all vital action whatever, intellectual included, is but the -result of the molecular forces of the protoplasm which displays it. - -These sentences will be acknowledged, I think, fairly to represent Mr. -Huxley’s relative deliverances, and, consequently, as I may be allowed -to explain again, the only important—while much the larger—part of the -whole essay. Mr. Huxley, that is, while devoting fifty paragraphs to our -physiological immersion in the “materialistic slough,” grants but -one-and-twenty towards our philosophical escape from it; the fifty -besides being, so to speak, in reality the wind, and the one-and-twenty -only the whistle for it. What these latter say, in effect, is no more -than this, that,—matter being known not in itself but only in its -qualities, and cause and effect not in their nexus but only in their -sequence,—matter may be spirit or spirit matter, cause effect or effect -cause—in short, for aught that Mr. Huxley more than phenomenally knows, -this may be that or that this, first second, or second first, but the -conclusion shall be this, that he will lay out all our knowledge -materially, and we may lay out all our ignorance immaterially—if we -will. Which reasoning and conclusion, I may merely remark, come -precisely to this: That Mr. Huxley—who, hoping yet to see each object (a -pin, say) not in its qualities but in _itself_, still, consistently -antithetic, cannot believe in the extinction of fire by water or of life -by the rope, for any _reason_ or for any _necessity_ that lies in the -nature of the case, but simply for the habit of the thing—has not yet -put himself at home with the metaphysical categories of _substance_ and -_casualty_; thanks, perhaps, to those guides of his whom we, the amusing -Britons that we are, bravely proclaim “the foremost thinkers of the -day”! - -The matter and manner of the whole essay are now fairly before us, and I -think that, with the approbation of the reader, its procedure, -generally, may be described as an attempt to establish, not by any -complete and systematic induction, but by a variety of partial and -illustrative assertions, two propositions. Of these propositions the -first is, That all animal and vegetable organisms are essentially alike -in power, in form, and in substance; and the second, That all vital and -intellectual functions are the properties of the molecular disposition -and changes of the material basis (protoplasm) of which the various -animals and vegetables consist. In both propositions, the agent of proof -is this same alleged material basis of life, or protoplasm. For the -first of them, all animal and vegetable organisms shall be identified in -protoplasm; and for the second, a simple chemical analogy shall assign -intellect and vitality to the molecular constituents of the protoplasm, -in connection with which they are at least exhibited. - -In order, then, to obtain a footing on the ground offered us, the first -question we naturally put is, What is Protoplasm? And an answer to this -question can be obtained only by a reference to the historical progress -of the physiological cell theory. - -That theory may be said to have wholly grown up since John Hunter wrote -his celebrated work ‘On the Nature of the Blood,’ etc. New growths, to -Hunter, depended on an exudation of the plasma of the blood, in which, -by virtue of its own _plasticity_, vessels formed, and conditioned the -further progress. The influence of these ideas seems to have still -acted, even after a conception of the cell was arrived at. For starting -element, Schleiden required an intracellular plasma, and Schwann a -structureless exudation, in which minute granules, if not indeed already -pre-existent, formed, and by aggregation grew into nuclei, round which -singly the production of a membrane at length enclosed a cell. It was -then that, in this connection, we heard of the terms blastema and -cyto-blastema. The theory of the vegetable cell was completed earlier -than that of the animal one. Completion of this latter, again, seems to -have been first effected by Schwann, after Müller had insisted on the -analogy between animal and vegetable tissue, and Valentin had -demonstrated a nucleus in the animal cell, as previously Brown in the -vegetable one. But assuming Schwann’s labor, and what surrounded it, to -have been a first stage, the wonderful ability of Virchow may be said to -have raised the theory of the cell fully to a second stage. Now, of this -second stage, it is the dissolution or resolution that has led to the -emergence of the word Protoplasm. - -The body, to Virchow, constituted a free state of individual subjects, -with equal rights but unequal capacities. These were the cells, which -consisted each of an enclosing membrane, and an enclosed nucleus with -surrounding intracellular matrix or matter. These cells, further, -propagated themselves, chiefly by partition or division; and the -fundamental principle of the whole theory was expressed in the dictum, -“_Omnis cellula e cellulâ_.” That is, the nucleus, becoming gradually -elongated, at last parted in the midst; and each half, acting as center -of attraction to the surrounding intracellular matrix or contained -matter, stood forth as a new nucleus to a new cell, formed by division -at length of the original cell. - -The first step taken in resolution of this theory was completed by Max -Schultze, preceded by Leydig. This was the elimination of an investing -membrane. Such membrane may, and does, ultimately form; but in the first -instance, it appears, the cell is naked. The second step in the -resolution belongs perhaps to Brücke, though preceded by Bergmann, and -though Max Schultze, Kühne, Haeckel, and others ought to be mentioned in -the same connection. This step was the elimination, or at least -subordination, of the nucleus. The nucleus, we are to understand now, is -necessary neither to the division nor to the existence of the cell. - -Thus, then, stripped of its membrane, relieved of its nucleus, what now -remains for the cell? Why, nothing but what _was_ the contained matter, -the intracellular matrix, and _is_—Protoplasm. - -In the application of this word itself, however, to the element in -question, there are also a step or two to be noticed. The first step was -Dujardin’s discovery of sarcode; and the second the introduction of the -term protoplasm as the name for the layer of the _vegetable_ cell that -lined the cellulose, and enclosed the nucleus. Sarcode, found in certain -of the lower forms of life, was a simple substance that exhibited powers -of spontaneous contraction and movement. Thus, processes of such simple, -soft, contractile matter are protruded by the rhizopods, and locomotion -by their means effected. Remak first extended the use of the term -protoplasm from the layer which bore that name in the vegetable cell to -the analogous element in the animal cell; but it was Max Schultze, in -particular, who, by applying the name to the intracellular matrix, or -contained matter, when divested of membrane, and by identifying this -substance itself with sarcode, first fairly established protoplasm, name -and thing, in its present prominence. - -In this account I have necessarily omitted many subordinate and -intervening steps in the successive establishment of the -_contractility_, superior _importance_, and complete _isolation_ of this -thing to which, under the name of protoplasm, Mr. Huxley of late has -called such vast attention. Besides the names mentioned, there are -others of great eminence in this connection, such as Meyen, Siebold, -Reichert, Ecker, Henle, and Kölliker among the Germans; and among -ourselves, Beale and Huxley himself. John Goodsir will be mentioned -again. - -We have now, perhaps, obtained a general idea of protoplasm. Brücke, -when he talks of it as “living cell-body or elementary organism,” comes -very near the leading idea of Mr. Huxley as expressed in his phrase, -“the physiological basis, or matter, of life.” Living cell-body, -elementary organism, primitive living matter—that, evidently, is the -quest of Mr. Huxley. There is aqueous matter, he would say, perhaps, -composed of hydrogen and oxygen, and it is the same thing whether in the -rain-drop or the ocean; so, similarly, there is vital matter, which, -composed of carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, and nitrogen, is the same thing -whether in cryptogams or in elephants, in animalcules or in men. What, -in fact, Mr. Huxley seeks, probably, is living protein—protein, so to -speak, struck into life. Just such appears to him to be the nature of -protoplasm, and in it he believes himself to possess at last _a living -clay_ wherewith to build the whole organic world. - -The question, What is Protoplasm? is answered, then; but, for the -understanding of what is to follow, there is still one general -consideration to be premised. - -Mr. Huxley’s conception of protoplasm, as we have seen, is that of -living matter, living protein; what we may call, perhaps, elementary -life-stuff. Now, is it quite certain that Mr. Huxley is correct in this -conception? Are we to understand, for example, that cells have now -definitively vanished, and left in their place only a uniform and -universal _matter_ of quite indefinite proportions? No; such an -understanding would be quite wrong. Whatever may be the opinion of the -adherents of the molecular theory of generation, it is certain that all -the great German histologists still hold by the cell, and can hardly -open their mouths without mention of it. I do not allude here to any -special adherents of either nucleus or membrane, but to the most -advanced innovators in both respects; to such men as Schultze and Brücke -and Kühne. These, as we have seen, pretty well confine their attention, -like Mr. Huxley, to the protoplasm. But they do not the less on that -account talk of the cell. For them, it is only in cells that protoplasm -exists. To their view, we cannot fancy protoplasm as so much matter in a -pot, in an ointment-box, any portion of which scooped out in an -ear-picker would be so much life-stuff, and, though a part, quite as -good as the whole. This seems to be Mr. Huxley’s conception, but it is -not theirs. A certain _measure_ goes with protoplasm to constitute it an -organism to them, and worthy of their attention. They refuse to give -consideration to any mere protoplasm-_shred_ that may not have yet -ceased, perhaps, to exhibit all sign of contractility under the -microscope, and demand a protoplasm-_cell_. In short, protoplasm is to -them still distributed into cells, and only that measure of protoplasm -is cell that is adequate to the whole group of vital manifestations. -Brücke, for example, of all innovators probably the most innovating, and -denying, or inclined to deny, both nucleus and membrane, does not -hesitate, according to Stricker, to speak still of cells as -self-complete organisms, that move and grow, that nourish and reproduce -themselves, and that perform specific function. “Omnis cellula e -cellulâ,” is the rubric they work under as much now as ever. The heart -of a turtle, they say, is not a turtle; so neither is a protoplasm-shred -a protoplasm-cell. - -This, then, is the general consideration which I think it necessary to -premise; and it seems, almost of itself, to negate Mr. Huxley’s -reasonings in advance, for it warrants us in denying that physiological -clay of which all living things are but bricks baked, Mr. Huxley -intimates, and in establishing in its place cells as before—living cells -that differ infinitely the one from the other, and so differ from the -very first moment of their existence. This consideration shall not be -allowed to pre-termit, however, an examination of Mr. Huxley’s own -proofs, which will only the more and more avail to indicate the -difference suggested. - -These proofs, as has been said, would, by means of the single fulcrum of -protoplasm, establish, first, the identity, and, second, the -materiality, of all vegetable and animal life. These are, shortly, the -two propositions which we have already seen, and to which, in their -order, we now pass. - -All organisms, then, whether animal or vegetable, have been understood -for some time back to originate in and consist of cells; but the -progress of physiology has _seemed_ now to substitute for cells a single -matter of life, protoplasm; and it is here that Mr. Huxley sees his cue. -Mr. Huxley’s very first word is the “physical basis or matter of life;” -and he supposes “that to many the idea that there is such a thing may be -novel.” This, then, so far, is what is _new_ in Mr. Huxley’s -contribution. He seems to have said to himself, if formerly the whole -world was thought kin in an “ideal” or formal element, organization, I -shall now finally complete this identification in a “physical” or -material element, protoplasm. In short, what at this stage we are asked -to witness in the essay is, the identification of all living beings -whatever in the identity of protoplasm. As there is a single matter, -clay, which is the matter of all bricks, so there is a single matter, -protoplasm, which is the matter of all organisms. “Protoplasm is the -clay of the potter, which, bake it and paint it as he will, remains -clay, separated by artifice, and not by nature, from the commonest brick -or sun-dried clod.” Now here I cannot help stopping a moment to remark -that Mr. Huxley puts emphatically his whole soul into this sentence, and -evidently believes it to be, if we may use the word, a _clincher_. But, -after all, does it say much? or rather, does it say anything? To the -question, “Of what are you made?” the answer, for a long time now, and -by the great mass of human beings who are supposed civilized, has been -“Dust.” Dust, and the same dust, has been allowed to constitute us all. -But materialism has not on that account been the irresistible result. -Attention hitherto—and surely excusably, or even laudably in such a -case—has been given not so much to the dust as to the “potter,” and the -“artifice” by which he could so transform, or, as Mr. Huxley will have -it, _modify_ it. To ask us to say, instead of dust, clay, or even -protoplasm, is not to ask us for much, then, seeing that even to Mr. -Huxley there still remain both the “potter” and his “artifice.” - -But to return: To Mr. Huxley, when he says all bricks, being made of -clay, are the same thing, we answer, Yes, undoubtedly, if they are made -of the same clay. That is, the bricks are identical if the clay is -identical; but, on the other hand, by as much as the clay differs will -the bricks differ. And, similarly, all organisms can be identified only -if their composing protoplasm can be identified. To this stake is the -argument of Mr. Huxley bound. - -This argument itself takes, as we have seen, a threefold course: Mr. -Huxley will prove his position in this place by reference, firstly, to -unity of faculty; secondly, to unity of form; and thirdly, to unity of -substance. It is this course of proof, then, which we have now to -follow, but taking the question of substance, as simplest, first, and -the others later. - -By substance, Mr. Huxley understands the internal or chemical -composition; and, with a mere reference to the action of reagents, he -asserts the protoplasm of all living beings to be an identical -combination of carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, and nitrogen. It is for us to -ask, then, Are all samples of protoplasm identical, first, in their -chemical composition, and, second, under the action of the various -reagents? - -On the first clause, we may say, in the first place, towards a proof of -difference which will only cumulate, I hope, that, even should we grant -in all protoplasm an identity of chemical ingredients, what is called -_Allotropy_ may still have introduced no inconsiderable variety. Ozone -is not antozone, nor is oxygen either, though in chemical constitution -all are alike. In the second place, again, we may say that, with -_varying proportions_, the same component parts produce very various -results. By way of illustration, it will suffice to refer to such -different things as the proteids, gluten, albumen, fibrin, gelatine, -etc., compared with the urinary products, urea and uric acid; or with -the biliary products, glycocol, glycocolic acid, bili-rubin, -bili-verdin, etc.; and yet all these substances, varying so much the one -from the other, are, as protoplasm is, compounds of carbon, hydrogen, -oxygen, and nitrogen. But, in the third place, we are not limited to a -_may say_; we can assert the fact that all protoplasm is not chemically -identical. All the tissues of the organism are called protoplasm by Mr. -Huxley; but can we predicate chemical identity of muscle and bone, for -example? In such cases Mr. Huxley, it is true, may bring the word -“modified” into use; but the objection of modification we shall examine -later. In the mean time, we are justified, by Mr. Huxley’s very -argument, in regarding all organized tissues whatever as protoplasm; for -if these tissues are not to be identified in protoplasm, we must suppose -denied what it was his one business to affirm. And it is against that -affirmation that we point to the fact of much chemical difference -obtaining among the tissues, not only in the _proportions_ of their -fundamental elements, but also in the _addition_ (and proportions as -well) of such others as chlorine, sulphur, phosphorus, potash, soda, -lime, magnesia, iron, etc. Vast differences vitally must be legitimately -assumed for tissues that are so different chemically. But, in the fourth -place, we have the authority of the Germans for asserting that the cells -themselves—and they now, to the most advanced, are only protoplasm—do -differ chemically, some being found to contain glycogen, some -cholesterine, some protogon, and some myosin. Now such substances, let -the chemical analogy be what it may, must still be allowed to introduce -chemical difference. In the last place, Mr. Huxley’s analysis is an -analysis of _dead_ protoplasm, and indecisive, consequently, for that -which lives. Mr. Huxley betrays sensitiveness in advance to this -objection; for he seeks to rise above the sensitiveness and the -objection at once by styling the latter “frivolous.” Nevertheless the -Germans say pointedly that it is unknown whether the same elements are -to be referred to the cells after as before death. Kühne does not -consider it proved that living muscle contains syntonin; yet Mr. Huxley -tells us, in his Physiology, that “syntonin is the chief constituent of -muscle and flesh.” In general, we may say, according to Stricker, that -all weight is put now on the examination of living tissue, and that the -difference is fully allowed between that and dead tissue. - -On the second clause now, or with regard to the action of reagents, -these must be denied to produce the like result on the various forms of -protoplasm. With reference to temperature, for example, Kühne reports -the movements of the amoeba to be arrested in iced water; while, in the -same medium, the ova of the trout furrow famously, but perish even in a -warmed room. Others, again, we are told, may be actually dried, and yet -live. Of ova in general, in this connection, it is said that they live -or die according as the temperature to which they are exposed differs -little or much from that which is natural to the organisms producing -them. In some, according to Max Schultze, even distilled water is enough -to arrest movement. Now, not to dwell longer here, both amoeba and ova -are to Mr. Huxley pure protoplasm; and such difference of result, -according to difference of temperature, etc., must assuredly be allowed -to point to a difference of original nature. Any conclusion so far, -then, in regard to unity of substance, whether the chemical composition -or the action of reagents be considered, cannot be said to bear out the -views of Mr. Huxley. - -What now of the unities of form and power in protoplasm? By form, Mr. -Huxley will be found to mean the general appearance and structure; and -by faculty or power, the action exhibited. Now it will be very easy to -prove that, in neither respect, do all specimens of protoplasm agree. -Mr. Huxley’s representative protoplasm, it appears, is that of the -nettle-sting; and he describes it as a granulated, semi-fluid body, -contractile in mass, and contractile also in detail to the development -of a species of circulation. Stricker, again, speaks of it as a -homogeneous substance, in which any granules that may appear must be -considered of foreign importation, and in which there are no evidences -of circulation. In this last respect, then, that Mr. Huxley should talk -of “tiny Maelstroms,” such as even in the silence of a tropical noon -might stun us, if heard, as “with the roar of a great city,” may be -viewed, perhaps, as a rise into poetry beyond the occasion. - -Further, according to Stricker, protoplasm varies almost infinitely in -consistence, in shape, in structure, and in function. In consistence, it -is sometimes so fluid as to be capable of forming in drops; sometimes -semi-fluid and gelatinous; sometimes of considerable resistance. In -shape—for to Stricker the cells are now protoplasm—we have club-shaped -protoplasm, globe-shaped protoplasm, cup-shaped protoplasm, -bottle-shaped protoplasm, spindle-shaped protoplasm—branched, threaded, -ciliated protoplasm,—circle-headed protoplasm—flat, conical, -cylindrical, longitudinal, prismatic, polyhedral, and palisade-like -protoplasm. In structure, again, it is sometimes uniform and sometimes -reticulated into interspaces that contain fluid. In function, lastly—and -here we have entered on the consideration of faculty or power—some -protoplasm is vagrant (so to translate _wandernd_), and of unknown use, -like the colorless blood-corpuscles. - -In reference to these, as strengthening the argument, and throwing much -light generally, I break off a moment to say that, very interesting as -they are in themselves, and as Recklinghausen, in especial, has made -them, Mr. Huxley’s theory of them disagrees considerably with the -prevalent German one. He speaks of them as the source of the body in -general, yet, in his Physiology, he talks of the spleen, the lymphatics, -and even the liver—_parts_ of the body—as _their_ source. They are so -few in number that, while Mr. Huxley is thankful to be able to point to -the inside of the lips as a seat for them, they bear to the red -corpuscles only the proportion of 1 to 450. This disproportion, however, -is no bar to Mr. Huxley’s derivation of the latter from the former. But -the fact is questioned. The Germans, generally, for their, part, -describe the colorless, or vagrant, blood-corpuscles as probably media -of conjugation or reparation, but acknowledge their function to be as -yet quite unknown; while Rindfleisch, characterizing the spleen as the -grave of the red, and the womb of the white, corpuscles, evidently -refers the latter to the former. This, indeed, is a matter of direct -assertion with Preyer, who has “shown that pieces of red -blood-corpuscles may be eaten by the amoeboid cells of the frog,” and -holds that the latter (the white corpuscles) proceed directly from the -former (the red corpuscles); so that it seems to be determined in the -mean time that there is no proof of the reverse being the fact. - -In function, then, to resume, some protoplasm is vagrant, and of unknown -use. Some again produces pepsine, and some fat. Some at least contains -pigment. Then there is nerve-protoplasm, brain-protoplasm, -bone-protoplasm, muscle-protoplasm, and protoplasm of all the other -tissues, no one of which but produces only its own kind, and is -uninterchangeable with the rest. Lastly, on this head, we have to point -to the overwhelming fact that there is the infinitely different -protoplasm of the various infinitely different plants and animals, in -each of which its own protoplasm, as in the case of that of the various -tissues, but produces its own kind, and is uninterchangeable with that -of the rest. - -It may be objected, indeed, that these latter are examples of modified -protoplasm. The objection of modification, as said, we have to see by -itself later; but, in the mean time, it may be asked, Where are we to -begin, _not_ to have modified protoplasm? We have the example of Mr. -Huxley himself, who, in the nettle-sting, begins already with modified -protoplasm; and we have the authority of Rindfleisch for asserting that -“in every different tissue we must look for a different initial term of -the productive series.” This, evidently, is a very strong light on the -original multiplicity of protoplasm, which the consideration, as we have -seen, of the various plants and animals, has made, further, infinite. -This is enough; but there is no wish to evade beginning with the very -beginning—with absolutely pure initial protoplasm, if it can but be -given us in any reference. The simple egg—that, probably is the -beginning—that, probably, is the original identity; yet even there we -find already distribution of the identity into infinite difference. -This, certainly, with reference to the various organisms, but with -reference also to the various tissues. That we regard the egg as the -beginning, and that we do not start, like the smaller exceptional -physiological school, with molecules themselves, depends on this, that -the great Germans so often alluded to, Kühne among them, still trust in -the experiments of Pasteur; and while they do not deny the possibility, -or even the fact, of molecular generation, still feel justified in -denying the existence of any observation that yet unassailably attests a -_generatio æquivoca_. By such authority as this the simple philosophical -spectator has no choice but to take his stand; and therefore it is that -I assume the egg as the established beginning, so far, of all vegetable -and animal organisms. To the egg, too, as the beginning, Mr. Huxley, -though the lining of the nettle-sting is his representative protoplasm, -at least refers. “In the earliest condition of the human organism,” he -says, in allusion to the white (vagrant) corpuscles of the blood, “in -that state in which it has but just become distinguished from the egg in -which it arises, it is nothing but an aggregation of such corpuscles, -and every organ of the body was once no more than such an aggregation.” -Now, in beginning with the egg—an absolute beginning being denied us in -consequence of the pre-existent infinite difference of the egg or eggs -themselves—we may gather from the German physiologists some such account -of the actual facts as this. - -The first change signalized in the impregnated egg seems that of -_Furchung_, or furrowing—what the Germans call the _Furchungskugeln_, -the _Dotterkugeln_, form. Then these _Kugeln_—clumps, eminences, -monticles, we may translate the word—break into cells; and these are the -cells of the embryo. Mr. Huxley, as quoted, refers to the whole body, -and every organ of the body, as at first but an aggregation of colorless -blood-corpuscles; but in the very statement which would render the -identity alone explicit, the difference is quite as plainly implicit. As -much as this lies in the word “organs,” to say nothing of “human.” The -cells of the “organs,” to which he refers, are even then -uninterchangeable, and produce but themselves. The Germans tell us of -the _Keimblatt_, the germ-leaf, in which all these organs originate. -This _Blatt_, or leaf, is threefold, it seems; but even these folds are -not indifferent. The various cells have their distinct places in them -from the first. While what in this connection are called the epithelial -and endorthelial tissues spring respectively from the _upper_ and -_under_ leaf, connective tissues, with muscle and blood, spring from the -_middle_ one. Surely in such facts we have a perfect warrant to assert -the initial non-identity of protoplasm, and to insist on this, that, -from the very earliest moment—even literally _ab ovo_—brain-cells only -generate brain-cells, bone-cells bone-cells, and so on. - -These considerations on function all concern faculty or power; but we -have to notice now that the characteristic and fundamental form of power -is to Mr. Huxley _contractility_. He even quotes Goethe in proof of -contractility being the main power or faculty of _Man_! Nevertheless it -is to be said at once that, while there are differences in what -protoplasm _is_ contractile, all protoplasm is not contractile, nor -dependent on contractility for its functions. In the former respect, for -example, muscle, while it is the contractile tissue special, is also to -Mr. Huxley protoplasm; yet Stricker asserts the inner construction of -the contractile substance, of which muscle-fibre virtually consists, to -be essentially different from contractile protoplasm. Here, then, we -have the contractile _substance_ proper “essentially different” from the -contractile _source_ proper. In the latter respect, again, we shall not -call in the _un_contractible substances which Mr. Huxley himself -denominates protoplasm—bread, namely, roast mutton, and boiled lobster; -but we may ask where—even in the case of a living body—is the -contractility of white of egg? In this reference, too, we may remark -that Kühne, who divides the protoplasm of the epidermis into three -classes, has been unable to distinguish contractility in his own third -class. Lastly, where, in relation to the protoplasm of the nervous -system, is there evidence of its contractility? Has any one pretended -that thought is but the contraction of the brain; or is it by -contraction that the very nerves operate contraction—the nerves that -supply muscles, namely? Mr. Huxley himself, in his Physiology, describes -nervous action very differently. There _conduction_ is spoken of without -a hint of contraction. Of the higher faculties of man I have to speak -again; but let us just ask where, in the case of any pure -sensation—smell, taste, touch, sound, color—is there proof of any -contraction? Are we to suppose that between the physical cause of heat -without and the mental sensation of heat within, contraction is anywhere -interpolated? Generally, in conclusion here, while reminding of -Virchow’s testimony to the inherent inequalities of cell-capacity, let -us but, on the question of faculty, contrast the kidney and the brain, -even as these organs are viewed by Mr. Huxley. To him the one is but a -sieve for the extrusion of refuse: the other thinks Newton’s ‘Principia’ -and Iliads of Homer. - -Probably, then, in regard to any continuity in protoplasm of power, of -form, or of substance, we have seen _lacunæ_ enow. Nay, Mr. Huxley -himself can be adduced in evidence on the same side. Not rarely do we -find in his essay admissions of _probability_ where it is _certainty_ -that is alone in place. He says, for example, “It is more than probable -that _when_ the vegetable world _is_ thoroughly explored we _shall_ find -all plants in possession of the same powers.” When a conclusion is -decidedly announced, it is rather disappointing to be told, as here, -that the premises are still to collect. “_So far_,” he says again, “as -the conditions of the manifestations of the phenomena of contractility -have _yet_ been studied.” Now, such a _so far_ need not be _very far_; -and we may confess in passing, that from Mr. Huxley the phrase, “the -conditions of the _manifestations_ of the _phenomena_” grates. We hear -again that it is “the rule _rather_ than the exception,” or that -“weighty authorities have _suggested_” that such and such things -“probably occur,” or, while contemplating the nettle-sting, that such -“_possible_ complexity” in other cases “_dawns_ upon one.” On other -occasions he expresses himself to the effect that “perhaps it would not -yet be safe to say that _all_ forms,” etc. Nay, not only does he -directly _say_ that “it is by no means his intention to suggest that -there is no difference between the lowest plant and the highest, or -between plants and animals,” but he directly proves what he says, for he -demonstrates in plants and animals an _essential difference of power_. -Plants _can_ assimilate inorganic matters, animals can _not_, etc. -Again, here is a passage in which he is seen to cut his own “_basis_” -from beneath his own feet. After telling us that all forms of protoplasm -consist of carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, and nitrogen “in very complex -union,” he continues, “To this complex combination, _the nature of which -has never been determined with exactness_, the name of protein has been -applied.” This, plainly, is an identification, on Mr. Huxley’s own part, -of protoplasm and protein; and what is said of the one being necessarily -true of the other, it follows that Mr. Huxley admits the nature of -protoplasm never to have been determined with exactness, and that, even -in his eyes, the _lis_ is still _sub judice_. This admission is -strengthened by the words, too, “If we use this term” (protein) “with -such _caution_ as may properly arise out of our _comparative ignorance_ -of the things for which it stands;” which entitle us to recommend, in -consequence “of our _comparative ignorance_ of the things for which it -stands,” “_caution_” in the use of the term protoplasm. In such a state -of the case we cannot wonder that Mr. Huxley’s own conclusion here is: -Therefore “all living matter is more or less albuminoid.” All living -matter is more or less albuminoid! That, indeed, is the single -conclusion of Mr. Huxley’s whole industry; but it is a conclusion that, -far from requiring the intervention of protoplasm, had been reached long -before the word itself had been, in this connection, used. - -It is in this way, then, that Mr. Huxley can be adduced in refutation of -himself; and I think his resort to an epigram of Goethe’s for reduction -of the powers of man to those of contraction, digestion, and -reproduction, can be regarded as an admission to the same effect. The -epigram runs thus:— - - “Warum treibt sich das Volk so, und schreit? Es will sich ernähren, - Kinder zeugen, und die nähren so gut es vermag. - Weiter bringt es kein Mensch, stell’ er sich wie er auch will.” - -That means, quite literally translated, “Why do the folks bustle and -bawl? They want to feed themselves, get children, and then feed them as -best they can; no man does more, let him do as he may.” This, really, is -Mr. Huxley’s sole proof for his classification of the powers of man. Is -it sufficient? Does it not apply rather to the birds of the air, the -fish of the sea, and the beasts of the field, than to man? Did Newton -only feed himself, beget children, and then feed them? Was it impossible -for him to do any more, let him do as he might? And what we ask of -Newton we may ask of all the rest. To elevate, therefore, the passing -whim of mere literary _Laune_ into a cosmical axiom and a proof in -place—this we cannot help adding to the other productions here in which -Mr. Huxley appears against himself. - -But were it impossible either for him or us to point to these _lacunæ_, -it would still be our right and our duty to refer to the present -conditions of microscopic science in general as well as in particular, -and to demur to the erection of its _dicta_, constituted as they yet -are, into established columns and buttresses in support of any theory of -life, material or other. - -The most delicate and dubious of all the sciences, it is also the -youngest. In its manipulations the slightest change may operate as a -destructive drought, or an equally destructive deluge. Its very tools -may positively create the structure it actually examines. The present -state of the science, and what warrant it gives Mr. Huxley to dogmatize -on protoplasm, we may understand from this avowal of Kühne’s: “To-day we -believe that we see” such or such fact, “but know not that further -improvements in the means of observation will not reveal what is assumed -for certainty to be only illusion.” With such authority to lean on—and -it is the highest we can have—we may be allowed to entertain the -conjecture, that it is just possible that some certainties, even of Mr. -Huxley, may yet reveal themselves as illusions. - -But, in resistance to any sweeping conclusions built on it, we are not -confined to a reference to the imperfections involved in the very nature -and epoch of the science itself in general. With yet greater assurance -of carrying conviction with us, we may point in particular to the actual -opinions of its present professors. We have seen already, in the -consideration premised, that Mr. Huxley’s hypothesis of a protoplasm -_matter_ is unsupported, even by the most innovating Germans, who as yet -will not advance, the most advanced of them, beyond a protoplasm-cell; -and that his whole argument is thus sapped in advance. But what -threatens more absolute extinction of this argument still, _all_ the -German physiologists do _not_ accept even the protoplasm-cell. -Rindfleisch, for example, in his recently-published ‘Lehrbuch der -pathologischen Gewebelehre’ speaks of the cell very much as we -understand Virchow to have spoken of it. To him there is in the cell not -only protoplasm but nucleus, and perhaps membrane as well. To him, too, -the cell propagates itself quite as we have been hitherto fancying it to -do, by division of the nucleus, increase of the protoplasm, and ultimate -partition of the cell itself. Yet he knows withal of the opinions of -others, and accepts them in a manner. He mentions Kühne’s account of the -membrane as at first but a mere physical limit of two fluids—a mere -peripheral film or curdling; still he assumes a formal and decided -membrane at last. Even Leydig and Schultze, who shall be the express -eliminators of the membrane—the one by initiation and the other by -consummation—confess that, as regards the cells of certain tissues, they -have never been able to detect in them the absence of a membrane. - -As regards the nucleus again, the case is very much stronger. When we -have admitted with Brücke that certain cryptogam cells, with Haeckel -that certain protists, with Cienkowsky that two monads, and with -Schultze that one amoeba, are without nucleus—when we have admitted that -division of the cell _may_ take place without implicating that of the -nucleus—that the movements of the nucleus _may_ be passive and due to -those of the protoplasm—that Baer and Stricker demonstrate the -disappearance of the original nucleus in the impregnated egg,—when we -have admitted this, we have admitted also all that can be said in -degradation of the nucleus. Even those who say all this still attribute -to the nucleus an important and unknown _rôle_, and describe the -formation in the impregnated egg of a new nucleus; while there are -others again who resist every attempt to degrade it. Böttcher asserts -movement for the nucleus, even when wholly removed from the cell; -Neumann points to such movement in dead or dying cells; and there is -other testimony to a like effect, as well as to peculiarities of the -nucleus otherwise that indicate spontaneity. In this reference we may -allude to the weighty opinion of the late Professor Goodsir, who -anticipated in so remarkable a manner certain of the determinations of -Virchow. Goodsir, in that anticipation, wonderfully rich and ingenious -as he is everywhere, is perhaps nowhere more interesting and successful -than in what concerns the nucleus. Of the whole cell, the nucleus is to -him, as it was to Schleiden, Schwann, and others, the most important -element. And this is the view to which I, who have little business to -speak, wish success. This universe is not an accidental cavity, in which -an accidental dust has been accidentally swept into heaps for the -accidental evolution of the majestic spectacle of organic and inorganic -life. That majestic spectacle is a spectacle as plainly for the eye of -reason as any diagram of the mathematician. That majestic spectacle -could have been constructed, was constructed, only in reason, for -reason, and by reason. From beyond Orion and the Pleiades, across the -green hem of earth, up to the imperial personality of man, all, the -furthest, the deadest, the dustiest, is for fusion in the invisible -point of the single Ego—_which alone glorifies it_. _For_ the subject, -and on the model of the subject, all is made. Therefore it is -that—though, precisely as there are acephalous monsters by way of -exception and deformity, there may be also at the very extremity of -animated existence cells without a nucleus—I cannot help believing that -this nucleus itself, as analogue of the subject will yet be proved the -most important and indispensable of all the normal cell-elements. Even -the phenomena of the impregnated egg seem to me to support this view. In -the egg, on impregnation, it seems to me natural (I say it with a smile) -that the old sun that ruled it should go down, and that a new sun, -stronger in the combination of the new and the old, should ascend into -its place! - -Be these things as they may, we have now overwhelming evidence before us -for concluding, with reference to Mr. Huxley’s first proposition, -that—in view of the nature of microscopic science—in view of the state -of belief that obtains at present as regards nucleus, membrane, and -entire cell—even in view of the supporters of protoplasm itself—Mr. -Huxley is not authorized to speak of a physical matter of life; which, -for the rest, if granted, would, for innumerable and, as it appears to -me, irrefragable reasons, be obliged to acknowledge for itself, not -identity, but an infinite diversity in power, in form and in substance. - -So much for the first proposition in Mr. Huxley’s essay, or that which -concerns protoplasm, as a supposed matter of life, identical itself, and -involving the identity of all the various organs and organisms which it -is assumed to compose. What now of the second proposition, or that which -concerns the materiality at once of protoplasm, and of all that is -conceived to derive from protoplasm? In other words, though, so to -speak, for organic bricks anything like an organic clay still awaits the -proof, I ask, if the bricks are not the same because the clay is not the -same, what if the materiality of the former is equally unsupported by -the materiality of the latter? Or what if the functions of protoplasm -are not properties of its mere molecular constitution? - -For this is Mr. Huxley’s second proposition, namely, That all vital and -intellectual functions are but the properties of the molecular -disposition and changes of the material basis (protoplasm) of which the -various animals and vegetables consist. With the conclusions now before -us, it is evident that to enter at all on this part of Mr. Huxley’s -argumentation is, so far as we are concerned, only a matter of grace. In -order that it should have any weight, we must grant the fact, at once of -the existence of a matter of life, and of all organs and organisms being -but aggregates of it. This, obviously, we cannot now do. By way of -hypothesis, however, we may assume it. Let it be granted, then, that -_pro hac vice_ there _is_ a physical basis of life with all the -consequences named; and now let us see how Mr. Huxley proceeds to -establish its materiality. - -The whole former part of Mr. Huxley’s essay consists (as said) of fifty -paragraphs, and the argument immediately concerned is confined to the -latter ten of them. This argument is the simple chemical analogy that, -under stimulus of an electric spark, hydrogen and oxygen uniting into an -equivalent weight of water, and, under stimulus of preëxisting -protoplasm, carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, and nitrogen uniting into an -equivalent weight of protoplasm, there is the same warrant for -attributing the properties of the consequent to the properties of the -antecedents in the latter case as in the former. The properties of -protoplasm are, in origin and character, precisely on the same level as -the properties of water. The cases are perfectly parallel. It is as -absurd to attribute a new entity vitality to protoplasm, as a new entity -aquosity to water. Or, if it is by its mere chemical and physical -structure that water exhibits certain properties called aqueous, it is -also by its mere chemical and physical structure that protoplasm -exhibits certain properties called vital. All that is necessary in -either case is, “under certain conditions,” to bring the chemical -constituents together. If water is a molecular complication, protoplasm -is equally a molecular complication, and for the description of the one -or the other there is no change of language required. A new substance -with new qualities results in precisely the same way here, as a new -substance with new qualities there; and the derivative qualities are not -more different from the primitive qualities in the one instance, than -the derivative qualities are different from the primitive qualities in -the other. Lastly, the _modus operandi_ of preëxistent protoplasm is not -more unintelligible than that of the electric spark. The conclusion is -irresistible, then, that all protoplasm being reciprocally convertible, -and consequently identical, the properties it displays, vitality and -intellect included, are as much the result of molecular constitution as -those of water itself. - -It is evident, then, that the fulcrum on which Mr. Huxley’s second -proposition rests, is a single inference from a chemical analogy. -Analogy, however, being never identity, is apt to betray. The difference -it hides may be essential, that is, while the likeness it shows may be -inessential—so far as the conclusion is concerned. That this mischance -has overtaken Mr. Huxley here, it will, I fancy, not be difficult to -demonstrate. - -The analogy to which Mr. Huxley trusts has two references: one, to -chemical composition, and one to a certain stimulus that determines it. -As regards chemical composition, we are asked, by virtue of the analogy -obtaining, to identify, as equally simple instances of it, protoplasm -here and water there; and, as regards the stimulus in question, we are -asked to admit the action of the electric spark in the one case to be -quite analogous to the action of preëxisting protoplasm in the other. In -both references I shall endeavor to point out that the analogy fails; -or, as we may say it also, that, even to Mr. Huxley, it can only seem to -succeed by discounting the elements of difference that still subsist. - -To begin with chemical combination, it is not unjust to demand that the -analogy which must be admitted to exist in that, and a general physical -respect, should not be strained beyond its legitimate limits. Protoplasm -cannot be denied to be a chemical substance; protoplasm cannot be denied -to be a physical substance. As a compound of carbon, hydrogen, oxygen -and nitrogen, it comports itself chemically—at least in ultimate -instance—in a manner not essentially different from that in which water, -as a compound of hydrogen and oxygen, comports itself chemically. In -mere physical aspect, again, it may count quality for quality with water -in the same aspect. In short, so far as it is on chemical and physical -structure that the possession of distinctive properties in any case -depends, both bodies may be allowed to be pretty well on a par. The -analogy must be allowed to hold so far: so far but no farther. One step -farther and we see not only that protoplasm has, like water, a chemical -and physical structure; but that, unlike water, it has also an organized -or organic structure. Now this, on the part of protoplasm, is a -possession in excess; and with relation to that excess there can be no -grounds for analogy. This, perhaps, is what Mr. Huxley has omitted to -consider. When insisting on attributing to protoplasm the qualities it -possessed, because of its chemical and physical structure, if it was for -chemical and physical structure that we attributed to water _its_ -qualities, he has simply forgotten the addition to protoplasm of a third -structure that can only be named organic. “If the phenomena exhibited by -water are its properties, so are those presented by protoplasm, living -or dead, its properties.” When Mr. Huxley speaks thus, Exactly so, we -may answer: “living or dead!” That alternative is simply slipped in and -passed; but it is in that alternative that the whole matter lies. -Chemically, dead protoplasm is to Mr. Huxley quite as good as living -protoplasm. As a sample of the article, he is quite content with dead -protoplasm, and even swallows it, he says, in the shape of bread, -lobster, mutton, etc., with all the satisfactory results to be -desired.—Still, as concerns the argument, it must be pointed out that it -is only these that can be placed on the same level as water; and that -living protoplasm is not only unlike water, but it is unlike dead -protoplasm. Living protoplasm, namely, is identical with dead protoplasm -only so far as its chemistry is concerned (if even so much as that); and -it is quite evident, consequently, that difference between the two -cannot depend on that in which they are identical—cannot depend on the -chemistry. Life, then, is no affair of chemical and physical structure, -and must find its explanation in something else. It is thus that, lifted -high enough, the light of the analogy between water and protoplasm is -seen to go out. Water, in fact, when formed from hydrogen and oxygen, -is, in a certain way and in relation to them, no new product; it has -still, like them, only chemical and physical qualities; it is still, as -they are, inorganic. So far as _kind_ of power is concerned, they are -still on the same level. But not so protoplasm, where, with preservation -of the chemical and physical likeness there is the addition of the -unlikeness of life, of organization, and of ideas. But the addition is a -new world—a new and higher world, the world of a self-realizing thought, -the world of an _entelechy_. The change of language objected to by Mr. -Huxley is thus a matter of necessity, for it is _not_ mere molecular -complication that we have any longer before us, and the qualities of the -derivative are essentially and absolutely different from the qualities -of the primitive. If we did invent the term aquosity, then, as an -abstract sign for all the qualities of water, we should really do very -little harm; but aquosity and vitality would still remain essentially -unlike. While for the invention of aquosity there is little or no call, -however, the fact in the other case is that we are not only compelled to -invent, but to _perceive_ vitality. We are quite willing to do as Mr. -Huxley would have us to do: look on, watch the phenomena, and name the -results. But just in proportion to our faithfulness in these respects is -the necessity for the recognition of a new world and a new nomenclature. -There are certainly different states of water, as ice and steam; but the -relation of the solid to the liquid, or of either to the vapor, surely -offers no analogy to the relation of protoplasm dead to protoplasm -alive. That relation is not an analogy but an antithesis, the antithesis -of antitheses. In it, in fact, we are in presence of the one -incommunicable gulf—the gulf of all gulfs—that gulf which Mr. Huxley’s -protoplasm is as powerless to efface as any other material expedient -that has ever been suggested since the eyes of men first looked into -it—the mighty gulf between death and life. - -The differences alluded to (they are, in order, organization and life, -the objective idea—design, and the subjective idea—thought), it may be -remarked, are admitted by those very Germans to whom protoplasm, name -and thing, is due. They, the most advanced and innovating of them, -directly avow that there is present in the cell “an architectonic -principle that has not yet been detected.” In pronouncing protoplasm -capable of active or vital movements, they do by that refer, they admit -also, to an immaterial force, and they ascribe the processes exhibited -by protoplasm—in so many words—not to the molecules, but to organization -and life. It is remarked by Kant that “the reason of the specific mode -of existence of every part of a living body lies in the whole, whilst -with dead masses each part bears this reason within itself;” and this -indeed is how the two worlds are differentiated. A drop of water, once -formed, is there passive for ever, susceptible to influence, but -indifferent to influence, and what influence reaches it is wholly from -without. It may be added to, it may be subtracted from; but infinitely -apathetic quantitatively, it is qualitatively independent. It is -indifferent to its own physical parts. It is without contractility, -without alimentation, without reproduction, without specific function. -Not so the cell, in which the parts are dependent on the whole, and the -whole on the parts; which has its activity and _raison d’être_ within; -which manifests all the powers which we have described water to want; -and which requires for its continuance conditions of which water is -independent. It is only so far as organization and life are concerned, -however, that the cell is thus different from water. Chemically and -physically, as said, it can show with it quality for quality. How -strangely Mr. Huxley’s deliverances show beside these facts! He can “see -no break in the series of steps in molecular complication;” but, -glaringly obvious, there is a step added that is not molecular at all, -and that has its supporting conditions completely elsewhere. The -molecules are as fully accounted for in protoplasm as in water; but the -sum of qualities, thus exhausted in the latter, is not so exhausted in -the former, in which there are qualities due, plainly, not to the -molecules as molecules, but to the form into which they are thrown, and -the force that makes that form one. When the chemical elements are -brought together, Mr. Huxley says, protoplasm is formed, “and this -protoplasm exhibits the phenomena of life;” but he ought to have added -that these phenomena are themselves added to the phenomena for which all -that relates to chemistry stands, and are there, consequently, only by -reason of some other determinant. New consequents necessarily demand new -antecedents. “We think fit to call different kinds of matter carbon, -oxygen, hydrogen, and nitrogen, and to speak of the various powers and -activities of these substances as the properties of the matter of which -they are composed.” That, doubtless, is true, we say; but such -statements do not exhaust the facts. We call water hydrogen and oxygen, -and attribute _its_ properties to the properties of them. In a chemical -point of view, we ought to do the same thing for ice and steam; yet, for -all the chemical identity, water is not ice, nor is either steam. Do we, -then, in these cases, make nothing of the _difference_, and in its -despite enjoy the satisfaction of viewing the three as one? Not so; we -ask a reason for the difference; we demand an antecedent that shall -render the consequent intelligible. The chemistry of oxygen and hydrogen -is not enough in explanation of the threefold form; and by the very -necessity of the facts we are driven to the addition of heat. It is -precisely so with protoplasm in its twofold form. The chemistry -remaining the same in each (if it really does so), we are compelled to -seek elsewhere a reason for the difference of living from dead -protoplasm. As the differences of ice and steam from water lay not in -the hydrogen and oxygen, but in the heat, so the difference of living -from dead protoplasm lies not in the carbon, the hydrogen, the oxygen, -and the nitrogen, but in the vital organization. In all cases, for the -new quality, plainly, we must have a new explanation. The qualities of a -steam-engine are not the results of its simple chemistry. We do apply to -protoplasm the same conceptions, then, that are legitimate elsewhere, -and in allocating properties and explaining phenomena we simply insist -on Mr. Huxley’s own distinction of “living or dead.” That, in fact, is -to us the distinction of distinctions, and we admit no vital action -whatever, not even the dullest, to be the result of the _molecular_ -action of the protoplasm that displays it. The very protoplasm of the -nettle-sting, with which Mr. Huxley begins, is already vitally -organized, and in that organization as much superior to its own -molecules as the steam-engine, in its mechanism, to its own wood and -iron. It were indeed as rational to say that there is no principle -concerned in a steam-engine or a watch but that of its molecular forces, -as to make this assertion of organized matter. Still there are degrees -in organization, and the highest forms of life are widely different from -the lowest. Degrees similar we see even in the inorganic world. The -persistent flow of a river is, to the mighty reason of the solar system, -in some such proportion, perhaps, as the rhizopod to man. In protoplasm, -even the lowest, then, but much more conspicuously in the highest, there -is, in addition to the molecular force, another force unsignalized by -Mr. Huxley—the force of vital organization. - -But this force is a rational unity, and that is an idea; and this I -would point to as a second form of the addition to the chemistry and -physics of protoplasm. We have just seen, it is true, that an idea may -be found in inorganic matter, as in the solar and sidereal systems -generally. But the idea in organized matter is not one operative, so to -speak, from without: it is one operative from within, and in an -infinitely more intimate and pervading manner. The units that form the -complement of an inorganic system are but independently and externally -in place, like units in a procession; but in what is organized there is -no individual that is not sublated into the unity of the single life. -This is so even in protoplasm. Mr. Huxley, it is true, desiderates, as -result of mere ordinary chemical process, a life-stuff in mass, as it -were in the web, to which he has only to resort for cuttings and -cuttings in order to produce, by aggregation, what organized individual -he pleases. But the facts are not so: we cannot have protoplasm in the -web, but the piece. There is as yet no _matter_ of life; there are still -_cells_ of life. It is no shred of protoplasm—no spoonful or -toothpickful—that can be recognized as adequate to the function and the -name. Such shred may wriggle a moment, but it produces nought, and it -dies. In the smallest, lowest protoplasm-cell, then, we have this -rational unity of a complement of individuals that only are for the -whole and exist in the whole. This is an idea, therefore; this is -design: the organized concert of many to a single common purpose. The -rudest savage that should, as in Paley’s illustration, find a watch, and -should observe the various contrivances all controlled by the single end -in view, would be obliged to acknowledge—though in his own way—that what -he had before him was no mere physical, no mere molecular product. So in -protoplasm: even from the first, but, quite undeniably, in the completed -organization at last, which alone it was there to produce; for a single -idea has been its one manifestation throughout. And in what machinery -does it not at length issue? Was it molecular powers that invented a -respiration—that perforated the posterior ear to give a balance of -air—that compensated the _fenestra ovalis_ by a _fenestra rotunda_—that -placed in the auricular sacs those _otolithes_, those express stones for -hearing? Such machinery! The _chordæ tendineæ_ are to the valves of the -heart exactly adjusted check-strings; and the contractile _columnæ -carneæ_ are set in, under contraction and expansion, to equalize their -length to their office. Membranes, rods, and liquids—it required the -express experiment of man to make good the fact that the inventor of the -ear had availed himself of the most perfect apparatus possible for his -purpose. And are we to conceive such machinery, such apparatus, such -contrivances merely molecular? Are molecules adequate to such -things—molecules in their blind passivity, and dead, dull insensibility? -Is it to molecular agency Mr. Huxley himself owes that “singular inward -laboratory” of which he speaks, and without which all the protoplasm in -the world would be useless to him? Surely, in the presence of these -manifest ideas, it is impossible to attribute the single peculiar -feature of protoplasm—its vitality, namely—to mere molecular chemistry. -Protoplasm, it is true, breaks up into carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, and -nitrogen, as water does into hydrogen and oxygen; but the watch breaks -similarly up into mere brass, and steel, and glass. The loose materials -of the watch—even its chemical material if you will—replace its weight, -quite as accurately as the constituents carbon, etc., replace the weight -of the protoplasm. But neither these nor those replace the vanished -idea, which was alone the important element. Mr. Huxley saw no break in -the series of steps in molecular complication; but, though not -molecular, it is difficult to understand what more striding, what more -absolute break could be desired than the break into an idea. It is of -that break alone that we think in the watch; and it is of that break -alone that we should think in the protoplasm which, far more cunningly, -far more rationally, constructs a heart, an eye or an ear. That is the -break of breaks, and explain it as we may, we shall never explain it by -molecules. - -But, if inorganic elements as such are inadequate to account either for -vital organization or the objective idea of design, much more are they -inadequate, in the third place, to account for the subjective idea, for -the phenomena of thought as thought. Yet Mr. Huxley tells us that -thought is but the expression of the molecular changes of protoplasm. -This he only tells us; this he does not prove. He merely says that, if -we admit the functions of the lowest forms of life to be but “direct -results of the nature of the matter of which they are composed,” we must -admit as much for the functions of the highest. We have not admitted Mr. -Huxley’s presupposition; but, even with its admission, we should not -feel bound to admit his conclusion. In such a mighty system of -differences, there are ample room and verge enough for the introduction -of new motives. We can say here at once, in fact, that as thought, let -its connection be what it may with, has never been proved to result -from, organization, no improvement of the proof required will be found -in protoplasm. No one power that Mr. Huxley signalizes in protoplasm can -account for thought: not alimentation, and not reproduction, certainly; -but not even contractility. We have seen already that there is no proof -of contraction being necessary even for the simplest sensation; but much -less is there any proof of a necessity of contraction for the inner and -independent operations of the mind. Mr. Huxley himself admits this. He -says: “Speech, gesture, and every other form of human action are, in the -long-run, resolvable into muscular contraction;” and so, “even those -manifestations of intellect, of feeling, and of will, which we rightly -name the higher faculties, are not excluded from this classification, -inasmuch as to every one _but the subject of them_, they are known only -as transitory changes in the relative positions of parts of the body.” -The concession is made here, we see that these manifestations are -differently known to the subject of them. But we may first object that, -if even that privileged “every one but the subject” were limited to a -knowledge of contractions, he would not know much. It is only because he -knows, first of all, a thinker and willer of contractions that these -themselves cease to be but passing externalities, and transitory -contingencies. Neither is it reasonable to assert an identity of nature -for contractions, and for that which they only represent. It would -hardly be fair to confound either the receiver or the sender of a -telegraphic message, with the movements which alone bore it, and without -which it would have been impossible. The sign is not the thing -signified, it is but the servant of the signifier—his own arbitrary -mark—and intelligible, in the first place, only to him. It is the -meaning, in all cases, that is alone vital; the sign is but an accident. -To convert the internality into the arbitrary externality that simply -expresses it, is for Mr. Huxley only an oversight. Your ideas are made -known to your neighbors by contractions, therefore your ideas are of the -same nature as contractions! Or, even to take it from the other side, -your neighbor perceives in you contractions only, and therefore your -ideas are contractions! Are not the vital elements here present the two -correspondent internalities, between which the contractions constitute -but an arbitrary chain of external communication, that is so now, but -may be otherwise again? The ringing of the bell at the window is not -precisely the dwarf within. Nor are Engineer Chappe’s “wooden arms and -elbow-joints jerking and fugling in the air,” to be identified with -Engineer Chappe himself. For the higher faculties, even for speech, -etc., assuredly Mr. Huxley might have well spared himself this -superfluous and inapplicable reference to contraction. - -But, in the middle of it, as we have seen, Mr. Huxley concedes that -these manifestations are differently known to the subject of them. If -so, what becomes of his assertion of but a certain number of powers for -protoplasm? The manifestations of the higher faculties are not known to -the subject of them by contraction, etc. By what, then, are they known? -According to Mr. Huxley, they can only be known by the powers of -protoplasm; and therefore, by his own showing, protoplasm must possess -powers other than those of his own assertion. Mr. Huxley’s one great -power of contractility, Mr. Huxley himself confesses to be inapplicable -here. Indeed, in his Physiology (p. 193), he makes such an avowal as -this: “We class _sensations_, along with _emotions_, and _volitions_, -and _thoughts_, under the common head of states of _consciousness_; but -what consciousness is we know not, and how it is that anything so -remarkable as a state of consciousness comes about as the result of -irritating nervous tissue, is just as unaccountable as the appearance of -the Djin when Aladdin rubbed his lamp in the story.” Consciousness -plainly was not muscular contraction to Mr. Huxley when he wrote his -Physiology; it is only since then that he has gone over to the assertion -of no power in protoplasm but the triple power, contractility, etc. But -the truth is only as his Physiology has it—the cleft is simply, as Mr. -Huxley acknowledges it there, absolute. On one side, there is the world -of externality, where all is body by body, and away from one another—the -boundless reciprocal exclusion of the infinite object. On the other -side, there is the world of internality, where all is soul to soul, and -away into one another—the boundless reciprocal inclusion of the infinite -subject. This—even while it is true that, for subject to be subject, and -object, object, the boundless intussuscepted multiplicity of the single -invisible point of the one is but the dimensionless casket into which -the illimitable Genius of the other must retract and withdraw itself—is -the difference of differences; and certainly it is not internality that -can be abolished before externality. The proof for the absoluteness of -thought, the subject, the mind, is, on its side, pretty well perfect. It -is not necessary here, however, to enter into that proof at length. -Before passing on, I may simply point to the fact that, if thought is to -be called a function of matter, it must be acknowledged to be a function -wholly peculiar and unlike any other. In all other functions, we are -present to processes which are in the same sense physical as the organs -themselves. So it is with lung, stomach, liver, kidney, where every step -can be followed, so to speak, with eye and hand; but all is changed when -we have to do with mind as the function of brain. Then, indeed, as Mr. -Huxley thought in his Physiology, we are admitted, as if by touch of -Aladdin’s lamp, to a world absolutely different and essentially new—to a -world, on its side of the incommunicable cleft, as complete, entire, -independent, self-contained, and absolutely _sui generis_, as the world -of matter on the other side. It will be sufficient here to allude to as -much as this, with special reference to the fact that, so far as this -argument is concerned, protoplasm has not introduced any the very -slightest difference. All the ancient reasons for the independence of -thought as against organization, can be used with even more striking -effect as against protoplasm; but it will be sufficient to indicate -this, so much are the arguments in question a common property now. -Thought, in fact, brings with it its own warrant; or it brings with it, -to use the phrase of Burns, “its patent of nobility direct from Almighty -God.” And that is the strongest argument on this whole side. Throughout -the entire universe, organic and inorganic, thought is the controlling -sovereign; nor does matter anywhere refuse its allegiance. So it is in -thought, too, that man has _his_ patent of nobility, believes that he is -created in the image of God, and knows himself a free-man of infinitude. - -But the analogy, in the hands of Mr. Huxley, has, we have seen, a second -reference—that, namely, to the excitants, if we may call them so, which -_determine_ combination. The _modus operandi_, Mr. Huxley tells us, of -preëxisting protoplasm in determining the formation of new protoplasm, -is not more unintelligible than the _modus operandi_ of the electric -spark in determining the formation of water; and so both, we are left to -infer, are perfectly analogous. The inferential turn here is rather a -favorite with Mr. Huxley. “But objectors of this class,” he says on an -earlier occasion, in allusion to those who hesitate to conclude from -dead to living matter, “do not seem to reflect that it is also, in -strictness, true that we know nothing about the composition of any body -whatever as it is.” In the same neighborhood, too, he argues that, -though impotent to restore to decomposed calc-spar its original form, we -do not hesitate to accept the chemical analysis assigned to it, and -should not, consequently, any more hesitate because of any mere -difference of form to accept the analysis of dead for that of living -protoplasm. It is certainly fair to point out that, if we bear ignorance -and impotence with equanimity in one case, we may equally so bear them -in another; but it is not fair to convert ignorance into knowledge, nor -impotence into power. Yet it is usual to take such statements loosely, -and let them pass. It is not considered that, if we know nothing about -the composition of any body whatever as it is, then we do know nothing, -and that it is strangely idle to offer absolute ignorance as a support -for the most dogmatic knowledge. If such statements are, as is really -expected for them, to be accepted, yet not accepted, they are the -stultification of all logic. Is the chemistry of living to be seen to be -the same as the chemistry of dead protoplasm, because we know nothing -about the composition of any body whatever as it is? We know perfectly -well that black is white, for we are absolutely ignorant of either as it -is! The _form_ of the calc-spar, which (the spar) we _can_ analyze, we -cannot restore; therefore the _form_ of the protoplasm, which we -_cannot_ analyze, has nothing to do with the matter in hand; and the -chemistry of what is dead may be accepted as the chemistry of what is -living! In the case of reasoning so irrelevant it is hardly worth while -referring to what concerns the forms themselves; that they are totally -incommensurable, that in all forms of calc-spar there is no question but -of what is physical, while in protoplasm the change of form is -introduction into an entire new world. As in these illustrations, so in -the case immediately before us. No appeal to ignorance in regard to -something else, the electric spark, should be allowed to transform -another ignorance, that of the action of preëxisting protoplasm, into -knowledge, here into _the_ knowledge that the two unknown things, -because of non-knowledge, are—perfectly analogous! That this analogy -does not exist—that the electric spark and preëxisting protoplasm are, -in their relative places, _not_ on the same chemical level—this is the -main point for us to see; and Mr. Huxley’s allusion to our ignorance -must not be allowed to blind us to it. Here we have in a glass vessel so -much hydrogen and oxygen, into which we discharge an electric spark, and -water is the result. Now what analogy is it possible to perceive between -this production of water by external experiment and the production of -protoplasm by protoplasm? The discrepancy is so palpable that it were -impertinent to enlarge on it. The truth is just this, that the measured -and mixed gases, the vessel, and the spark, in the one case, are as -unlike the fortuitous food, the living organs, and the long process of -assimilation in the other case, as the product water is unlike the -product protoplasm. No; that the action of the electric spark should be -unknown, is no reason why we should not insist on protoplasm for -protoplasm, on life for life. Protoplasm can only be produced by -protoplasm, and each of all the innumerable varieties of protoplasm, -only by its own kind. For the protoplasm of the worm we must go to the -worm, and for that of the toad-stool to the toad-stool. In fact, if all -living beings come from protoplasm, it is quite as certain that, but for -living beings, protoplasm would disappear. Without an egg you cannot -have a hen—that is true; but it is equally true that, without a hen, you -cannot have an egg. So in protoplasm; which, consequently, in the -production of itself, offers no analogy to the production, or -precipitation by the electric spark, not of itself, but of water. -Besides, if for protoplasm, preëxisting protoplasm, is always necessary, -how was there ever a first protoplasm? - -Generally, then, Mr. Huxley’s analogy does not hold, whether in the one -reference or the other, and Mr. Huxley has no warrant for the reduction -of protoplasm to the mere chemical level which he assigns it in either. -That level is brought very prominently forward in such expressions as -these: That it is only necessary to bring the chemical elements -“together,” “under certain conditions,” to give rise to the more complex -body, protoplasm, just as there is a similar expedient to give rise to -water; and that, under the influence of preëxisting living protoplasm, -carbonic acid, water, and ammonia disappear, and an equivalent weight of -protoplasm makes its appearance, just as, under the influence of the -electric spark, hydrogen and oxygen disappear, and an equivalent weight -of water makes its appearance. All this, plainly, is to assume for -protoplasm such mere chemical place and nature as consist not with the -facts. The cases are, in truth, not parallel, and the “certain -conditions” are wholly diverse. All that is said we can do at will for -water, but nothing of what is said can we do at will for protoplasm. To -say we can feed protoplasm, and so make protoplasm at will produce -protoplasm, is very much, in the circumstances, only to say, and is not -to say, that, in this way, we make a chemical experiment. To insist on a -chemical analogy, in fact, between water and protoplasm, is to omit the -differences not covered by the analogy at all—thought, design, life, and -all the processes of organization; and it is but simple procedure to -omit these differences only by an appeal to ignorance elsewhere. - -It is hardly worth while, perhaps, to refer now again to the -difference—here, however, once more incidentally suggested—between -protoplasm and protoplasm. Mr. Huxley, that is, almost in his very last -word on this part of the argument, seems to become aware of the bearing -of this on what relates to materiality, and he would again stamp -protoplasm (and with it life and intellect), into an indifferent -identity. In order that there should be no break between the lowest -functions and the highest (the functions of the fungus and the functions -of man), he has “endeavored to prove,” he says, that the protoplasm of -the lowest organisms is “essentially identical with, and most readily -converted into that of any animal.” On this alleged reciprocal -_convertibility_ of protoplasm, then, Mr. Huxley would again found as -well an inference of identity, as the further conclusion that the -functions of the highest, not less than those of the lowest animals, are -but the molecular manifestations of their common protoplasm. - -Plainly here it is only the consideration, not of function, but of the -alleged reciprocal _convertibility_ that is left us now. Is this true, -then? Is it true that every organism can digest every other organism, -and that thus a relation of identity is established between that which -digests and whatever is digested? These questions place Mr. Huxley’s -general enterprise, perhaps, in the most glaring light yet; for it is -very evident that there is an end of the argument if all foods and all -feeders are essentially identical both with themselves and with each -other. The facts of the case, however, I believe to be too well known to -require a single word here on my part. It is not long since Mr. Huxley -himself pointed out the great difference between the foods of plants and -the foods of animals; and the reader may be safely left to think for -himself of _ruminantia_ and _carnivora_, of soft bills and hard bills, -of molluscs and men. Mr. Huxley talks feelingly of the possibility of -himself feeding the lobster quite as much as of the lobster feeding him; -but such pathos is not always applicable; it is not likely that a sponge -would be to the stomach of Mr. Huxley any more than Mr. Huxley to the -stomach of a sponge. - -But a more important point is this, that the functions themselves remain -quite apart from the alleged convertibility. We can neither acquire the -functions of what we eat, nor impart our functions to what eats us. We -shall not come to fly by feeding on vultures, nor they to speak by -feeding on us. No possible manure of human brains will enable a -corn-field to reason. But if functions are inconvertible, the -convertibility of the protoplasm is idle. In this inconvertibility, -indeed, functions will be seen to be independent of mere chemical -composition. And that is the truth: for functions there is more required -than either chemistry or physics. - -It is to be acknowledged—to notice one other incidental suggestion, for -the sake of completeness, and by way of transition to the final -consideration of possible objections—that Mr. Huxley would be very much -assisted in his identification of differences, were but the theories of -the molecularists, on the one hand, and of Mr. Darwin, on the other, -once for all established. The three modes of theorizing indicated, -indeed, are not without a tendency to approach one another; and it is -precisely their union that would secure a definitive triumph for the -doctrine of materialism. Mr. Huxley, as we have seen—though what he -desiderates is an auto-plastic living _matter_ that, produced by -ordinary chemical processes, is yet capable of continuing and developing -itself into new and higher forms—still begins with the egg. Now the -theory of the molecularists would, for its part, remove all the -difficulties that, for materialism, are involved in this beginning; it -would place protoplasm undeniably at length on a merely chemical level; -and would fairly enable Mr. Darwin, supplemented by such a life-stuff, -to account by natural means for everything like an idea or thought that -appears in creation. The misfortune is, however, that we must believe -the theory of the molecularists still to await the proof; while the -theory of Mr. Darwin has many difficulties peculiar to itself. This -theory, philosophically, or in ultimate analysis, is an attempt to prove -that design, or the objective idea, especially in the organic world, is -developed _in time_ by natural means. The time which Mr. Darwin demands, -it is true, is an infinite time; and he thus gains the advantage of his -processes being allowed greater _clearness_ for the understanding, in -consequence of the _obscurity_ of the infinite past in which they are -placed, and of which it is difficult in the first instance to deny any -possibility whatever. Still it remains to be asked, Are such processes -credible in any time? What Mr. Darwin has done in aid of his view is, -first, to lay before us a knowledge of facts in natural history of -surprising richness; and, second, to support this knowledge by an -inexhaustible ingenuity of hypothesis in arrangement of appearances. -Now, in both respects, whether for information or even interest, the -value of Mr. Darwin’s contribution will probably always remain -independent of the argument or arguments that might destroy his leading -proposition; and it is with this proposition that we have here alone to -do. As said, we ask only, Is it true that the objective idea, the design -which we see in the organized world, is the result in infinite time of -the necessary adaption of living structures to the peculiarities of the -conditions by which they are surrounded? - -Against this theory, then, its own absolute generalization may be viewed -as our first objection. In ultimate abstraction, that is, the only -agency postulated by Mr. Darwin is time—infinite time; and as regards -actually existent beings and actually existent conditions, it is hardly -possible to deny any possibility whatever to infinitude. If told, for -example, that the elephant, if only obliged _infinitely_ to run, might -be converted into the stag, how should we be able to deny? So also, if -the lengthening of the giraffe’s neck were hypothetically attributed to -a succession of dearths in infinite time that only left the leaves of -trees for long-necked animals to live on, we should be similarly -situated as regards denial. Still it can be pointed out that ingenuity -of natural conjecture has, in such cases, no less wide a field for the -negation than for the affirmation; and that, on the question of fact, -nothing is capable of being determined. But we can also say more than -that—we can say that any fruitful application even of _infinite time_ to -the _general problem of difference_ in the world is inconceivable. To -explain all from an absolute beginning requires us to commence with -nothing; but to this nothing time itself is an addition. Time is an -entity, a something, a difference added to the original identity: whence -or how came time? Time cannot account for its own self; how is it that -there is such a thing as time? Then no conceivable brooding even of -infinite time could hatch the infinitude of space. How is it there is -such a thing as space? No possible clasps of time and space, further, -could ever conceivably thicken into matter. How is it there is such a -thing as matter? Lastly, so far, no conceivable brooding, or even -gyrating, of a single matter in time and space could account for the -specification of matter—carbon, gold, iodine, etc.—as we see and know -it. Time, space, matter, and the whole inorganic world, thus remain -impassive to the action even of infinite time; all _these_ differences -remain incapable of being accounted for so. - -But suppose no curiosity had ever been felt in this reference, which, -though scientifically indefensible, is quite possible, how about the -transition of the inorganic into the organic? Mr. Huxley tells us that, -for food, the plant needs nothing but its bath of smelling-salts. -Suppose this bath now—a pool of a solution of carbonate of ammonia; can -any action of sun, or air, or electricity, be conceived to develop a -cell—or even so much lump-protoplasm—in this solution? The production of -an initial cell in any such manner will not allow itself to be realized -to thought. Then we have just to think for a moment of the vast -differences into which, for the production of the present organized -world, this cell must be distributed, to shake our heads and say we -cannot well refuse anything to an infinite time, but still we must -pronounce a problem of this reach hopeless. - -It is precisely in conditions, however, that Mr. Darwin claims a -solution of this problem. Conditions concern all that relates to air, -heat, light, land, water, and whatever they imply. Our second objection, -consequently, is, that conditions are quite inadequate to account for -present organized differences, from a single cell. Geological time, for -example, falls short, after all, of infinite time; or, in known -geological eras, let us calculate them as liberally as we may, there is -not time enough to account for the presently-existing varieties, from -one, or even several, primordial forms. So to speak, it is not _in_ -geological time to account for the transformation of the elephant into -the stag from acceleration, or for that of the stag into the elephant -from retardation, of movement. And we may speak similarly of the growth -of the neck of the giraffe, or even of the elevation of the monkey into -man. Moreover, time apart, conditions have no such power in themselves. -It is impossible to conceive of animal or vegetable effluvia ever -creating the nerve by which they are felt, and so gradually the -Schneiderian membrane, nose, and whole olfactory apparatus. Yet these -effluvia are the conditions of smell, and, _ex hypothesi_, ought to have -created it. Did light, or did the pulsations of the air, ever by any -length of time, indent into the sensitive cell, eyes, and a pair of -eyes—ears, and a pair of ears? Light conceivably might shine for ever -without such a wonderfully complicated result as an eye. Similarly, for -delicacy and marvellous ingenuity of structure, the ear is scarcely -inferior to the eye; and surely it is possible to think of a whole -infinitude of those fitful and fortuitous air-tremblings, which we call -sound, without indentation into anything whatever of such an organ. - -A third objection to Mr. Darwin’s theory is, that the play of natural -contingency in regard to the vicissitudes of conditions, has no title to -be named _selection_. Naturalists have long known and spoken of the -“influence of accidental causes;” but Mr. Darwin was the first to apply -the term _selection_ to the action of these, and thus convert accident -into design. The agency to which Mr. Darwin attributes all the changes -which he would signalize in animals is really the fortuitous contingency -of brute nature; and it is altogether fallacious to call such process, -or such non-process, by a term involving foresight and a purpose. We -have here, indeed, only a metaphor wholly misapplied. The German writer -who, many years ago, said “even the _genera_ are wholly a prey to the -changes of the external universal life,” saw precisely what Mr. Darwin -sees, but it never struck him to style contingency selection. Yet, how -dangerous, how infectious, has not this ungrounded metaphor proved! It -has become a _principle_, a _law_, and been transferred by very genuine -men into their own sciences of philology and what not. People will -wonder at all this by-and-by. But to point out the inapplicability of -such a word to the processes of nature referred to by Mr. Darwin, is to -point out also the impossibility of any such contingencies proceeding, -by graduated rise, from stage to stage, into the great symmetrical -organic system—the vast plan—the grand harmonious whole—by which we are -surrounded. This rise, this system, is really the objective idea; but it -is utterly incapable of being accounted for by any such agency as -natural contingency in geological, or infinite, or any time. But it is -this which the word selection tends to conceal. - -We may say, lastly, in objection, here, that, in the fact of “reversion” -or “atavism,” Mr. Darwin acknowledges his own failure. We thus see that -the species as species is something independent, and holds its own -_insita vis naturæ_ within itself. - -Probably it is not his theory, then, that gives value to Mr. Darwin’s -book; nor even his ready ingenuity, whatever interest it may lend: it is -the material information it contains. The ingenuity, namely, verges -somewhat on that Humian expedient of natural conjecture so copiously -exemplified, on occasion of a few trite texts, in Mr. Buckle. But that -natural conjecture is always insecure, equivocal, and many-sided. It may -be said that ancient warfare, for example, giving victory always to the -personally ablest and bravest, must have resulted in the improvement of -the race; or that, the weakest being always necessarily left at home, -the improvement was balanced by deterioration; or that the ablest were -necessarily the most exposed to danger, and so, etc., etc., according, -to ingenuity _usque ad infinitum_. Trustworthy conclusion is not -possible to this method, but only to the induction of facts, or to -scientific demonstration. - -Neither molecularists nor Darwinians, then, are able to level out the -difference between organic and inorganic, or between genera and genera -or species and species. The differences persist despite of both; the -distributed identity remains unaccounted for. Nor, consequently, is Mr. -Darwin’s theory competent to explain the objective idea by any reference -to time and conditions. Living beings do exist in a mighty chain from -the moss to the man; but that chain, far from founding, is founded in -the idea, and is not the result of any mere natural _growth_ of this -into that. That chain is itself the most brilliant stamp, the -sign-manual, of design. On every ledge of nature, from the lowest to the -highest, there is a life that is _its_,—a creature to represent it, -reflect it—so to speak, pasture on it. The last, highest, brightest link -of this chain is man; the incarnation of thought itself, which is the -summation of this universe; man, that includes in himself all other -links and their single secret—the personified universe, the subject of -the world. Mr. Huxley makes but small reference to thought; he only -tucks it in, as it were, as a mere appendicle of course. - -It may be objected, indeed—to reach the last stage in this -discussion—that, if Mr. Huxley has not disproved the conception of -thought and life “as a something which works through matter, but is -independent of it,” neither have we proved it. But it is easy for us to -reply that, if “_independent of_” means here “_unconnected with_,” we -have had no such object. We have had no object whatever, in fact, but to -resist, now the extravagant assertion that all organized tissue, from -the lichen to Leibnitz, is alike in faculty, and again the equally -extravagant assertion that life and thought are but ordinary products of -molecular chemistry. As regards the latter assertion, we have endeavored -to show that the processes of vital organization (as self-production, -etc.) belong to another sphere, higher than, and very different from, -those of mechanical juxtaposition or chemical neutralization; that life, -then, is no mere product of matter as matter; that if no life can be -pointed to independent of matter, neither is there any life-stuff -independent of life; and that life, consequently, adds a new and higher -force to chemistry, as chemistry a new and higher force to mechanics, -etc. As for thought, the endeavor was to show that it was as independent -on the one side as matter on the other, that it controlled, used, -summed, and was the reason of matter. Thought, then, is not to be -reached by any bridge from matter, that is a hybrid of both, and -explains the connection. The relation of matter to mind is not to be -explained as a transition, but as a _contrecoup_. In this relation, -however, it is not the material, but the mental side, which the whole -universe declares to be the dominant one. - -As regards any objection to the arguments which we have brought against -the identity of protoplasm, again, these will lie in the phrase, -probably, “difference not of kind, but degree,” or in the word -“modification.” The “phrase” may be now passed, for generic or specific -difference must be allowed in protoplasm, if not for the overwhelming -reason that an infinitude of various kinds exist in it, each of which is -self-productive and uninterchangeable with the rest, then for Mr. -Huxley’s own reason, that plants assimilate inorganic matter and animals -only organic. As for the objection “modification,” again, the same -consideration of generic difference must prove fatal to it. This were -otherwise, indeed, could but the molecularists and Mr. Darwin succeed in -destroying generic difference; but in this, as we have seen, they have -failed. And this will be always so: who dogs identity, difference dogs -him. It is quite a justifiable endeavor, for example, to point out the -identity that obtains between veins and arteries on the one hand, as -between these and capillaries on the other; but all the time the -difference is behind us; and when we turn to look, we see, for -circulation, the valves of the veins and the elastic coats of the -arteries as opposed to one another, and, for irrigation, the permeable -walls of the capillaries as opposed to both. - -Generic differences exist then, and we cannot allow the word -“modification” to efface them in the interest of the identity claimed -for protoplasm. Brain-protoplasm is not bone-protoplasm, nor the -protoplasm of the fungus the protoplasm of man. Similarly, it is very -questionable how far the word “modification” will warrant us in -regarding with Mr. Huxley the “ducts, fibres, pollen, and ovules” of the -nettle as identical with the protoplasm of its sting. Things that -originate alike may surely eventuate in others which, chemically and -vitally, far from being mere modifications, must be pronounced totally -different. Such eventuation must be held competent to what can only be -named generic or specific difference. The “child” is only “_father_ of -the man”—it is not the man; who, moreover, in the course of an ordinary -life, we are told, has totally changed himself, not once, but many -times, retaining at the last not one single particle of matter with -which he set out. Such eventuations, whether called modifications or -not, certainly involve essential difference. And so situated are the -“ducts, fibres, pollen, and ovules” of the nettle, which, whether -compared with the protoplasm of the nettle-sting, or with that in which -they originated, must be held to here assumed, by their own actions, -indisputable differences, physical, chemical, and vital, or in form, -substance, and faculty. - -Much, in fact, depends on definition here; and, in reference to -modification, it may be regarded as arbitrary when identity shall be -admitted to cease and difference to begin. There are the old Greek -puzzles of the Bald Head and the Heap, for example. How many grains, or -how many hairs, may we remove before a heap of wheat is no heap, or a -head of hair bald? These concern quantity alone; but, in other cases, -bone, muscle, brain, fungus, tree, man, there is not only a -quantitative, but a qualitative difference; and in regard to such -differences, the word modification can be regarded as but a cloak, under -which identity is to be shuffled into difference, but remain identity -all the same. The brick is but modified clay, Mr. Huxley intimates, bake -it and paint it as you may; but is the difference introduced by the -baking and painting to be ignored? Is what Mr. Huxley calls the -“artifice” not to be taken into account, leave alone the “potter?” The -strong firm rope is about as exact an example of modification -proper—modification of the weak loose hemp—as can well be found; but are -we to exclude from our consideration the whole element of difference due -to the hand and brain of man? Not far from Burn’s Monument, on the -Calton Hill of Edinburgh, there lies a mass of stones which is -potentially a church, the former Trinity College Church. Were this -church again realized, would it be fair to call it a mere modification -of the previous stones? Look now to the egg and the full-feathered fowl. -Chaucer describes to us the cock, “hight chaunteclere,” that was to his -“faire Pertelotte” so dear:— - - “His comb was redder than the fine corall, - Embattled, as it were a castle-wall; - His bill was black, and as the jet it shone; - Like azure were his legges and his tone (toes); - His nailes whiter than the lilie flour, - And like the burned gold was his color.” - -Would it be even as fair to call this fine fellow—comb, wattles, spurs, -and all—a modified yolk, as to call the church but modified stones? If, -in the latter case, an element of difference, altogether undeniable, -seems to have intervened, is not such intervention at least quite as -well marked in the former? It requires but a slight analysis to detect -that all the stones in question are marked and numbered; but will any -analysis point out within the shell the various parts that only need -arrangement to become the fowl? Are the men that may take the stones, -and, in a re-erected Trinity College Church, realize anew the idea of -its architect, in any respect more wonderful than the unknown disposers -of the materials of the fowl? That what realizes the idea should, in the -one case, be from without, and, in the other, from within, is no reason -for seeing more modification and less wonder in the latter than the -former. There is certainly no more reason for seeing the fowl in the -egg, and as identical with the egg, than for seeing a re-built Trinity -College Church as identical with its unarranged materials. A part cannot -be taken for the whole, whether in space _or in time_. Mr. Huxley misses -this. He is so absorbed in the identity out of which, that he will not -see the difference into which, progress is made. As the idea of the -church has the stones, so the idea of the fowl has the egg, for its -commencement. But to this idea, and in both cases, the terminal -additions belong, quite as much as the initial materials. If the idea, -then, add sulphur, phosphorus, iron, and what not, it must be credited -with these not less than with the carbon, hydrogen, etc., with which it -began. It is not fair to mutter modification, as if it were a charm to -destroy all the industry of time. The protoplasm of the egg of the fowl -is no more the fowl than the stones the church; and to identify, by -juggle of a mere word, parts in time and wholes in time so different, is -but self-deception. Nay, in protoplasm, as we have so often seen, -difference is as much present at first as at last. Even in its germ, -even in its initial identity, to call it so, protoplasm is already -different, for it issues in differences infinite. - -Omission of the consideration of difference, it is to be acknowledged, -is not now-a-days restricted to Mr. Huxley. In the wonder that is -usually expressed, for example, at Oken’s _identification_ of the skull -with so many vertebræ, it is forgot that there is still implicated the -wonder which we ought to feel at the unknown power that could, in the -end, so _differentiate_ them. If the cornea of the eye and the enamel of -the teeth are alike but modified protoplasm, we must be pardoned for -thinking more of the adjective than of the substantive. Our wonder is -how, for one idea, protoplasm could become one thing here, and, for -another idea, another so different thing there. We are more curious -about the modification than the protoplasm. In the difference, rather -than in the identity, it is, indeed, that the wonder lies. Here are -several thousand pieces of protoplasm; analysis can detect no difference -in them. They are to us, let us say, as they are to Mr. Huxley, -identical in power, in form, and in substance; and yet on all these -several thousand little bits of apparently indistinguishable matter an -element of difference so pervading and so persistent has been impressed, -that, of them all, not one is interchangeable with another! Each seed -feeds its own kind. The protoplasm of the gnat will no more grow into -the fly than it will grow into an elephant. Protoplasm is protoplasm: -yes, but man’s protoplasm is man’s protoplasm, and the mushroom’s the -mushroom’s. In short, it is quite evident that the word modification, if -it would conceal, is powerless to withdraw, the difference; which -difference, moreover, is one of kind and not of degree. - -This consideration of possible objections, then, is the last we have to -attend to; and it only remains to draw the general conclusion. All -animal and vegetable organisms are alike in power, in form, and in -substance, only if the protoplasm of which they are composed is -similarly alike; and the functions of all animal and vegetable organisms -are but properties of the molecular affections of their chemical -constituents, only if the functions of the protoplasm, of which they are -composed, are but properties of the molecular affections of _its_ -chemical constituents. In disproof of the affirmative in both clauses, -there has been no object but to demonstrate, on the one hand, the -infinite non-identity of protoplasm, and, on the other, the dependence -of its functions upon other factors than its molecular constituents. - -In short, the whole position of Mr. Huxley, that all organisms consist -alike of the same life-matter, which life-matter is, for its part, due -only to chemistry, must be pronounced untenable—nor less untenable the -materialism he would found on it. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - _ON THE HYPOTHESIS OF EVOLUTION_: - - PHYSICAL AND METAPHYSICAL. - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - ON THE - - HYPOTHESIS OF EVOLUTION: - - _PHYSICAL AND METAPHYSICAL_. - -“Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth - out of the mouth of God shall man live.” ch-hd-end There is - apparently considerable repugnance in the minds of many excellent - people to the acceptance, or even consideration, of the hypothesis - of development, or that of the gradual creation by descent, with - modification from the simplest beginnings, of the different forms of - the organic world. This objection probably results from two - considerations: first, that the human species is certainly involved, - and man’s descent from an ape asserted; and, secondly, that the - scheme in general seems to conflict with that presented by the - Mosaic account of the Creation, which is regarded as communicated to - its author by an infallible inspiration. - - As the truth of the hypothesis is held to be infinitely probable by - a majority of the exponents of the natural sciences at the present - day, and is held as absolutely demonstrated by another portion, it - behooves those interested to restrain their condemnation, and on the - other hand to examine its evidences, and look any consequent - necessary modification of our metaphysical or theological views - squarely in the face. - - The following pages state a few of the former; if they suggest some - of the latter, it is hoped that they may be such as any logical mind - would deduce from the premises. That they will coincide with the - spirit of the most advanced Christianity, I have no doubt; and that - they will add an appeal through the reason to that direct influence - of the Divine Spirit which should control the motives of human - action, seems an unavoidable conclusion. - - - I. PHYSICAL EVOLUTION. - - It is well known that a species is usually represented by a great - number of individuals, distinguished from all other similar - associations by more or less numerous points of structure, color, - size, etc., and by habits and instincts also, to a certain extent; - that the individuals of such associations reproduce their like, and - cannot be produced by individuals of associations or species which - present differences of structure, color, etc., as defined by - naturalists; that the individuals of any such series or species are - incapable of reproducing with those of any other species, with some - exceptions; and that in the latter cases the offspring are usually - entirely infertile. - - The hypothesis of Cuvier assumes that each species was created by - Divine power as we now find it at some definite point of geologic - time. The paleontologist holding this view sees, in accordance - therewith, a succession of creations and destructions marking the - history of life on our planet from its commencement. - - The development hypothesis states that all existing species have - been derived from species of preëxistent geological periods, as - offspring or by direct descent; that there have been no total - destructions of life in past time, but only a transfer of it from - place to place, owing to changes of circumstance; that the types of - structure become simpler and more similar to each other as we trace - them from later to earlier periods; and that finally we reach the - simplest forms consistent with one or several original parent types - of the great divisions into which living beings naturally fall. - - It is evident, therefore, that the hypothesis does not include - change of species by hybridization, nor allow the descent of living - species from any other _living_ species: both these propositions are - errors of misapprehension or misrepresentation. - - In order to understand the history of creation of a complex being, - it is necessary to analyze it and ascertain of what it consists. In - analyzing the construction of an animal or plant we readily arrange - its characters into those which it possesses in common with other - animals or plants, and those in which it resembles none other: the - latter are its _individual_ characters, constituting its - individuality. Next we find a large body of characters, generally of - a very obvious kind, which it possesses in common with a generally - large number of individuals, which, taken collectively, all men are - accustomed to call a species; these characters we consequently name - _specific_. Thirdly, we find characters, generally in parts of the - body which are of importance in the activities of the animal, or - which lie in near relation to its mechanical construction in - details, which are shared by a still larger number of individuals - than those which were similar in specific characters. In other - words, it is common to a large number of species. This kind of - character we call _generic_, and the grouping it indicates is a - genus. - - Farther analysis brings to light characters of organism which are - common to a still greater number of individuals; this we call a - _family_ character. Those which are common to still more numerous - individuals are the _ordinal_: they are usually found in parts of - the structure which have the closest connection with the whole - life-history of the being. Finally, the individuals composing many - orders will be found identical in some important character of the - systems by which ordinary life is maintained, as in the nervous and - circulatory: the divisions thus outlined are called _classes_. - - By this process of analysis we reach in our animal or plant those - peculiarities which are common to the whole animal or vegetable - kingdom, and then we have exhausted the structure so completely that - we have nothing remaining to take into account beyond the - cell-structure or homogeneous protoplasm by which we know that it is - organic, and not a mineral. - - The history of the origin of a type, as species, genus, order, etc., - is simply the history of the origin of the structure or structures - which define those groups respectively. It is nothing more nor less - than this, whether a man or an insect be the object of - investigation. - - - EVIDENCES OF DERIVATION. - - α. Of Specific Characters. - - The evidences of derivation of species from species, within the - limits of the genus, are abundant and conclusive. In the first - place, the rule which naturalists observe in defining species is a - clear consequence of such a state of things. It is not amount and - degree of difference that determine the definition of species from - species, but it is the _permanency_ of the characters in all cases - and under all circumstances. Many species of the systems include - varieties and extremes of form, etc., which, were they at all times - distinct, and not connected by intermediate forms, would be - estimated as species by the same and other writers, as can be easily - seen by reference to their works. - - Thus, species are either “restricted” or “protean,” the latter - embracing many, the former few variations; and the varieties - included by the protean species are often as different from each - other in their typical forms as are the “restricted” species. As an - example, the species _Homo sapiens_ (man) will suffice. His primary - varieties are as distinct as the species of many well-known genera, - but cannot be defined, owing to the existence of innumerable - intermediate forms between them. - - As to the common origin of such “varieties” of the protean species, - naturalists never had any doubt, yet when it comes to the restricted - “species,” the anti-developmentalist denies it _in toto_. Thus the - varieties of most of the domesticated animals are some of them - known—others held with great probability to have had a common - origin. Varieties of plumage in fowls and canaries are of every-day - occurrence, and are produced under our eyes. The cart-horse and - racer, the Shetland pony and the Norman, are without doubt derived - from the same parentage. The varieties of pigeons and ducks are of - the same kind, but not every one is aware of the extent and amount - of such variations. The varieties in many characters seen in hogs - and cattle, especially when examples from distant countries are - compared, are very striking, and are confessedly equal in degree to - those found to _define_ species in a state of nature: here, however, - they are not _definitive_. - - It is easy to see that all that is necessary to produce in the mind - of the anti-developmentalist the illusion of distinct origin by - creation of many of these forms, would be to destroy a number of the - intermediate conditions of specific form and structure, and thus to - leave remaining definable groups of individuals, and therefore - “species.” - - That such destructions and extinctions have been going on ever since - the existence of life on the globe is well known. That it should - affect intermediate forms, such as bind together the types of a - protean species as well as restricted species, is equally certain. - That its result has been to produce _definable_ species cannot be - denied, especially in consideration of the following facts: Protean - species nearly always have a wide geographical distribution. They - exist under more varied circumstances than do individuals of a more - restricted species. The subordinate variations of the protean - species are generally, like the restricted species, confined to - distinct subdivisions of the geographical area which the whole - occupies. As in geological time changes of level have separated - areas once continuous by bodies of water or high mountain ranges, so - have vast numbers of individuals occupying such areas been - destroyed. Important alterations of temperature, or great changes in - abundance or character of vegetable life over given areas, would - produce the same result. - - This part of the subject might be prolonged, were it necessary, but - it has been ably discussed by Darwin. The _rationale_ of the “origin - of species” as stated by him may be examined a few pages farther on. - - β. Of the Characters of Higher Groups. - - _a. Relations of Structures._ The evidences of derivative origin of - the structures defining the groups called genera, and all those of - higher grade, are of a very different character from those discussed - in relation to specific characters; they are more difficult of - observation and explanation. - - Firstly: It would appear to be supposed by many that the creation of - organic types was an irregular and capricious process, variously - pursued by its Author as regards time and place, and without - definite final aim; and this notwithstanding the wonderful evidences - we possess, in the facts of astronomy, chemistry, sound, etc., of - His adhesion to harmonious and symmetrical sequences in His modes - and plans. - - Such regularity of plan is found to exist in the relations of the - great divisions of the animal and vegetable kingdoms as at present - existing on the earth. Thus, with animals we have a great class of - species which consists of nothing more than masses or cells of - protoplasmic matter, without distinct organs; or the Protozoa. We - have then the Cœlenterata (example, corals,) where the organism is - composed of many cells arranged in distinct parts, but where a - single very simple system of organs, forming the only internal - cavity of the body, does the work of the many systems of the more - complex animals. Next, the Echinodermata (such as star-fish) present - us with a body containing distinct systems of organs enclosed in a - visceral cavity, including a rudimental nervous system in the form - of a ring. In the Molluscs to this condition is added additional - complication, including extensions of the nervous system from the - ring as a starting-point, and a special organ for a heart. In the - Articulates (crabs, insects,) we have like complications, and a long - distinct nervous axis on the lower surface of the body. The last - branch or division of animals is considered to be higher, because - all the systems of life organs are most complex or specialized. The - nervous ring is almost obliterated by a great enlargement of its - usual ganglia, thus become a brain, which is succeeded by a long - axis on the upper side of the body. This and other points define the - Vertebrata. - - Plans of structure, independent of the simplicity or perfection of - the special arrangement or structure of organs, also define these - great groups. Thus the Protozoa present a spiral, the Cœlenterata a - radiate, the Echinodermata a bilateral radiate plan. The Articulates - are a series of external rings, each in one or more respects - repeating the others. The Molluscs are a sac, while a ring above a - ring, joined together by a solid center-piece, represents the plan - of each of the many segments of the Vertebrates which give the - members of that branch their form. - - These bulwarks of distinction of animal types are entered into here - simply because they are the most inviolable and radical of those - with which we have to deal, and to give the anti-developmentalist - the best foothold for his position. I will only allude to the - relations of their points of approach, as these are affected by - considerations afterward introduced. - - The Vertebrates approach the Molluscs at the lowest extreme of the - former and higher of the latter. The lamprey eels of the one possess - several characters in common with the cuttle-fish or squids of the - latter. The amphioxus is called the lowest Vertebrate, and though it - is nothing else, the definition of the division must be altered to - receive it; it has no brain! - - The lowest forms of the Molluscs and Articulates are scarcely - distinguishable from each other, so far as adhesion to the “plan” is - concerned, and some of the latter division are very near certain - Echinodermata. As we approach the boundary-lines of the two lowest - divisions, the approaches become equally close, and the boundaries - very obscure. - - More instructive is the evidence of the relation of the subordinate - classes of any one of these divisions. The conditions of those - organs or parts which define classes exhibit a regular relation, - commencing with simplicity and ending with complication; first - associated with weak exhibitions of the highest functions of the - nervous system—at the last displaying the most exalted traits found - in the series. - - For example: In the classes of Vertebrates we find the lowest - nervous system presents great simplicity—the brain cannot be - recognized; next (in lampreys), the end of the nervous axis is - subdivided, but scarcely according to the complex type that follows. - In fishes the cerebellum and cerebral hemispheres are minute, and - the intermediate or optic lobes very large: in the reptiles the - cerebral hemispheres exceed the optic lobes, while the cerebellum is - smaller. In birds the cerebellum becomes complex and the cerebrum - greatly increases. In mammals the cerebellum increases in complexity - or number of parts, the optic lobes diminish, while the cerebral - hemispheres become wonderfully complex and enlarged, bringing us to - the highest development, in man. - - The history of the circulatory system in the Vertebrates is the - same.[45] First, a heart with one chamber, then one with two - divisions: three divisions belong to a large series, and the highest - possess four. The origins of the great artery of the body, the - aorta, are first five on each side: they lose one in the succeeding - class in the ascending scale, and one in each succeeding class or - order, till the Mammalia, including man, present us with but one on - one side. - -Footnote 45: - - See a homological system of the circulatory system in the author’s - Origin of Genera, p. 22. - - From an infinitude of such considerations as the above, we derive - the certainty that the general arrangement of the various groups of - the organic world is in scales, the subordinate within the more - comprehensive divisions. The identification of all the parts in such - a complexity of organism as the highest animals present, is a matter - requiring much care and attention, and constitutes the study of - homologies. Its pursuit has resulted in the demonstration that every - individual of every species of a given branch of the animal kingdom - is composed of elements common to all, and that the differences - which are so radical in the higher groups are but the modifications - of the same elemental parts, representing completeness or - incompleteness, obliteration or subdivision. Of the former character - are rudimental organs, of which almost every species possesses an - example in some part of its structure. - - But we have other and still more satisfactory evidence of the - meaning of these relations. By the study of embryology we can prove - most indubitably that the simple and less complex are inferior to - the more complex. Selecting the Vertebrates again as an example, the - highest form of mammal—_e.g._, man—presents in his earliest stages - of embryonic growth a skeleton of cartilage, like that of the - lamprey: he also possesses five origins of the aorta and five slits - on the neck, both which characters belong to the lamprey and the - shark. If the whole number of these parts does not coexist in the - embryonic man, we find in embryos of lower forms more nearly related - to the lamprey that they do. Later in the life of the mammal but - four aortic origins are found, which arrangement, with the heart now - divided into two chambers, from a beginning as a simple tube, is - characteristic of the class of Vertebrates next in order—the bony - fishes. The optic lobes of the human brain have also at this time a - great predominance in size—a character above stated to be that of - the same class. With advancing development the infant mammal follows - the scale already pointed out. Three chambers of the heart and three - aortic origins follow, presenting the condition permanent in the - batrachia; and two origins, with enlarged cerebral hemispheres of - the brain, resemble the reptilian condition. Four heart-chambers, - and one aortic root on each side, with slight development of the - cerebellum, follow all characters defining the crocodiles, and - immediately precede the special conditions defining the mammals. - These are, the single aorta root from one side, and the full - development of the cerebellum: later comes that of the cerebrum also - in its higher mammalian and human traits. - - Thus we see the order already pointed out to be true, and to be an - ascending one. This is the more evident as each type or class passes - through the conditions of those below it, as did the mammal; each - scale being shorter as its highest terminus is lower. Thus the - crocodile passes through the stage of the lamprey, the fish, the - batrachian and the reptile proper. - - _b. In Time._ We have thus a scale of relations of existing forms of - animals and plants of a remarkable kind, and such as to stimulate - greatly our inquiries as to its significance. When we turn to the - remains of the past creation preserved to us in the deposits - continued throughout geologic time, we are not disappointed, for - great light is at once thrown upon the subject. - - We find, in brief, that the lowest division of the animal kingdom - appeared first, and long before any type of a higher character was - created. The Protozoön, Eozoön, is the earliest of animals in - geologic time, and represents the lowest type of animal life now - existing. We learn also that the highest branch appeared last. No - remains of Vertebrates have been found below the lower Devonian - period, or not until the Echinoderms and Molluscs had reached a - great preëminence. It is difficult to be sure whether the Protozoa - had a greater numerical extent in the earliest periods than now, but - there can be no doubt that the Cœlenterata (corals) and Echinoderms - (crinoids) greatly exceeded their present bounds, in Paleozoic time, - so that those at present existing are but a feeble remnant. If we - examine the subdivisions known as classes, evidence of the nature of - the succession of creation is still more conclusive. The most - polyp-like of the Molluscs (brachiopoda) constituted the great mass - of its representatives during Paleozoic time. Among Vertebrates the - fishes appear first, and had their greatest development in size and - numbers during the earliest periods of the existence of the - division. Batrachia were much the largest and most important of land - animals during the Carboniferous period, while the higher - Vertebrates were unknown. The later Mesozoic periods saw the reign - of reptiles, whose position in structural development has been - already stated. Finally, the most perfect, the mammal, came upon the - scene, and in his humblest representatives. In Tertiary times - mammalia supplanted the reptiles entirely, and the unspiritual - mammals now yield to man, the only one of his class in whom the - Divine image appears. - - Thus the structural relations, the embryonic characters, and the - successive appearance in time of animals coincide. The same is very - probably true of plants. - - That the existing state of the geological record of organic types - should be regarded as anything but a fragment is, from our - stand-point, quite preposterous. And more, it may be assumed with - safety that when completed it will furnish us with a series of - regular successions, with but slight and regular interruptions, if - any, from the species which represented the simplest beginnings of - life at the dawn of creation, to those which have displayed - complication and power in later or in the present period. - - For the labors of the paleontologist are daily bringing to light - structures intermediate between those never before so connected, and - thus creating lines of succession where before were only - interruptions. Many such instances might be adduced: two may be - selected as examples from American paleontology;[46] _i.e._, the - near approach to birds made by the reptiles Lælaps and Megadactylus; - and the combination of characters of the sub-orders of Cryptodire - and Pleurodire Tortoises in the Adocus of New Jersey. - -Footnote 46: - - Professor Huxley, in the last anniversary lecture before the - Geological Society of London, recalls his opinion, enunciated in - 1862, that “the positively-ascertained truths of Paleontology” - negative “the doctrines of progressive modification, which suppose - that modification to have taken place by a necessary progress from - more to less embryonic forms, from more to less generalized types, - within the limits of the period represented by the fossiliferous - rocks; that it shows no evidence of such modification; and as to - the nature of that modification, it yields no evidence whatsoever - that the earlier members of any long-continued group were more - generalized in structure than the later ones.” - - Respecting this position, he says: “Thus far I have endeavored to - expand and enforce by fresh arguments, but not to modify in any - important respect, the ideas submitted to you on a former - occasion. But when I come to the propositions respecting - progressive modification, it appears to me, with the help of the - new light which has broken from various quarters, that there is - much ground for softening the somewhat Brutus-like severity with - which I have dealt with a doctrine for the truth of which I should - have been glad enough to be able to find a good foundation in - 1862. So far indeed as the Invertebrata and the lower Vertebrata - are concerned, the facts, and the conclusions which are to be - drawn from them, appear to me to remain what they were. For - anything that as yet appears to the contrary, the earliest known - marsupials may have been as highly organized as their living - congeners; the Permian lizards show no signs of inferiority to - those of the present day; the labyrinthodonts cannot be placed - below the living salamander and triton; the Devonian ganoids are - closely related to polypterus and lepidosiren.” - - To this it may be replied: 1. The scale of progression of the - Vertebrata is measured by the conditions of the circulatory - system, and in some measure by the nervous, and not by the - osseous: tested by this scale, there has been successional - complication of structure among Vertebrata in time. 2. The - question with the evolutionist is, not what types have persisted - to the present day, but the order in which types appeared in time. - 3. The Marsupials, Permian saurians, labyrinthodonts and Devonian - ganoids are remarkably generalized groups, and predecessors of - types widely separated in the present period. 4. Professor Huxley - adduces many such examples among the mammalian subdivisions in the - remaining portion of his lecture. 5. Two alternatives are yet open - in the explanation of the process of evolution: since generalized - types, which combine the characters of higher and lower groups of - later periods, must thus be superior to the lower, the lower must - (first) be descended from such a generalized form by degradation; - or (second) not descended from it at all, but from some lower - contemporaneous type by advance; the higher only of the two being - derived from the first-mentioned. The last I suspect to be a true - explanation, as it is in accordance with the homologous groups. - This law will shorten the demands of paleontologists for time, - since, instead of deriving all reptilia, batrachia, etc., from - common origins, it points to the derivation of higher reptilia of - a higher order from higher reptilia of a lower order, lower - reptilia of the first from lower reptilia of the second; finally, - the several groups of the lowest or most generalized order of - reptilia from a parallel series of the class below, or batrachia. - - We had no more reason to look for intermediate or connecting forms - between such types as these, than between any others of similar - degree of remove from each other with which we are acquainted. And - inasmuch as almost all groups, as genera, orders, etc., which are - held to be distinct, but adjacent, present certain points of - approximation to each other, the almost daily discovery of - intermediate forms gives us confidence to believe that the pointings - in other cases will also be realized. - - γ. Of Transitions. - - The preceding statements were necessary to the comprehension of the - supposed mode of metamorphosis or development of the various types - of living beings, or, in other words, of the single structural - features which define them.... As it is evident that the more - comprehensive groups, or those of highest rank, have had their - origin in remote ages, cases of transition from one to the other by - change of character cannot be witnessed at the present day. We - therefore look to the most nearly related divisions, or those of the - lowest rank, for evidence of such change. - - It is necessary to premise that embryology teaches that all the - species of a given branch of the animal kingdom (_e.g._, Vertebrate, - Mollusc, etc.) are quite identical in structural character at their - first appearance on the germinal layer of the yolk of the parent - egg. It shows that the character of the respective groups of high - rank appear first, then those of less grade, and last of all those - structures which distinguish them as genera. But among the earliest - characters which appear are those of the species, and some of those - of the individual. - - We find the characters of different _genera_ to bear the same - relation to each other that we have already seen in the case of - those definitive of orders, etc. In a natural assemblage of related - genera we discover that some are defined by characters found only in - the embryonic stages of others; while a second will present a - permanent condition of its definitive part, which marks a more - advanced stage of that highest. In this manner many stages of the - highest genus appear to be represented by permanent genera in all - natural groups. Generally, however, this resemblance does not - involve, an entire identity, there being some other immaturities - found in the highest genus at the time it presents the character - preserved in permanency by the lower, which the lower loses. Thus - (to use a very coarse example) a frog at one stage of growth has - four legs and a tail: the salamander always preserves four legs and - a tail, thus resembling the young frog. The latter is, however, not - a salamander at that time, because, among other things, the skeleton - is represented by cartilage only, and the salamander’s is ossified. - This relation is therefore an imitation only, and is called _inexact - parallelism_. - - As we compare nearer and nearer relations—_i.e._, the genera which - present fewest points of difference—we find the differences between - undeveloped stages of the higher and permanent conditions of the - lower to grow fewer and fewer, until we find numerous instances - where the lower genus is exactly the same as the undeveloped stage - of the higher. This relation is called that of _exact parallelism_. - - It must now be remembered that the permanence of a character is what - gives it its value in defining genus, order, etc., in the eyes of - the systematist. So long as the condition is permanent no transition - can be seen: there is therefore no development. If the condition is - transitional, it defines nothing, and nothing is developed; at - least, so says the anti-developmentalist. It is the old story of the - settler and the Indian: “Will you take owl and I take turkey, or I - take turkey and you owl?” - - If we find a relation of _exact parallelism_ to exist between two - sets of species in the condition of a certain organ, and the - difference so expressed the only one which distinguishes them as - sets from each other—if that condition is always the same in each - set—we call them two genera: if in any species the condition is - variable at maturity, or sometimes the undeveloped condition of the - part is persistent and sometimes transitory, the sets characterized - by this difference must be united by the systematist, and the whole - is called a single genus. - - We know numerous cases where different individuals of the same - species present this relation of _exact parallelism_ to each other; - and as we ascribe common origin to the individuals of a species, we - are assured that the condition of the inferior individual is, in - this case, simply one of repressed growth, or a failure to fulfill - the course accomplished by the highest. Thus, certain species of the - salamandrine genus amblystoma undergo a metamorphosis involving - several parts of the osseous and circulatory systems, etc., while - half grown; others delay it till fully grown; one or two species - remain indifferently unchanged or changed, and breed in either - condition, while another species breeds unchanged, and has never - been known to complete a metamorphosis. - - The nature of the relation of _exact parallelism_ is thus explained - to be that of checked or advanced growth of individuals having a - common origin. The relation of _inexact parallelism_ is readily - explained as follows: With a case of _exact parallelism_ in the - mind, let the repression producing the character of the lower, - parallelize the latter with a stage of the former in which a second - part is not quite mature: we will have a slight want of - correspondence between the two. The lower will be immature in but - one point, the incompleteness of the higher being seen in two - points. If we suppose the immaturity to consist in a repression at a - still earlier point in the history of the higher, the latter will be - undeveloped in other points also: thus, the spike-horned deer of - South America have the horn of the second year of the North American - genus. They would be generically identical with that stage of the - latter, were it not that these still possess their milk dentition at - two years of age. In the same way the nature of the parallelisms - seen in higher groups, as orders, etc., may be accounted for. - - The theory of homologous groups furnishes important evidence in - favor of derivation. Many orders of animals (probably all, when we - come to know them) are divisible into two or more sections, which I - have called _homologous_. These are series of genera or families, - which differ from each other by some marked character, but whose - contained genera or families differ from each other in the same - points of detail, and in fact correspond exactly. So striking is - this correspondence that were it not for the general and common - character separating the homologous series, they would be regarded - as the same, each to each. Now it is remarkable that where studied - the difference common to all the terms of two homologous groups is - found to be one of _inexact parallelism_, which has been shown above - to be evidence of descent. Homologous groups always occupy different - geographical areas on the earth’s surface, and their relation is - precisely that which holds between successive groups of life in the - periods of geologic time. - - In a word, we learn from this source that distinct geologic epochs - coexist at the same time on the earth. I have been forced to this - conclusion[47] by a study of the structure of terrestrial life, and - it has been remarkably confirmed by the results of recent deep-sea - dredgings made by the United States Coast Survey in the Gulf Stream, - and by the British naturalists in the North Atlantic. These have - brought to light types of Tertiary life, and of even the still more - ancient Cretaceous periods, living at the present day. That this - discovery invalidates in any wise the conclusions of geology - respecting lapse of time is an unwarranted assumption that some are - forward to make. If it changes the views of some respecting the - parallelism or coëxistence of faunæ in different regions of the - earth, it is only the anti-developmentalists whose position must be - changed. - -Footnote 47: - - _Origin of Genera_, pages 70, 77, 79. - - For, if we find distinct geologic faunæ, or epochs defined by faunæ, - coëxisting during the present period, and fading or emerging into - one another as they do at their geographical boundaries, it is proof - positive that the geologic epochs and periods of past ages had in - like manner no trenchant boundaries, but also passed the one into - the other. The assumption that the apparent interruptions are the - result of transfer of life rather than destruction, or of want of - opportunities of preservation, is no doubt the true one. - - δ. Rationale of Development. - - _a. In Characters of Higher Groups._ It is evident in the case of - the species in which there is an irregularity in the time of - completion of metamorphosis that some individuals traverse a longer - developmental line than those who remain more or less incomplete. As - both accomplish growth in the same length of time, it is obvious - that it proceeds with greater rapidity in one sense in that which - accomplishes most: its growth is said to be accelerated. This - phenomenon is especially common among insects, where the females of - perfect males are sometimes larvæ or nearly so, or pupæ, or lack - wings or some character of final development. Quite as frequently, - some males assume characters in advance of others, sometimes in - connection with a peculiar geographical range. - - In cases of _exact parallelism_ we reasonably suppose the cause to - be the same, since the conditions are identical, as has been shown; - that is, the higher conditions have been produced by a crowding back - of the earlier characters and an acceleration of growth, so that a - given succession in order of advance has extended over a longer - range of growth than its predecessor in the same allotted time. That - allotted time is the period before maturity and reproduction, and it - is evident that as fast as modifications or characters should be - assumed sufficiently in advance of that period, so certainly would - they be conferred upon the offspring by reproduction. The - _acceleration_ in the assumption of a character, progressing more - rapidly than the same in another character, must soon produce, in a - type whose stages were once the exact parallel of a permanent lower - form, the condition of _inexact parallelism_. As all the more - comprehensive groups present this relation to each other, we are - compelled to believe that _acceleration_ has been the principle of - their successive evolution during the long ages of geologic time. - - Each type has, however, its day of supremacy and perfection of - organism, and a retrogression in these respects has succeeded. This - has no doubt followed a law the reverse of acceleration, which has - been called _retardation_. By the increasing slowness of the growth - of the individuals of a genus, and later and later assumption of the - characters of the latter, they would be successively lost. - - To what power shall we ascribe this acceleration, by which the first - beginnings of structure have accumulated to themselves through the - long geologic ages complication and power, till from the germ that - was scarcely born into a sand-lance, a human being climbed the - complete scale, and stood easily the chief of the whole? - - In the cases of species, where some individuals develop farther than - others, we say the former possess more growth-force, or “vigor,” - than the latter. We may therefore say that higher types of structure - possess more “vigor” than the lower. This, however, we do not know - to be true, nor can we readily find means to demonstrate it. - - The food which is taken by an adult animal is either assimilated, to - be consumed in immediate activity of some kind, or stored for future - use, and the excess is rejected from the body. We have no reason to - suppose that the same kind of material could be made to subserve the - production of life-force by any other means than that furnished by a - living animal organism. The material from which this organism is - constructed is derived first from the parent, and afterward from the - food, etc., assimilated by the individual itself so long as growth - continues. As it is the activity of assimilation directed to a - special end during this latter period which we suppose to be - increased in accelerated development, the acceleration is evidently - not brought about by increased facilities for obtaining the means of - life which the same individual possesses as an adult. That it is not - in consequence of such increased facilities possessed by its parents - over those of the type preceding it, seems equally improbable when - we consider that the characters in which the parent’s advance has - appeared are rarely of a nature to increase those facilities. - - The nearest approach to an explanation that can be offered appears - to be somewhat in the following direction: - - There is every reason to believe that the character of the - atmosphere has gradually changed during geologic time, and that - various constituents of the mixture have been successively removed - from it, and been stored in the solid material of the earth’s crust - in a state of combination. Geological chemistry has shown that the - cooling of the earth has been accompanied by the precipitation of - many substances only gaseous at high temperatures. Hydrochloric and - sulphuric acids have been transferred to mineral deposits or aqueous - solutions. The removal of carbonic acid gas and the vapor of water - has been a process of much slower progress, and after the expiration - of all the ages a proportion of both yet remains. Evidence of the - abundance of the former in the earliest periods is seen in the vast - deposits of limestone rock; later, in the prodigious quantities of - shells which have been elaborated from the same in solution. Proof - of its abundance in the atmosphere in later periods is seen in the - extensive deposits of coal of the Carboniferous, Triassic and - Jurassic periods. If the most luxuriant vegetation of the present - day takes but fifty tons of carbon from the atmosphere in a century, - per acre, thus producing a layer over that extent of less than a - third of an inch in thickness, what amount of carbon must be - abstracted in order to produce strata of thirty-five feet in depth? - No doubt it occupied a long period, but the atmosphere, thus - deprived of a large proportion of carbonic acid, would in subsequent - periods undoubtedly possess an improved capacity for the support of - animal life. - - The successively higher degree of oxidization of the blood in the - organs designed for that function, whether performing it in water or - air, would certainly accelerate the performances of all the vital - functions, and among others that of growth. Thus it may be that - _acceleration_ can be accounted for, and the process of the - development of the orders and sundry lesser groups of the Vertebrate - kingdom indicated; for, as already pointed out, the definitions of - such are radically placed in the different structures of the organs - which aerate the blood and distribute it to its various - destinations. - - But the great question, What determined the direction of this - acceleration? remains unanswered. One cannot understand why more - highly-oxidized blood should hasten the growth of partition of the - ventricle of the heart in the serpent, the more perfectly to - separate the aerated from the impure fluid; nor can we see why a - more perfectly-constructed circulatory system, sending purer blood - to the brain, should direct accelerated growth to the cerebellum or - cerebral hemispheres in the crocodile. - - _b. In Characters of the Specific Kind._ Some of the characters - usually placed in the specific category have been shown to be the - same in kind as those of higher categories. The majority are, - however, of a different kind, and have been discussed several pages - back. - - The cause of the origin of these characters is shrouded in as much - mystery as that of those which have occupied the pages immediately - preceding. As in that case, we have to assume, as Darwin has done, a - tendency in Nature to their production. This is what he terms “the - principle of variation.” Against an unlimited variation the great - law of heredity or atavism has ever been opposed, as a conservator - and multiplier of type. This principle is exemplified in the fact - that like produces like—that children are like their parents, - frequently even in minutiæ. It may be compared to habit in - metaphysical matters, or to that singular love of time or rhythm - seen in man and lower animals, in both of which the tendency is to - repeat in continual cycles a motion or state of the mind or sense. - - Further, but a proportion of the lines of variation is supposed to - have been perpetuated, and the extinction of intermediate forms, as - already stated, has left isolated groups or species. - - The effective cause of these extinctions is stated by Darwin to have - been a “natural selection”—a proposition which distinguishes his - theory from other development hypotheses, and which is stated in - brief by the expression, “the preservation of the fittest.” Its - meaning is this: that those characters appearing as results of this - spontaneous variation which are little adapted to the conflict for - subsistence, with the nature of the supply, or with rivals in its - pursuit, dwindle and are sooner or later extirpated; while those - which are adapted to their surroundings, and favored in the struggle - for means of life and increase, predominate, and ultimately become - the centers of new variation. “I am convinced,” says Darwin, “that - natural selection has been the main, but not exclusive, means of - modification.” - - That it has been to a large extent the means of preservation of - those structures known as specific, must, I think, be admitted. They - are related to their peculiar surroundings very closely, and are - therefore more likely to exist under their influence. Thus, if a - given genus extends its range over a continent, it is usually found - to be represented by peculiar species—one in a maritime division, - another in the desert, others in the forest, in the swamp or the - elevated areas of the region. The wonderful interdependence shown by - Darwin to exist between insects and plants in the fertilization of - the latter, or between animals and their food-plants, would almost - induce one to believe that it were the true expression of the whole - law of development. - - But the following are serious objections to its universal - application: - - First: The characters of the higher groups, from genera up, are - rarely of a character to fit their possessors especially for - surrounding circumstances; that is, the differences which separate - genus from genus, order from order, etc., in the ascending scale of - each, do not seem to present a superior adaptation to surrounding - circumstances in the higher genus to that seen in the lower genus, - etc. Hence, superior adaptation could scarcely have caused their - selection above other forms not existing. Or, in other words, the - different structures which indicate successional relation, or which - measure the steps of progress, seem to be equally well fitted for - the same surroundings. - - Second: The higher groups, as orders, classes, etc., have been in - each geologic period alike distributed over the whole earth, under - all the varied circumstances offered by climate and food. Their - characters do not seem to have been modified in reference to these. - Species, and often genera, are, on the other hand, eminently - restricted according to climate, and consequently vegetable and - animal food. - - The law of development which we seek is indeed not that which - preserves the higher forms and rejects the lower after their - creation, but that which explains why higher forms were created at - all. Why in the results of a creation we see any relation of higher - and lower, and not rather a world of distinct types, each perfectly - adapted to its situation, but none properly higher than another in - an ascending scale, is the primary question. Given the principle of - advance, then natural selection has no doubt modified the details; - but in the successive advances we can scarcely believe such a - principle to be influential. _We look rather upon a progress as the - result of the expenditure of some force fore-arranged for that end._ - - It may become, then, a question whether in characters of high grade - the habit or use is not rather the result of the acquisition of the - structure than the structure the result of the encouragement offered - to its assumed beginnings by use, or by liberal nutrition derived - from the increasingly superior advantages it offers. - - ε. The Physical Origin of Man. - - If the hypothesis here maintained be true, man is the descendant of - some preëxistent generic type, the which, if it were now living, we - would probably call an ape. - - Man and the chimpanzee were in Linnæus’ system only two species of - the same genus, but a truer anatomy places them in separate genera - and distinct families. There is no doubt, however, that Cuvier went - much too far when he proposed to consider Homo as the representative - of an order distinct from the quadrumana, under the name of bimana. - The structural differences will not bear any such interpretation, - and have not the same value as those distinguishing the orders of - mammalia; as, for instance, between carnivora and bats, or the - cloven-footed animals and the rodents, or rodents and edentates. The - differences between man and the chimpanzee are, as Huxley well puts - it, much less than those between the chimpanzee and lower - quadrumana, as lemurs, etc. In fact, man is the type of a family, - Hominidæ, of the order Quadrumana, as indicated by the characters of - the dentition, extremities, brain, etc. The reader who may have any - doubts on this score may read the dissections of Geoffroy St. - Hilaire, made in 1856, before the issue of Darwin’s _Origin of - Species_. He informs us that the brain of man is nearer in structure - to that of the orang than the orang’s is to that of the South - American howler, and that the orang and howler are more nearly - related in this regard than are the howler and the marmoset. - - The modifications presented by man have, then, resulted from an - acceleration in development in some respects, and retardation - perhaps in others. But until the _combination_ now characteristic of - the genus Homo was attained the being could not properly be called - man. - - And here it must be observed that as an organic type is - characterized by the coëxistence of a number of peculiarities which - have been developed independently of each other, its distinctive - features and striking functions are not exhibited until that - coëxistence is attained which is necessary for these ends. - - Hence, the characters of the human genus were probably developed - successively; but few of the indications of human superiority - appeared until the combination was accomplished. Let the opposable - thumb be first perfected, but of what use would it be in human - affairs without a mind to direct? And of what use a mind without - speech to unlock it? And speech could not be possible though all the - muscles of the larynx but one were developed, or but a slight - abnormal convexity in one pair of cartilages remained. - - It would be an objection of little weight could it be truly urged - that there have as yet no remains of apelike men been discovered, - for we have frequently been called upon in the course of - paleontological discovery to bridge greater gaps than this, and - greater remain, which we expect to fill. But we _have_ apelike - characters exhibited by more than one race of men yet existing. - - But the remains of that being which is supposed to have been the - progenitor of man may have been discovered a short time since in the - cave of Naulette, Belgium, with the bones of the extinct rhinoceros - and elephant. - - We all admit the existence of higher and lower races, the latter - being those which we now find to present greater or less - approximations to the apes. The peculiar structural characters that - belong to the negro in his most typical form are of that kind, - however great may be the distance of his remove therefrom. The - flattening of the nose and prolongation of the jaws constitute such - a resemblance; so are the deficiency of the calf of the leg, and the - obliquity of the pelvis, which approaches more the horizontal - position than it does in the Caucasian. The investigations made at - Washington during the war with reference to the physical - characteristics of the soldiers show that the arms of the negro are - from one to two inches longer than those of the whites: another - approximation to the ape. In fact, this race is a species of the - genus Homo, as distinct in character from the Caucasian as those we - are accustomed to recognize in other departments of the animal - kingdom; but he is not distinct by isolation, since intermediate - form’s between him and the other species can be abundantly found. - - And here let it be particularly observed that two of the most - prominent characters of the negro are those of immature stages of - the Indo-European race in its characteristic types. The deficient - calf is the character of infants at a very early stage; but, what is - more important, the flattened bridge of the nose and shortened nasal - cartilages are universally immature conditions of the same parts in - the Indo-European. Any one may convince himself of that by examining - the physiognomies of infants. In some races—_e.g._, the Slavic—this - undeveloped character persists later than in some others. The Greek - nose, with its elevated bridge, coincides not only with æsthetic - beauty, but with developmental perfection. - - This is, however, only “_inexact_ parallelism,” as the characters of - the hair, etc., cannot be explained on this principle _among - existing races_. The embryonic characters mentioned are probably a - remnant of those characteristic of the primordial race or species. - - But the man of Naulette, if he be not a monstrosity, in a still more - distinct and apelike species. The chin, that marked character of - other species of men, is totally wanting, and the dentition is quite - approximate to the man-like apes, and different from that of modern - men. The form is very massive, as in apes. That he was not abnormal - is rendered probable by approximate characters seen in a jaw from - the cave of Puy-sur-Aube, and less marked in the lowest races of - Australia and New Caledonia. - - As to the single or multiple origin of man, science as yet furnishes - no answer. It is very probable that, in many cases, the species of - one genus have descended from corresponding species of another by - change of generic characters only. It is a remarkable fact that the - orang possesses the peculiarly developed malar bones and the copper - color characteristic of the Mongolian inhabitants of the regions in - which this animal is found, while the gorilla exhibits the - prognathic jaws and black hue of the African races near whom he - dwells. This kind of geographical imitation is very common in the - animal kingdom. - - ζ. The Mosaic Account. - - As some persons imagine that this hypothesis conflicts with the - account of the creation of man given in Genesis, a comparison of - some of the points involved is made below. - - First: In Genesis i. 26, 27, we read, “And God said, Let us make man - in our image, after our likeness,” etc. “So God created man in his - own image, in the image of God created he him; male and female - created he them.” Those who believe that this “image” is a physical, - material form, are not disposed to admit the entrance of anything - apelike into its constitution, for the ascription of any such - appearance to the Creator would be impious and revolting. But we are - told that “God is a Spirit,” and Christ said to his disciples after - his resurrection, “A spirit hath not flesh and bones, as ye see me - have.” Luke xxiv. 39. It will require little further argument to - show that a mental and spiritual image is what is meant, as it is - what truly exists. Man’s conscience, intelligence and creative - ingenuity show that he possesses an “image of God” within him, the - possession of which is really necessary to his limited comprehension - of God and of God’s ways to man. - - Second: In Genesis ii. 7, the text reads, “And the Lord God formed - man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the - breath of life; and man became a living soul.” The fact that man is - the result of the modification of an apelike predecessor nowise - conflicts with the above statement as to the materials of which his - body is composed. Independently of origin, if the body of man be - composed of dust, so must that of the ape be, since the composition - of the two is identical. But the statement simply asserts that man - was created of the same materials which compose the earth: their - condition as “dust” depending merely on temperature and subdivision. - The declaration, “Dust thou art, and unto dust thou shalt return,” - must be taken in a similar sense, for we know that the decaying body - is resolved not only into its earthly constituents, but also into - carbonic acid gas and water. - - When God breathed into man’s nostrils the breath of life, we are - informed that he became, not a living body, but “a living soul.” His - descent from a preëxistent being involved the possession of a living - body; but when the Creator breathed into him we may suppose for the - present that He infused into this body the immortal part, and at - that moment man became a conscientious and responsible being. - - - II. METAPHYSICAL EVOLUTION. - - It is infinitely improbable that a being endowed with such - capacities for gradual progress as man has exhibited, should have - been full fledged in accomplishments at the moment when he could - first claim his high title, and abandon that of his simious - ancestors. We are therefore required to admit the growth of human - intelligence from a primitive state of inactivity and absolute - ignorance; including the development of one important mode of its - expression—speech; as well as that of the moral qualities, and of - man’s social system—the form in which his ideas of morality were - first displayed. - - The expression “evolution of morality” need not offend, for the - question in regard to the _laws_ of this evolution is the really - important part of the discussion, and it is to the opposing views on - this point that the most serious interest attaches. - - * * * * * - - The two views of evolution already treated of, held separately, are - quite opposed to each other. The first (and generally received) lays - stress on the influence of external surroundings, as the stimulus to - and guidance of development: it is the counterpart of Darwin’s - principle called Natural Selection in material progress. This might - be called the _Conflict theory_. The second view recognizes the - workings of a force whose nature we do not know, whose exhibitions - accord perfectly with their external surroundings (or other - exhibitions of itself), without being under their influence or more - related to them, as effect to cause, than the notes of the musical - octave or the colors of the spectrum are to each other. This is the - _Harmonic theory_. In other words, the first principle deduces - perfection from struggle and discord; the second, from the - coincident progress of many parts, forming together a divine harmony - comparable to music. That these principles are both true is rendered - extremely probable by the actual phenomena of development, material - and immaterial. In other words, struggle and discord ever await that - which is not in the advance, and which fails to keep pace with the - harmonious development of the whole. - - All who have studied the phenomena of the creation believe that - there exists in it a grand and noble harmony, such as was described - to Job when he was told that “the morning stars sang together, and - all the sons of God shouted for joy.” - - α. Development of Intelligence. - - If the brain is the organ of mind, we may be surprised to find that - the brain of the intelligent man scarcely differs in structure from - that of the ape. Whence, then, the difference of power? Though no - one will now deny that many of the Mammalia are capable of reasoning - upon observed facts, yet how greatly the results of this capacity - differ in number and importance from those achieved by human - intelligence! Like water at the temperatures of 50° and 53°, where - we perceive no difference in essential character, so between the - brains of the lower and higher monkeys no difference of function or - of intelligence is perceptible. But what a difference do the two - degrees of temperature from 33° to 31° produce in water! In like - manner the difference between the brain of the higher ape and that - of man is accompanied by a difference in function and power, on - which, man’s earthly destiny depends. In development, as with the - water so with the higher ape: some Rubicon has been crossed, some - floodgate has been opened, which marks one of Nature’s great - transitions, such as have been called “Expression points” of - progress. - - What point of progress in such a history would account for this - accession of the powers of the human intelligence? It has been - answered, with considerable confidence, The power of speech. Let us - picture man without speech. Each generation would learn nothing from - its predecessors. Whatever originality or observation might yield to - a man would die with him. Each intellectual life would begin where - every other life began, and would end at a point only differing with - its original capacity. Concert of action, by which man’s power over - the material world is maintained, would not exceed, if it equaled, - that which is seen among the bees; and the material results of his - labors would not extend beyond securing the means of life and the - employment of the simplest modes of defence and attack. - - The first men, therefore, are looked upon by the developmentalists - as extremely embryonic in all that characterizes humanity, and they - appeal to the facts of history in support of this view. If they do - not derive much assistance from written history, evidence is found - in the more enduring relics of human handiwork. - - The opposing view is, that the races which present or have presented - this condition of inferiority or savagery have reached it by a - process of degradation from a higher state—as some believe, through - moral delinquency. This position may be true in certain cases, which - represent perhaps a condition of senility, but in general we believe - that savagery was the condition of the first man, which has in some - races continued to the present day. - - _β. Evidence from Archæology._ - - As the object of the present essay is not to examine fully into the - evidences for the theories of evolution here stated, but rather to - give a sketch of such theories and their connection, a few facts - only will be noticed. - - _Improvement in the use of Materials._ As is well known, the remains - of human handiwork of the earliest periods consist of nothing but - rude implements of stone and bone, useful only in procuring food and - preparing it for use. Even when enterprise extended beyond the - ordinary routine, it was restrained by the want of proper - instruments. Knives and other cutting implements of flint still - attest the skill of the early races of men from Java to the Cape of - Good Hope, from Egypt to Ireland, and through North and South - America. Hatchets, spear-heads and ornaments of serpentine, granite, - silex, clay slates, and all other suitable rock materials, are found - to have been used by the first men, to the exclusion of metals, in - most of the regions of the earth. - - Later, the probably accidental discovery of the superiority of some - of the metals resulted in the substitution of them for stone as a - material for cutting implements. Copper—the only metal which, while - malleable, is hard enough to bear an imperfect edge—was used by - succeeding races in the Old World and the New. Implements of this - material are found scattered over extensive regions. So desirable, - however, did the hardening of the material appear for the - improvement of the cutting edge that combinations with other metals - were sought for and discovered. The alloy with tin, forming bronze - and brass, was discovered and used in Europe, while that with silver - appears to have been most readily produced in America, and was - consequently used by the Peruvians and other nations. - - The discovery of the modes of reducing iron ores placed in the hands - of man the best material for bringing to a shape, convenient for his - needs the raw material of the world. All improvements in this - direction made since that time have been in the quality of iron - itself, and not through the introduction of any new metal. - - The prevalent phenomena of any given period are those which give it - its character, and by which we distinguish it. But this fact does - not exclude the coëxistence of other phenomena belonging to prior or - subsequent stages. Thus, during the many stages of human progress - there have been men more or less in advance of the general body, and - their characteristics have given a peculiar stamp to the later and - higher condition of the whole. It furnishes no objection to this - view that we find, as might have been anticipated, the stone, bronze - and iron periods overlaping one another, or men of an inferior - culture supplanting in some cases a superior people. A case of this - kind is seen in North America, where the existing “Indians,” - stone-men, have succeeded the mound-builders, copper-men. The - successional relation of discoveries is all that it is necessary to - prove, and this seems to be established. - - The period at which the use of metallic implements was introduced is - unknown, but Whitney says that the language of the Aryans, the - ancestors of all the modern Indo-Europeans, indicates an - acquaintance with such implements, though it is not certain whether - those of iron are to be included. The dispersion of the daughter - races, the Hindoos, the Pelasgi, Teutons, Celts, etc., could not, it - is thought, have taken place later than 3000 B. C.—a date seven - hundred years prior, to that assigned by the old chronology to the - Deluge. Those races coëxisted with the Egyptian and Chinese nations, - already civilized, and as distinct from each other in feature as - they are now. - - _Improvement in Architecture._ The earliest periods, then, were - characterized by the utmost simplicity of invention and - construction. Later, the efforts for defence from enemies and for - architectural display, which have always employed so much time and - power, began to be made. The megalithic period has left traces over - much of the earth. The great masses of stone piled on each other in - the simplest form in Southern India, and the circles of stones - planted on end in England at Stonehenge and Abury, and in Peru at - Sillustani, are relics of that period. More complex are the great - Himyaritic walls of Arabia, the works of the ancestors of the - Phœnicians in Asia Minor, and the titanic workmanship of the Pelasgi - in Greece and Italy. In the iron age we find granitic hills shaped - or excavated into temples; as, for example, everywhere in Southern - India. Near Madura the circumference of an acropolis-like hill is - cut into a series of statues in high relief, of sixty feet in - elevation. Easter Island, composed of two volcanic cones, one - thousand miles from the west coast of South America, in the bosom of - the Pacific, possesses several colossi cut from the intrusive - basalt, some in high relief on the face of the rock, others in - detached blocks removed by human art from their original positions - and brought nearer the sea-shore. - - Finally, at a more advanced stage, the more ornate and complex - structures of Central America, of Cambodia, Nineveh and Egypt, - represent the period of greatest display of architectural - expenditure. The same amount of human force has perhaps never been - expended in this direction since, though higher conceptions of - beauty have been developed in architecture with increasing - intellectuality. - - Man has passed through the block-and-brick building period of his - boyhood, and should rise to higher conceptions of what is the true - disposition of power for “him who builds for aye,” and learn that - “spectacle” is often the unwilling friend of progress. - - No traces of metallic implements have ever been found in the - salt-mines of Armenia, the turquoise-quarries in Arabia, the cities - of Central America or the excavations for mica in North Carolina, - while the direct evidence points to the conclusion that in those - places flint was exclusively used. - - The simplest occupations, as requiring the least exercise of mind, - are the pursuit of the chase and the tending of flocks and herds. - Accordingly, we find our first parents engaged in these occupations. - Cain, we are told, was, in addition, a tiller of the ground. - Agriculture in its simplest forms requires but little more - intelligence than the pursuits just mentioned, though no employment - is capable of higher development. If we look at the savage nations - at present occupying nearly half the land surface of the earth, we - shall find many examples of the former industrial condition of our - race preserved to the present day. Many of them had no knowledge of - the use of metals until they obtained it from civilized men who - visited them, while their pursuits were and are those of the chase, - tending domestic animals, and rudimental agriculture. - - γ. The Development of Language. - - In this department the fact of development from the simple to the - complex has been so satisfactorily demonstrated by philologists as - scarcely to require notice here. The course of that development has - been from monosyllabic to polysyllabic forms, and also in a process - of differentiation, as derivative races were broken off from the - original stock and scattered widely apart. The evidence is clear - that simple words for distinct objects formed the bases of the - primal languages, just as the ground, tree, sun and moon represent - the character of the first words the infant lisps. In this - department also the facts point to an infancy of the human race. - - δ. Development of the Fine Arts. - - If we look at representation by drawing or sculpture, we find that - the efforts of the earliest races of which we have any knowledge - were quite similar to those which the untaught hand of infancy - traces on its slate or the savage depicts on the rocky faces of - hills. The circle or triangle for the head and body, and straight - lines for the limbs, have been preserved as the first attempts of - the men of the stone period, as they are to this day the sole - representations of the human form which the North American Indian - places on his buffalo robe or mountain precipice. The stiff, - barely-outlined form of the deer, the turtle, etc., are literally - those of the infancy of civilized man. - - The first attempts at sculpture were marred by the influence of - modism. Thus the idols of Coban and Palenque, with human faces of - some merit, are overloaded with absurd ornament, and deformed into - frightful asymmetry, in compliance with the demand of some imperious - mode. In later days we have the stiff, conventionalized figures of - the palaces of Nineveh and the temples of Egypt, where the - representation of form has somewhat improved, but is too often - distorted by false fashion or imitation of some unnatural standard, - real or artistic. This is distinguished as the day of archaic - sculpture, which disappeared with the Etruscan nation. So the - drawings of the child, when he abandons the simple lines, are stiff - and awkward, and but a stage nearer true representation; and how - often does he repeat some peculiarity or absurdity of his own! So - much easier is it to copy than to conceive. - - The introduction of the action and pose of life into sculpture was - not known before the early days of Greece, and it was there that the - art was brought to perfection. When art rose from its mediæval - slumber, much the same succession of development may be discovered. - First, the stiff figures, with straightened limbs and cylindric - drapery, found in the old Northern churches—then the forms of life - that now adorn the porticoes and palaces of the cities of Germany. - - ε. Rationale of the Development of Intelligence. - - The history of material development shows that the transition from - stage to stage of development, experienced by the most perfect forms - of animals and plants in their growth from the primordial cell, is - similar to the succession of created beings which the geological - epochs produced. It also shows that the slow assumption of main - characters in the line of succession in early geological periods - produced the condition of inferiority, while an increased rapidity - of growth in later days has resulted in an attainment of - superiority. It is not to be supposed that in “acceleration” the - period of growth is shortened: on the contrary, it continues the - same. Of two beings whose characters are assumed at the same rate of - succession, that with the quickest or shortest growth is necessarily - inferior. “Acceleration” means a gradual increase of the rate of - assumption of successive characters in the same period of time. A - fixed rate of assumption of characters, with gradual increase in the - length of the period of growth, would produce the same result—viz., - a longer developmental scale and the attainment of an advanced - position. The first is in part the relation of sexes of a species; - the last of genera, and of other types of creation. If from an - observed relation of many facts we derive a law, we are permitted, - when we see in another class of facts similar relations, to suspect - that a similar law has operated, differing only in its objects. We - find a marked resemblance between the facts of structural progress - in matter and the phenomena of intellectual and spiritual progress. - - If the facts entering into the categories enumerated in the - preceding section bear us out, we conclude that in the beginning of - human history the progress of the individual man was very slow, and - that but little was attained to; that through the profitable - direction of human energy, means were discovered from time to time - by which the process of individual development in all metaphysical - qualities has been accelerated; and that up to the present time the - consequent advance of the whole race has been at an increasing rate - of progress, This is in accordance with the general principle, that - high development in intellectual things is accomplished by rapidity - in traversing the preliminary stages of inferiority common to all, - while low development signifies sluggishness in that progress, and a - corresponding retention of inferiority. - - How much meaning may we not see, from this stand-point, in the - history of the intelligence of our little ones! First they crawl, - they walk on all fours: when they first assume the erect position - they are generally speechless, and utter only inarticulate sounds. - When they run about, stones and dirt, the objects that first meet - the eye, are the delight of their awakening powers, but these are - all cast aside when the boy obtains his first jackknife. Soon, - however, reading and writing open a new world to him; and finally as - a mature man he seizes the forces of nature, and steam and - electricity do his bidding in the active pursuit of power for still - better and higher ends. - - So with the history of the species: first the quadrumane—then the - speaking man, whose humble industry was, however, confined to the - objects that came first to hand, this being the “stone age” of - pre-historic time. When the use of metals was discovered, the range - of industries expanded wonderfully, and the “iron age” saw many - striking efforts of human power. With the introduction of letters it - became possible to record events and experiences, and the spread of - knowledge was thereby greatly increased, and the delays and mistakes - of ignorance correspondingly diminished in the fields of the world’s - activity. - - From the first we see in history a slow advance as knowledge gained - by the accumulation of tradition and by improvements in habit based - on experience; but how slow was this advance while the use of the - metals was still unknown! The iron age brought with it not only new - conveniences, but increased means of future progress; and here we - have an acceleration in the rate of advance. With the introduction - of letters this rate was increased many fold, and in the application - of steam we have a change equal in utility to any that has preceded - it, and adding more than any to the possibilities of future advance - in many directions. By its power, knowledge and means of happiness - were to be distributed among the many. - - The uses to which human intelligence has successively applied the - materials furnished by nature have been—First, subsistence and - defence: second, the accumulation of power in the shape of a - representative of that labor which the use of matter involves; in - other words, the accumulation of wealth. The possession of this - power involves new possibilities, for opportunity is offered for the - special pursuits of knowledge and the assistance of the weak or - undeveloped part of mankind in its struggles. - - Thus, while the first men possessed the power of speech, and could - advance a little in knowledge through the accumulation of the - experiences of their predecessors, they possessed no means of - accumulating the power of labor, no control over the activity of - numbers—in other words, no wealth. - - But the accumulation of knowledge finally brought this advance - about. The extraction and utilization of the metals, especially - iron, formed the most important step, since labor was thus - facilitated and its productiveness increased in an incalculable - degree. We have little evidence of the existence of a medium of - exchange during the first or stone period, and no doubt barter was - the only form of trade. Before the use of metals, shells and other - objects were used: remains of money of baked clay have been found in - Mexico. Finally, though in still ancient times, the possession of - wealth in money gradually became possible and more common, and from - that day to this avenues for reaching this stage in social progress - has ever been opening. - - But wealth merely indicates a stage of progress, since it is but a - comparative term. All men could not become rich, for in that case - all would be equally poor. But labor has a still higher goal; for, - thirdly, as capital, it constructs and employs machinery, which does - the work of many hands, and thus cheapens products, which is - equivalent in effect to an accumulation of wealth to the consumer. - And this increase of power may be used for the intellectual and - spiritual advance of men, or otherwise, at the will of the men thus - favored. Machinery places man in the position of a creator, - operating on Nature through an increased number of “secondary - causes.” - - Development of intelligence is seen, then, in the following - directions: First, in the knowledge of facts, including science; - second, in language; third, in the apprehension of beauty; and, as - consequences of the first of these, the accumulation of power by - development—First, of means of subsistence; and second, of - mechanical invention. - - Thus we have two terms to start with in estimating the beginning of - human development in knowledge and power: First, the primary - capacities of the human mind itself; second, a material world, whose - infinitely varied components are so arranged as to yield results to - the energies of that mind. For example, the transition points of - vaporization and liquefaction are so placed as to be within the - reach of man’s agents; their weights are so fixed as to accord with - the muscular or other forces which he is able to exert; and other - living organizations are subject to his convenience and rule, and - not, as in previous geological periods, entirely beyond his control. - These two terms being given, it is maintained that the present - situation of the most civilized men has been attained through the - operation of a law of mutual action and reaction—a law whose - results, seen at the present time, have depended on the acceleration - or retardation of its rate of action; which rate has been regulated, - according to the degree in which a third great term, viz., the law - of moral or (what is the same thing) true religious development has - been combined in the plan. What it is necessary to establish in - order to prove the above hypothesis is— - - I. That in each of the particulars above enumerated the development - of the human species is similar to that of the individual from - infancy to maturity. - - II. That from a condition of subserviency to the laws of matter, - man’s intelligence enables him, by an accumulation of power, to - become in a sense independent of those laws, and to increase greatly - the rate of intellectual and spiritual progress. - - III. That failure to accomplish a moral or spiritual development - will again reduce him to a subserviency to the laws of matter. - - This brings us to the subject of moral development. And here I may - be allowed to suggest that the weight of the evidence is opposed to - the philosophy, “falsely so called,” of necessitarianism, which - asserts that the first two terms alone were sufficient to work out - man’s salvation in this world and the next; and, on the other hand, - to that anti-philosophy which asserts that all things in the - progress of the human race, social and civil, are regulated by - immediate Divine interposition instead of through instrumentalities. - Hence the subject divides itself at once into two great - departments—viz., that of the development of mind or intelligence, - and that of the development of morality. - - That these laws are distinct there can be no doubt, since in the - individual man one of them may produce results without the aid of - the other. Yet it can be shown that each is the most invaluable aid - and stimulant to the other, and most favorable to the rapid advance - of the mind in either direction. - - - III. SPIRITUAL OR MORAL DEVELOPMENT. - - In examining this subject, we first inquire (Sect. _α_) whether - there is any connection between physical and moral or religious - development; then (_β_), what indications of moral development may - be derived from history. Finally (_γ_), a correlation of the results - of these inquiries, with the nature of the religious development in - the individual, is attempted. Of course in so stupendous an inquiry - but a few leading points can be presented here. - - If it be true that the period of human existence on the earth has - seen a gradually increasing predominance of higher motives over - lower ones among the mass of mankind, and if any parts of our - metaphysical being have been derived by inheritance from preëxistent - beings, we are incited to the inquiry whether any of the moral - qualities are included among the latter; and whether there be any - resemblance between moral and intellectual development. - - Thus, if there have been a physical derivation from a preëxistent - genus, and an embryonic condition of those physical characters which - distinguish Homo—if there has been also an embryonic or infantile - stage in intellectual qualities—we are led to inquire whether the - development of the individual in moral nature will furnish us with a - standard of estimation of the successive conditions or present - relations of the human species in this aspect also. - - _a. Relations of Physical and Moral Nature._ - - Although men are much alike in the deeper qualities of their nature, - there is a range of variation which is best understood by a - consideration of the extremes of such variation, as seen in men of - different latitudes, and women and children. - - (_a._) _In Children._ Youth is distinguished by a peculiarity, which - no doubt depends upon an immature condition of the nervous center - concerned, which might be called _nervous impressibility_. It is - exhibited in a greater tendency to tearfulness, in timidity, less - mental endurance, a greater facility in acquiring knowledge, and - more ready susceptibility to the influence of sights, sounds and - sensations. In both sexes the emotional nature predominates over the - intelligence and judgment. In those years the _character_ is said to - be in embryo, and theologians in using the phrase, “reaching years - of religious understanding,” mean that in early years the religious - _capacities_ undergo development coincidentally with those of the - body. - - (_b._) _In Women._ If we examine the metaphysical characteristics of - women, we observe two classes of traits—namely, those which are also - found in men, and those which are absent or but weakly developed in - men. Those of the first class are very similar in essential nature - to those which men exhibit at an early stage of development. This - may be in some way related to the fact that physical maturity occurs - earlier in women. - - The gentler sex is characterized by a greater impressibility, often - seen in the influence exercised by a stronger character, as well as - by music, color or spectacle generally; warmth of emotion, - submission to its influence rather than that of logic; timidity and - irregularity of action in the outer world. All these qualities - belong to the male sex, as a general rule, at some period of life, - though different individuals lose them at very various periods. - Ruggedness and sternness may rarely be developed in infancy, yet at - some still prior time they certainly do not exist in any. - - Probably most men can recollect some early period of their lives - when the emotional nature predominated—a time when emotion at the - sight of suffering was more easily stirred than in maturer years. I - do not now allude to the benevolence inspired, kept alive or - developed by the influence of the Christian religion on the heart, - but rather to that which belongs to the natural man. Perhaps all men - can recall a period of youth when they were hero-worshipers—when - they felt the need of a stronger arm, and loved to look up to the - powerful friend who could sympathize with and aid them. This is the - “woman stage” of character: in a large number of cases it is early - passed; in some it lasts longer; while in a very few men it persists - through life. Severe discipline and labor are unfavorable to its - persistence. Luxury preserves its bad qualities without its good, - while Christianity preserves its good elements without its bad. - - It is not designed to say that woman in her emotional nature does - not differ from the undeveloped man. On the contrary, though she - does not differ in kind, she differs greatly in degree, for her - qualities grow with her growth, and exceed in _power_ many fold - those exhibited by her companion at the original point of departure. - Hence, since it might be said that man is the undeveloped woman, a - word of explanation will be useful. Embryonic types abound in the - fields of nature, but they are not therefore immature in the usual - sense. Maintaining the lower essential quality, they yet exhibit the - usual results of growth in individual characters; that is, increase - of strength, powers of support and protection, size and beauty. In - order to maintain that the masculine character coincides with that - of the undeveloped woman, it would be necessary to show that the - latter during her infancy possesses the male characters - predominating—that is, unimpressibility, judgment, physical courage, - and the like. - - If we look at the second class of female characters—namely, those - which are imperfectly developed or absent in men, and in respect to - which man may be called undeveloped woman—we note three prominent - points: facility in language, tact or finesse, and the love of - children. The first two appear to me to be altogether developed - results of “impressibility,” already considered as an indication of - immaturity. Imagination is also a quality of impressibility, and, - associated with finesse, is apt to degenerate into duplicity and - untruthfulness. - - The third quality is different. It generally appears at a very early - period of life. Who does not know how soon the little girl selects - the doll, and the boy the toy-horse or machine? Here man truly never - gets beyond undeveloped woman. Nevertheless, “impressibility” seems - to have a great deal to do with this quality also. - - Thus the metaphysical relation of the sexes would appear to be one - of _inexact parallelism_, as defined in Sect. I. That the physical - relation is a remote one of the same kind, several characters seem - to point out. The case of the vocal organs will suffice. Their - structure is identical in both sexes in early youth, and both - produce nearly similar sounds. They remain in this condition in the - woman, while they undergo a metamorphosis and change both in - structure and vocal power in the man. In the same way, in many of - the lower creation, the females possess a majority of embryonic - features, though not invariably. A common example is to be found in - the plumage of birds, where the females and young males are often - undistinguishable.[48] But there are few points in the physical - structure of man also in which the male condition is the immature - one. In regard to structure, the point at which the relation between - the sexes is that of _exact parallelism_, or where the mature - condition of the one sex accords with the undeveloped condition of - the other, is when reproduction is no longer accomplished by budding - or gemmation, but requires distinct organs. Metaphysically, this - relation is to be found where distinct individuality of the sexes - first appears; that is, where we pass from the hermaphrodite to the - bisexual condition. - -Footnote 48: - - Meehan states that the upper limbs and strong laterals in coniferæ - and other trees produce female flowers and cones, and the lower - and more interior branches the male flowers. What he points out is - in harmony with the position here maintained—namely, that the - female characters include more of those which are embryonic in the - males, than the male characters include of those which are - embryonic in the female: the female flowers are the product of the - younger and more growing portions of the tree—that is, those last - produced (the upper limbs and new branches)—while the male flowers - are produced by the older or more mature portions—that is, lower - limbs or more axial regions. - - Meehan’s observations coincide with those of Thury and others on - the origin of sexes in animals and plants, which it appears to - admit of a similar explanation. - - But let us put the whole interpretation on this partial - undevelopment of woman. - - The types or conditions of organic life which have been the most - prominent in the world’s history—the Ganoids of the first, the - Dinosaurs of the second, and the Mammoths of the third period—have - generally died with their day. The line of succession has not been - from them. The law of anatomy and paleontology is, that we must seek - the point of departure of the type which is to predominate in the - future, at lower stages on the line, in less decided forms, or in - what, in scientific parlance, are called generalized types. In the - same way, though the adults of the tailless apes are in a physical - sense more highly developed than their young, yet the latter far - more closely resemble the human species in their large facial angle - and shortened jaws. - - How much significance, then, is added to the law uttered by - Christ!—“Except ye become as little children, ye cannot enter the - kingdom of heaven.” Submission of will, loving trust, confiding - faith—these belong to the child: how strange they appear to the - executing, commanding, reasoning man! Are they so strange to the - woman? We all know the answer. Woman is nearer to the point of - departure of that development which outlives time and peoples - heaven; and if man would find it, he must retrace his steps, regain - something he lost in youth, and join to the powers and energies of - his character the submission, love and faith which the new birth - alone can give. - - Thus the summing up of the metaphysical qualities of woman would be - thus expressed: In the emotional world, man’s superior; in the moral - world, his equal; in the laboring world, his inferior. - - There are, however, vast differences in women in respect to the - number of masculine traits they may have assumed before being - determined into their own special development. Woman also, under the - influence of necessity, in later years of life, may add more or less - to those qualities in her which are fully developed in the man. - - The relation of these facts to the principles stated as the two - opposing laws of development is, it appears to me, to be explained - thus: First, that woman’s most inherent peculiarities are _not_ the - result of the external circumstances with which she has been placed - in contact, as the _conflict theory_ would indicate. Such - circumstances are said to be her involuntary subserviency to the - physically more powerful man, and the effect of a compulsory mode of - life in preventing her from attaining a position of equality in the - activities of the world. Second, that they _are_ the result of the - different distributions of qualities as already indicated by the - _harmonic theory_ of development; that is, of the unequal possession - of features which belong to different periods in the developmental - succession of the highest. And here it might be further shown that - this relation involves no disadvantage to either sex, but that the - principle of compensation holds in moral organization and in social - order, as elsewhere. There is then another beautiful harmony which - will ever remain, let the development of each sex be extended as far - as it may. - - (_c._) _In Men._ If we look at the male sex, we shall find various - exceptional approximations to the female in mental constitution. - Further, there can be little doubt that in the Indo-European race - maturity in some respects appears earlier in tropical than in - northern regions; and though subject to many exceptions, this is - sufficiently general to be looked upon as a rule. Accordingly, we - find in that race—at least in the warmer regions of Europe and - America—a larger proportion of certain qualities which are more - universal in women; as greater activity of the emotional nature when - compared with the judgment; an impressibility of the nervous center, - which, _cæteris paribus_, appreciates quickly the harmonies of - sound, form and color; answers most quickly to the friendly greeting - or the hostile menace; is more careless of consequences in the - material expression of generosity or hatred, and more indifferent to - truth under the influence of personal relations. The movements of - the body and expressions of the countenance answer to the - temperament. More of grace and elegance in the bearing mark the - Greek, the Italian and the Creole, than the German, the Englishman - or the Green Mountain man. More of vivacity and fire, for better or - for worse, are displayed in the countenance. - - Perhaps the more northern type left all that behind in its youth. - The rugged, angular character which appreciates force better than - harmony, the strong intellect which delights in forethought and - calculation, the less impressibility, reaching stolidity in the - uneducated, are its well-known traits. If in such a character - generosity is less prompt, and there is but little chivalry, there - is persistency and unwavering fidelity, not readily interrupted by - the lightning of passion or the dark surmises of an active - imagination. - - All these peculiarities appear to result, _first_, from different - degrees of quickness and depth in appreciating impressions from - without; and, _second_, from differing degrees of attention to the - intelligent judgment in consequent action. (I leave conscience out, - as not belonging to the category of inherited qualities.) - - The first is the basis of an emotional nature, and the predominance - of the second is the usual indication of maturity. That the first is - largely dependent on an impressible condition of the nervous system - can be asserted by those who reduce their nervous centers to a - sensitive condition by a rapid consumption of the nutritive - materials necessary to the production of thought-force, and perhaps - of brain-tissue itself, induced by close and prolonged mental labor. - The condition of over-work, though but an imitation of immaturity, - without its joy-giving nutrition, is nevertheless very instructive. - The sensitiveness, both physically, emotionally and morally, is - often remarkable, and a weakening of the understanding is often - coincident with it. - - It is necessary here to introduce a caution, that the meaning of the - words high and low be not misunderstood. Great impressibility is an - essential constituent of many of the highest forms of genius, and - the combination of this quality with strong reflective intelligence, - constitutes the most complete and efficient type of mind—therefore - the highest in the common sense. It is not, however, the highest—or - extremest—in an evolutional sense, it is not masculine, but - hermaphrodite; in other words, its _kinetic_ force exceeds its - _bathmic_.[49] It is therefore certain that a partial diminution of - bathmic vigor is an advantage to some kinds of intellect. - -Footnote 49: - - _Bathmic force_ is analogous to the _potential_ force of chemists, - but is no doubt entirely different in its nature. It is converted - into active energy or _kinetic_ force only during the years of - growth: it is in large amount in _acceleration_, in small amount - in _retardation_. - - The above observations have been confined to the Indo-European race. - It may be objected to the theory that savagery means immaturity in - the senses above described, as dependent largely on - “impressibility,” while savages in general display the least - “impressibility,” as that word is generally understood. This cannot - be asserted of the Africans, who, so far as we know them, possess - this peculiarity in a high degree. Moreover, it must be remembered - that the state of indifference which precedes that of impressibility - in the individual may characterize many savages; while their varied - peculiarities may be largely accounted for by recollecting that many - combinations of different species of emotions and kinds of - intelligence go to make up the complete result in each case. - - (_d._) _Conclusions._ Three types of religion may be selected from - the developmental conditions of man: first, an absence of - sensibility (early infancy); second, an emotional stage more - productive of faith than of works; thirdly, an intellectual type, - more favorable to works than to faith. Though in regard to - responsibility these states may be equal, there is absolutely no - gain to laboring humanity from the first type, and a serious loss in - actual results from the second, taken alone, as compared with the - third. - - These, then, are the _physical vehicles of religion_—the “_earthen - vessels_” of Paul—which give character and tone to the deeper - spiritual life, as the color of the transparent vessel is - communicated to the light which radiates from within. - - But if evolution has taken place, there is evidently a provision for - the progress from the lower to the higher states, either in the - education of circumstances (“conflict,”) or in the power of an - interior spiritual influence “harmony,”) or both. - - _β. Evidence Derived from History._ - - We trace the development of Morality in—First, the family or social - order; second, the civil order, or government. - - Whatever may have been the extent of moral ignorance before the - Deluge, it does not appear that the earth was yet prepared for the - permanent habitation of the human race. All nations preserve - traditions of the drowning of the early peoples by floods, such as - have occurred frequently during geologic time. At the close of each - period of dry land, a period of submergence has set in, and the - depression of the level of the earth, and consequent overflow by the - sea, has caused the death and subsequent preservation of the remains - of the fauna and flora living upon it, while the elevation of the - same has produced that interruption in the process of deposit in the - same region which marks the intervals between geologic periods. - Change in these respects do not occur to any very material extent at - the present time in the regions inhabited by the most highly - developed portions of the human race; and as the last which occurred - seems to have been expressly designed for the preparation of the - earth’s surface for the occupation of organized human society, it - may be doubted whether many such changes are to be looked for in the - future. The last great flooding was that which stratified the drift - materials of the north, and carried the finer portions far over the - south, determining the minor topography of the surface and supplying - it with soils. - - The existence of floods which drowned many races of men may be - considered as established. The men destroyed by the one recorded by - Moses are described by him as exceedingly wicked, so that “the earth - was filled with violence.” In his eyes the Flood was designed for - their extermination. - - That their condition was evil must be fully believed if they were - condemned by the executive of the Jewish law. This law, it will be - remembered, permitted polygamy, slavery, revenge, aggressive war. - The Jews were expected to rob their neighbors the Egyptians of - jewels, and they were allowed “an eye for an eye and a tooth for a - tooth.” They were expected to butcher other nations, with their - women and children, their flocks and their herds. If we look at the - lives of men recorded in the Old Testament as examples of - distinguished excellence, we find that their standard, however - superior to that of the people around them, would ill accord with - the morality of the present day. They were all polygamists, - slaveholders and warriors. Abraham treated Hagar and Ishmael with - inhumanity. Jacob, with his mother’s aid, deceived Isaac, and - received thereby a blessing which extended to the whole Jewish - nation. David, a man whom Paul tells us the Lord found to be after - his own heart, slew the messenger who brought tidings of the death - of Saul, and committed other acts which would stain the reputation - of a Christian beyond redemption. It is scarcely necessary to turn - to other nations if this be true of the chosen men of a chosen - people. History indeed presents us with no people prior to, or - contemporary with, the Jews who were not morally their inferiors. - - If we turn to more modern periods, an examination of the morality of - Greece and Rome reveals a curious intermixture of lower and higher - moral conditions. While each of these nations produced excellent - moralists, the influence of their teachings was not sufficient to - elevate the masses above what would now be regarded as a very low - standard. The popularity of those scenes of cruelty, the - gladiatorial shows and the combats with wild beasts, sufficiently - attests this. The Roman virtue of patriotism, while productive of - many noble deeds, is in itself far from being a disinterested one, - but partakes rather of the nature of partisanship and selfishness. - If the Greeks were superior to the Romans in humanity, they were - apparently their inferiors in the social virtues, and were much - below the standard of Christian nations in both respects. - - Ancient history points to a state of chronic war, in which the - social relations were in confusion, and the development of the - useful arts was almost impossible. Savage races, which continue to - this day in a similar moral condition, are, we may easily believe, - most unhappy. They are generally divided into tribes, which are - mutually hostile, or friendly only with the view of injuring some - other tribe. Might is their law, and robbery, rapine and murder - express their mutual relations. This is the history of the lowest - grade of barbarism, and the history of primeval man so far as it has - come down to us in sacred and profane records. Man as a species - first appears in history as a sinful being. Then a race maintaining - a contest with the prevailing corruption and exhibiting a higher - moral ideal is presented to us in Jewish history. Finally, early - Christian society exhibits a greatly superior condition of things. - In it polygamy scarcely existed, and slavery and war were condemned. - But progress did not end here, for our Lord said, “I have yet many - things to say unto you, _but ye cannot bear them now_. Howbeit, when - He, the spirit of truth, is come, He will guide you into all truth.” - - The progress revealed to us by history is truly great, and if a - similar difference existed between the first of the human species - and the first of whose condition we have information, we can - conceive how low the origin must have been. History begins with a - considerable progress in civilization, and from this we must infer a - long preceding period of human existence, such as a gradual - evolution would require. - - γ. Rationale of Moral Development. - - I. _Of the Species._ Let us now look at the moral condition of the - infant man of the present time. We know his small accountability, - his trust, his innocence. We know that he is free from the law that - when he “would do good, evil is present with him,” for good and evil - are alike unknown. We know that until growth has progressed to a - certain degree he fully deserves the praise pronounced by Our - Saviour, that “of such is the kingdom of heaven.” Growth, however, - generally sees a change. We know that the buddings of evil appear - but too soon: the lapse of a few months sees exhibitions of anger, - disobedience, malice, falsehood, and their attendants—the fruit of a - corruption within not manifested before. - - In early youth it may be said that moral susceptibility is often in - inverse ratio to physical vigor. But with growth the more physically - vigorous are often sooner taught the lessons of life, for their - energy brings them into earlier conflict with the antagonisms and - contradictions of the world. Here is a beautiful example of the - benevolent principle of compensation. - - 1. _Innocence and the Fall._ If physical evolution be a reality, we - have reason to believe that the infantile stage of human morals, as - well as of human intellect, was much prolonged in the history of our - first parents. This constitutes the period of human purity, when we - are told by Moses that the first pair dwelt in Eden. But the growth - to maturity saw the development of all the qualities inherited from - the irresponsible denizen of the forest. Man inherits from his - predecessors in the creation the buddings of reason: he inherits - passions, propensities and appetites. His corruption is that of his - animal progenitors, and his sin is the low and bestial instinct of - the brute creation. Thus only is the origin of sin made clear—a - problem which the pride of man would have explained in any other way - had it been possible. - - But how startling the exhibition of evil by this new being as - compared with the scenes of the countless ages already past! Then - the right of the strongest was God’s law, and rapine and destruction - were the history of life. But into man had been “breathed the breath - of life,” and he had “become a living soul.” The law of right, the - Divine Spirit, was planted within him, and the laws of the beast - were in antagonism to that law. The natural development of his - inherited qualities necessarily brought him into collision with that - higher standard planted within him, and that war was commenced which - shall never cease “till He hath put all things under His feet.” The - first act of man’s disobedience constituted the Fall, and with it - would come the first _intellectual_ “knowledge of good and of - evil”—an apprehension up to that time derived exclusively from the - divinity within, or conscience.[50] - -Footnote 50: - - In our present translation of Genesis, the Fall is ascribed to the - influence of Satan assuming the form of the serpent, and this - animal was cursed in consequence, and compelled to assume a prone - position. This rendering may well be revised, since serpents, - prone like others, existed in both America and Europe during the - Eocene epoch, five times as great a period before Adam as has - elapsed since his day. Clark states, with great probability, that - “serpent” should be translated monkey or ape—a conclusion, it will - be observed, exactly coinciding with our inductions on the basis - of evolution. The instigation to evil by an ape merely states - inheritance in another form. His curse, then, refers to the - retention of the horizontal position by all other quadrumana, as - we find it at the present day. - - 2. _Free Agency._ Heretofore development had been that of physical - types, but the Lord had rested on the seventh day, for man closed - the line of the physical creation. Now a new development was to - begin—the development of mind, of morality and of grace. - - On the previous days of Creation all had progressed in accordance - with inevitable law apart from its objects. Now two lines of - development were at the disposal of this being, between which his - _free will_ was to choose. Did he choose the courses dictated by the - spirit of the brute, he was to be subject to the old law of the - brute creation—the right of the strongest and spiritual death. Did - he choose the guidance of the Divine Guest in his heart, he became - subject to the laws which are to guide—I. the human species to an - ultimate perfection, so far as consistent with this world; and II. - the individual man to a higher life, where a new existence awaits - him as a spiritual being, freed from the laws of terrestrial matter. - - The charge brought against the theory of development, that it - implies a necessary progress of man to all perfection without his - coöperation—or _necessitarianism_, as it is called—is unfounded. - - The free will of man remains the source alike of his progress and - his relapse. But the choice once made, the laws of spiritual - development are apparently as inevitable as those of matter. Thus - men whose religious capacities are increased by attention to the - Divine Monitor within are in the advance of progress—progress - coinciding with that which in material things is called the - _harmonic_. On the other hand, those whose motives are of the lower - origin fall under the working of the law of _conflict_. - - The lesson derivable from the preceding considerations would seem to - be “necessitarian” as respects the whole human race, considered by - itself; and I believe it is to be truly so interpreted. That is, the - Creator of all things has set agencies at work which will slowly - develop a perfect humanity out of His lower creation, and nothing - can thwart the process or alter the result. “My word shall not - return unto Me void, but it shall accomplish that which I please, - and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it.” This is our - great encouragement, our noblest hope—second only to that which - looks to a blessed inheritance in another world. It is this thought - that should inspire the farmer, who as he toils wonders, “Why all - this labor? The Good Father could have made me like the lilies, who, - though they toil not, neither spin, are yet clothed in glory; and - why should I, a nobler being, be subject to the dust and the sweat - of labor?” This thought should enlighten every artisan of the - thousands that people the factories and guide their whirling - machinery in our modern cities. Every revolution of a wheel is - moving the car of progress, and the timed stroke of the crank and - the rhythmic throw of the shuttle are but the music the spheres have - sung since time began. A new significance then appears in the prayer - of David: “Let the beauty of the Lord our God be upon us, and - establish Thou the work of our hands upon us: the work of our hands, - O Lord, establish Thou it.” But beware of the catastrophe, for “He - will sit as a refiner:” “the wheat shall be gathered into barns, but - the chaff shall be burned with unquenchable fire.” If this be true, - let us look for— - - 3. _The Extinction of Evil._ How is necessitarianism to be - reconciled with free will? It appears to me, thus: When a being - whose safety depends on the perfection of a system of laws abandons - the system by which he lives, he becomes subject to that lower grade - of laws which govern lower intelligences. Man, falling from the laws - of right, comes under the dominion of the laws of brute force; as - said our Saviour: “Salt is good, but if the salt have lost his - savor, it is thenceforth good for nothing but to be cast forth and - trodden under foot of men.” - - Evil, being unsatisfying to the human heart, is in its nature ever - progressive, whether in the individual or the nation; and in - estimating the practical results to man of the actions prompted by - the lower portion of our nature, it is only necessary to carry out - to its full development each of those animal qualities which may in - certain states of society be restrained by the social system. In - human history those qualities have repeatedly had this development, - and the battle of progress is fought to decide whether they shall - overthrow the system that restrains them, or be overthrown by it. - - Entire obedience to the lower instincts of our nature ensures - destruction to the weaker, and generally to the stronger also. A - most marked case of this kind is seen where the developed vices of - civilization are introduced among a savage people—as, for example, - the North American Indians. These seem in consequence to be - hastening to extinction. - - But a system or a circuit of existence has been allotted to the - civil associations of the animal species man, independently of his - moral development. It may be briefly stated thus: Races begin as - poor offshoots or emigrants from a parent stock. The law of labor - develops their powers, and increases their wealth and numbers. These - will be diminished by their various vices; but on the whole, in - proportion as the intellectual and economical elements prevail, - wealth will increase; that is, they accumulate power. When this has - been accomplished, and before activity has slackened its speed, the - nation has reached the culminating point, and then it enters upon - the period of decline. The restraints imposed by economy and active - occupation being removed, the beastly traits find in accumulated - power only increased means of gratification, and industry and - prosperity sink together. Power is squandered, little is - accumulated, and the nation goes down to its extinction amid scenes - of internal strife and vice. Its cycle is soon fulfilled, and other - nations, fresh from scenes of labor, assault it, absorb its - fragments, and it dies. This has been the world’s history, and it - remains to be seen whether the virtues of the nations now existing - will be sufficient to save them from a like fate. - - Thus the history of the animal man in nations is wonderfully like - that of the type or families of the animal and vegetable kingdoms - during geologic ages. They rise, they increase and reach a period of - multiplication and power. The force allotted to them becoming - exhausted, they diminish and sink and die. - - II. _Of the Individual._ In discussing physical development, we are - as yet compelled to restrict ourselves to the evidence of its - existence and some laws observed in the operation of its causative - force. What that force is, or what are its primary laws, we know - not. - - So in the progress of moral development we endeavor to prove its - existence and the mode of its operation, but why that mode should - exist, rather than some other mode, we cannot explain. - - The moral progress of the species depends, of course, on the moral - progress of the individuals embraced in it. Religion is the sum of - those influences which determine the motives of men’s actions into - harmony with the Divine perfection and the Divine will. Obedience to - these influences constitutes the practice of religion, while the - statement of the growth and operation of these influences - constitutes the theory of religion, or doctrine. - - The Divine Spirit planted in man shows him that which is in harmony - with the Divine Mind, and it remains for his free will to conform to - it or reject it. This harmony is man’s highest ideal of happiness, - and in seeking it, as well as in desiring to flee from dissonance or - pain, he but obeys the disposition common to all conscious beings. - If, however, he attempts to conform to it, he will find the law of - evil present, and frequently obtaining the mastery. If now he be in - any degree observing, he will find that the laws of morality and - right are the only ones by which human society exists in a condition - superior to that of the lower animals, and in which the capacities - of man for happiness can approach a state of satisfaction. He may be - then said to be “awakened” to the importance of religion. If he - carry on the struggle to attain to the high goal presented to his - spiritual vision, he will be deeply grieved and humbled at his - failures: then he is said to be “convicted.” Under these - circumstances the necessity of a deliverance becomes clear, and is - willingly accepted in the only way in which it has pleased the - Author of all to present it, which has been epitomized by Paul as - “the washing of regeneration and renewal of the Holy Spirit through - Jesus Christ.” Thus a life of advanced and ever-advancing moral - excellence becomes possible, and the man makes nearer approaches to - the “image of God.” - - Thus is opened a new era in spiritual development, which we are led - to believe leads to an ultimate condition in which the nature - inherited from our origin is entirely overcome, and an existence of - moral perfection entered on. Thus in the book of Mark the simile - occurs: “First the blade, then the ear, after that the full corn in - the ear;” and Solomon says that the development of righteousness - “shines more and more unto the perfect day.” - - δ. Summary. - - If it be true that general development in morality proceeds in spite - of the original predominance of evil in the world, through the - self-destructive nature of the latter, it is only necessary to - examine the reasons why the excellence of the good may have been - subject also to progress, and how the remainder of the race may have - been influenced thereby. - - The development of morality is then probably to be understood in the - following sense: Since the Divine Spirit, as the prime force in - moral progress, cannot in itself be supposed to have been in any way - under the influence of natural laws, its capacities were no doubt as - eternal and unerring in the first man as in the last. But the facts - and probabilities discussed above point to development of _religious - sensibility_, or capacity to appreciate moral good, or to receive - impressions from the source of good. - - The evidence of this is supposed to be seen in—_First_, improvement - in man’s views of his duty to his neighbor; and _Second_, the - substitution of spiritual for symbolic religions: in other words, - improvement in the capacity for receiving spiritual impressions. - - What the primary cause of this supposed development of religious - sensibility may have been, is a question we reverently leave - untouched. That it is intimately connected in some way with, and in - part dependent on, the evolution of the intelligence, appears very - probable: for this evolution is seen—_First_, in a better - understanding of the consequences of action, and of good and of evil - in many things; and _Second_, in the production of means for the - spread of the special instrumentalities of good. The following may - be enumerated as such instrumentalities: - - 1. Furnishing literary means of record and distribution of the - truths of religion, morality and science. - - 2. Creating and increasing modes of transportation of teachers and - literary means of disseminating truth. - - 3. Facilitating the migration and the spread of nations holding the - highest position in the scale of morality. - - 4. The increase of wealth, which multiplies the extent of the - preceding means. - - And now, let no man attempt to set bounds to this development. Let - no man say even that morality accomplished is all that is required - of mankind, since that is not necessarily the evidence of a - spiritual development. If a man possess the capacity for progress - beyond the condition in which he finds himself, in refusing to enter - upon it he declines to conform to the Divine law. And “from those to - whom little is given, little is required, but from those to whom - much is given, much shall be required.” - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - _SCIENTIFIC ADDRESSES._ - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - TYNDALL’S ADDRESSES. - - - I. - - _On the Methods and Tendencies of Physical Investigation._ - - The celebrated Fichte, in his lectures on the “Vocation of the - Scholar,” insisted on a culture for the scholar which should not be - one-sided, but all-sided. His intellectual nature was to expand - spherically, and not in a single direction. In one direction, - however, Fichte required that the scholar should apply himself - directly to nature, become a creator of knowledge, and thus repay, - by original labors of his own, the immense debt he owed to the - labors of others. It was these which enabled him to supplement the - knowledge derived from his own researches, so as to render his - culture rounded, and not one-sided. - - Fichte’s idea is to some extent illustrated by the constitution and - the labors of the British Association. We have here a body of men - engaged in the pursuit of natural knowledge, but variously engaged. - While sympathizing with each of its departments, and supplementing - his culture by knowledge drawn from all of them, each student - amongst us selects one subject for the exercise of his own original - faculty—one line along which he may carry the light of his private - intelligence a little way into the darkness by which all knowledge - is surrounded. Thus, the geologist faces the rocks; the biologist - fronts the conditions and phenomena of life; the astronomer, stellar - masses and motions; the mathematician the properties of space and - number; the chemist pursues his atoms, while the physical - investigator has his own large field in optical, thermal, - electrical, acoustical, and other phenomena. The British - Association, then, faces nature on all sides, and pushes knowledge - centrifugally outwards, while, through circumstance or natural bent, - each of its working members takes up a certain line of research in - which he aspires to be an original producer, being content in all - other directions to accept instruction from his fellow-men. The sum - of our labors constitutes what Fichte might call the sphere of - natural knowledge. In the meetings of the Association it is found - necessary to resolve this sphere into its component parts, which - take concrete form under the respective letters of our sections. - - This section (A) is called the Mathematical and Physical section. - Mathematics and Physics have been long accustomed to coalesce, and - hence this grouping. For while mathematics, as a product of the - human mind, is self-sustaining and nobly self-rewarding,—while the - pure mathematician may never trouble his mind with considerations - regarding the phenomena of the material universe, still the form of - reasoning which he employs, the power which the organization of that - reasoning confers, the applicability of his abstract conceptions to - actual phenomena, render his science one of the most potent - instruments in the solution of natural problems. Indeed, without - mathematics, expressed or implied, our knowledge of physical science - would be friable in the extreme. - - Side by side with the mathematical method, we have the method of - experiment. Here, from a starting-point furnished by his own - researches or those of others, the investigator proceeds by - combining intuition and verification. He ponders the knowledge he - possesses and tries to push it further, he guesses and checks his - guess, he conjectures and confirms or explodes his conjecture. These - guesses and conjectures are by no means leaps in the dark; for - knowledge once gained casts a faint light beyond its own immediate - boundaries. There is no discovery so limited as not to illuminate - something beyond itself. The force of intellectual penetration into - this penumbral region which surrounds actual knowledge is not - dependent upon method, but is proportional to the genius of the - investigator. There is, however, no genius so gifted as not to need - control and verification. The profoundest minds know best that - nature’s ways are not at all times their ways, and that the - brightest flashes in the world of thought are incomplete until they - have been proved to have their counterparts in the world of fact. - The vocation of the true experimentalist is the incessant correction - and realization of his insight; his experiments finally constituting - a body, of which his purified intuitions are, as it were, the soul. - - Partly through mathematical, and partly through experimental - research, physical science has of late years assumed a momentous - position in the world. Both in a material and in an intellectual - point of view it has produced, and it is destined to produce, - immense changes, vast social ameliorations, and vast alterations in - the popular conception of the origin, rule, and governance of - things. Miracles are wrought by science in the physical world, while - philosophy is forsaking its ancient metaphysical channels, and - pursuing those opened or indicated by scientific research. This must - become more and more the case as philosophic writers become more - deeply imbued with the methods of science, better acquainted with - the facts which scientific men have won, and with the great theories - which they have elaborated. - - If you look at the face of a watch, you see the hour and - minute-hands, and possibly also a second-hand, moving over the - graduated dial. Why do these hands move, and why are their relative - motions such as they are observed to be? These questions cannot be - answered without opening the watch, mastering its various parts, and - ascertaining their relationship to each other. When this is done, we - find that the observed motion of the hands follows of necessity from - the inner mechanism of the watch when acted upon by the force - invested in the spring. - - This motion of the hands may be called a phenomenon of art, but the - case is similar with the phenomena of Nature. These also have their - inner mechanism, and their store of force to set that mechanism - going. The ultimate problem of physical science is to reveal this - mechanism, to discern this store, and to show that from the combined - action of both, the phenomena of which they constitute the basis - must of necessity flow. - - I thought that an attempt to give you even a brief and sketchy - illustration of the manner in which scientific thinkers regard this - problem would not be uninteresting to you on the present occasion; - more especially as it will give me occasion to say a word or two on - the tendencies and limits of modern science, to point out the region - which men of science claim as their own, and where it is mere waste - of time to oppose their advance, and also to define, if possible, - the bourne between this and that other region to which the - questionings and yearnings of the scientific intellect are directed - in vain. - - But here your tolerance will be needed. It was the American Emerson, - I think, who said that it is hardly possible to state any truth - strongly without apparent injury to some other truth. Under the - circumstances, the proper course appears to be to state both truths - strongly, and allow each its fair share, in the formation of the - resultant conviction. For truth is often of a dual character, taking - the form of a magnet with two poles; and many of the differences - which agitate the thinking part of mankind are to be traced to the - exclusiveness with which different parties affirm one half of the - duality in forgetfulness of the other half. But this waiting for the - statement of the two sides of a question implies patience. It - implies a resolution to suppress indignation if the statement of the - one half should clash with our convictions, and not to suffer - ourselves to be unduly elated if the half-statement should chime in - with our views. It implies a determination to wait calmly for the - statement of the whole before we pronounce judgment either in the - form of acquiescence or dissent. - - This premised, let us enter upon our task. There have been writers - who affirmed that the pyramids of Egypt were the productions of - nature; and in his early youth Alexander Von Humboldt wrote an essay - with the express object of refuting this notion. We now regard the - pyramids as the work of men’s hands, aided probably by machinery of - which no record remains. We picture to ourselves the swarming - workers toiling at those vast erections, lifting the inert stones, - and, guided by the volition, the skill, and possibly at times by the - whip of the architect, placing the stones in their proper positions. - The blocks in this case were moved by a power external to - themselves, and the final form of the pyramid expressed the thought - of its human builder. - - Let us pass from this illustration of building power to another of a - different kind. When a solution of common salt is slowly evaporated, - the water which holds the salt in solution disappears, but the salt - itself remains behind. At a certain stage of concentration, the salt - can no longer retain the liquid form; its particles, or molecules, - as they are called, begin to deposit themselves as minute solids, so - minute, indeed, as to defy all microscopic power. As evaporation - continues solidification goes on, and we finally obtain, through the - clustering together of innumerable molecules, a finite mass of salt - of a definite form. What is this form? It sometimes seems a mimicry - of the architecture of Egypt. We have little pyramids built by the - salt, terrace above terrace from base to apex, forming thus a series - of steps resembling those up which the Egyptian traveler is dragged - by his guides. The human mind is as little disposed to look at these - pyramidal salt-crystals without further question as to look at the - pyramids of Egypt without inquiring whence they came. How, then, are - those salt pyramids built up? - - Guided by analogy, you may suppose that, swarming among the - constituent molecules of the salt, there is an invisible population, - guided and coerced by some invisible master, and placing the atomic - blocks in their positions. This, however, is not the scientific - idea, nor do I think your good sense will accept it as a likely one. - The scientific idea is that the molecules act upon each other - without the intervention of slave labor; that they attract each - other and repel each other at certain definite points, and in - certain definite directions; and that the pyramidal form is the - result of this play of attraction and repulsion. While, then, the - blocks of Egypt were laid down by a power external to themselves, - these molecular blocks of salt are self-posited, being fixed in - their places by the forces with which they act upon each other. - - I take common salt as an illustration, because it is so familiar to - us all; but almost any other substance would answer my purpose - equally well. In fact, throughout inorganic nature, we have this - formative power, as Fichte would call it—this structural energy - ready to come into play, and build the ultimate particles of matter - into definite shapes. It is present everywhere. The ice of our - winters and of our polar regions is its hand-work, and so equally - are the quartz, feldspar, and mica of our rocks. Our chalk-beds are - for the most part composed of minute shells, which are also the - product of structural energy; but behind the shell, as a whole, lies - the result of another and more subtle formative act. These shells - are built up of little crystals of calc-spar, and to form these the - structural force had to deal with the intangible molecules of - carbonate of lime. This tendency on the part of matter to organize - itself, to grow into shape, to assume definite forms in obedience to - the definite action of force, is, as I have said, all-pervading. It - is in the ground on which you tread, in the water you drink, in the - air you breathe. Incipient life, in fact, manifests itself - throughout the whole of what we call inorganic nature. - - The forms of minerals resulting from this play of forces are - various, and exhibit different degrees of complexity. Men of science - avail themselves of all possible means of exploring this molecular - architecture. For this purpose they employ in turn as agents of - exploration, light, heat, magnetism, electricity, and sound. - Polarized light is especially useful and powerful here. A beam of - such light, when sent in among the molecules of a crystal, is acted - on by them, and from this action we infer with more or less of - clearness the manner in which the molecules are arranged. The - difference, for example, between the inner structure of a plate of - rock-salt and a plate of crystalized sugar or sugar-candy is thus - strikingly revealed. These differences may be made to display - themselves in phenomena of color of great splendor, the play of - molecular force being so regulated as to remove certain of the - colored constituents of white light, and to leave others with - increased intensity behind. - - And now let us pass from what we are accustomed to regard as a dead - mineral to a living grain of corn. When it is examined by polarized - light, chromatic phenomena similar to those noticed in crystals are - observed. And why? Because the architecture of the grain resembles - in some degree the architecture of the crystal. In the corn the - molecules are also set in definite positions, from which they act - upon the light. But what has built together the molecules of the - corn? I have already said, regarding crystalline architecture, that - you may, if you please, consider the atoms and molecules to be - placed in position by a power external to themselves. The same - hypothesis is open to you now. But, if in the case of crystals you - have rejected this notion of an external architect, I think you are - bound to reject it now, and to conclude that the molecules of the - corn are self-posited by the forces with which they act upon each - other. It would be poor philosophy to invoke an external agent in - the one case and to reject it in the other. - - Instead of cutting our grain into thin slices and subjecting it to - the action of polarized light, let us place it in the earth and - subject it to a certain degree of warmth. In other words, let the - molecules, both of the corn and of the surrounding earth, be kept in - a state of agitation; for warmth, as most of you know, is, in the - eye of science, tremulous molecular motion. Under these - circumstances, the grain and the substances which surround it - interact, and a molecular architecture is the result of this - interaction. A bud is formed; this bud reaches the surface, where it - is exposed to the sun’s rays, which are also to be regarded as a - kind of vibratory motion. And as the common motion of heat with - which the grain and the substances surrounding it were first - endowed, enable the grain and these substances to coalesce, so the - specific motion of the sun’s rays now enables the green bud to feed - upon the carbonic acid and the aqueous vapor of the air, - appropriating those constituents of both for which the blade has an - elective attraction, and permitting the other constituent to resume - its place in the air. Thus forces are active at the root, forces are - active in the blade, the matter of the earth and the matter of the - atmosphere are drawn towards the plant, and the plant augments in - size. We have in succession, the bud, the stalk, the ear, the full - corn in the ear. For the forces here at play act in a cycle, which - is completed by the production of grains similar to that with which - the process began. - - Now there is nothing in this process which necessarily eludes the - power of mind as we know it. An intellect the same kind as our own, - would, if only sufficiently expanded, be able to follow the whole - process from beginning to end. No entirely new intellectual faculty - would be needed for this purpose. The duly expanded mind would see - in the process and its consummation an instance of the play of - molecular force. It would see every molecule placed in its position - by the specific attractions and repulsions exerted between it and - other molecules. Nay, given the grain and its environment, an - intellect the same in kind as our own, but sufficiently expanded, - might trace out _à priori_ every step of the process, and by the - application of mechanical principles would be able to demonstrate - that the cycle of actions must end, as it is seen to end, in the - reproduction of forms like that with which the operation began. A - similar necessity rules here to that which rules the planets in - their circuits round the sun. - - You will notice that I am stating my truth strongly, as at the - beginning we agreed it should be stated. But I must go still - further, and affirm that in the eye of science the animal body is - just as much the product of molecular force as the stalk and ear of - corn, or as the crystal of salt or sugar. Many of its parts are - obviously mechanical. Take the human heart, for example, with its - exquisite system of valves, or take the eye or the hand. Animal - heat, moreover, is the same in kind as the heat of a fire, being - produced by the same chemical process. Animal motion, too, is as - directly derived from the food of the animal, as the motion of - Trevethyck’s walking-engine from the fuel in its furnace. As regards - matter, the animal body creates nothing; as regards force, it - creates nothing. Which of you by taking thought can add one cubit to - his stature? All that has been said regarding the plant may be - re-stated with regard to the animal. Every particle that enters into - the composition of the muscle, a nerve, or a bone, has been placed - in its position by molecular force. And unless the existence of law - in these matters be denied, and the element of caprice be - introduced, we must conclude that, given the relation of any - molecule of the body to its environment, its position in the body - might be predicted. Our difficulty is not with the quality of the - problem, but with its complexity; and this difficulty might be met - by the simple expansion of the faculties which man now possesses. - Given this expansion, and given the necessary molecular data, and - the chick might be deduced as rigorously and as logically from the - egg as the existence of Neptune was deduced from the disturbances of - Uranus, or as conical refraction was deduced from the undulatory - theory of light. - - You see I am not mincing matters, but avowing nakedly what many - scientific thinkers more or less distinctly believe. The formation - of a crystal, a plant, or an animal, is in their eyes a purely - mechanical problem, which differs from the problems of ordinary - mechanics in the smallness of the masses and the complexity of the - processes involved. Here you have one half of our dual truth; let us - now glance at the other half. Associated with this wonderful - mechanism of the animal body we have phenomena no less certain than - those of physics, but between which and the mechanism we discern no - necessary connection. A man, for example, can say I feel, I think, I - love; but how does consciousness infuse itself into the problem? The - human brain is said to be the organ of thought and feeling; when we - are hurt the brain feels it, when we ponder it is the brain that - thinks, when our passions or affections are excited it is through - the instrumentality of the brain. Let us endeavor to be a little - more precise here. I hardly imagine that any profound scientific - thinker who has reflected upon the subject exists, who would not - admit the extreme probability of the hypothesis, that for every fact - of consciousness, whether in the domain of sense, of thought, or of - emotion, a certain definite molecular condition is set up in the - brain; that this relation of physics to consciousness is invariable, - so that, given the state of the brain, the corresponding thought or - feeling might be inferred; or, given the thought or feeling, the - corresponding state of the brain might be inferred. But how - inferred? It is at bottom not a case of logical inference at all, - but of empirical association. You may reply that many of the - inferences of science are of this character; the inference, for - example, that an electric current of a given direction will deflect - a magnetic needle in a definite way; but the cases differ in this, - that the passage from the current to the needle, if not - demonstrable, is thinkable, and that we entertain no doubt as to the - final mechanical solution of the problem; but the passage from the - physics of the brain to the corresponding facts of consciousness is - unthinkable. Granted that a definite thought and a definite - molecular action in the brain occur simultaneously, we do not - possess the intellectual organ, nor, apparently, any rudiment of the - organ, which would enable us to pass by a process of reasoning from - the one phenomenon to the other. They appear together, but we do not - know why. Were our minds and senses so expanded, strengthened, and - illuminated as to enable us to see and feel the very molecules of - the brain; were we capable of following all their motions, all their - groupings, all their electric discharges, if such there be; and were - we intimately acquainted with the corresponding states of thought - and feeling, we should be as far as ever from the solution of the - problem. “How are these physical processes connected with the facts - of consciousness?” The chasm between the two classes of phenomena - would still remain intellectually impassable. Let the consciousness - of love, for example, be associated with a right-handed spiral - motion of the molecules of the brain, and the consciousness of hate - with a left-handed spiral motion. We should then know when we love - that the motion is in one direction, and when we hate that the - motion is in the other; but the “WHY?” would still remain - unanswered. - - In affirming that the growth of the body is mechanical, and that - thought, as exercised by us, has its correlative in the physics of - the brain, I think the position of the “Materialist” is stated as - far as that position is a tenable one. I think the materialist will - be able finally to maintain this position against all attacks; but I - do not think, as the human mind is at present constituted, that he - can pass beyond it. I do not think he is entitled to say that his - molecular groupings and his molecular motions explain everything. In - reality they explain nothing. The utmost he can affirm is the - association of two classes of phenomena of whose real bond of union - he is in absolute ignorance. The problem of the connection of the - body and soul is as insoluble in its modern form as it was in the - pre-scientific ages. Phosphorus is known to enter into the - composition of the human brain, and a courageous writer has - exclaimed, in his trenchant German, “Ohne phosphor kein gedanke.” - That may or may not be the case; but even if we knew it to be the - case, the knowledge would not lighten our darkness. On both sides of - the zone here assigned to the materialist he is equally helpless. If - you ask him whence is this “matter” of which we have been - discoursing, who or what divided it into molecules, who or what - impressed upon them this necessity of running into organic forms, he - has no answer. Science also is mute in reply to these questions. But - if the materialist is confounded, and science rendered dumb, who - else is entitled to answer? To whom has the secret been revealed? - Let us lower our heads and acknowledge our ignorance, one and all. - Perhaps the mystery may resolve itself into knowledge at some future - day. The process of things upon this earth has been one of - amelioration. It is a long way from the Iguanodon and his - contemporaries to the president and members of the British - Association. And whether we regard the improvement from the - scientific or from the theological point of view as the result of - progressive development, or as the result of successive exhibitions - of creative energy, neither view entitles us to assume that man’s - present faculties end the series—that the process of amelioration - stops at him. A time may therefore come when this ultra-scientific - region by which we are now enfolded may offer itself to terrestrial, - if not to human investigation. Two-thirds of the rays emitted by the - sun fail to arouse in the eye the sense of vision. The rays exist, - but the visual organ requisite for their translation into light does - not exist. And so from this region of darkness and mystery which - surrounds us, rays may now be darting which require but the - development of the proper intellectual organs to translate them into - knowledge as far surpassing ours as ours does that of the wallowing - reptiles which once held possession of this planet. Meanwhile the - mystery is not without its uses. It certainly may be made a power in - the human soul; but it is a power which has feeling, not knowledge, - for its base. It may be, and will be, and we hope is turned to - account, both in steadying and strengthening the intellect, and in - rescuing man from that littleness to which, in the struggle for - existence or for precedence in the world, he is continually prone. - - II. - - On Haze and Dust. - - Solar light in passing through a dark room reveals its track by - illuminating the dust floating in the air. “The sun,” says Daniel - Culverwell, “discovers atomes, though they be invisible by - candle-light, and makes them dance naked in his beams.” - - In my researches on the decomposition of vapors by light, I was - compelled to remove these “atomes” and this dust. It was essential - that the space containing the vapors should embrace no visible - thing; that no substance capable of scattering the light in the - slightest sensible degree should, at the outset of an experiment, be - found in the “experimental tube” traversed by the luminous beam. - - For a long time I was troubled by the appearance there of floating - dust, which, though invisible in diffuse daylight, was at once - revealed by a powerfully condensed beam. Two tubes were placed in - succession in the path of the dust: the one containing fragments of - glass wetted with concentrated sulphuric acid; the other, fragments - of marble wetted with a strong solution of caustic potash. To my - astonishment it passed through both. The air of the Royal - Institution, sent through these tubes at a rate sufficiently slow to - dry it and to remove its carbonic acid, carried into the - experimental tube a considerable amount of mechanically-suspended - matter, which was illuminated when the beam passed through the tube. - The effect was substantially the same when the air was permitted to - bubble through the liquid acid and through the solution of potash. - - Thus, on the 5th of October, 1868, successive charges of air were - admitted through the potash and sulphuric acid into the exhausted - experimental tube. Prior to the admission of the air the tube was - _optically empty_; it contained nothing competent to scatter the - light. After the air had entered the tube, the conical track of the - electric beam was in all cases clearly revealed. This, indeed, was a - daily observation at the time to which I now refer. - - I tried to intercept this floating matter in various ways; and on - the day just mentioned, prior to sending the air through the drying - apparatus, I carefully permitted it to pass over the tip of a - spirit-lamp flame. The floating matter no longer appeared, having - been burnt up by the flame. It was, therefore, _organic matter_. - When the air was sent too rapidly through the flame, a fine blue - cloud was found in the experimental tube. This was the _smoke_ of - the organic particles. I was by no means prepared for this result; - for I had thought, with the rest of the world, that the dust of our - air was, in great part, inorganic and non-combustible. - - Mr. Valentin had the kindness to procure for me a small gas-furnace, - containing a platinum tube, which could be heated to vivid redness. - The tube also contained a roll of platinum gauze, which, while it - permitted the air to pass through it, insured the practical contact - of the dust with the incandescent metal. The air of the laboratory - was permitted to enter the experimental tube, sometimes through the - cold, and sometimes through the heated tube of platinum. The - rapidity of admission was also varied. In the first column of the - following table the quantity of air operated on is expressed by the - number of inches which the mercury gauge of the air-pump sank when - the air entered. In the second column the condition of the platinum - tube is mentioned, and in the third the state of the air which - entered the experimental tube. - - State of State of - Quantity Platinum Experimental - of Air. Tube. Tube. - - 15 inches Cold Full of particles. - - 15 inches Red-hot Optically empty. - - 15 inches Cold Full of particles. - - 15 inches Red-hot Optically empty. - - 15 inches Cold Full of particles. - - 15 inches Red-hot Optically empty. - - - The phrase “optically empty” shows that when the conditions of - perfect combustion were present, the floating matter totally - disappeared. It was wholly burnt up, leaving not a trace of residue. - From spectrum analysis, however, we know that soda floats in the - air; these organic dust particles are, I believe, the _rafts_ that - support it, and when they are removed it sinks and vanishes. - - When the passage of the air was so rapid as to render imperfect the - combustion of the floating matter, instead of optical emptiness a - fine blue cloud made its appearance in the experimental tube. The - following series of results illustrate this point: - - - Quantity. Platinum Tube. Experimental Tube. - 15 inches, slow Cold Full of particles. - 15 inches, slow Red-hot Optically empty. - 15 inches, quick Red-hot A blue cloud. - 15 inches, quick Intensely hot A fine blue cloud. - - - The optical character of these clouds was totally different from - that of the dust which produced them. At right angles to the - illuminating beam they discharged perfectly polarized light The - cloud could be utterly quenched by a transparent Nicol’s prism, and - the tube containing it reduced to optical emptiness. - - The particles floating in the air of London being thus proved to be - organic, I sought to burn them up at the focus of a concave - reflector. One of the powerfully convergent mirrors employed in my - experiments on combustion by dark rays was here made use of, but I - failed in the attempt. Doubtless the floating particles are in part - transparent to radiant heat, and are so far incombustible by such - heat. Their rapid motion through the focus also aids their escape. - They do not linger there sufficiently long to be consumed. A flame - it was evident would burn them up, but I thought the presence of the - flame would mask its own action among the particles. - - In a cylindrical beam, which powerfully illuminated the dust of the - laboratory, was placed an ignited spirit-lamp. Mingling with the - flame, and round its rim, were seen wreaths of darkness resembling - an intensely black smoke. On lowering the flame below the beam the - same dark masses stormed upwards. They were at times blacker than - the blackest smoke that I have ever seen issuing from the funnel of - a steamer, and their resemblance to smoke was so perfect as to lead - the most practiced observer to conclude that the apparently pure - flame of the alcohol lamp required but a beam of sufficient - intensity to reveal its clouds of liberated carbon. - - But is the blackness smoke? The question presented itself in a - moment. A red-hot poker was placed underneath the beam, and from it - the black wreaths also ascended. A large hydrogen flame was next - employed, and it produced those whirling masses of darkness far more - copiously than either the spirit-flame or poker. Smoke was, - therefore, out of the question. - - What, then, was the blackness? It was simply that of stellar space; - that is to say, blackness resulting from the absence from the track - of the beam of all matter competent to scatter its light. When the - flame was placed below the beam the floating matter was destroyed - _in situ_; and the air, freed from this matter, rose into the beam, - jostled aside the illuminated particles and substituted for their - light the darkness due to its own perfect transparency. Nothing - could more forcibly illustrate the invisibility of the agent which - renders all things visible. The beam crossed, unseen, the black - chasm formed by the transparent air, while at both sides of the gap - the thick-strewn particles shone out like a luminous solid under the - powerful illumination. - - But here a difficulty meets us. It is not necessary to burn the - particles to produce a stream of darkness. Without actual - combustion, currents may be generated which shall exclude the - floating matter, and therefore appear dark amid the surrounding - brightness. I noticed this effect first on placing a red-hot copper - ball below the beam, and permitting it to remain there until its - temperature had fallen below that of boiling water. The dark - currents, though much enfeebled, were still produced. They may also - be produced by a flask filled with hot water. - - To study this effect a platinum wire was stretched across the beam, - the two ends of the wire being connected with the two poles of a - voltaic battery. To regulate the strength of the current a rheostat - was placed in the circuit. Beginning with a feeble current the - temperature of the wire was gradually augmented, but before it - reached the heat of ignition, a flat stream of air rose from it, - which when looked at edgeways appeared darker and sharper than one - of the blackest lines of Fraunhofer in the solar spectrum. Right and - left of this dark vertical band the floating matter rose upwards, - bounding definitely the non-luminous stream of air. What is the - explanation? Simply this. The hot wire rarefied the air in contact - with it, but it did not equally lighten the floating matter. The - convection current of pure air therefore passed upwards _among the - particles_, dragging them after it right and left, but forming - between them an impassable black partition. In this way we render an - account of the dark currents produced by bodies at a temperature - below that of combustion. - - Oxygen, hydrogen, nitrogen, carbonic acid, so prepared as to exclude - all floating particles, produce the darkness when poured or blown - into the beam. Coal-gas does the same. An ordinary glass shade - placed in the air with its mouth downwards permits the track of the - beam to be seen crossing it. Let coal-gas or hydrogen enter the - shade by a tube reaching to its top, the gas gradually fills the - shade from the top downwards. As soon as it occupies the space - crossed by the beam, the luminous track is instantly abolished. - Lifting the shade so as to bring the common boundary of gas and air - above the beam, the track flashes forth. After the shade is full, if - it be inverted, the gas passes upwards like a black smoke among the - illuminated particles. - - The air of our London rooms is loaded with this organic dust, nor is - the country air free from its pollution. However ordinary daylight - may permit it to disguise itself, a sufficiently powerful beam - causes the air in which the dust is suspended to appear as a - semi-solid rather than as a gas. Nobody could, in the first - instance, without repugnance place the mouth at the illuminated - focus of the electric beam and inhale the dirt revealed there. Nor - is the disgust abolished by the reflection that, although we do not - see the nastiness, we are churning it in our lungs every hour and - minute of our lives. There is no respite to this contact with dirt; - and the wonder is, not that we should from time to time suffer from - its presence, but that so small a portion of it would appear to be - deadly to man. - - And what is this portion? It was some time ago the current belief - that epidemic diseases generally were propagated by a kind of - malaria, which consisted of organic matter in a state of - _motor-decay_; that when such matter was taken into the body through - the lungs or skin, it had the power of spreading there the - destroying process which had attacked itself. Such a spreading power - was visibly exerted in the case of yeast. A little leaven was seen - to leaven the whole lump, a mere speck of matter in this supposed - state of decomposition being apparently competent to propagate - indefinitely its own decay. Why should not a bit of rotten malaria - work in a similar manner within the human frame? In 1836 a very - wonderful reply was given to this question. In that year Cagniard de - la Tour discovered the _yeast plant_, a living organism, which, when - placed in a proper medium, feeds, grows, and reproduces itself, and - in this way carries on the process which we name fermentation. - Fermentation was thus proved to be a product of life instead of a - process of decay. - - Schwann, of Berlin, discovered the yeast plant independently, and in - February, 1837, he also announced the important result, that when a - decoction of meat is effectually screened from ordinary air, and - supplied solely with air which has been raised to a high - temperature, putrefaction never sets in. Putrefaction, therefore, he - affirmed to be caused by something derived from the air, which - something could be destroyed by a sufficiently high temperature. The - experiments of Schwann were repeated and confirmed by Helmholtz and - Ure. But as regards fermentation, the minds of chemists, influenced - probably by the great authority of Gay-Lussac, who ascribed - putrefaction to the action of oxygen, fell back upon the old notion - of matter in a state of decay. It was not the living yeast plant, - but the dead or dying parts of it, which, assailed by oxygen, - produced the fermentation. This notion was finally exploded by - Pasteur. He proved that the so-called “ferments” are not such; that - the true ferments are organized beings which find in the reputed - ferments their necessary food. - - Side by side with these researches and discoveries, and fortified by - them and others, has run the _germ theory_ of epidemic disease. The - notion was expressed by Kircher, and favored by Linnæus, that - epidemic diseases are due to germs which float in the atmosphere, - enter the body, and produce disturbance by the development within - the body of parasitic life. While it was still struggling against - great odds, this theory found an expounder and a defender in the - President of this Institution. At a time when most of his medical - brethren considered it a wild dream, Sir Henry Holland contended - that some form of the germ theory was probably true. The strength of - this theory consists in the perfect parallelism of the phenomena of - contagious disease with those of life. As a planted acorn gives - birth to an oak competent to produce a whole crop of acorns, each - gifted with the power of reproducing its parent tree, and as thus - from a single seedling a whole forest may spring, so these epidemic - diseases literally plant their seeds, grow, and shake abroad new - germs, which, meeting in the human body their proper food and - temperature, finally take possession of whole populations. Thus - Asiatic cholera, beginning in a small way in the Delta of the - Ganges, contrived in seventeen years to spread itself over nearly - the whole habitable world. The development from an infinitesimal - speck of the virus of small-pox of a crop of pustules, each charged - with the original poison, is another illustration. The reappearance - of the scourge, as in the case of the _Dreadnought_ at Greenwich, - reported on so ably by Dr. Budd and Mr. Busk, receives a - satisfactory explanation from the theory which ascribes it to the - lingering of germs about the infected place. - - Surgeons have long known the danger of permitting air to enter an - open abscess. To prevent its entrance they employ a tube called a - cannula, to which is attached a sharp steel point called a trocar. - They puncture with the steel point, and by gentle pressure they - force the pus through the cannula. It is necessary to be very - careful in cleansing the instrument; and it is difficult to see how - it can be cleansed by ordinary methods in air loaded with organic - impurities, as we have proved our air to be. The instrument ought, - in fact, to be made as hot as its temper will bear. But this is not - done, and hence, notwithstanding all the surgeon’s care, - inflammation often sets in after the first operation, rendering - necessary a second and a third. Rapid putrefaction is found to - accompany this new inflammation. The pus, moreover, which was sweet - at first, and showed no trace of animal life, is now fetid, and - swarming with active little organisms called vibrios. Prof. Lister, - from whose recent lecture this fact is derived, contends, with every - show of reason, that this rapid putrefaction and this astounding - development of animal life are due to the entry of germs into the - abscess during the first operation, and their subsequent nurture and - development under favorable conditions of food and temperature. The - celebrated physiologist and physicist, Helmholtz, is attacked - annually by hay-fever. From the 20th of May to the end of June he - suffers from a catarrh of the upper air-passages; and he has found - during this period, and at no other, that his nasal secretions are - peopled by these vibrios. They appear to nestle by preference in the - cavities and recesses of the nose, for a strong sneeze is necessary - to dislodge them. - - These statements sound uncomfortable; but by disclosing our enemy - they enable us to fight him. When he clearly eyes his quarry the - eagle’s strength is doubled, and his swoop is rendered sure. If the - germ theory be proved true, it will give a definiteness to our - efforts to stamp out disease which they could not previously - possess. And it is only by definite effort under its guidance that - its truth or falsehood can be established. It is difficult for an - outsider like myself to read without sympathetic emotion such papers - as those of Dr. Budd, of Bristol, on cholera, scarlet-fever, and - small-pox. He is a man of strong imagination, and may occasionally - take a flight beyond his facts; but without this dynamic heat of - heart, the stolid inertia of the free-born Briton cannot be - overcome. And as long as the heat is employed to warm up the truth - without singeing it overmuch; as long as this enthusiasm can - overmatch its mistakes by unequivocal examples of success, so long - am I disposed to give it a fair field to work in, and to wish it God - speed. - - But let us return to our dust. It is needless to remark that it - cannot be blown away by an ordinary bellows; or, more correctly, the - place of the particles blown away is in this case supplied by others - ejected from the bellows, so that the track of the beam remains - unimpaired. But if the nozzle of a good bellows be filled with - cotton wool not too tightly packed, the air urged through the wool - is filtered of its floating matter, and it then forms a clean band - of darkness in the illuminated dust. This was the filter used by - Schroëder in his experiments on spontaneous generation, and turned - subsequently to account in the excellent researches of Pasteur. - Since 1868 I have constantly employed it myself. - - But by far the most interesting and important illustration of this - filtering process is furnished by the human breath. I fill my lungs - with ordinary air and breathe through a glass tube across the - electric beam. The condensation of the aqueous vapor of the breath - is shown by the formation of a luminous white cloud of delicate - texture. It is necessary to abolish this cloud, and this may be done - by drying the breath previous to its entering into the beam; or - still more simply, by warming the glass tube. When this is done the - luminous track of the beam is for a time uninterrupted. The breath - impresses upon the floating matter a transverse motion, but the dust - from the lungs makes good the particles displaced. But after some - time an obscure disc appears upon the beam, the darkness of which - increases, until finally, towards the end of the expiration, the - beam is, as it were, pierced by an intensely black hole, in which no - particles whatever can be discerned. The air, in fact, has so lodged - its dirt within the lungs as to render the last portions of the - expired breath absolutely free from suspended matter. This - experiment may be repeated any number of times with the same result. - It renders the distribution of the dirt within the lungs as manifest - as if the chest were transparent. - - I now empty my lungs as perfectly as possible, and placing a handful - of cotton wool against my mouth and nostrils, inhale through it. - There is no difficulty in thus filling the lungs with air. On - expiring this air through the glass tube, its freedom from floating - matter is at once manifest. From the very beginning of the act of - expiration the beam is pierced by a black aperture. The first puff - from the lungs abolishes the illuminated dust and puts a patch of - darkness in its place, and the darkness continues throughout the - entire course of the expiration. When the tube is placed below the - beam and moved to and fro, the same smoke-like appearance as that - obtained with a flame is observed. In short, the cotton wool, when - used in sufficient quantity, completely intercepts the floating - matter on its way to the lungs. - - And here we have revealed to us the true philosophy of a practice - followed by medical men, more from instinct than from actual - knowledge. In a contagious atmosphere the physician places a - handkerchief to his mouth and inhales through it. In doing so he - unconsciously holds back the dirt and germs of the air. If the - poison were a gas it would not be thus intercepted. On showing this - experiment with the cotton wool to Dr. Bence Jones, he immediately - repeated it with a silk handkerchief. The result was substantially - the same, though, as might be expected, the wool is by far the - surest filter. The application of these experiments is obvious. If a - physician wishes to hold back from the lungs of his patient, or from - his own, the germs by which contagious disease is said to be - propagated, he will employ a cotton wool respirator. After the - revelations of this evening, such respirators must, I think, come - into general use as a defence against contagion. In the crowded - dwellings of the London poor, where the isolation of the sick is - difficult, if not impossible, the noxious air around the patient - may, by this simple means, be restored to practical purity. Thus - filtered, attendants may breathe the air unharmed. In all - probability the protection of the lungs will be protection of the - entire system. For it is exceedingly probable that the germs which - lodge in the air-passages, and which, at their leisure, can work - their way across the mucous membrane, are those which sow in the - body epidemic disease. If this be so, then disease can certainly be - warded off by filters of cotton wool. I should be most willing to - test their efficacy in my own person. And time will decide whether - in lung diseases also the woolen respirator cannot abate irritation, - if not arrest decay. By its means, so far as the germs are - concerned, the air of the highest Alps may be brought into the - chamber of the invalid. - - III. - - Scientific Use of the Imagination. - - I carried with me to the Alps this year the heavy burden of this - evening’s work. In the way of new investigation I had nothing - complete enough to be brought before you; so all that remained to me - was to fall back upon such residues as I could find in the depths of - consciousness, and out of them to spin the fiber and weave the web - of this discourse. Save from memory I had no direct aid upon the - mountains; but to spur up the emotions, on which so much depends, as - well as to nourish indirectly the intellect and will, I took with me - two volumes of poetry, Goethe’s “Farbenlehre,” and the work on - “Logic” recently published by Mr. Alexander Bain. The spur, I am - sorry to say, was no match for the integument of dullness it had to - pierce. - - In Goethe, so glorious otherwise, I chiefly noticed the - self-inflicted hurts of genius, as it broke itself in vain against - the philosophy of Newton. For a time Mr. Bain became my principal - companion. I found him learned and practical, shining generally with - a dry light, but exhibiting at times a flush of emotional strength, - which proved that even logicians share the common fire of humanity. - He interested me most when he became the mirror of my own condition. - Neither intellectually nor socially is it good for man to be alone, - and the griefs of thought are more patiently borne when we find that - they have been experienced by another. From certain passages in his - book I could infer that Mr. Bain was no stranger to such sorrows. - Take this passage as an illustration. Speaking of the ebb of - intellectual force which we all from time to time experience, Mr. - Bain says: “The uncertainty where to look for the next opening of - discovery brings the pain of conflict and the debility of - indecision.” These words have in them the true ring of personal - experience. - - The action of the investigator is periodic. He grapples with a - subject of inquiry, wrestles with it, overcomes it, exhausts, it may - be, both himself and it for the time being. He breathes a space, and - then renews the struggle in another field. Now this period of - halting between two investigations is not always one of pure repose. - It is often a period of doubt and discomfort, of gloom and ennui. - “The uncertainty where to look for the next opening of discovery - brings the pain of conflict and the debility of indecision.” Such - was my precise condition in the Alps this year; in a score of words - Mr. Bain has here sketched my mental diagnosis; and it was under - these evil circumstances that I had to equip myself for the hour and - the ordeal that are now come. - - Gladly, however, as I should have seen this duty in other hands, I - could by no means shrink from it. Disloyalty would have been worse - than failure. In some fashion or other—feebly or strongly, meanly or - manfully, on the higher levels of thought, or on the flats of - commonplace—the task had to be accomplished. I looked in various - directions for help and furtherance; but without me for a time I saw - only “antres vast,” and within me “deserts idle.” My case resembled - that of a sick doctor who had forgotten his art, and sorely needed - the prescription of a friend. Mr. Bain wrote one for me. He said: - “Your present knowledge must forge the links of connection between - what has been already achieved and what is now required.” - - In these words he admonished me to review the past and recover from - it the broken ends of former investigations. I tried to do so. - Previous to going to Switzerland I had been thinking much of light - and heat, of magnetism and electricity, of organic germs, atoms, - molecules, spontaneous generation, comets and skies. With one or - another of these I now sought to re-form an alliance, and finally - succeeded in establishing a kind of cohesion between thought and - light. The wish grew within me to trace, and to enable you to trace, - some of the more occult operations of this agent. I wished, if - possible, to take you behind the drop-scene of the senses, and to - show you the hidden mechanism of optical action. For I take it to be - well worth the while of the scientific teacher to take some pains, - and even great pains, to make those whom he addresses co-partners of - his thoughts. To clear his own mind in the first place from all haze - and vagueness, and then to project into language which shall leave - no mistake as to his meaning—which shall leave even his errors - naked—the definite ideas he has shaped. - - A great deal is, I think, possible to scientific exposition - conducted in this way. It is possible, I believe, even before an - audience like the present, to uncover to some extent the unseen - things of nature, and thus to give, not only to professed students, - but to others with the necessary bias, industry and capacity, an - intelligent interest in the operations of science. Time and labor - are necessary to this result, but science is the gainer from the - public sympathy thus created. - - How then are those hidden things to be revealed? How, for example, - are we to lay hold of the physical basis of light, since, like that - of life itself, it lies entirely without the domain of the senses? - Now, philosophers may be right in affirming that we cannot transcend - experience. But we can, at all events, carry it a long way from its - origin. We can also magnify, diminish, qualify, and combine - experiences, so as to render them fit for purposes entirely new. We - are gifted with the power of imagination, combining what the Germans - called _Anschauungsgabe_ and _Einbildungskraft_, and by this power - we can lighten the darkness which surrounds the world of the senses. - - There are tories even in science who regard imagination as a faculty - to be feared and avoided rather than employed. They had observed its - action in weak vessels and were unduly impressed by its disasters. - But they might with equal justice point to exploded boilers as an - argument against the use of steam. Bounded and conditioned by - coöperant reason, imagination becomes the mightiest instrument of - the physical discoverer. Newton’s passage from a falling apple to a - falling moon was a leap of the imagination. When William Thomson - tries to place the ultimate particles of matter between his compass - points, and to apply to them a scale of millimeters, it is an - exercise of the imagination. And in much that has been recently said - about protoplasm and life, we have the outgoings of the imagination - guided and controlled by the known analogies of science. In fact, - without this power our knowledge of nature would be a mere - tabulation of coëxistences and sequences. We should still believe in - the succession of day and night, of summer and winter; but the soul - of force would be dislodged from our universe; casual relations - would disappear, and with them that science which is now binding the - parts of nature to an organic whole. - - I should like to illustrate by a few simple instances the use that - scientific men have already made of this power of imagination, and - to indicate afterwards some of the further uses that they are likely - to make of it. Let us begin with the rudimentary experiences. - Observe the falling of heavy rain drops into a tranquil pond. Each - drop as it strikes the water becomes a center of disturbance, from - which a series of ring ripples expands outwards. Gravity and inertia - are the agents by which this wave motion is produced, and a rough - experiment will suffice to show that the rate of propagation does - not amount to a foot a second. - - A series of slight mechanical shocks is experienced by a body - plunged in the water as the wavelets reach it in succession. But a - finer motion is at the same time set up and propagated. If the head - and ears be immersed in the water, as in an experiment of - Franklin’s, the shock of the drop is communicated to the auditory - nerve—the _tick_ of the drop is heard. Now this sonorous impulse is - propagated, not at the rate of a foot a second, but at the rate of - 4,700 feet a second. In this case it is not the gravity but the - _elasticity_ of the water that is the urging force. Every liquid - particle pushed against its neighbor delivers up its motion with - extreme rapidity, and the pulse is propagated as a thrill. The - incompressibility of water, as illustrated by the famous Florentine - experiment, is a measure of its elasticity, and to the possession of - this property in so high a degree the rapid transmission of a - sound-pulse through water is to be ascribed. - - But water, as you know, is not necessary to the conduction of sound; - air is its most common vehicle. And you know that when the air - possesses the particular density and elasticity corresponding to the - temperature of freezing water, the velocity of sound in it is 1,090 - feet a second. It is almost exactly one-fourth of the velocity in - water; the reason being that though the greater weight of the water - tends to diminish the velocity, the enormous molecular elasticity of - the liquid far more than atones for the disadvantage due to weight. - By various contrivances we can compel the vibrations of the air to - declare themselves; we know the length and frequency of sonorous - waves, and we have also obtained great mastery over the various - methods by which the air is thrown into vibration. We know the - phenomena and laws of vibrating rods, of organ pipes, strings, - membranes, plates, and bells. We can abolish one sound by another. - We know the physical meaning of music and noise, of harmony and - discord. In short, as regards sound we have a very clear notion of - the external physical processes which correspond to our sensations. - - In these phenomena of sound we travel a very little way from - downright sensible experience. Still the imagination is to some - extent exercised. The bodily eye, for example, cannot see the - condensations and rarefactions of the waves of sound. We construct - them in thought, and we believe as firmly in their existence as in - that of the air itself. But now our experience has to be carried - into a new region, where a new use is to be made of it. - - Having mastered the cause and mechanism of sound, we desire to know - the cause and mechanism of light. We wish to extend our inquiries - from the auditory nerve to the optic nerve. Now there is in the - human intellect a power of expansion—I might almost call it a power - of creation—which is brought into play by the simple brooding upon - facts. The legend of the Spirit brooding over chaos may have - originated in a knowledge of this power. In the case now before us - it has manifested itself by transplanting into space, for the - purposes of light, an adequately modified form of the mechanism of - sound. We know intimately whereon the velocity of sound depends. - When we lessen the density of a medium and preserve its elasticity - constant, we augment the velocity. When we highten the elasticity - and keep the density constant, we also augment the velocity. A small - density, therefore, and a great elasticity are the two things - necessary to rapid propagation. - - Now light is known to move with the astounding velocity of 185,000 - miles a second. How is such a velocity to be obtained? By boldly - diffusing in space a medium of the requisite tenuity and elasticity. - Let us make such a medium our starting point, endowing it with one - or two other necessary qualities; let us handle it in accordance - with strict mechanical laws; give to every step of your deduction - the surety of the syllogism; carry it thus forth from the world of - imagination to the world of sense, and see whether the final outcrop - of the deduction be not the very phenomena of light which ordinary - knowledge and skilled experiment reveal. If in all the multiplied - varieties of these phenomena, including those of the most remote and - entangled description, this fundamental conception always brings us - face to face with the truth; if no contradiction to our deductions - from it be found in external nature; if, moreover, it has actually - forced upon our attention phenomena which no eye had previously - seen, and which no mind had previously imagined; if by it we are - gifted with a power of prescience which has never failed when - brought to an experimental test; such a conception, which never - disappoints us, but always lands us on the solid shores of fact, - must, we think, be something more than a mere figment of the - scientific fancy. In forming it that composite and creative unity in - which reason and imagination are together blent, has, we believe, - led us into a world not less real than that of the senses, and of - which the world of sense itself is the suggestion and justification. - - Far be it from me, however, to wish to fix you immovably in this or - in any other theoretic conception. With all our belief of it, it - will be well to keep the theory plastic and capable of change. You - may, moreover, urge that although the phenomena occur _as if_ the - medium existed, the absolute demonstration of its existence is still - wanting. Far be it from me to deny to this reasoning such validity - as it may fairly claim. Let us endeavor by means of analogy to form - a fair estimate of its force. - - You believe that in society you are surrounded by reasonable beings - like yourself. You are, perhaps, as firmly convinced of this as of - anything. What is your warrant for this conviction? Simply and - solely this, your fellow-creatures behave as if they were - reasonable; the hypothesis, for it is nothing more, accounts for the - facts. To take an eminent example, you believe that our president is - a reasonable being. Why? There is no known method of superposition - by which any one of us can apply himself intellectually to another - so as to demonstrate coincidence as regards the possession of - reason. If, therefore, you hold our president to be reasonable, it - is because he behaves _as if_ he were reasonable. As in the case of - the ether, beyond the “_as if_” you cannot go. Nay, I should not - wonder if a close comparison of the data on which both inferences - rest caused many respectable persons to conclude that the ether had - the best of it. - - This universal medium, this light-ether as it is called, is a - vehicle, not an origin of wave motion. It receives and transmits, - but it does not create. Whence does it derive the motions it - conveys? For the most part from luminous bodies. By this motion of a - luminous body I do not mean its sensible motion, such as the flicker - of a candle, or the shooting out of red prominences from the limb of - the sun. I mean an intestine motion of the atoms or molecules of the - luminous body. But here a certain reserve is necessary. Many - chemists of the present day refuse to speak of atoms and molecules - as real things. Their caution leads them to stop short of the clear, - sharp, mechanically intelligible atomic theory enunciated by Dalton, - or any form of that theory, and to make the doctrine of multiple - proportions their intellectual bourne. I respect the caution, though - I think it is here misplaced. The chemists who recoil from these - notions of atoms and molecules accept without hesitation the - undulatory theory of light. Like you and me they one and all believe - in an ether and its light-producing waves. Let us consider what this - belief involves. - - Bring your imaginations once more into play and figure a series of - sound waves passing through air. Follow them up to their origin, and - what do you there find? A definite, tangible, vibrating body. It may - be the vocal chords of a human being, it may be an organ pipe, or it - may be a stretched string. Follow in the same manner a train of - ether waves to their source, remembering at the same time that your - ether is matter, dense, elastic, and capable of motions subject to - and determined by mechanical laws. What then do you expect to find - as the source of a series of ether waves? Ask your imagination if it - will accept a vibrating multiple proportion—a numerical ratio in a - state of oscillation? I do not think it will. You cannot crown the - edifice by this abstraction. The scientific imagination, which is - here authoritative, demands as the origin and cause of a series of - ether waves a particle of vibrating matter quite as definite, though - it may be excessively minute, as that which gives origin to a - musical sound. Such a particle we name an atom or a molecule. I - think the imagination when focused so as to give definition without - penumbral haze is sure to realize this image at last. - - To preserve thought continuous throughout this discourse, to prevent - either lack of knowledge or failure of memory from producing any - rent in our picture, I here propose to run rapidly over a bit of - ground which is probably familiar to most of you, but which I am - anxious to make familiar to you all. - - The waves generated in the ether by the swinging atoms of luminous - bodies are of different lengths and amplitudes. The amplitude is the - width of swing of the individual particles of the wave. In water - waves it is the hight of the crest above the trough, while the - length of the wave is the distance between two consecutive crests. - The aggregate of waves emitted by the sun may be broadly divided - into two classes, the one class competent, the other incompetent, to - excite vision. - - But the light-producing waves differ markedly among themselves in - size, form, and force. The length of the largest of these waves is - about twice that of the smallest, but the amplitude of the largest - is probably a hundred times that of the smallest. Now the force or - energy of the wave, which, expressed with reference to sensation, - means the intensity of the light, is proportional to the square of - the amplitude. Hence the amplitude being one hundred-fold, the - energy of the largest light-giving waves would be ten thousand-fold - that of the smallest. This is not improbable. I use these figures, - not with a view to numerical accuracy, but to give you definite - ideas of the differences that probably exist among the light-giving - waves. And if we take the whole range of solar radiation into - account—its non-visual as well as its visual waves—I think it - probable that the force or energy of the largest wave is a million - times that of the smallest. - - Turned into their equivalents of sensation, the different light - waves produce different colors. Red, for example, is produced by the - largest waves, violet by the smallest, while green is produced by a - wave of intermediate length and amplitude. On entering from air into - more highly refracting substances, such as glass or water or the - sulphide of carbon, all the waves are retarded, but the smallest - ones most. This furnishes a means of separating the different - classes of waves from each other—in other words, of analyzing the - light. Sent through a refracting prism, the waves of the sun are - turned aside in different degrees from their direct course, the red - least, the violet most. They are virtually pulled asunder, and they - paint upon a white screen placed to receive them “the solar - spectrum.” - - Strictly speaking, the spectrum embraces an infinity of colors, but - the limits of language and of our powers of distinction cause it to - be divided into seven segments: Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, - indigo, violet. These are the seven primary or prismatic colors. - Separately, or mixed in various proportions, the solar waves yield - all the colors observed in nature and employed in art. Collectively - they give us the impression of whiteness. Pure unsifted solar light - is white; and if all the wave constituents of such light be reduced - in the same proportion, the light, though diminished in intensity, - will still be white. The whiteness of Alpine snow with the sun - shining upon it is barely tolerable to the eye. The same snow under - an overcast firmament is still white. Such a firmament enfeebles the - light by reflection, and when we lift ourselves above a - cloud-field—to an Alpine summit, for instance, or to the top of - Snowdon—and see, in the proper direction, the sun shining on the - clouds, they appear dazzlingly white. Ordinary clouds, in fact, - divide the solar light impinging on them into two parts—a reflected - part and a transmitted part, in each of which the proportions of - wave motion which produce the impression of whiteness are sensibly - preserved. - - It will be understood that the conditions of whiteness would fail if - all the waves were diminished _equally_, or by the same absolute - quantity. They must be reduced _proportionately_ instead of equally. - If by the act of reflection the waves of red light are split into - exact halves, then, to preserve the light white, the waves of - yellow, orange, green, and blue must also be split into exact - halves. In short, the reduction must take place, not by absolutely - equal quantities, but by equal fractional parts. In white light the - preponderance as regards energy of the larger over the smaller waves - must always be immense. Were the case otherwise, the physiological - correlative, _blue_, of the smaller waves would have the upper hand - in our sensations. - - My wish to render our mental images complete, causes me to dwell - briefly upon these known points, and the same wish will cause me to - linger a little longer among others. But here I am disturbed by my - reflections. When I consider the effect of dinner upon the nervous - system, and the relation of that system to the intellectual powers I - am now invoking; when I remember that the universal experience of - mankind has fixed upon certain definite elements of perfection in an - after-dinner speech, and when I think how conspicuous by their - absence these elements are on the present occasion, the thought is - not comforting to a man who wishes to stand well with his - fellow-creatures in general, and with the members of the British - Association in particular. My condition might well resemble that of - the ether, which is scientifically defined as an assemblage of - vibrations. And the worst of it is that, unless you reverse the - general verdict regarding the effect of dinner, and prove in your - own persons that a uniform experience need not continue - uniform—which will be a great point gained for some people—these - tremors of mine are likely to become more and more painful. But I - call to mind the comforting words of an inspired, though uncanonical - writer, who admonishes us in the Apocrypha that fear is a bad - counsellor. Let me then cast him out, and let me trustfully assume - that you will one and all postpone that balmy sleep, of which dinner - might, under the circumstances, be regarded as the indissoluble - antecedent, and that you will manfully and womanfully prolong your - investigations of the ether and its waves into regions which have - been hitherto crossed by the pioneers of science alone. - - Not only are the waves of ether reflected by clouds, by solids, and - by liquids, but when they pass from light air to dense, or from - dense air to light, a portion of the wave motion is always - reflected. Now our atmosphere changes continually in density from - top to bottom. It will help our conceptions if we regard it as made - up of a series of thin concentric layers or shells of air, each - shell being of the same density throughout, and a small and sudden - change of density occurring in passing from shell to shell. Light - would be reflected at the limiting surfaces of all these shells, and - their action would be practically the same as that of the real - atmosphere. - - And now I would ask your imagination to picture this act of - reflection. What must become of the reflected light? The atmospheric - layers turn their convex surfaces towards the sun; they are so many - convex mirrors of feeble power, and you will immediately perceive - that the light regularly reflected from these surfaces cannot reach - the earth at all, but is dispersed in space. - - But though the sun’s light is not reflected in this fashion from the - ærial layers to the earth, there is indubitable evidence to show - that the light of our firmament is reflected light. Proofs of the - most cogent description could be here adduced; but we need only - consider that we receive light at the same time from all parts of - the hemisphere of heaven. The light of the firmament comes to us - across the direction of the solar rays, and even against the - direction of the solar rays; and this lateral and opposing rush of - wave motion can only be due to the rebound of the waves from the air - itself, or from something suspended in the air. It is also evident - that, unlike the action of clouds, the solar light is not reflected - by the sky in the proportions which produce white. The sky is blue, - which indicates a deficiency on the part of the larger waves. In - accounting for the color of the sky, the first question suggested by - analogy would undoubtedly be, is not the air blue? The blueness of - the air has, in fact, been given as a solution of the blueness of - the sky. But reason basing itself on observation asks in reply, How, - if the air be blue, can the light of sunrise and sunset, which - travels through vast distances of air, be yellow, orange, or even - red? The passage of the white solar light through a blue medium - could by no possibility redden the light. The hypothesis of a blue - air is therefore untenable. In fact, the agent, whatever it is, - which sends us the light of the sky, exercises in so doing a - dichroitic action. The light reflected is blue, the light - transmitted is orange or red. A marked distinction is thus exhibited - between the matter of the sky and that of an ordinary cloud, which - latter exercises no such dichroitic action. - - By the force of imagination and reason combined we may penetrate - this mystery also. The cloud takes no note of size on the part of - the waves of ether, but reflects them all alike. It exercises no - selective action. Now the cause of this may be that the cloud - particles are so large in comparison with the size of the waves of - ether as to reflect them all indifferently. A broad cliff reflects - an Atlantic roller as easily as a ripple produced by a sea bird’s - wing; and in the presence of large reflecting surfaces the existing - differences of magnitude among the waves of ether may disappear. But - supposing the reflecting particles, instead of being very large, to - be very small, in comparison with the size of the waves. In this - case, instead of the whole wave being fronted and in great part - thrown back, a small portion only is shivered off. The great mass of - the wave passes over such a particle without reflection. Scatter - then, a handful of such minute foreign particles in our atmosphere, - and set imagination to watch their action upon the solar waves. - Waves of all sizes impinge upon the particles, and you see at every - collision a portion of the impinging wave struck off by reflection. - All the waves of the spectrum, from the extreme red to the extreme - violet, are thus acted upon. But in what proportions will the waves - be scattered? A clear picture will enable us to anticipate the - experimental answer. Remembering that the red waves are to the blue - much in the relation of billows to ripples, let us consider whether - those extremely small particles are competent to scatter all the - waves in the same proportion. If they be not—and a little reflection - will make it clear to you that they are not—the production of color - must be an incident of the scattering. Largeness is a thing of - relation; and the smaller the wave the greater is the relative size - of any particle on which the wave impinges, and the greater also the - ratio of the reflected portion to the total wave. - - A pebble placed in the way of the ring-ripples produced by our heavy - rain-drops on a tranquil pond will throw back a large fraction of - the ripple incident upon it, while the fractional part of a larger - wave thrown back by the same pebble might be infinitesimal. Now we - have already made it clear to our minds that to preserve the solar - light white, its constituent proportions must not be altered; but in - the act of division performed by these very small particles we see - that the proportions _are_ altered; an undue fraction of the smaller - waves is scattered by the particles, and, as a consequence, in the - scattered light blue will be the predominant color. The other colors - of the spectrum must, to some extent, be associated with the blue. - They are not absent, but deficient. We ought, in fact, to have them - all, but in diminishing proportions, from the violet to the red. - - We have here presented a case to the imagination, and assuming the - undulatory theory to be a reality, we have, I think, fairly reasoned - our way to the conclusion that, were particles, small in comparison - to the size of the ether waves, sown in our atmosphere, the light - scattered by those particles would be exactly such as we observe in - our azure skies. When this light is analyzed all the colors of the - spectrum are found; but they are found in the proportions indicated - by our conclusion. - - Let us now turn our attention to the light which passes unscattered - among the particles. How must it be finally affected? By its - successive collisions with the particles, the white light is more - and more robbed of its shorter waves; it therefore loses more and - more of its due proportion of blue. The result may be anticipated. - The transmitted light, where short distances are involved, will - appear yellowish. But as the sun sinks towards the horizon, the - atmospheric distances increase, and consequently the number of the - scattering particles. They abstract, in succession, the violet, the - indigo, the blue, and even disturb the proportions of green. The - transmitted light under such circumstances must pass from yellow - through orange to red. This also is exactly what we find in nature. - Thus, while the reflected light gives us at noon the deep azure of - the Alpine skies, the transmitted light gives us at sunset the warm - crimson of the Alpine snows. The phenomena certainly occur _as if_ - our atmosphere were a medium rendered slightly turbid by the - mechanical suspension of exceedingly small foreign particles. - - Here, as before, we encounter our skeptical “as if.” It is one of - the parasites of science, ever at hand, and ready to plant itself - and sprout, if it can, on the weak points of our philosophy. But a - strong constitution defies the parasite, and in our case, as we - question the phenomena, probability grows like growing health, until - in the end the malady of doubt is completely extirpated. - - The first question that naturally arises is, Can small particles be - really proved to act in the manner indicated? No doubt of it. Each - one of you can submit the question to an experimental test. Water - will not dissolve resin, but spirit will, and when spirit which - holds resin in solution is dropped into water the resin immediately - separates in solid particles, which render the water milky. The - coarseness of this precipitate depends on the quantity of the - dissolved resin. You can cause it to separate in thick clots or in - exceedingly fine particles. Professor Brücke has given us the - proportions which produce particles particularly suited to our - present purpose. One gramme of clean mastic is dissolved in - eighty-seven grammes of absolute alcohol, and the transparent - solution is allowed to drop into a beaker containing clear water - kept briskly stirred. An exceedingly fine precipitate is thus - formed, which declares its presence by its action upon light. - Placing a dark surface behind the beaker, and permitting the light - to fall into it from the top or front, the medium is seen to be - distinctly blue. It is not, perhaps, so perfect a blue as I have - seen on exceptional days, this year, among the Alps, but it is a - very fair sky blue. A trace of soap in water gives a tint of blue. - London, and I fear Liverpool milk, makes an approximation to the - same color through the operation of the same cause; and Helmholtz - has irreverently disclosed the fact that a blue eye is simply a - turbid medium. - - Numerous instances of the kind might be cited. The action of turbid - media upon light was fully and beautifully illustrated by Goethe, - who, though unacquainted with the undulatory theory, was led by his - experiments to regard the blue of the firmament as caused by an - illuminated turbid medium with the darkness of space behind it. He - describes glasses showing a bright yellow by transmitted, and a - beautiful blue by reflected light. Professor Stokes, who was - probably the first to discern the real nature of the action of small - particles on the waves of ether, describes a glass of a similar - kind. What artists call “chill” is no doubt an effect of this - description. Through the action of minute particles, the browns of a - picture often present the appearance of the bloom of a plum. By - rubbing the varnish with a silk handkerchief optical continuity is - established and the chill disappears. - - Some years ago I witnessed Mr. Hirst experimenting at Zermatt on the - turbid water of the Visp, which was charged with the finely divided - matter ground down by the glaciers. When kept still for a day or so - the grosser matter sank, but the finer matter remained suspended, - and gave a distinctly blue tinge to the water. No doubt the blueness - of certain Alpine lakes is in part due to this cause. Professor - Roscoe has noticed several striking cases of a similar kind. In a - very remarkable paper the late Principal Forbes showed that steam - issuing from the safety valve of a locomotive, when favorably - observed, exhibits at a certain stage of its condensation the colors - of the sky. It is blue by reflected light, and orange or red by - transmitted light. The effect, as pointed out by Goethe, is to some - extent exhibited by peat smoke. - - More than ten years ago I amused myself at Killarney, by observing - on a calm day, the straight smoke columns rising from the chimneys - of the cabins. It was easy to project the lower portion of a column - against a bright cloud. The smoke in the former case was blue, being - seen mainly by reflected light; in the latter case it was reddish, - being seen mainly by transmitted light. Such smoke was not in - exactly the condition to give us the glow of the Alps, but it was a - step in this direction. Brücke’s fine precipitate above referred to - looks yellowish by transmitted light, but by duly strengthening the - precipitate you may render the white light of noon as ruby colored - as the sun when seen through Liverpool smoke or upon Alpine - horizons. - - I do not, however, point to the gross smoke arising from coal as an - illustration of the action of small particles, because such smoke - soon absorbs and destroys the waves of blue instead of sending them - to the eyes of the observer. - - These multifarious facts, and numberless others which cannot now be - referred to, are explained by reference to the single principle that - where the scattering particles are small in comparison to the size - of the waves, we have in the reflected light a greater proportion of - the smaller waves, and in the transmitted light a greater proportion - of the larger waves, than existed in the original white light. The - physiological consequence is that in the one light blue is - predominant, and in the other light orange or red. And now let us - push our inquiries forward. Our best microscopes can readily reveal - objects not more than 1/50000 of an inch in diameter. This is less - than the length of a wave of red light. Indeed, a first-rate - microscope would enable us to discern objects not exceeding in - diameter the length of the smallest waves of the visible spectrum. - By the microscope, therefore, we can submit our particles to an - experimental test. If they are as large as the light-waves they will - infallibly be seen; and if they are not seen it is because they are - smaller. - - I placed in the hands of our president a bottle containing Brücke’s - particles in greater number and coarseness than those examined by - Brücke himself. The liquid was a milky blue, and Mr. Huxley applied - to it his highest microscopic power. He satisfied me at the time - that had particles of even 1/100000 of an inch in diameter existed - in the liquid they could not have escaped detection. But no - particles were seen. Under the microscope the turbid liquid was not - to be distinguished from distilled water. Brücke, I may say, also - found the particles to be of ultra microscopic magnitude. - - But we have it in our power to imitate far more closely than we have - hitherto done the natural conditions of this problem. We can - generate in air, as many of you know, artificial skies, and prove - their perfect identity with the natural one as regards the - exhibition of a number of wholly unexpected phenomena. By a - continuous process of growth, moreover, we are able to connect sky - matter, if I may use the term, with molecular matter on the one - side, and with molar matter, or matter in sensible masses, on the - other. - - In illustration of this, I will take an experiment described by M. - Morren, of Marseilles, at the last meeting of the British - Association. Sulphur and oxygen combine to form sulphurous acid gas. - It is this choking gas that is smelt when a sulphur match is burnt - in air. Two atoms of oxygen and one of sulphur constitute the - molecule of sulphurous acid. Now it has been recently shown in a - great number of instances that waves of ether issuing from a strong - source, such as the sun or the electric light, are competent to - shake asunder the atoms of gaseous molecules. A chemist would call - this “decomposition” by light; but it behooves us, who are examining - the power and function of the imagination, to keep constantly before - us the physical images which we hold to underlie our terms. - Therefore I say, sharply and definitely, that the components of the - molecules of sulphurous acid are shaken asunder by the ether waves. - Enclosing the substance in a suitable vessel, placing it in a dark - room, and sending through it a powerful beam of light, we at first - see nothing; the vessel containing the gas is as empty as a vacuum. - Soon, however, along the track of the beam a beautiful sky-blue - color is observed, which is due to the liberated particles of - sulphur. For a time the blue grows more intense; it then becomes - whitish; and from a whitish blue it passes to a more or less perfect - white. If the action be continued long enough, we end by filling the - tube with a dense cloud of sulphur particles, which by the - application of proper means may be rendered visible. - - Here, then, our ether waves untie the bond of chemical affinity, and - liberate a body—sulphur—which at ordinary temperatures is a solid, - and which therefore soon becomes an object of the senses. We have - first of all the free atoms of sulphur, which are both invisible and - incompetent to stir the retina sensibly with scattered light. But - these atoms gradually coalesce and form particles, which grow larger - by continual accretion until after a minute or two they appear as - sky matter. In this condition they are invisible themselves, but - competent to send an amount of wave motion to the retina sufficient - to produce the firmamental blue. The particles continue, or may be - caused to continue, in this condition for a considerable time, - during which no microscope can cope with them. But they continually - grow larger, and pass by insensible gradations into the state of - _cloud_, when they can no longer elude the armed eye. Thus, without - solution of continuity, we start with matter in the molecule, and - end with matter in the mass, sky matter being the middle term of the - series of transformations. - - Instead of sulphurous acid we might choose from a dozen other - substances, and produce the same effect with any of them. In the - case of some—probably in the case of all—it is possible to preserve - matter in the skyey condition for fifteen or twenty minutes under - the continual operation of the light. During these fifteen or twenty - minutes the particles are constantly growing larger, without ever - exceeding the size requisite to the production of the celestial - blue. Now when two vessels are placed before you, each containing - sky matter, it is possible to state with great distinctness which - vessel contains the largest particles. - - The eye is very sensitive to differences of light, when, as here, - the eye is in comparative darkness, and when the quantities of wave - motion thrown against the retina are small. The larger particles - declare themselves by the greater whiteness of their scattered - light. Call now to mind the observation, or effort at observation, - made by our president when he failed to distinguish the particles of - resin in Brücke’s medium, and when you have done so follow me. I - permitted a beam of light to act upon a certain vapor. In two - minutes the azure appeared, but at the end of fifteen minutes it had - not ceased to be azure. After fifteen minutes, for example, its - color and some other phenomena pronounced it to be a blue of - distinctly smaller particles than those sought for in vain by Mr. - Huxley. These particles, as already stated, must have been less than - 1/100000 of an inch in diameter. - - And now I want you to submit to your imagination the following - question: Here are particles which have been growing continually for - fifteen minutes, and at the end of that time are demonstrably - smaller than those which defied the microscope of Mr. Huxley. What - must have been the size of these particles at the beginning of their - growth? What notion can you form of the magnitude of such particles? - As the distances of stellar space give us simply a bewildering sense - of vastness without leaving any distinct impression on the mind, so - the magnitudes with which we have here to do impress us with a - bewildering sense of smallness. We are dealing with infinitesimals - compared with which the test objects of the microscope are literally - immense. - - From their perviousness to stellar light, and other considerations, - Sir John Herschel drew some startling conclusions regarding the - density and weight of comets. You know that these extraordinary and - mysterious bodies sometimes throw out tails 100,000,000 of miles in - length, and 50,000 miles in diameter. The diameter of our earth is - 8,000 miles. Both it and the sky, and a good portion of space beyond - the sky, would certainly be included in a sphere 10,000 miles - across. Let us fill this sphere with cometary matter, and make it - our unit of measure. An easy calculation informs us that to produce - a comet’s tail of the size just mentioned, about 300,000 such - measures would have to be emptied into space. Now suppose the whole - of this stuff to be swept together, and suitably compressed, what do - you suppose its volume would be? Sir John Herschel would probably - tell you that the whole mass might be carted away at a single effort - by one of your dray-horses. In fact, I do not know that he would - require more than a small fraction of a horse-power to remove the - cometary dust. After this you will hardly regard as monstrous a - notion I have sometimes entertained concerning the quantity of - matter in our sky. Suppose a shell, then, to surround the earth at a - hight above the surface which would place it beyond the grosser - matter that hangs in the lower regions of the air—say at the hight - of the Matterhorn or Mont Blanc. Outside this shell we have the deep - blue firmament. Let the atmospheric space beyond the shell be swept - clean, and let the sky matter be properly gathered up. What is its - probable amount? I have sometimes thought that a lady’s portmanteau - would contain it all. I have thought that even a gentleman’s - portmanteau—possibly his snuff-box—might take it in. And whether the - actual sky be capable of this amount of condensation or not, I - entertain no doubt that a sky quite as vast as ours, and as good in - appearance, could be formed from a quantity of matter which might be - held in the hollow of the hand. - - Small in mass, the vastness in point of number of the particles of - our sky may be inferred from the continuity of its light. It is not - in broken patches nor at scattered points that the heavenly azure is - revealed. To the observer on the summit of Mont Blanc the blue is as - uniform and coherent as if it formed the surface of the most - close-grained solid. A marble dome would not exhibit a stricter - continuity. And Mr. Glaisher will inform you that if our - hypothetical shell were lifted to twice the hight of Mont Blanc - above the earth’s surface, we should still have the azure overhead. - Everywhere through the atmosphere those sky particles are strewn. - They fill the Alpine valleys, spreading like a delicate gauze in - front of the slopes of pine. They sometimes so swathe the peaks with - light as to abolish their definition. This year I have seen the - Weisshorn thus dissolved in opalescent air. - - By proper instruments the glare thrown from the sky particles - against the retina may be quenched, and then the mountain which it - obliterated starts into sudden definition. Its extinction in front - of a dark mountain resembles exactly the withdrawal of a veil. It is - the light then taking possession of the eye, and not the particles - acting as opaque bodies, that interfere with the definition. - - By day this light quenches the stars; even by moonlight it is able - to exclude from vision all stars between the fifth and the eleventh - magnitude. It may be likened to a noise, and the stellar radiance to - a whisper drowned by the noise. What is the nature of the particles - which shed this light? On points of controversy I will not here - enter, but I may say that De la Rive ascribes the haze of the Alps - in fine weather to floating organic germs. Now the possible - existence of germs in such profusion has been held up as an - absurdity. It has been affirmed that they would darken the air, and - on the assumed impossibility of their existence in the requisite - numbers, without invasion of the solar light, a powerful argument - has been based by believers in spontaneous generation. - - Similar arguments have been used by the opponents of the germ theory - of epidemic disease, and both parties have triumphantly challenged - an appeal to the microscope and the chemist’s balance to decide the - question. Without committing myself in the least to De la Rive’s - notion, without offering any objection here to the doctrine of - spontaneous generation, without expressing any adherence to the germ - theory of disease, I would simply draw attention to the fact that in - the atmosphere we have particles which defy both the microscope and - the balance, which do not darken the air, and which exist, - nevertheless, in multitudes sufficient to reduce to insignificance - the Israelitish hyperbole regarding the sands upon the seashore. - - The varying judgments of men on these and other questions may - perhaps be, to some extent, accounted for by that doctrine of - relativity which plays so important a part in philosophy. This - doctrine affirms that the impressions made upon us by any - circumstance, or combination of circumstances, depends upon our - previous state. Two travelers upon the same peak, the one having - ascended to it from the plain, the other having descended to it from - a higher elevation, will be differently affected by the scene around - them. To the one nature is expanding, to the other it is - contracting, and feelings are sure to differ which have two such - different antecedent states. - - In our scientific judgments the law of relativity may also play an - important part. To two men, one educated in the school of the - senses, who has mainly occupied himself with observation, and the - other educated in the school of imagination as well, and exercised - in the conception of atoms and molecules to which we have so - frequently referred, a bit of matter, say 1/50000 of an inch in - diameter, will present itself differently. The one descends to it - from his molar hights, the other climbs to it from his molecular - lowlands. To the one it appears small, to the other large. So also - as regards the appreciation of the most minute forms of life - revealed by the microscope. To one of these men they naturally - appear conterminous with the ultimate particles of matter, and he - readily figures the molecules from which they directly spring; with - him there is but a step from the atom to the organism. The other - discerns numberless organic gradations between both. Compared with - his atoms, the smallest vibrios and bacteria of the microscopic - field are as behemoth and leviathan. - - The law of relativity may to some extent explain the different - attitudes of these two men with regard to the question of - spontaneous generation. An amount of evidence which satisfies the - one entirely fails to satisfy the other; and while to the one the - last bold defense and startling expansion of the doctrine will - appear perfectly conclusive, to the other it will present itself as - imposing a profitless labor of demolition on subsequent - investigators. The proper and possible attitude of these two men is - that each of them should work as if it were his aim and object to - establish the view entertained by the other. - - I trust, Mr. President, that you—whom untoward circumstances have - made a biologist, but who still keep alive your sympathy with that - class of inquiries which nature intended you to pursue and - adorn—will excuse me to your brethren if I say that some of them - seem to form an inadequate estimate of the distance which separates - the microscopic from the molecular limit, and that, as a - consequence, they sometimes employ a phraseology which is calculated - to mislead. - - When, for example, the contents of a cell are described as perfectly - homogeneous, as absolutely structureless, because the microscope - fails to distinguish any structure, then I think the microscope - begins to play a mischievous part. A little consideration will make - it plain to all of you that the microscope can have no voice in the - real question of germ structure. Distilled water is more perfectly - homogeneous than the contents of any possible organic germ. What - causes the liquid to cease contracting at 39° F., and to grow bigger - until it freezes? It is a structural process of which the microscope - can take no note, nor is it likely to do so by any conceivable - extension of its powers. Place this distilled water in the field of - an electro-magnet, and bring a microscope to bear upon it. Will any - change be observed when the magnet is excited? Absolutely none; and - still profound and complex changes have occurred. - - First of all, the particles of water are rendered diamagnetically - polar; and secondly, in virtue of the structure impressed upon it by - the magnetic strain of its molecules, the liquid twists a ray of - light in a fashion perfectly determinate both as to quantity and - direction. It would be immensely interesting to both you and me if - one here present, who has brought his brilliant imagination to bear - upon this subject, could make us see as he sees the entangled - molecular processes involved in the rotation of the plane of - polarization by magnetic force. While dealing with this question he - lived in a world of matter and of motion to which the microscope has - no passport, and in which it can offer no aid. The cases in which - similar conditions hold are simply numberless. Have the diamond, the - amethyst, and the countless other crystals formed in the - laboratories of nature and of man, no structure? Assuredly they - have, but what can the microscope make of it? Nothing. It cannot be - too distinctly borne in mind that between the microscopic limit and - the true molecular limit there is room for infinite permutations and - combinations. It is in this region that the poles of the atoms are - arranged, that tendency is given to their powers, so that when these - poles and powers have free action and proper stimulus in a suitable - environment, they determine first the germ and afterwards the - complete organism. This first marshaling of the atoms on which all - subsequent action depends baffles a keener power than that of the - microscope. Through pure excess of complexity, and long before - observation can have any voice in the matter, the most highly - trained intellect, the most refined and disciplined imagination, - retires in bewilderment from the contemplation of the problem. We - are struck dumb by an astonishment which no microscope can relieve, - doubting not only the power of our instrument, but even whether we - ourselves possess the intellectual elements which will ever enable - us to grapple with the ultimate structural energies of nature. - - But the speculative faculty, of which imagination forms so large a - part, will nevertheless wander into regions where the hope of - certainty would seem to be entirely shut out. We think that though - the detailed analysis may be, and may ever remain, beyond us, - general notions may be attainable. At all events, it is plain that - beyond the present outposts of microscopic inquiry lies an immense - field for the exercise of the imagination. It is only, however, the - privileged spirits who know how to use their liberty without abusing - it, who are able to surround imagination by the firm frontiers of - reason, that are likely to work with any profit here. But freedom to - them is of such paramount importance that, for the sake of securing - it, a good deal of wildness on the part of weaker brethren may be - overlooked. In more senses than one Mr. Darwin has drawn heavily - upon the scientific tolerance of his age. He has drawn heavily upon - _time_ in his development of species, and he has drawn adventurously - upon _matter_ in his theory of pan-genesis. According to this - theory, a germ already microscopic is a world of minor germs. Not - only is the organism as a whole wrapped up in the germ, but every - organ of the organism has there its special seed. - - This, I say, is an adventurous draft on the power of matter to - divide itself and distribute its forces. But, unless we are - perfectly sure that he is overstepping the bounds of reason, that he - is unwittingly sinning against observed fact or demonstrated law—for - a mind like that of Darwin can never sin wittingly against either - fact or law—we ought, I think, to be cautious in limiting his - intellectual horizon. If there be the least doubt in the matter, it - ought to be given in favor of the freedom of such a mind. To it a - vast possibility is in itself a dynamic power, though the - possibility may never be drawn upon. - - It gives me pleasure to think that the facts and reasonings of this - discourse tend rather towards the justification of Mr. Darwin than - towards his condemnation, that they tend rather to augment than to - diminish the cubic space demanded by this soaring speculator; for - they seem to show the perfect competence of matter and force, as - regards divisibility and distribution, to bear the heaviest strain - that he has hitherto imposed upon them. - - In the case of Mr. Darwin, observation, imagination, and reason - combined have run back with wonderful sagacity and success over a - certain length of the line of biological succession. Guided by - analogy, in his “Origin of Species” he placed as the root of life a - primordial germ, from which he conceived the amazing richness and - variety of the life that now is upon the earth’s surface, might be - deduced. If this were true it would not be final. The human - imagination would infallibly look behind the germ, and inquire into - the history of its genesis. - - Certainty is here hopeless, but the materials for an opinion may be - attainable. In this dim twilight of speculation the inquirer - welcomes every gleam, and seeks to augment his light by indirect - incidences. He studies the methods of nature in the ages and the - worlds within his reach, in order to shape the course of imagination - in the antecedent ages and worlds. And though the certainty - possessed by experimental inquiry is here shut out, the imagination - is not left entirely without guidance. From the examination of the - solar system, Kant and Laplace came to the conclusion that its - various bodies once formed parts of the same undislocated mass; that - matter in a nebulous form preceded matter in a dense form; that as - the ages rolled away heat was wasted, condensation followed, planets - were detached, and that finally the chief portion of the fiery cloud - reached, by self-compression, the magnitude and density of our sun. - The earth itself offers evidence of a fiery origin; and in our day - the hypothesis of Kant and Laplace receives the independent - countenance of spectrum analysis, which proves the same substances - to be common to the earth and sun. Accepting some such view of the - construction of our system as probable, a desire immediately arises - to connect the present life of our planet with the past. We wish to - know something of our remotest ancestry. - - On its first detachment from the central mass, life, as we - understand it, could hardly have been present on the earth. How then - did it come there? The thing to be encouraged here is a reverent - freedom—a freedom preceded by the hard discipline which checks - licentiousness in speculation—while the thing to be repressed, both - in science and out of it, is dogmatism. And here I am in the hands - of the meeting—willing to end, but ready to go on. I have no right - to intrude upon you, unasked, the unformed notions which are - floating like clouds or gathering to more solid consistency in the - modern speculative scientific mind. But if you wish me to speak - plainly, honestly, and undisputatiously, I am willing to do so. On - the present occasion - - You are ordained to call, and I to come. - - Two views, then, offer themselves to us. Life was present - potentially in matter when in the nebulous form, and was unfolded - from it by the way of natural development, or it is a principle - inserted into matter at a later date. With regard to the question of - time, the views of men have changed remarkably in our day and - generation; and I must say as regards courage also, and a manful - willingness to engage in open contest, with fair weapons, a great - change has also occurred. - - The clergy of England—at all events the clergy of London—have nerve - enough to listen to the strongest views which any one amongst us - would care to utter; and they invite, if they do not challenge, men - of the most decided opinions to state and stand by those opinions in - open court. No theory upsets them. Let the most destructive - hypothesis be stated only in the language current among gentlemen, - and they look it in the face. They forego alike the thunders of - heaven and the terrors of the other place, smiting the theory, if - they do not like it, with honest secular strength. In fact, the - greatest cowards of the present day are not to be found among the - clergy, but within the pale of science itself. - - Two or three years ago in an ancient London college—a clerical - institution—I heard a very remarkable lecture by a very remarkable - man. Three or four hundred clergymen were present at the lecture. - The orator began with the civilization of Egypt in the time of - Joseph; pointing out that the very perfect organization of the - kingdom, and the possession of chariots, in one of which Joseph - rode, indicated a long antecedent period of civilization. He then - passed on to the mud of the Nile, its rate of augmentation, its - present thickness, and the remains of human handiwork found therein; - thence to the rocks which bound the Nile valley, and which team with - organic remains. Thus, in his own clear and admirable way, he caused - the idea of the world’s age to expand itself indefinitely before the - mind of his audience, and he contrasted this with the age usually - assigned to the world. - - During his discourse he seemed to be swimming against a stream; he - manifestly thought that he was opposing a general conviction. He - expected resistance; so did I. But it was all a mistake; there was - no adverse current, no opposing conviction, no resistance, merely - here and there a half humorous but unsuccessful attempt to entangle - him in his talk. The meeting agreed with all that had been said - regarding the antiquity of the earth and of its life. They had, - indeed, known it all long ago, and they good-humoredly rallied the - lecturer for coming amongst them with so stale a story. It was quite - plain that this large body of clergymen, who were, I should say, the - finest samples of their class, had entirely given up the ancient - landmarks, and transported the conception of life’s origin to an - indefinitely distant past. - - In fact, clergymen, if I might be allowed a parenthesis to say so, - have as strong a leaning towards scientific truth as other men, only - the resistance to this bent—a resistance due to education—is - generally stronger in their case than in others. They do not lack - the positive element, namely, the love of truth, but the negative - element, the fear of error, preponderates. - - The strength of an electric current is determined by two things—the - electro-motive force, and the resistance that force has to overcome. - A fraction, with the former as numerator and the latter as - denominator, expresses the current-strength. The “current-strength” - of the clergy towards science may also be expressed by making the - positive element just referred to the numerator, and the negative - one the denominator of a fraction. The numerator is not zero nor is - it even small, but the denominator is large; and hence the current - strength is such as we find it to be. Slowness of conception, even - open hostility, may be thus accounted for. They are for the most - part errors of judgment, and not sins against truth. To most of us - it may appear very simple, but to a few of us it appears - transcendently wonderful, that in all classes of society truth - should have this power and fascination. From the countless - modifications that life has undergone through natural selection and - the integration of infinitesimal steps, emerges finally the grand - result that the strength of truth is greater than the strength of - error, and that we have only to make the truth clear to the world to - gain the world to our side. Probably no one wonders more at this - result than the propounder of the law of natural selection himself. - Reverting to an old acquaintance of ours, it would seem, on purely - scientific grounds, as if a Veracity were at the heart of things; as - if, after ages of latent working, it had finally unfolded itself in - the life of man; as if it were still destined to unfold itself, - growing in girth, throwing out stronger branches and thicker leaves, - and tending more and more by its overshadowing presence to starve - the weeds of error from the intellectual soil. - - But this is parenthetical; and the gist of our present inquiry - regarding the introduction of life is this: Does it belong to what - we call matter, or is it an independent principle inserted into - matter at some suitable epoch—say when the physical conditions - become such as to permit of the development of life? Let us put the - question with all the reverence due to a faith and culture in which - we all were cradled—a faith and culture, moreover, which are the - undeniable historic antecedents of our present enlightenment. I say, - let us put the question reverently, but let us also put it clearly - and definitely. - - There are the strongest grounds for believing that during a certain - period of its history the earth was not, nor was it fit to be, the - theater of life. Whether this was ever a nebulous period, or merely - a molten period, does not much matter; and if we revert to the - nebulous condition, it is because the probabilities are really on - its side. Our question is this: Did creative energy pause until the - nebulous matter had condensed, until the earth had been detached, - until the solar fire had so far withdrawn from the earth’s vicinity - as to permit a crust to gather round a planet? Did it wait until the - air was isolated, until the seas were formed, until evaporation, - condensation, and the descent of rain had begun, until the eroding - forces of the atmosphere had weathered and decomposed the molten - rocks so as to form soils, until the sun’s rays had become so - tempered by distance and by waste as to be chemically fit for the - decompositions necessary to vegetable life? Having waited through - those æons until the proper conditions had set in, did it send the - fiat forth, “Let life be!”? These questions define a hypothesis not - without its difficulties, but the dignity of which was demonstrated - by the nobleness of the men whom it sustained. - - Modern scientific thought is called upon to decide between this - hypothesis and another; and public thought generally will afterwards - be called upon to do the same. You may, however, rest secure in the - belief that the hypothesis just sketched can never be stormed, and - that it is sure, if it yield at all, to yield to a prolonged siege. - To gain new territory, modern argument requires more time than - modern arms, though both of them move with greater rapidity than of - yore. - - But however the convictions of individuals here and there may be - influenced, the process must be slow and secular which commends the - rival hypothesis of natural evolution to the public mind. For what - are the core and essence of this hypothesis? Strip it naked and you - stand face to face with the notion that not alone the more ignoble - forms of animalcular or animal life, not alone the nobler forms of - the horse and lion, not alone the exquisite and wonderful mechanism - of the human body, but that the human mind itself—emotion, - intellect, will, and all their phenomena—were once latent in a fiery - cloud. Surely the mere statement of such a motion is more than a - refutation. But the hypothesis would probably go even further than - this. Many who hold it would probably assent to the position that at - the present moment all our philosophy, all our poetry, all our - science, and all our art—Plato, Shakespeare, Newton, and Raphael—are - potential in the fires of the sun. - - We long to learn something of our origin. If the evolution - hypothesis be correct, even this unsatisfied yearning must have come - to us across the ages which separate the unconscious primeval mist - from the consciousness of to-day. I do not think that any holder of - the evolution hypothesis would say that I overstate it or overstrain - it in any way. I merely strip it of all vagueness, and bring before - you, unclothed and unvarnished, the notions by which it must stand - or fall. - - Surely these notions represent an absurdity too monstrous to be - entertained by any sane mind. Let us, however, give them fair play. - Let us steady ourselves in front of the hypothesis, and, dismissing - all terror and excitement from our minds, let us look firmly into it - with the hard, sharp eye of intellect alone. Why are these notions - absurd, and why should sanity reject them? The law of relativity, of - which we have previously spoken, may find its application here. - These evolution notions are absurd, monstrous, and fit only for the - intellectual gibbet in relation to the ideas concerning matter which - were drilled into us when young. Spirit and matter have ever been - presented to us in the rudest contrast, the one as all noble, the - other as all vile. But is this correct? Does it represent what our - mightiest spiritual teacher would call the eternal fact of the - universe? Upon the answer to this question all depends. - - Supposing, instead of having the foregoing antithesis of spirit and - matter presented to our youthful minds, we had been taught to regard - them as equally worthy and equally wonderful; to consider them, in - fact, as two opposite faces of the self-same mystery. Supposing that - in youth we had been impregnated with the notion of the poet Goethe, - instead of the notion of the poet Young, looking at matter, not as - brute matter, but as “the living garment of God;” do you not think - that under these altered circumstances the law of relativity might - have had an outcome different from its present one? Is it not - probable that our repugnance to the idea of primeval union between - spirit and matter might be considerably abated? Without this total - revolution of the notions now prevalent the evolution hypothesis - must stand condemned; but in many profoundly thoughtful minds such a - revolution has already taken place. They degrade neither member of - the mysterious duality referred to; but they exalt one of them from - its abasement, and repeal the divorce hitherto existing between - both. In substance, if not in words, their position as regards - spirit and matter is: “What God hath joined together let not man put - asunder.” - - I have thus led you to the outer rim of speculative science, for - beyond the nebula scientific thought has never ventured hitherto, - and have tried to state that which I considered ought, in fairness, - to be outspoken. I do not think this evolution hypothesis is to be - flouted away contemptuously; I do not think it is to be denounced as - wicked. It is to be brought before the bar of disciplined reason, - and there justified or condemned. Let us hearken to those who wisely - support it, and to those who wisely oppose it; and let us tolerate - those, and they are many, who foolishly try to do neither of these - things. - - The only thing out of place in the discussion is dogmatism on either - side. Fear not the evolution hypothesis. Steady yourselves in its - presence upon that faith in the ultimate triumph of truth which was - expressed by old Gamaliel when he said: “If it be of God, ye cannot - overthrow it; if it be of man, it will come to naught.” Under the - fierce light of scientific inquiry this hypothesis is sure to be - dissipated if it possess not a core of truth. Trust me, its - existence as an hypothesis in the mind is quite compatible with the - simultaneous existence of all those virtues to which the term - Christian has been applied. It does not solve—it does not profess to - solve—the ultimate mystery untouched. At bottom it does nothing more - than “transport the conception of life’s origin to an indefinitely - distant past.” - - For, granting the nebula and its potential life, the question, - whence came they? would still remain to baffle and bewilder us. And - with regard to the ages of forgetfulness which lie between the - conscious life of the nebula and the conscious life of the earth, it - is but an extension of that forgetfulness which preceded the birth - of us all. Those who hold the doctrine of evolution are by no means - ignorant of the uncertainty of their data, and they yield no more to - it than a provisional assent. They regard the nebular hypothesis as - probable, and in the utter absence of any evidence to prove the act - illegal, they extend the method of nature from the present into the - past. Here the observed uniformity of nature is their only guide. - Within the long range of physical inquiry they have never discerned - in nature the insertion of caprice. Throughout this range the laws - of physical and intellectual continuity have run side by side. - Having thus determined the elements of their curve in this world of - observation and experiment, they prolong that curve into an - antecedent world, and accept as probable the unbroken sequence of - development from the nebula to the present time. - - You never hear the really philosophical defenders of the doctrine of - uniformity speaking of _impossibilities_ in nature. They never say, - what they are constantly charged with saying, that it is impossible - for the builder of the universe to alter His work. Their business is - not with the possible, but the actual; not with a world which - _might_ be, but with a world which _is_. This they explore with a - courage not unmixed with reverence, and according to methods which, - like the quality of a tree, are tested by their fruits. They have - but one desire—to know the truth. They have but one fear—to believe - a lie. And if they know the strength of science, and rely upon it - with unswerving trust, they also know the limits beyond which - science ceases to be strong. They best know that questions offer - themselves to thought which science, as now prosecuted, has not even - the tendency to solve. They keep such questions open, and will not - tolerate any unlawful limitation of the horizon of their souls. They - have as little fellowship with the atheist who says there is no God - as with the theist who professes to know the mind of God. - - “Two things,” said Immanuel Kant, “fill me with awe: the starry - heavens and the sense of moral responsibility in man.” And in his - hours of health and strength and sanity, when the stroke of action - has ceased and the pause of reflection has set in, the scientific - investigator finds himself overshadowed by the same awe. Breaking - contact with the hampering details of earth, it associates him with - a power which gives fulness and tone to his existence, but which he - can neither analyze nor comprehend. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - ● Transcriber’s Notes: - ○ The first 44 footnotes are gathered together in the “NOTES AND - REFERENCES” section. The following footnotes appear in the text - where they are referenced. - ○ The mid dot—“·” is used in numbers to separate the whole part - from the decimal fraction of the number. - ○ Missing or obscured punctuation was silently corrected. - ○ Typographical errors were silently corrected. - ○ Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation were made consistent only - when a predominant form was found in this book. - ○ Text that was in italics is enclosed by underscores - (_italics_). - ○ The use of a caret (^) before a letter, or letters, shows that - the following letter or letters was intended to be a - superscript, as in S^t Bartholomew or 10^{th} Century. - ○ Superscripts are used to indicate numbers raised to a power. 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